#and pulled up footage of a chicken walking

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Super random question: from one of your fics, what was that species of melon that Matt was trying to grow when he was staying with Arthur in England? What is its significance to Matt?

Trigger warning for pretty bad emotional neglect of a child, non graphic illness and some shockingly nice headcanons.

And ah, the Montreal melon. It's a type of muskmelon or honey dew or honey rock from Canada around the Montreal reason and it's a bit peppery! Like a sweet slightly tart nutmeg flavour. It's one of those few things that Matt just... really associates with one of the somewhat rare fucks given about him lol.

It's supposedly from the 19th century but there are images of it or something very similar going back quite a bit earlier. That headcanon post thing was in early spring in the late 18th or very very early 19th century. Matt's under Arthur's roof because the economy sucks ass after the American revolution so it's not worth the money to really do anything with him. Arthur's vaguely hoping Francis will buy him back lol. So no one much pays him much mind, he's more or less left to his own devices so he tries to keep himself entertained and productive and out from underfoot. Wars with France are going full tilt again so no one wants to socialize with the French welp.

He does his work, doesn't complain, cries outside if he's sad or homesick or lonely so he doesn't get on anyone's nerves. He eventually rescues the cat from the dairy yard that Arthur lets him keep but it's in one of these episodes of loneliness one of the gardeners asks him if there's anything he'd like to put in the garden that year and Matt asks for the nutmeg melon. The gardener doesn't want to risk square footage on something he hasn't tested so he says if Matt can grow it somewhere and prove it'll do all right, he'll put it in the garden. So for a year or two, at the very end of winter he's always out in the mud beyond the back garden where he won't get yelled at trying and failing to start up his melons. They keep dying and he's sad lol. They need a green house but he's not really allowed in there with his stupid little experiment.

But they're dead, he flops over ill with the economy in the gutter and gives up. In a whim while on a walk, Arthur follows the cat outside one day into the parkland beyond the gardens, finds Matt's little failed attempt and, pulls up some not entirely mud rotted melon vines and hands it over to the greenhouse. He vaguely recognizes it as one of Matthew's silly attempts to grow something in the windowsill and well he's been even mopier than usual so maybe if it lives he'll stop being so bloody depressing. Matt's kind of stopped doing anything except his work, sluggishly dragging himself to get the eggs and feed the chickens and other poultry.

He kind of just falls over in a feverish heap one day, one of the staff puts him to bed and they're kind of at a loss "who's even in charge of this one?" The uncle who's expressed half a fuck is overseas, Admiral Kirkland hasn't so much as mentioned the boy. He's just kind of there? But someone finds Rhys down in the valleys with the sheep so he marches back up to the house, doesn't even take his wellies off, and tells Arthur off because he is in charge of the lad and it's not as if Francis is going to take him back in the middle of another war for Christ's sake.

So Arthur tells the household to go feed the lad something decent and checks in on him. He's not too poorly off just sad, weak and a bit miserable but Arthur sits down to chat a bit, make sure he's not about to have to clean up a death and Matt just kind of leans over and kind of wants to be held. Arthur's not really... there yet with him so he just awkwardly, if gently scolds him to get back under the covers, he's getting too old for this kind of nonsense anyway. Matt apologizes, rolls back over and curls back up. Arthur gives him an awkward pat and grimaces about the show of what for Arthur at the turn of the 19th century is practically hysteria. Good lord, that was awkward and undignified. Matt just kind of unravels. Nothing matters, much less him. Not a serotonin in this kids body. He misses Alfred like mad, he hasn't had a letter from his uncle in a year. He feels like shit so he just kind of starts shutting down. Fever spikes, he doesn't start hallucinating but he's confused and crying a lot and no one really wants to do much about it so again someone tells Arthur about it and he kind of sighs "very well, easier than paying off witnesses to a resurrection." Hauls him over to the actual family side of the house, and tries to get his temperature down and indulges the incessant need for human contact the boy wants. And lord, it's annoying how much Arthur enjoys parenting but much resistance he puts against having another child but even his anglo ass is kind of touched by how much Matt enjoys his father's company. He's yours you dumb ass!!!! Love him a little and he'll do whatever you want for centuries!!! Long before antibiotics or even real painkillers all Arthur can really do is ply him with Willow bark tea and keep him company and that makes most of the difference. Like oh, surprise, some basic affection gives him the will to live. Who'd've fucking thought? When he's feeling a bit better, Arthur starts stashing him in the library near his desk piled up with blankets by the fire and Matt is more interesting than he's ever been. He sleeps and reads mostly but occasionally asks questions and perks up. Takes a bit, pre modern medicine but he hops too it just in time for spring and oh, well look at those melons coming from hot houses now. They'll have to plant a few rows! Cue getting barrelled into and squeezed and having one whole feeling about making Matthew happy.

So voila, melons are love.

[weebsinstash]

On my platonic yandere Batfam bullshit again thinking about, like, deliberately dramatic scenarios because I crave emotional tension

-imagine if Bruce gets called in to regressed!Reader's school because you got in a fist fight with another kid, and this kid is the son of one of his prominent business partners and Bruce, uh, doesn't immediately believe you when you state for him and the principal why you got into a fight because, hey he knows that boy, he isn't THAT bad! And Bruce scolds you and makes you apologize and even grounds you once you two are in the car alone and you're just noticeably extremely angry and quiet to the point you won't even come out of your room for dinner. And after some time has passed, days even, a couple members of the fam are in a room together with you and someone cracks a joke about you losing your temper over a misunderstanding and you just, stare directly at them as you pull out your phone, press play on a video, and walk away as they watch where you had been trying to take a photo of something like idk a flower or the weather and began accidentally filming after Selina helped dropped you off at school and the footage caught the boy outright calling her a slut for what she was wearing

And of course Bruce is upset because that kid insulted Catwoman and also got some swings back at you (he's probably proud to a certain degree that you defended Selina and shes absolutely delighted when she hears about it) but he asks "well why didn't you tell me you had proof im the first place" and you just spit at him "oh so I need PROOF for you to BELIEVE ME?" And extra bonus points if Reader has their old memories back and hits him with "after everything you've done to me, I finally ask for your help and ACTUALLY needed you this ONE TIME and you couldn't even believe me? Wow, my hero 🙄" so now he knows he's broken your heart AND you're back to the "old you" that he wants to, father all the depression and trauma out of

-since Dick, Barbara, and Reader would all be going to a prestigious school I think of like, what if your class got kidnapped for ransom while on a field trip. And Robin and Batgirl look over to you thinking you're going to panic and freak out but you're suspiciously calm, or, calmer than the anxiety stricken adopted 'sibling' they've had this whole time, and maybe despite being kidnapped by like, idk, Babyface or Black Mask or Two Face, and maybe you even just outright insult them and it becomes horribly obvious to them "oh not only do you have your memories back, they've unintentionally turned you into an explosive powder keg of repressed anger and frustration because they betrayed what little trust you had left"

You just look at Two Face and start fucking with him, this criminal looking down as a teenager starts roasting him way too casually and maybe with facts you shouldn't even know, things you remember from your time as a hero before. "Hey Harvey, what's hanging, it's been a while. Hey can I ask a question? You ever think about just outright asking someone like I dunno Bruce Wayne to fix that fucked up meat gristle face of yours? Like, I'm sure having half your body resemble the same consistency of a breakfast sausage has its uses in intimidation, but, like, I'm sure if you just walked up to Batman and said 'hey if you make me look less like a rotisserie chicken I'll quit crime' and he would probably just like, HAND the money for the sugery to you, like, do you think Batmobile money falls out of the sky, he's clearly fucking loaded"

And of course the follow up/alternative of "the stress triggers Reader's metagene or old memories or both and you just start whooping ass unapologetically and Barb and Dick are sweating because they're trying not to break incognito but like you're significantly hurting these dudes, you're clearly really angry and upset and taking it out on them" and tbh I imagine Batman already has contingencies for this possibility. He shows up in costume and Two Face has already fled but you're standing there in your preppy school uniform now dirty and torn, blood on your knuckles, about to beat a man unconscious while your classmates either cower or cheer or fear you. If Reader has some sort of magic, then he just has to get Nth metal from Hawkgirl or Hawkman, maybe he'll make it a cute bracelet, just a nice gift from Dad. Bodily autonomy to use your own powers and be an adult again, what's that? He's disappointed in you for caving into the darkness and also? you're grounded >:(

-Reader becoming a mugging/gun violence victim and now you're never allowed to leave the manor, period. I can only imagine like the projection of trauma from Bruce if, after losing his parents, he has to watch you weak and recovering from a gunshot, wheezing in bed struggling to breathe properly because a bullet went through one of your lungs. You're put in a total bubble to recover in absolute peace and sterility, but, even far after you've recovered, your "guardian" is still convinced someone will leap out of the bushes to hurt you, so, no leaving the manor unless he's with you. Like. Imagine him being so scared he doesn't even want to trust your safety with the other Batfamily members, and maybe he even cracks down on several of the other younger members because he doesn't want them to get shot too (also like, resulting trauma and overprotectiveness if one or multiple of them saw you get shot and are like, still fucked up over having to apply pressure to your bullet wound as your warm blood leaks all over their fingers and they can't do anything to stop you and-- like do you see how that would send some of them into borderline psychosis when theyve already got So Many Many Issues)

-all of them try to exert control over what you're exposed to and consume in terms of entertainment. You have spyware on your phone and any member of the Batfam who can use the Batcomputer can see your past and current browsing history and I will die on this hill. Bruce and Alfred are rigorous in making sure you don't ruin your mental health. Like you know how I talked about "what if you had a yandere that was in tech and he gave you a phone that he occasionally spies on and remotely disables if he thinks you're spending too much time on it/seeing something you shouldnt"? Bruh that's like half of the Manor, Bruce especially. He has to "make sure nothing bad happens to you". All it can take is 'one bad day', after all...

-obsessed with the idea of them getting jealous of you spending time with other alternate universe versions of themselves, in concepts where Reader is a JL member/vigilante and has the power/tech to multiverse travel anyways. Batman hasn't seen you in a couple weeks and, actually maybe he's a little concerned about you, you've kind of just vanished off the face of the earth, and he bumps into you on a Gotham rooftop with. Another Batman, and getting along much better and being more casual and friendly with the stranger than with him. Broody fucking "I am darkness, I am the night, I am vengeance" Bruce catching you like. smoking weed on his couch with the hilariously weird version of him from the Harley Quinn cartoon universe and God forbid if anyone shows signs of having feelings for you

(also could you imagine how ballistic he and or Jason would go if they caught you hanging out with, you know, one of the super violent "murder is ok" Jasons/Batmans and you tell them straight up "actually I agree with what he's doing, I want to help him, in fact maybe I'll work with HIM now instead of you" like, y'all, I think Batman would permanently never let you work as a hero or sidekick ever again because he's genuinely worried you'll fall down the slippery slope and make a mistake that ruins your life. Like depending on the depiction of Batman you're looking at, some of them admit straight up that they don't kill Joker because they know they're legitimately filled with so much anger and hatred that if they kill even one person, that'll break the barrier to killing tons of criminals outright and they won't be able to stop)

-all I'm saying is that if they ever caught you like being cordial or mildly friendly with an alternate universe version of a villain, no matter how good they are, they shut that shit down immediately. "Y/N who is that" "oh this is my bud The Jester from the universe where the Joker is actually really good and a superhero and--" *jester proceeds to be grappled back through a multiverse portal* "wait no don't freak out this poison ivy is actually really chill and she's married to Harley and she sells me really good weed and she only does a liiiiiitle bit of ecoterrorism and--" immediately thrown in Arkham

-I just genuinely think it's funny that they're probably either smoking weed with you bc trauma and stress or are vehemently anti drug. Can you imagine just in general like, regressed reader, batfam member, either way, just being an actual adult just minding your business and smoking weed and Bruce reacting like he just caught you with a loaded gun in your pocket "y/n is that a weed" "yeah its for my chronic pain--" "I'm calling commissioner gordon" like, Bruce practically acting like you need to go to rehab

-I kinda love the drama of Bruce or Dick or Barbara or just any of the Batfam members accidentally basically ruining your social life and social reputation. You were at a house party one night and eventually pics start getting texted around of Nightwing confronting you in the yard and pulling you away and now there are rumors you're a criminal on parole. You get invited to smoke weed at a friend's and suddenly Batman is in the house and suddenly everyone's parents are there to pick up their kids as he lectures about the dangers of drugs and now absolutely NO ONE from school wants anything to do with you "because what if Batman shows up and gets us in trouble"

-I feel like, as one of those vaguely morally gray areas, that Bruce would make you take medication and get treatment for, like, really anything that needs it, but more specifically anxiety and depression and just overall psychological issues. And as a dark twist what if you aren't really naturally anxious and don't even have an anxiety disorder or anything but he puts you on pills to mellow you out because you're freaking out at him for completely valid and understandable reasons like, you know, being confined in his home against your will. "What, you aren't mad about being kidnapped and controlled and lied to, you clearly just have pre existing emotional issues that keep you from reacting properly, but don't worry I'm here to help" 🙄🙄🙄

[yourkimjaejin]

Good Bad Decisions

Aurora and Haechan get their ears pierced together

Back with a new post!! Hope you guys enjoy!! I'll have some more soon so stay tuned!! ~ Author Izzy

Donghyuck almost had the door open without a creek when a voice from behind made him jump out of his boots.

“Lee Donghyuck. Where in hell do you think you're going?” 

“Yah! What did Mark hyung say about cursing?”

“Hell is hardly a curse word oppa. And don’t avoid the question. How dare you sneak out to get your ears pierced without telling me?” Aurora smirks when Haechan can’t even lie about his whereabouts at two in the morning.

Haechan had been acting suspicious for a couple of days now. 8Dream had just gotten home from Indonesia but the members weren’t unpacking. Days later they were going to Thailand to continue their first world tour. The boys and her were living in a reality that was dream only a couple of years ago

In the days they were given as a break, Aurora had noticed something. She always notices when somethings up with her members. That way, she can send the most appropriate person to help. This time, she noticed Haechan was being shifty. When he was shifty, it meant he had something planned that the singer didn’t want anyone to know about. 

If he didn’t want someone to know, then his phone password shouldn’t be 0606.

And now she was waiting for Haechan to either explain or lie horribly. Her bet was on the latter. 

Haechan sighed, he knew lying was futile, especially with Aurora, “Look, I have an appointment in ten minutes. Can I count on you not to blab on me?” Haechan wasn’t past begging. If Donghyuck got busted, Mark would grill him then send him to be fed to Taeyong and Doyoung. 

“No you can’t.” Aurora turned around and went to her room. Haechan was already preparing his best lie when Aurora walked back out with a backpack and a coat.

“You can’t because I’m going with you.” Aurora grabbed her keys while opening the door. She turned to Haechan who hadn’t moved, “You coming?” Still in shock, Haechan grabbed his jacket and followed the younger to the car waiting downstairs.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Haechan and Aurora stood in front of the mirror admiring their twin helix piercings. They both had simple studs with their birthstones embedded in. The whole time two were filled with nervous energy. The piercing specialist had them both sign the consent forms then explained what they had to do to take care of the piercing until it healed. 

The lady who did their piercings kept them talking. Before they knew it, the earring was thru the back of their ear with only a pinch of pain on Aurora's side. Haechan squealed at the unfamiliar intrusion (and yes Aurora does have footage. It was added to the Haechan oppa section of her blackmail folder). 

Haechan stared at the selfie the two maknaes took to commemorate the occasion. A smile on his face. Truth be told, Haechan was a little nervous. Getting a piercing had been an idea in the back of his head for a while. The more important events came up. First Mark graduated, then the original nct dream lineup had their last hurrah with the first tour that got canceled by the pandemic. Getting his ears piercing was the last thing he could think about

The certainty of 8Dream staying 8Dream allowed that thought to come back to forefront. For a long time he debated with himself, arguing the pros and cons until he just made an appointment. Haechan promised himself that if he didn’t go, He’d let the piercing idea go. Luckily for him, Aurora coming along gave him the courage to go ahead with it. 

Aurora grabbed his hand, bringing his attention back to the present, “Thanks for letting me come. I’ve always wanted a piercing.” 

“Thanks for coming with me. I would’ve chickened out if not for you.” Haechan pulled her into his side as the bright lights of Korean nightlife passed the car window. The van dropped them back off at the dormitory. The two let the excitement carry them to the front door. They didn’t even notice the living room light on.

An angry voice stopped them in their tracks, smiles dropping into expressions of fear.

“LEE DONGHYUCK!!! CHAE EUNJI!!! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU BOTH GO AT 3 O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING!!! WHEN TAEYONG FINDS OUT YOU BOTH ARE IN BIGGEST TROUBLE IMAGINABLE.” Haechan was frozen. Mark was using his leader's voice. That wasn’t good. Where Haechan was frozen. Aurora was laughing.

“I mean it's not like you can rip the piercing from our ears.” 

“PIERCING!!!”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Taglist - @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite

[hitmewithabusposts]

hiii maybe hcs for a jackass pool party? like johnny taking you and showing you off or smth?

Yes 🫶🙌

Pool with the guys HC’s

Johnny

Definitely wouldn’t take his eyes off you when he saw you in your swimsuit

Or his hands

“Isn’t she so beautiful?” he’d say talking to the guys, distracted by you lounging on a pool chair.

Making you be his partner in a game of chicken against the other guys and their girls

“Are you sure you don’t need help rubbing that tanning oil on sweetheart? I think you’re missing a spot you should really let me help you”

If he noticed another guy staring at you, he’d be right back beside you, a hand on your waist kissing up on your neck.

Stealing sips of your drink, even tho he had a beer of his own.

Steveo

“Wow babe, you look amazing” he’d tell you when you’d show him your swimsuit.

Lounging on pool floats together

Until the guys would want to splash you guys, then that’s when you two got competitive

You’d team up, throwing buckets of water on the others when they weren’t expecting it, always keeping water guns in your cars during the summer as well

Champions at pool games. That’s all.

“Can you two stop making out on that innertube and grab us more beers?” One of the guys would ask, making everyone laugh including you and Steveo

Ryan

He’d remind you to grab sunglasses before you left, but you’d insist you wouldn’t need them. He’d end up forcing you to take his after watching you squint into the sun for half an hour

“God I’m lucky” he’d say when you’d walk out of the house, revealing your swimsuit.

Holding hands while you guys floated on two separate pool floats

Would start a game of poolside cornhole or beer pong, always being partners

Using his tee shirt as a swimsuit cover when you guys got out of the pool

Putting aloe on your sunburn at the end of the day, “this looks like it hurts baby :(“

Bam

Pushes you in the pool, for sure

“You look sexy babe, that looks amazing on you” when you showed him your swimsuit

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his middle so he can hold you out in the water

Dares you to do stunts into the pool, like flips, riding your board into the pool, anything dumb really

But sometimes this would get good footage when Lance was there with the camera.

“I won’t push you in if you give me a kiss” he’d say, holding your waist as you dangled over the edge, just getting done drying off. “Fuck you” you’d laugh, refusing to give in as you felt the cool water hit your body again

“Help me out at least babe” you’d say, as he’d offer his hand to pull you out, but you’d just pull him right in with you, and he’d come up and kiss you, both of you back in the water.

Pontius

Definitely would get swim trunks to match your swimsuit

Try to get you to wear matching beach hats with him (he’d give you those big ole eyes and say ‘please’ and you couldn’t say no)

“I don’t think you can go to the party in that swimsuit babe” he’d say when you walked out in it before leaving. “Why not?” “Because I wouldn’t be the best looking there anymore” he joked, making you throw your towel at his head.

He’d make an awesome pool party mixtape

Flipping you off your float in the pool, swimming away giggling

Sitting with you in his lap around the bonfire that night with the guys, making s’mores and resting his head on your shoulder to talk to everyone else, occasionally turning his head to kiss your cheek or shoulder

[seraphtrevs]

Do you think Ben America was all Lalo or was it all acting? He styles his hair different, his outfit didn't seem like something he'd wear at a formal gathering in his real life. But to Mrs. Ziegler this character worked perfectly though to the viewers we could see right through it

It was all acting. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but Tony did such an amazing job with this because he makes Lalo bad at acting, but not so bad that it's unbelievable that some people would fall for it. I imagine that's a difficult line to walk as an actor.

Lalo is a very intelligent sociopath. He's really good at reading people and understanding their motivations, but he doesn't have the same sorts of feelings normal people have, which is why he comes across as hollow when mimics them And in Lalo's defense, the times we've seen his acting fail had other factors that made him less likely to succeed. Fred the Travelwire guy just had a strange encounter with Mike, who is a fantastic actor, but as soon as he was out from under Mike's spell, he started reflecting on how weird that whole situation was. So when Lalo shows up and asks about the exact same person that Mike was asking about, of course Fred is suspicious. Even if Lalo had given an Emmy-worthy performance, I still don't think he would have been able to convince Fred to show him the video footage. And Casper was literally hiding in the woods because he was scared to death that he was going to be murdered by criminals for knowing too much, so of course he immediately clocks Lalo as a threat, even though he was initially friendly (also, I think he recognized him? They did meet briefly when Gus showed Bolsa and Lalo the "chicken cooler"). And while Lalo could not for his life pull off "scared" for the judge at his bail hearing, he was at least able to mask what a freak he was enough that the judge granted him bail. Back to Margarethe - there is literally no reason for her to find Lalo suspicious. His seduction is successful because he makes sure their conversation revolves around her, which is part of why she found it so sexy. It's very flattering to have an attractive person hang on your every word. Lalo was confident he could seduce her because he knew how to give her exactly what she wanted. You don't have to be completely convincing if you're playing into what people want to believe

[abbatoirablaze]

The Debauchery Of Captain America, Chapter 16

Word Count:  770

Steve’s heart shattered as he watched and re-watched the footage from the day that he left you at the cabin. You watched him with such sadness as he ran out and off to save the world.  And while he hadn’t thought of it until he returned, after your actual anniversary, he knew that it must have hurt you.

Which is why he sat himself down and had Friday pull up the footage. 

Your brave face fell away the second that the quinjet was gone.  He’d heard the engines rev for liftoff, and then silence. 

And then you broke down in tears in the middle of the canvas.  You sat there, crying for a few hours, before you finally got up and closed the door. 

Then you moved, almost like a robot and washed the paint off yourself, cleaned up the cabin, and left. 

Steve’s jaw clenched. 

He knew that you were back at your place.  You hadn’t come to the tower, and he knew that there was only one place you would go.  Your apartment.

But he was too chicken to go and see you. 

He’d asked Bucky…Sam…even Tony for their advice.  And Tony’s was the one that he took to heart.

“Listen, capsicle, I understand that you and the future M.R.S. actually missed your anniversary…but that’s a side to our lifestyle…and all of our special women go through it,” he sighed sadly, looking through the glass walls to see Pepper actively talking to someone while bouncing Morgan on her hip, “you know…I’ve missed so many milestones in their lives…and Pepper walked out once, early in our relationship.  I’m sure that you remember it.  And Thor and Jane didn’t work out, because she didn’t know if she would be able to handle the superhero thing…its something that all of us have to deal with at one point or another when we find our person.”

“B-but what do I do, Tony?”

“You’ve got to talk to her, Cap…Pepper and I had a long conversation…she knows that I’ll never entirely have a foot out of the Avengers…just like I know you’ll never have one entirely out…she needs to be aware of that…we all know that you’re talking about retiring.  But guys like us don’t retire and play a round of golf at the country club at the end of the day.”

“But I’m handing the shield off to Sam…”

“Steve…guys like us only have one retirement plan…and it’s not handing the suit or the shield off to someone…you know the only time it ever really leaves us alone…”

Steve took a deep breath, knowing that deep down in his heart, Tony was right. 

“What if she leaves me Tony?”

“Love finds a way, Rogers,” Tony said softly as Pepper looked at him at just the right moment.  Steve watched Tony and Pepper; watched how she grabbed Morgan’s hand and had the toddler wave at him, both of his girls giggling.  Tony smiled softly, his own hand lifting enough to wave back to them, “I do it for them, though…they both know that.  I’m never going to retire the suit, Steve…not until Morgan or Pepper is ready to take it on.”

A few tears slipped down Steve’s cheeks as he replayed the footage, watching his fiance walk  out of the cabin with her bags in tow.  She loaded herself into the car and drove off the property.

“You know you could just go visit her…”

Steve looked beside himself to see his best friend, and he scoffed, “yeah….and say what?  Sorry I ruined our anniversary, but the world was ending?”

“(Y/N) is reasonable, Steve…it’s not like she doesn’t know that you’re Captain America.”

“She cried for an hour and a half when I left…before she even bothered to clean herself up and leave the cabin,” Steve sighed to himself, “what if she realized right there that I’ll never be fully out?  What if she realized she said yes to me only to figure out first-hand that she’ll never truly be at the top of the list?  That even if we have kids and a future…that my first calling will always be to jump on the quinjet if there’s trouble.”

“Steve…you need to talk to your fiance…” Bucky sighed, putting his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “you can’t just avoid her…she knows the trouble is over…the longer you wait…the more she’s going to think something is wrong.”

“It is wrong, Buck…”

“Is it?” he asked, looking at his friend, “or is it that you want there to be so that you don’t have to feel guilty about leaving?”

“Buck…”

“Talk to her, Steve.”

Chapter 17

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @sebsgirl71479, @melissad1974, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @wintasssoldier, @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[rhinozilla]

I’m a dumbass (affectionate). Here’s today’s example.

So on the way home from work I made an impromptu trip to the local grocery store to pick up a few things to make buffalo chicken dip tonight, because I was having an intense craving for it. I park right up in the front row, and I walk past a car that looks similar to mine, but I have buffalo chicken on the brain, so I don’t retain any of that observation (foreshadowing).

I go in, grab only what I need, and check out. I come outside, open (what I think is) my driver’s side door, and the door pops. Like “something wrong with the hinge” pops. I close the door and take a step back and look at it. The entire driver’s side fender on (what I think is) my car has been scraped and bashed in, extending all the way to the door, hence the popping.

Now, back in November a semi backed into my car while I was in it, and it took until literally May to get parts in and get my car fixed. So I’m staring at this damage and thinking “are you FUCKING serious? I JUST got my car fixed.” I walk right back into the grocery store and speak to the manager there, tell him I think someone scraped up my car while backing out, and request them to review the security footage.

They pull up the footage, navigate around to the time stamp and...I see (what I think is) my car pull up with the pre-existing scrape/bash damage, and some stranger gets out of (what is clearly their, not my) car. I immediately realized that I had mistaken their car for mine. I hadn’t gotten any farther than opening the car door and hearing that pop. If I had taken one tenth of another second to assess, I would have noticed the different interior, license plates, etc.

We reach the point in the footage where you see my dumb ass walk out, open the door, pause, stare at the damage, turn in a confused circle, dramatically sigh, and then waddle back into the store.

ANYWAY. So I point this out, and the manager walks out with me to make sure that my actual car is okay. Sure as shit, my car is parked literally two spots down from this other car, untouched. In my defense, it is identical in color, make, and model. Against my defense, it had distinctive bumper stickers and the damage was clearly rusted and did not happen that day.

We laugh at the misunderstanding and averted crisis. I apologize for taking up the manager’s time, and I leave.

So I’m currently riding the high of an emotional whiplash...from “woohoo buffalo chicken!” to “WTF is that sound?” to “oh, you’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING me” to “dammit, I JUST FIXED THIS. Now I’m going to have to file a police report and do this all fucking over again” to “Oh...I may be stupid” to “oh thank god, what a relief” to “woohoo buffalo chicken!”

If had a nickel for every time I’d mistaken a stranger’s car for mine in a parking lot to the point of nearly getting inside it, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that’s happened twice now.

[mysticmannor]

Thursday, October 19, 2023

I’m at walmart with my mother. Walmart has rentable storage lockers in my dream, and you have to buy a certain amount of things to qualify to get one. I end up buying some guys stuff that he abandoned at the register, tossing back the frozen stuff that I can’t keep. Also there’s lottery tickets that I didn’t really want to buy but did anyway.

We get a fruit juice and head out to the storage lot, mom leaves somewhere in the car and I am nosing around in the biggest storage locker I’ve ever seen. I have lots of boxes and a big bed in it. There is a turn in the space, L shaped. the bed is not pressed against the wall, it’s laid up on the frame and the frame has made a hallway of sorts on the far back wall unseeable from the front of the storage room.

I’m piddling as a man walks into the space, he is threatening but I don’t understand why. He’s speaking slowly and calm. I am too but realize the situation is about to escalate. I can’t recall the words exchanged exactly.

He slides onto the bed, a gun in hand resting on the back of the bed frame, pointed at me in the makeshift hallway. I get closer to the pistol’s barrel and say “You’re not going to shoot me, you won’t get what you want.” He doesn’t flinch, speak or show any expression.

He pulls the chamber back. It holds, “you want to bet lady?” he says. “I guess I’m the gambling type today.” I fire back. He drops the chamber and cocks the gun again. I realize there’s no bullets in it now, he flounders to get it to hold this time.

I grab the pistol in my right hand, swinging my body over the left of the bed frame weight on his wrist. I grab the gun and dismantle it as he jumps up. I toss it on the ground in his direction, now to the right of the bed and in the view of the opening of the roll top door.

Before I can fully register it, he’s jumped on me and we are tussling. I pat my jeans looking for my handy knife, rolling over and over the floor he doesn’t see it. I pull his hurt right wrist back pinning him face down. His left arm underneath my crouched left leg, my right supporting his spine.

Instinctively I snatch his head by a fistful of hair in my left fist, releasing his poorly busted right arm I pop my switchblade out of my waistline. He’s cussing in an ugly language. Russian, German? Not sure, but you can tell it’s curses. I swiftly slice the meat of his neck as if it were a chicken breast in the walmart next door.

Gargling, my left fist pulls his wound deeper as his neck is forced backwards. His gasping slowing, I tell myself here as I’m breathing for the time time in minutes that I won’t look at his face. I try to think how this looks, why he was after me. I wonder if someone’s knew where he was.

I sit behind the bed frame, finding a flip. I know it will call 911 even without service. Should I call? It was self defense. Would they believe me? His dead body excreting fluid all over my storage room, I’ll lose the deposit. I spring up to haul his body outside the next door. I roll him over so that maybe most the blood would soak up in his clothes and not the pavement. I didn’t look at his face.

I go back to my safe space in the makeshift hall. I’m thinking do I call? Do I run? They’ll find security footage of me at walmart, in the storage lot at the time of death. They’ll find forensics all over the room. If I get caught up in the system, I’ll be busted for much more than a self defense case. As I’m thinking the options over, I hear someone rush my decisiveness.

A woman hollers outside, explaining the man is in a real bad way. Someone else is with her, I can barely see her head peering over the man in the far right view of the open door. Shit. No doubt now, I’m fucked. I quietly and quickly grab my go bag, in the chaos of them calling the cops from their car I escape to the main road.

The sun has gone down, and the sky is gray in color. I walk down the main road as cooling as possible, not looking into the oncoming traffic until nightfall. When it is pitch black, I start looking into backyards of the homes on the way of the road. I find a pretty one with a decent wooden gate. There’s a nice seating area around a long forgotten fire pit.

I climb over and rest a while. As the morning comes, the grayness returns in the skies. I walk over to a corner store that is not open yet. Across the lot of the gas station, a group of grungy people lay across large boulder rocks on blankets. Homeless, drug addicted and runaways chain smoking and drifting, I would blend in. I make my over and pull out a half smoked spliff, offering the group as they made room on the rock for me.

We waited for the store to open, all gathered supplies for the day and I borrowed a phone to reach out to a friend. She came to pick me up, and I showered at her place. I didn’t tell her anything, or her military husband. I took a spare bed or theirs. Recollecting my things, finally feeling like I could think a moment… the flip phone rings.

[captainstevenjohnstonme]

Bad Little Doggie.

What a perfect day.

The sun is shining and the birds are chirping happily up the trees.

Over the Christmas break I indulged in too much pudding and beer so I decide that today is the day to go to the Centennial Park in Sydney and jog along the paths whilst taking in the spectacular views.

I jump in my car and drive for about 20 minutes or so before arriving at my destination.

There are a lot of people out and about enjoying being in the fresh air instead of stuck at home listening to the relatives who have over stayed their welcome.

The manicured grass is adorned with lots of picnic blankets occupied by holidaymakers eating fried chicken and coleslaw while others play cricket or throw a frisbee around oblivious to their skin burning in the mid morning sun.

I take a seat and change into a pair of Nike runners that I got for Christmas.

The runners are supposed to make you feel like you are jogging on soft clouds but after jogging for 100 meters my feet are beginning to hurt and my expanded stomach is bouncing around like a huge bowl of jelly so I slow down to a stroll while at the same time pretending to be a world class athlete.

I hear yapping nearby and immediately my heart starts pumping overtime because even though I am a well built 20year old male who's enjoys playing rugby and mountain climbing I am ashamed to admit that I have had a hatred for dogs after I got bitten on the leg by a mates pet German shepherd when I was twelve years old.

When I round the bend I am confronted by a grey haired middle aged lady with a Chihuahua on a long lead.

The little mutt is the size of a guinea pig with soft eyes and brown about as harmless as said guinea pig so I take a big breath and approach the Chihuahua 'Mister I wouldn't get to close to Misty if I were you, she might look sweet and cuddly but Misty has won a blue ribbon for prize fighting on more than one occasion.'

'Prize fighting my arse' I mutter under my breath as I bend down holding out my hand for the dog to sniff 'Good little doggie' I say in greeting.

The lady pulls on the lead but it is too little too late.

The Chihuahua bites down on two of my fingers and begins to chew on them like they were two delicious chicken wings.

I am too stunned to move and can only watch as my two digits are severed and swallowed down.

People started to gather around to see what the commotion was about.

I was yelling for help holding my wounded hand to my side while blood began to pool at my feet.

Misty the manic mongrel had broken loose from its owner and had now clamped its teeth into the back of my left ankle shaking its head like it was at a heavy metal concert.

I sound of my Achilles tendon snapping was probably heard as far as the opera house but still the people did nothing but hold up their phones taking pictures and video for their own morbid pleasure.

As I lay slumped on the ground unable to move the owner of Misty the mongrel from hell walked over 'Mister leave Misty alone, can't you see she is hurting?'

Misty sat a few meters away from me with my blood all over its evil little face 'What are you talking about you stupid bitch, that is my blood on Cujo, so why don't you shut the fuck up and pick up your pet demon.'

One of the onlookers lowered his phone and told me that he had called the police and ambulance 'Even though it cost me some valuable footage.'

I didn't know is I should thank the prick or jump up and jam his phone where the sun refuses to shine but seeing that I want be doing much jumping in the foreseeable future I bite my tongue and wait for the ambo's to arrive.

A half hour later I arrive at the hospital where my wounds are treated than I am wheeled into a ward rolled onto a bed and told by a doctor that I will be having surgery to reattach my tendon and stitch my hand before infection has a chance to set in.

While the preop drugs start to take me off to pixie land I look out of the ward window and see the old lady and her Chihuahua looking back at me in amusement.

I can still feel the teeth ripping my fingers from my body and hear the snarls from the rabid beast.

Two weeks later I was released from the hospital with my physical injuries completely healed but my mental wounds I am still to overcome.

For six months I need the aid from a walking stick to get around and slowly but surely my mind is healed as best as it ever will be and I can't believe that I am saying this but I decide to get myself a pet but it sure as fuck won't be a dog.

At the pet store I wander around the cages holding lizards, snakes, rats, and a good assortment of birds and cats.

I walk out carrying a hold all case where inside sits a very contented Siamese cat that the owner of the store assured me was kind and gentle with a playful personality.

Pandora soon became part of the furniture running from room to room getting up to mischief.

I feed her a variety of food mainly beef chicken and fish and she seemed happy with my selection but a month after I brought her home Pandora went off her food and began to hiss and scratch at me for no reason that I could see.

The vet suggested that I feed Pandora a mixture of dry and wet cat food and he even gave me a few brands to try.

Pandora took to her new meals like a moth to a flame and I sigh in relief because I was starting to stress and have flashbacks to the day in the park when i was reduced to a quivering mess by Misty the Chihuahua from cuntland.

Pandora and I are now both happy with the new food schedule and life is beginning to look good but that soon went to hell in a handbasket.

It was a Tuesday evening around six o'clock and Pandora looked all set in for a nap after her meal and I leaned in to listen to her purr.

Her green eyes opened and without warning my she lashed out racking her claws down the left side of my face.

Sweet little Pandora now looked like a voodoo princess on meth and she lashed out again and this time she hit my right eye and I felt the eyeball turn to mush.

I feel the juices from my battered eye running down my face but I quickly come to my senses and dial triple 000.

I hold a towel to my eye while I wait for the ambulance to arrive and you wouldn't believe but the same two ambo's who treated after my first attack walk inside.

The older of the two recognizes me straight away 'What is it this time a goldfish?

'No it was a crazed cat thank you very much, now are we going to stand here talking all day?'

'Sorry sir' the other ambo says 'But and you can tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I really don't think that you are an animal person.'

'You think?' I scream back 'Now take me to hospital and I would appreciate it if both of you would stay completely silent or I am bound to lose my temper.'

My face took 36 stitches to repair and I lost my left eye and now i need to wear a patch until an prosthetic eye is fitted.

Now I am back at home with a new pet and I know you are all saying 'What in the fuck?'

But I can guarantee that this pet is completely harmless and doesn't need any feeding or taking outside to do its business because you see my new pet is a rock who I named Granite.

THE END.

[alostnarrator]

To Save Yourself- Chapter 7: Anger Issues (pt. 2)

Universe: 2012

Day: 3

Mikey hummed as he made himself more hot chocolate in Casey’s kitchen. The two dorks fast asleep on the couch didn’t stir hearing him move about. His hand hesitated over the cupboard, wondering if he could cook himself something. As much as he loved junk food, he craved something of real substance. He continued to just stand there with his hand hovering over the handle while he thought. Mikey heard Tesla mutter in his sleep and he made up his mind, he’d cook up a meal for the three of them.

Mikey found quickly that Casey’s kitchen was organized very simply, and he found the items he needed with ease. He made quick and quiet work of assessing the pantry and fridge; he grabbed what he deemed good and laid them out on the counter. Aside from onions, Mikey found all the ingredients he needed to make golden curry. He returned to his soft humming while the chicken defrosted in the microwave, and he washed the carrots and potatoes. 

It wasn’t long before Mikey was stir-frying the ingredients together. Lost in his own world he didn’t hear Tesla walking into the kitchen. 

“Michael? What’re you doing?” He yawned while drowsily rubbing at his eyes. Casey had plopped down at the kitchen table upon hearing food sizzle away in the pan. Mikey froze, worried they would be mad at him for helping himself to Casey’s kitchen. But no such words came, Tesla leaned on the archway into the kitchen, still halfway asleep.

“Smells good.” Casey huffed from the table, not thrilled with being woken up. Mikey grinned, happy to be cooking again. “Hey Casey?” He said over his shoulder, eyes glued to the cooking chicken. Casey hummed, not lifting his head from the table. “Do you have a rice cooker?” Casey groaned loudly as he dragged himself out of his chair, and pulled a rice cooker from behind some boxes in the pantry. 

“Thanks.” Mikey beamed as Casey went to die on the couch. Tesla shuffled into the kitchen behind Mikey’s slender frame to start the rice for him. Mikey thanked Tesla and emptied the cup of water into the pan, happily wiggling as he waited for the water to boil. 

Once bubbles shook the water he turned the stove down to a simmer, and covered the pan. Satisfied with the state of the curry, he sipped the remnants of his hot chocolate. Tesla was clacking away at his computer as Mikey sat next to him. “I’ve got a few minutes before I have to check on it…” He paused to sip at his drink, Tesla turned his head towards him but never took his eyes off the screen. “Wanna give me the intro to what you’re doin?” Mikey offered with a tilt of his empty mug. 

While Tesla gave him the rundown Casey went to get ready. Mikey motioned for him to keep talking while he finished working on the curry. Before long the mouthwatering aroma of their early lunch filled the apartment, luring Casey out and Tesla away from his work. 

They ate in silence, aside from their pleased hums no one felt obligated to start small talk.

It wasn’t until Casey had cleared the dishes, and Mikey started the dishwasher that Tesla finally broke the silence. 

“Michael. As you know I’ve been working on ways to send you home.” Conflicting feelings of fluttering hope and desperate pleas unsaid reared their heads in Mikey’s heart. “I’m getting close. My calculations are starting to stabilize… I think I even encountered signs of a signal reaching out for mine…” Tesla paused, words lingering on his lips as he stared out the window. 

“But?” Mikey offered, dreading whatever Catch 22 awaited him. 

“But… something is very wrong.” Tesla’s forehead furrowed, wrinkling in thought. He snatched the remote off the couch and flipped to a news channel. 

“Reports say people or things are disappearing from thin air.” The lady on screen wore a thoroughly distressed expression as a clip of footage played. On screen Tesla, Casey, and Mikey watched in silent horror as a pair of teens vanished while walking with their friends. The report buzzed into the background as Mikey slowly turned to Tesla. 

“You being here has messed up the flow of time… I think.” Mikey’s breath caught in his throat. “With you and my Mikey being displaced… people… reality is… struggling.” Tesla was at loss for the right words for once. 

“Mikey… you have to go home as soon as possible.” 

- - - - - - - -

Universe: 2012

Day: 3

POV: Raph

“ Yame .” Splinter’s voice stopped him again. This time Raph’s foot was in a weird position, causing him to collapse. The stout turtle flinched as the end of the cane came down loudly in front of his face. “You still aren’t thinking, Raphael.” Raph was yanked to his feet, Splinter scowled at him. “How will you protect your brothers if you can’t fight? Why must you fail at something so simple?” 

Raph glared at the tatami mat, he knew he wasn’t weak. His sensei was just being unfair with him. He wouldn’t get angry, he could control himself. “First you hurt Michelangelo, now you can’t even complete a simple training exercise.” Splinter placed his cane by the tree, and he moved into a fighting stance. 

Oh no… No. Not this again. There was no part of Raph that wanted to spend the next however long getting his shell handed to him. But it’s not like he ever got a say, Splinter’s traditional view on things took that away from him. Splinter seemed convinced hours of training would reshape Raph’s mind. He just wanted to go finish the sweater he was knitting, that would make him feel better. That would calm his mind.

He focused on that. Splinter twisted around to evade and retaliate, Raph predicted this. Hit after hit, they exchanged attacks tit for tat. Raph stayed calm, even as Splinter tested him, throwing insults his way. The hothead refused to be egged on. His tail whipped around and smacked Raph in the face, electric bolts of pain shot from his mouth down his spine. The hit landed squarely over his braces. 

Raph crumpled to the ground cradling his aching mouth in his hands. From the corner of his bleary eyes he noticed Splinter being to reach for him. But his thin hands hesitated, before retreating back into their normal folded stance. 

How much he longed for that though. A gentle touch from his Sensei, his father. Just once he’d like to be helped to his feet, and praised for his effort in one of these sessions. But that’s just a pipe dream, Raph supposed. 

“Yame.” Raph stilled, preparing for whatever came next. “That’s enough for today…” He hesitated, but ultimately ended up turning away. Raph barely so much as breathed until he saw those ornate doors close behind the rat. 

Despite the fight they had earlier, all Raph wanted was to sit in silence with his twin and knit. So he did the only thing he could think of. 

“Leo…?” He knocked quietly, his bag of yarn in one hand, Leo’s favorite drink in the other. He heard an angry muffled voice from inside, he was sure it said “fuck off-” or something of that effect. But Raph wouldn’t be dissuaded, he knocked again “Leo… please. Let’s talk.” He nearly begged, his forehead braced on the door. There was a sigh, and several moments of silence before the door cracked open. “ Just talk?” Leo’s voice was raspy, no doubt from the screaming match they got into. 

“Yeah. Just talking. No fighting. You were right… so so right.” Raph didn’t need to keep groveling as his twin’s door opened, revealing a very tired Leo.The door was left open as his sibling wordlessly flopped back down onto his bed.  Raph followed him in, silently sitting in the desk chair to start knitting. Leo didn’t comment, Raph focused on his project. The twins sat in silence, probably the best part of their day. Raph was almost finished with the second sleeve when Leo spoke up.

“So,” He didn’t bother looking over, both twins knew the other was listening, “I was right, huh?” When they had last spoken, Leo berated Raph for being so harsh when the news had been dropped. Sure, Leo had also chased Mikey, and put a few hits in; Raph was the one who did the most damage. Leo tried to reason with Raph, he said that even though this was a different Mikey, he was still their brother. Raph had a hard time accepting it during the argument. But the more he thought, the worse he felt. His needles sped up, needing to vent his emotions into his project. 

“Yeah. Like it or not… he’s still our bro… and we shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He laughed bitterly. “Fuck’s sake… what's wrong with us?” From the corner of his eye he saw Leo run a hand over his face. “Can’t argue with that. We really messed up, didn’t we?” They both sat there in the silence for a while longer. Leo leaned over to grab something from the chest at the foot of his bed. The blue masked turtle watched Raph cradle his jaw, and pulled out a piece of silicone covered in bite marks. Raph gladly took it, and chewed on it lightly to ease the ache in his teeth. 

Raph propped his foot on Leo’s bed, his stomach took on the ache his teeth had. Mikey’s betrayed face still haunted him, Raph couldn’t close his eyes without seeing that missing tooth or the rapidly forming bruises. Raph groaned into his hands, “We have to apologize…” He let his head slam backwards into the bed, “We can never make up for that… can we?” Now it was Leo’s turn sadly laugh, “Of course not. We don’t deserve his forgiveness… Why are we like this? Until we learned he wasn’t our real brother we still treated him like shit!” 

Raph’s hands clenched into fists. He knew what was wrong, every time he traced their problems back to the root he found the same conclusion. “It’s Sensei.” He grit his teeth, ready to hear Leo flip out, but was surprised to just hear a deep, suffered, sigh. 

“I know…” 

- - - - - - - - -

POV: Mikey (2018)

“I”M WHAT?!” Mikey flipped out, pacing back and forth about the room. 

Tesla held out his hands in a placating manner. “Look- Mikey, I’m cl-close to get… get-” Tesla breathed harshly, trying to gather his words, “Getting a stable connection. We just need to swap you- swap you guys back and everything will be fine for our timeline!” Mikey held his breath, realizing that it was now or never.

“About that…” Tesla and Casey eyed him suspiciously, “With how Raphael… Leo… heck even how Splinter your DAD treated me… treated all of you.” Mikey rubbed his arms to calm himself down.

“Michael… What are you saying?” Tesla’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“It’s not safe here for other me… For you! C… Come back with me Tesla.” Mikey couldn’t bear to witness Tesla’s reaction. Casey growled something under his breath and pulled Tesla away to discuss something in harsh whispers. 

“Casey you could come too! Hell- If you finish your calculations quickly enough, and we get enough time… Maybe Ben- your Mikey could snatch the things he wants and that could be that!” Sweat formed on his forehead as he nervously explained his idea. 

“M. You can’t really expect me- expect us to just… Drop everything and… Move to another universe?? I have a sister! A hockey scholarship lined up! And Tesla’s got his family here dude!” Casey yelled, waving his hands as to drive home his point. Mikey teared up for the umpteenth time since waking up in this world. He didn’t want to make anyone angry with him, he just wanted to help . 

He shouldn’t have assumed, he guessed. After all, they had their entire lives to live here. And if him leaving would fix everything, then maybe he just needed to bide his time until he could go. But damn if he wasn’t going to keep trying to convince them. Benny couldn’t come back to this… But in the end, it wasn’t up to him.

And Mikey was just going to have to be okay with whatever that meant in the end.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay for supernatural/demon lads and ghosthunting MC though.... imagine one of their haunted house sleepovers. The guys torn between scaring off the actual hauntings and *also* liking the way MC snuggles up close when spooky sounds and blips on her camera/sound equipment/etc happen.... Maybe a ouija board session at the witching hour where some narc ghost tries to warn her about three demons clinging to her >:Dc

WAAA omg. omg. omg this gave me an idea i had to-

“... The collapse of the roof in 1755 crushed 4 residents of the asylum.” You were deliberately using your spookiest voice, drained of all but the bare essentials of emotion to get the point across, flashlight in hand. “Since the accident they’ve cleared the damage and fixed the ceiling... but some say the spirits of those killed still wander the halls today, trapped not by rubble... but by the pain that binds their energy to this location.” 

You were still amazed at how steadily Skull could hold a camera. Whenever you looked through footage, even the stuff taken when he was walking, it was as if you had it on a professional electronic rig... you honestly had no idea what you’d do without him. It was pretty damn cold in the building, as it was completely derelict and abandoned, with no windows to furnishings to retain heat- only the concrete foundations remained.

“Visitors to the site have reported tapping on the walls, footsteps, shadows in the corridors, and the smell of brick dus-”

At the sound of tapping very nearby on the old plaster asylum wall, you spun around in shock, shining your flashlight...

... On Red, who was grinning like a bastard, rapping his phalanges on the wall.

“... s’pretty sturdy for an old ass wall.” He purred, pulling an ‘innocent’ face and putting his hand back in his pocket.

“hearing creaks and smelling dust in an old building.” Sans said, with his usual unbothered smile, like all this was just a bad haunted house attraction. “shocking. must be ghosts.”

“Oh, sure, act smug now, you’ll be apologising later when I get paranormal activity on camera.” You mumbled, deliberately shining the light into his face for a moment. You removed your spirit box from your pocket, ignoring the little joking vampire-like hissing sound he made.

The spirit box was your prized possession, your favourite method of communicating with spirits. It was a small black device that somewhat resembled an old walkie talkie; its purpose was to rapidly cycle between radio stations, producing static noise that ghosts could communicate directly with you through. It sounded sharp and horrible and always made the ugliest jittering sound, but even just holding it in your hands made you feel more and more excited.

“... I’ve got a device in my hand.” You said, addressing the room, the building... this was the part you never got over. The part where you spoke directly into the darkness that somehow seemed both smoggy and veil-thin, the part where you could almost feel the unseen eyes in the area turn to you. A shiver ran up your spine... you were certain that if you weren’t flanked by the comforting presences of Sans, Red and Skull, you’d chicken out before you could capture any video. “It’s going to play static that’ll allow you to communicate with us. If you want to, please speak, tell us what happened here.”

“geez. i hate this thing...

... You turned it on. Sans pulled a face, but didn’t make any of his usual complaints, which you appreciated. You stood there, waiting, all four of you staring at the device in your hand... it usually took a little while for something to come through so you weren’t expecting-

“ - - D E M O - N S -”

It blurted out of the box, clear as day, the clearest voice you’d ever heard coming from the box with only a slight jitter from the skipping. It sounded like a man. You jumped, your chest and your eyes widening- “Oh my God... I- what did it say? Did you say demons?”

“- E M O N S - - - I - N - -”

Your hands were shaking- he repeated it. Your full attention was on the box now, your heart was starting to pound. “There are demons here? In the building?”

“- YES-”

It was the same voice, giving you clear replies! This was huge! You couldn’t believe it! You were holding the box like it was a winning lottery ticket, just about losing your mind. “What’s your name? Tell me your name.”

“- -  PLE A S E -” 

You didn’t see the expressions on the guys’ faces. You didn’t notice Red and Sans slip away into the dark, too exhilarated to be expecting their usual cutthroat humour and cynicism.

"Where are the demons? Are they in the building? Can you tell me where they are?”

Something came through the box, but it was too mangled by the static, too impossible to make out. “What did you say? Say that again!”

“- W - - TH -” It was like something was interfering with the transmission. “W I T H - Y O U.”

... What?

“... With me?”

“ T H E - S K E L E T - ”

... It turned off.

...

Everything turned off. Your fully charged torch went dead, Skull’s torch went dead, the camera's lights blinked out. Suddenly, all the noise in the world had vanished... it was so, so deafeningly quiet...

... and the only light was Skull’s blood red iris, staring at you.

...

“... All the stuff just...” 

... You looked around the room, trying to see something in the murky darkness, as if searching the shadows for a reason for the sudden powercut to all your individual devices at once.

“... something wrong?” Skull asked. 

His voice was incredibly gentle.

... It was as if a cloud descended over your mind. Suddenly, just like that, you felt like you’d been plunged into a dream. Nothing seemed... real. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t process... a horrible wave of dizziness accompanied the cloud, creeping over you, prickling at your temples and muddying everything that was going in and out of your brain.

“I-I...” You stopped being able to feel your hands or your death grip on the useless flashlight. The pitch black room was beginning to spin, slowly... “I don’t...”

“hm?” 

“Where’s...” Your eyes were darting about. Pounding head, like it’d been stuffed full of cotton... your lips weighed too much, it was hard to speak. “Where... Sans... Red...?”

“... shh... it’s okay.” 

A big hand softly closed over yours. You knew Skull had big hands, that was something you loved about him... but the one that held you was huge. Your tiny appendage was swallowed whole by thick bones with long, cruel claws... it felt like him, but it didn’t... feel like him...

... What’s going on? Where am I?

... The hand gently led you closer, easily moving you like you were little more than a confused child. His eyelight was in view... his huge, red eyelight... your own eyes were stinging, strained, wide and afraid. The other hand moved close to you but you didn’t even have the presence of mind to flinch as it gently brushed hair out of your face... you just stared up into the eyelight.

He had horns. Skull’s silhouette had huge, curved horns.

“it’s alright.” He murmured, cupping you like a precious baby bird. His voice had become distorted, warped... and even in your state of delirium, you were certain it wasn’t from the headache. “you’re with me. you can let go.” 

The dizziness was becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t even focus on his iris anymore, you couldn’t see, you were either going to pass out or be sick. The distant sound of your flashlight hitting the floor... You pressed your eyes shut to relieve the aching, and tried to say something, but it was just a bleary mumble...

“that’s it.” He purred, the hand holding yours instead moving to your back to support your swaying body. You couldn’t open your eyes again... you didn’t want to. It felt so much nicer closed, the discomfort was muffled. “don’t need fight. none of this... ever happened.”

... You were vaguely aware of him catching your tipping body and scooping you up into his arms before everything went completely dark.

[darkisrising]

81 and 14 for din/boba/luke?

Hello anon! Sorry for the delay! As requested, here's a little trope mash-up for you, I hope you like it! Thanks for playing :-) Prompt: Bobadinluke 81. The Missus and the Ex 14. Bodyguard AU

Death threats start piling up for Leia, though it isn’t a surprise. Not with a senatorial campaign announced and the Organa name back in the news for the first time since “The Incident."

"The Incident" which had somehow, indelibly, publicly linked the Organa name with a Skywalker secret twin. "The Incident" which had ended with Leia’s then-boyfriend, now-husband knocking— throwing? depending on what conspiratorial corners of the internet you frequent and what angle of the cell footage you’re partial to linking to— Luke’s then-boyfriend into a thirty-foot pit.

The boyfriend had lived, but it was a near thing, or so Din had been told. Their relationship hadn’t lasted much longer after that.

“But now there’s you,” Luke said one time when the subject had come up. Crawling into Din’s lap, wrapping his arms around Din’s neck, he'd smiled. “Just don’t go around uncovered pits with Han and you should be fine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Din rumbled between kisses as he’d splayed Luke’s lower back with one palm and pulled him in closer.

Since Din stays away from both the news and social media religiously, he'd mostly put the ex and the pit out of his mind after that. Life went on. He and Luke get serious, and then after six months of fitting their lives around each other— weekend lunches at the garage where Din eats with greased-up overalls while Luke steals his fries, morning coffees sipped together as a bleary Luke collects his spill of graded papers from the kitchen table— they get serious.

Din buys a ring and Luke cries with happiness. They pick a date— after the election, but before the new school year starts up again— and after that the biggest drama is whether the dry cleaner will find Din’s lost suit before Leia’s fundraising dinner or whether he’ll be forced to buy a new one.

That is until the day Din goes to grab the mail expecting bills and finds instead a note that's been painstakingly assembled with tiny magazine letters to read: “YouLL b DeAd B4 yOuR iN THe piT skYwLkR.”

For Din’s money, he’s betting it’s the ex. Luke doesn’t agree.

“How can you be sure?”

“For one thing, Boba knows the difference between possessive your and you-are you’re.” Luke smirks, amused, and it’s like he isn’t even worried about threatening letters being sent to their home. “I’m sure it’s the same person harassing Leia. Now that everyone knows I’m her brother, it’s probably connected.”

“Hm,” Din says, unconvinced, and Luke takes his hand between both of his and gives it a squeeze.

“But if it’ll make you feel better I can ask around. Find out what Boba’s up to these days. If I hear he’s got photos of me all over his walls with the eyes cut out or something we can start to worry.”

Which is how it happens that Din comes down the stairs in his new, sharp-edged suit, as ready as he can be for this fundraiser of Leia’s, to find a very large, scarred, bald man in their living room. A very large, scarred, bald man that is also wearing a suit, and Luke smiles over at Din, nice and sunny and says “You look amazing,” before introducing him to Boba.

They shake their greeting and Din half expects the ex to try some kind of macho, dominance move and squeeze the shit out of his hand but he doesn’t. His brown eyes take in Din with an open, frank assessment and when Boba says “Good to meet you,” they both know he’s lying.

“Boba’s got a bodyguarding business now!”

“Personal protective services. But, yeah, amounts to the same thing.” The smile he throws over his shoulder to Luke is unbearably fond and Din, who has never once had a possessive or jealous thought about a lover in his life, feels his hands curl into fists at his side. “When I heard about the death threats I offered my professional services.”

“Death threat. Singular,” Din finds himself correcting, even though up until this moment he’d been the one complaining that Luke wasn’t taking it seriously enough. “That’s kind of you but I’m sure you have more important people to—”

“More important than Sunshine? Nah,” he says and Luke beams, as devastatingly bright as his ex’s nickname for him and Din frowns. “Anyway, I thought I’d tag along at this fundraiser, see if anyone suspicious shows.”

“I’m sure all you’ll find there is dry chicken and even drier politicians, but I know Din will be glad to know there’s someone keeping an eye on me.”

“Oh, I won’t take my eyes off you all night,” Boba assures, and yet he’s looking at Din when he says it. “Especially in this suit. You look good, Sunshine.”

“And you don’t look so bad yourself.” Luke doesn’t sound like he’s flirting. He sounds exactly like he’s talking to Han or Leia or anyone else that he’d rather die than make a pass at, and yet Din can’t help but read more into that friendly, bantering tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit before.”

Boba snorts. “This suit? It’s so old it might have belonged to my father.”

“Well you wear it well,” Luke says and then turns to Din. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Din says and he lets Luke take his hand and lead him out to the car.

He’s all-too aware of Boba’s steady, dark eyes on them as they walk on ahead, and Din’s now not sure he’s the one sending death threats, but he is sure of one thing: if Boba’s not planning on killing Luke, he’s planning on fucking him.

Either way, Din’s going to have to stay vigilant since it’s becoming clear that, when it comes down to it, Luke has a blind spot the size of Boba-fucking-Fett on his radar.

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Chapter 3 "Steak Dinner" (Blue Birds| Blue! Engineer x Reader)

The sights of the desert town known as Teufort passed by as Dell drove. I watched as the desert terrain transformed into a small town. The rough road smoothed out a little as we drove past the “Welcome to Teufort” sign that had been graffitied. All the while, I watched Dell’s left hand. He had left his glove on. Dell parked his car in front of the steak restaurant. He jumped out of the truck and came around, opening the door for me. “Such a gentleman,” I said. Dell simply smiled, grabbing my hand and helping me get out of the car.   “Spah taught me well,” he said. “I had enough time to learn a little somethin’.”  I chuckled. We walked to the entrance of the restaurant. “Well, I don’t think you need lessons from Spy,” I said. “I think you’re fine being yourself. Besides, I’ve seen the footage of his “lessons” with Scout. All the montages hurt my head.” We both laughed. To be honest, the lessons really did cause me headaches. Too many wasted buckets of chicken. Dell went ahead and opened the door. “M’lady,” he said. I smiled. I pressed a kiss against my fingers and blew the kiss towards Dell. He blushed, following behind. The room was filled with chattering people. “Take a seat,” Dell said. “I’m gonna go confirm our reservation.” I took a seat near the entrance and Dell took off. He later returned with a ticket in hand. “What’s that for?” I asked. Dell sat next to me. “It’s our number,” he said. “They’ll call us up when our table is ready. We’re number 14.” I rested my head on his shoulder. Dell looked at me, I could tell. He snaked his arm around me.  “One Mississippi,” I said. “Two Mississippi,” he replied. We counted about one hundred Mississippis before the waiter called out for number fourteen, party of two. “That’s us,” Dell said, standing up. I stood up with him and the waiter led us to a small table near the window. The waiter put down the menus. “What would you like for beverages?” he asked. I looked at the menu. “I will take a F/d, easy ice, please,” I replied. “I’ll have a Blue Shed, please,” Dell said.  “Alrighty then.” The engineer put down his menu and looked at me. I blushed. “What is it?” I asked. “Nothin’,” he said. “You remind me of a bluebird. Pretty and beautiful, especially around spring.” I softly chuckled. “Dell, you know how to flatter a girl,” I said. He smiled. “I wanna do this again,” he said. “How does next week sound? I’ll take ya somewhere else.”  “That would be great!” I exclaimed.  “When are ya free?” Dell asked. The waiter returned and placed down our drinks. “Thanks,” I said.  “What will you be having?” he asked, pulling out a pen and paper. I looked at the menu. “I’ll have the Caesar salad and the steak, well done,” I replied. “And you, sir?” “I’ll have what she’s having,” Dell said. “Oh, and I have a coupon.” He handed the waiter his coupon. “Thank you,” the waiter said. “I will return.” I turned my attention back to Dell. “So where were we?” I asked. “Ah yes, next week. I’ll have Stella take my shift for next Friday.” “Friday’s good,” he replied. “I’ll sneak out while Solly’s trainin’ the others.” I giggled. Watching clips of the Blu Soldier was like a feel good reality T.V show. The waiter returned with our food. We said our thanks and began to eat. We talked about things we liked, like favorite colors, animals, shows, books, and more. “Say Dell, why are you wearing your glove?” I asked. He blushed, looking down at his hand.  “Oh well, I uh,” he stuttered. He slowly pulled back some of the yellow fabric to reveal some metal wiring. I gasped. “Did you lose it?” I whispered. He shook his head. “I cut it off so I could perfect the Gunslinger,” he replied. “It hurt, but it was worth it. Medic said he could fix my hand whenever I needed it back.” “Do the others know?” I asked. “Mr. Mann probably doesn’t know. The blueprints are all yours.” “Yeah, the others know,” he replied. “I haven’t told anyone else but my friends and you.” I placed my hand over his Gunslinger. “I will appreciate you no matter what,” I said. “Even if you turn into a cute bird every

Halloween, I’d still care for you.” He smiled. “I know we just met today and we’re just friends,” Dell said, “but when Mr. Mann brought us in to interview us, I couldn’t keep my eyes off ya.” I blushed. “Miss Pauling brought you over,” I replied, remembering the day the new Blu team walked through that door. “I stayed to help interview the heavy and scout but I was feeling sick.” “I remember,” Dell said. “I also remember we didn’t say anything.” I laughed. “I didn’t even see you,” I replied. “I was so sick I nearly broke down the door rushing out of there.” We both laughed. “Can I try somethin’?” Dell asked. I nodded. He cut a piece of his steak and stabbed it with his fork. “Open wide.” I opened my mouth and Dell put a piece of meat in my mouth. I chewed and gulped it down. “That was delicious,” I said. “Let me try.” I cut a piece of meat and did the same with Dell. He chuckled as I put the food in his mouth. All night along, we continued to feed each other until we were ready to leave. We paid the bill, splitting it between us. We even tipped the waiter. Dell led me back to the truck and opened the door for me.  We drove back to my house. I gave him directions so that he could pick me up again next week. Grandma was already home. Her blue buggy was parked in the driveway. Dell parked the car. “I’ll see ya next week,” he said. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight Dell,” I replied. “I had fun tonight, see you next week.” I kissed his cheek and exited the car. Tonight really was fun.

[lovely-angst]

a glimpse of the past

//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 299!

pairing: hawks x reader

genre: fluff and angst

word count: 2.7k

summary: Hawks’ past was unknown to you and you were okay with that, for now at least. But when your quirk had gone out of control and you find yourself in an unfamiliar location, you spot a pair of very familiar wings.

a/n: my writing is kinda rusty here, sorry!

02.05.21

-

Hawks was different—not in a bad way, but in a mysterious way.

You knew so many things about him, but there were more things that you didn’t know about him.

These things he kept a secret from you didn’t keep you from loving him any less. Though there were times when it hurt because he kept them from you, Hawks would always press a soft kiss to your forehead, saying, “When the time comes, I’ll tell you.”

And because you loved him, you waited.

There were days where the only time you got to see your boyfriend was when he was on the news. Even after a rough battle against some villain, he still smiled bright and warm—It was easy to miss a person like him.

The days when he would be able to come home were your favorites by far. It usually consisted of nothing more than chicken take-out and lots of cuddles, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks was set out for a complicated mission, possibly one of the most critical missions, he explained, sparing you no further information for your safety.

It was almost time for Hawks to report to the commission as he stood in the apartment’s cozy living room the two of you shared. Your gentle hands lightly brushed away stray wrinkles on his jacket before you glanced up at him with a comforting smile.

“I’ll miss you,” he says quietly, “so much.” Your hand brushes his hair back more before you press a kiss onto his forehead, “me too.”

“Do you think you could use my quirk on you?” you ask carefully, watching as Hawks gives you a rueful smile. “Are you sure, birdie? You might not like what you see.” He could see the hesitant look in your eyes.

Your quirk allowed you to see a glimpse into the future of the person you touched as if you were there in person. If you were able to get a good hold on them, for example holding their hand, you could see the scene clearer and with greater detail.

Hawks was right to warn you—what if you saw him dead in the future?

Shaking the terrifying thought from your mind, you nodded before grabbing onto his hands. “Just to keep me from worrying more. Did you want me to tell you what I’ll see?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile and you smiled back before closing your eyes, allowing your quirk to activate.

Structures began to take place in the black canvas of your mind before you found yourself standing in the middle of debris from a destroyed building. Turning your head, you saw Hawks in Tokoyami’s arms as the two seemed to be escaping.

Turning your head, your eyes caught on to the smoke flowing from one of the rooms, blue fire seemed to peek through gently before a shadow stood in the doorway.

Suddenly, your body came back to the present as you opened your eyes to see Hawks staring at you somewhat worriedly. “Are you okay? You seemed a little distressed while you were gone there.”

All you could do was offer him a small sorry. “I can’t seem to tell if it’s good or bad, but you were with Tokoyami. The two of you seemed to be escaping from a lot of smoke and what seemed like blue fire.”

With that, Hawks gave you a comforting smile before leaning in to place a kiss onto your forehead, “Thanks dove, keep the nest warm for me.” You nod with a chuckle from his words—he loved referring to the apartment as a nest.

When he began to walk out to the balcony ready to take off, you quickly ran over to him to pull him in for a kiss, “I love you, do your best.” Hawks stared into your eyes full of love and adoration before he too pressed a kiss onto your lips, “Will do, and I love you too,” and with that, Hawks took off.

The mission wasn’t carried out until three days later, when there had finally been a news report.

The news didn’t report much on the battle because of how dangerous it was at the scene. From what they could report on, they managed to collect footage from helicopters on all the destruction done.

The battle was all the news outlet seemed to cover. Your heart pounded in your chest every time you watched the news—you couldn’t seem to pinpoint Hawks anywhere on the footage they showed, with wings as large and red as his.

Hawks was often away for missions, but you felt especially lonely this time around. It seemed all of Tokyo was waiting to see the aftermath of all of this destruction.

All you could do was hope Hawks was okay.

-

Your phone jingled beside you as you glanced down to find Tokoyami’s ID flashing on your screen.

“Hello? Tokoyami? Is everything okay?” you asked worriedly. “I’m fine, I just thought you might want to come visit Hawks. The hospital is allowing close friends and family to visit, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

Your eyes teared up from his thoughtfulness. You made it a mental note to treat the student someday.

“Thank you for calling me Tokoyami, I’ll be on my way.” and with that, you hung up the phone before quickly making your way to the hospital.

It had been a few days since the war against the villains had ceased. Those injured were hospitalized right away, including your lovely boyfriend. He wasn’t allowed any visitors at the time, but it seemed things were beginning to look up.

Approached the hospital, it wasn’t easy making your way through the large group of news reporters, fans good and bad alike. Thankfully you were able to pass through into the hospital thanks to some of Hawks’ hero friends.

As you made your way through the hospital, you noticed Tokoyami standing outside Hawks’ room. “Tokoyami,” you greet loud enough for the student to hear as he turned to give you a polite bow.

“I want to thank you again for the phone call and for looking out for Hawks,” you confess, “I saw you saving him through my quirk,” Tokoyami looked shocked before he composed himself and gave you a nod. Reaching over, you pulled the boy in for a comforting hug.

“Hawks is alive because of you. You’re an amazing hero, Tokoyami. Don’t forget that, okay?” Pulling away, the young man gives you a shy smile before he nods. “Thank you, (Name)-san.”

Turning towards the door, you rest your hand on the door handle, hesitating, only to hear Tokoyami’s voice cut through your thoughts. “It’ll be alright, (Name)-san. He’s been waiting for you.”

It was your turn to nod at the male before you slide the door open, stepping inside the too quiet room filled with the constant beeps of the hospital equipment.

With a deep breath, you brush past the curtains to see your boyfriend glancing out the window from where he laid on the hospital bed. Your heart broke seeing him hooked up to multiple machines, bandages wrapped nearly around his whole body, but that wasn’t the worst part—his wings were missing.

Gently, you knocked on the door, signaling your arrival. Right away, you noticed the panicked look in his eyes as he turned to you, your smile faltering as a result. Did he not want you here?

Cautiously, you walk over to his bed, pulling out a chair for yourself as you made yourself comfortable beside his bed. “Tokoyami called me over,” you say with a gentle tone, “he’s a really nice kid, remember to treat him well.”

The overpowering feeling of trying to repress your tears that threatened to slip out was difficult. You told yourself you’d be strong for Hawks, but seeing him in such a state—it was almost impossible.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry,” you say with a small chuckle as you began to wipe at your tears, “but it’s hard not to cry when I see you all bandaged up like this and hooked to all this equipment.” You sniffle once more, glancing over at Hawks, only to find him staring at you.

You really tried to get Hawks to settle down, but he just didn’t seem comfortable with you around. With a frown, you glanced over at him, “You look really nervous and tense right now, Hawks. Do you not want me here?”

His gold eyes shot to yours, even more, panicked now than before. Your brows furrow sadly as you watched your struggling boyfriend. Suddenly, he pointed to his throat before your eyes widened, “You can’t speak?” He nods.

Turning, you search through your bag before pulling out your phone, pressing on the notes app before handing it to him, “you can use my phone if you’d like.”

Taking your hands in his, he begins to type away before pressing the speaker button, letting your phone read out his message, “I do want you here. I just didn’t want you seeing me like this.” Giving him a sad smile, you leaned over towards him before pressing a kiss on his forehead, “Don’t be silly. How are you feeling though? Physically and mentally?”

“Not good. Tired physically and mentally,” you frowned from his comment, wishing there was more you could do for him. “I’m sorry to hear. If it makes you feel any better, I plan on staying overnight at the hospital. I was able to get work off.”

His eyes softened and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. “I love you, you know. I’d never leave you when you’re struggling,” Hawks glances down at the phone, typing a quick message before letting it play. Your laughter fills the air before you shake your head, “and even if you’re not struggling.”

Times like these sucked, but Hawks was glad that you were here to help him.

Throughout the day, Hawks slept like a log from his exhausted and medicated state. Thankfully, the doctors had informed you that he was healing exceptionally well and even if it took some time, his wings were bound to grow back.

The nurses would occasionally come in to check on Hawks and change any bandages as they needed to, making sure he was healing at his potential.

It was past 11 at night when you had woken up from a late nap. You had moved the long sofa from the window over beside Hawks’ bed to be closer to him at night.

Sitting up, you decided to check up on Hawks, who was still sleeping. Pushing the sofa back enough to stand between the sofa and the bed, you hovered over Hawks, brushing his messy bangs back slightly. He looked so much more peaceful asleep.

And thankfully, he was doing just fine. Letting out a relieved sigh, you shut your tired eyes before placing your hand on his, but suddenly, your quirk activated itself.

You found yourself falling into the dark abyss. Your surroundings began to take shape and it wasn’t long before you found yourself in an unfamiliar place.

Glancing around, you observed the soft clouds that drifted along the bright blue sky. You could see what seemed to be the main town in the distance, filled with tall and large buildings alike.

“Keigo!”

Hearing a sudden shout, you quickly turned around to find an old rundown shack that laid out in the middle of nowhere. “Who’s Keigo?” you thought to yourself as you quickly glanced around before making your way to the shack.

Peeking through the worn out doorway, your eyes glanced around at the torn up shack and how mangled up the place was. It seemed as if someone was living in this shack.

You caught a glimpse of the woman who sat on the floor silently, but the tense man had caught your attention.

The rugged looking man seemed to be fuming with anger. It wasn’t until he kicked the small child that sent you shooting towards him, “Hey! Leave them alone!” you cried as you tried to push the man away, only to phase through him and onto the ground.

Turning around, your eyes were met with familiar red wings, but this time smaller. As the man walked away, the child leaned over to grab the Endeavor doll that had gone flying from the impact of the kick.

“An Endeavor doll?” you questioned, glancing up to take a look at the young boy. That’s when it all clicked, “Hawks?”

Suddenly, the black abyss opened back up above you. The scene began breaking and shooting up before you too went flying up into the emptiness.

Your quirk was fading—you were waking up.

Gasping awake, your breathing was heavy and labored as your eyes quickly scanned the area before they landed on Hawks, this time from the present. His hands gripped your forearms tightly as a worried expression crossed his face.

Gently, his hands slid up until they landed on your cheeks, holding your face in his hands as you began to sob uncontrollably. Everything you had just seen and heard was too much for you to handle.

His thumbs caressed your cheeks in efforts to comfort your shaken form.

You didn’t know why your emotions seemed to burst out of you, but you had an idea it was because of how you had seen a glimpse Hawks’ past—something he had kept a secret from you.

“Hawks,” you choked, staring into his gold orbs, “m-my quirk activated when I touched you, but it sent me to the past instead, your past.” His hands faltered slightly against your cheeks. Reaching up, you placed your hands on what you could manage on his cheeks before whispering,

“Keigo, that’s your real name, isn’t it?”

Hawks’ eyes widened as he pulled away from you, shaken from hearing his name come from your lips. Dragging your hands down, you slip your smaller ones into his, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“I got a glimpse of your past. I saw that little shack you lived in. I think those adults in the room were your parents. He was calling you ‘Keigo,’ and you were just a little boy.”

Hawks shut his eyes with furrowed brows as you recalled what you had seen. If he was honest, this wasn’t how he wanted you to find out, especially when he was roughed up and stuck in the hospital.

But he was also relieved to have it off his chest—fate must’ve played a role in this.

Guilt slowly began to eat at you as Hawks sat quietly on his hospital bed, not paying you any attention as he hung his head low. Was it a mistake telling him about his past?

“I’m sorry,” you start awkwardly, “it wasn’t my place to say all of this. Um, I’m just going to step out for a few minutes. I didn’t mean to-” Before you could say or get any further, Hawks tightened his grip on your hands, keeping you in place. “Hawks?”

Releasing your hands, he made a gesture to your phone before you leaned over to grab the device for him. You sat in anticipation as you watched him type away before the robotic voice filled the room.

“I didn’t want you finding out like this,” You could only manage a sad smile, his fingers typing away once more. “Once I heal and once my voice is back, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” you try, but Hawks shook his head, “I can’t keep hiding this from you.”

With a shaky breath, you nod. Hawks was set on his decision and you would go to him with an open heart and with open arms. He trusts you and you trust him back. 

Lying back down on the sofa that sat beside his bed, you reached over his hand once more before making yourself comfortable, “For now, let’s go to sleep. You need to rest, my sweet bird. I love you, have a good night.” you say. 

Closing your eyes, you could only hear Hawks getting himself comfortable in his bed before a few taps were heard. 

“Good night, I love you too, chickadee.”

[wyn-n-tonic]

Same Time, Same Place -- Part III

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: None? Author's Note: It's taken me so painfully long to get this to you all, I'm so sorry. I'm not the most stoked about it but I needed to get this out. I also think that this is a good place for it to rest on. I don't know if the story is done but I do know that I've been stressing myself out about updating this and it's causing me to falter and not be able to produce what I feel is the best update I can. Thank you so much for reading!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST SIGN-UP | PREVIOUS | NEXT

“He kissed you in a chicken coop,” Becca says slowly, “and then you shared leftover enchiladas?”

“It was nice,” you tell her, “he was going to make me a steak but after petting the damn cow, I couldn’t do it.”

“Jesus Christ,” you can hear the roll in her eyes, “you pet a cow too? He’s really giving you the Texas treatment.” 

“It was nice!” 

“Fucking city girl,” she laughs, “was the sex good?”

You stop your pacing back and forth, “we, uh—“ 

“You didn’t have sex with him?!” 

“No, it was just a lot of kissing,” you say, “and laughing. He let me name the chickens.” 

“That's so strange.” 

Nerves pool in your belly, an anxiety you haven’t felt since college, “what’s strange?” 

“Just that he…” she pauses, clearly thinking of how to phrase it, “invites you to his ranch while his dad is away after being incredibly flirty and suggestive with you for weeks, kisses you in a goddamn chicken coop like this is a high school kegger, feeds you fucking leftovers and then doesn’t even fuck you.”

“He’s a gentleman, Bec."

“This is Laredo,” she takes on a tone now, “there are no gentlemen in Laredo.” 

You turn, catching sight of the oven timer counting closer down to alarm and steady your newfound insecurity long enough to say your goodbye. —————

“Nirvana, they’re grunge,” you say incredulously, “you don’t know what grunge is?”

Javi is two banana nut muffins deep into this morning, eating like he hasn’t in days, and he laughs around a bite right in your face.

“No,” he covers his mouth, “but whatever the fuck it is, it sounds like it needs a bath.” 

At that, Chucho excuses himself to find a bathroom, having partaken in most of the coffee you brought along this morning and the air shifts in his absence, that insecurity coming back to you now.

“Can I—“

“Javi—“ 

He laughs, gesturing for you to go first as you gesture the same to him, begging him to take the lead in this.

“Panaderita,” his tone stern, “ladies first.” 

You tuck your bottom lip beneath your teeth, pulling on it as your nerves start to get to you. As you serve for the words you felt on the tip of your tongue only moments ago.

He lifts his eyebrows looking down at you and you try to hold back a giggle when you notice the crumb in his mustache.

“I'm waiting.” 

“Did I—“ you take a deep breath, “—do something wrong?” 

Confusion marks his face as his hands cage around your arms, one for each, “why would you think you did something wrong?”

You shake your head, that insecurity melting away, “it’s nothing, Becca just got in my head, please say what you were going to say.” 

“What'd she get in your head about?”

He pushes your hair out of the way, his eyes heavy behind the aviators perched on his nose. He’s concerned.

“I was talking to her about last Saturday and how we hadn’t really talked since then and she asked if we slept together and I’m…” you exhale, your lungs finally free of their vice, “not really used to men not trying to get into my pants first thing.” 

Smiling, “can I take you out?” 

“I—yes.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “are you going to try to get into my pants?” 

He runs his hand through his hair, “look, I haven’t dated in a really long time, let me take you on a proper one not surrounded by cow shit.” 

He leans down, a breath away from you when you say, “yes,” and catches your lips with his. His mustache is a tickle against your skin, the coarseness a sharp contrast to the soft curls you acquainted yourself with last week. —————

“What’s behind your back, Jav?”

You followed the directions he gave you perfectly and parking your car next to his pick-up back up on the road. It’s been twenty feet of walking and there he is, standing broad against the backdrop of the sun.

“Get over here,” he calls out, “and I’ll show you.”

He insisted you make a cake for him again but not something you think he wants this time. Nothing fancy. Javi requested your favorite and it just so happened to be the simplest in your Arsenal; strawberry with the thinnest layer of cream cheese icing you could manage.

“That looks delicious,” he eyes the clear container in your hands as you draw closer, leaning down for a kiss, “can’t wait to taste that one.” 

“What happened to blaming me for making you fat?”

“Eh, old men get fat.”

“You’re not old, Javier, your knees still work,” you whisper, “now what’s behind your back?” 

He cups your head in one of his hands and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he takes the container from your grip and presses flowers back into it. Yellow, pulled straight from the ground.

“Noticed you didn’t get any yesterday so I grabbed these,” he grabs at the rough ends of the small bouquet, “literally.” 

“I love them,” you say, “they're my favorite color.” 

“I figured,” he says, stepping to the side and bending to set the cake down.

In front of you is a blanket spread out in the grass of the small field, a pizza box resting in the middle and a bottle of wine.

He reaches his hand out, beckoning you to join him, “I told you I’m not very good at this dating thing but I did remember you like pepperoni.” 

“I don’t know,” you take your spot next to him, “this is really nice.”

For hours, you sit there in the late sun of the early evening, talking and listening to the crickets come out. 

You tell him about how the noise of the city just got to you, pressed in on you and you needed a fresh start. Quiet to hear your own voice and feel yourself for once and so you came to Texas. 

Told him how Becca was your college roommate and helped you get set up, find your apartment and get a job.

“Do you like the job?”

“It pays the bills.” 

“I think you could open up a bakery,” he says. His long body is stretched out now and he presses his head back into his hands, “I think you’d do really well at that.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” you nudge his food with yours, “what about you, Javi? What brought you back to Laredo?” 

“I’ve, uh—“ he takes a deep breath, “been away for a while, work got to be too much and now I don’t really know what I want to do but I know I don’t want to be that guy anymore and I want a sense of normality even if I think I don’t deserve it.” 

“Before I met you, your dad told me you were in Colombia with the DEA—“ he punctuates your statement with a nod, “—I saw the footage coming from there, it was all over the news. I can’t imagine.”

“I'd never want you to.”  

You sit in silence for a moment, both of you stretched out looking at the stars with only your arms ghosting against each other.

“Hey, Javi,” you whisper.

“Yes, Panaderita?”

“For what it’s worth,” you take his hand in yours, “I think you deserve it.” 

TAGLIST: @a-bang-for-your-bucky​ @amneris21​ @apascalrascal @bdavishiddlesbatch​ @casualpalacebagelrascal @danniburgh​ @darnitdraco​ @dobbyjen​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @evelynseventyr​ @gracie7209​ @green-socks​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @hnt-escape​ @icanbeyourjedi​ @justanotherblonde23​ @klaine-92​ @knivesareout​ @lachicapequena​ @leonieb​ @lexi-b-writes​ @liviiii98​ @mariesackler @marvelousmermaid​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @mssarahpaulsooonn @notcookiebelle​ @omlwhatamidoinghere​ @pascalslittlebrat​ @phoenixpascal​ @phrog-seeds @pilothusband​ @princess76179​ @purplepascal042​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @salome-c​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @sleep-tight1​ @soyelfuegoquearde​ @starlightmornings​ @talesfromtheguild​ @the-feckless-wonder​ @wheresarizona​ @wille-zarr​

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 2: Casual Friday the 13th

Previous Chapter - AO3 Link - MSR, rated E

He gives himself a pep talk on the way to work the next morning. It feels ridiculous.

Just ask her out, he thinks. Be casual. Invite her to grab a drink, act like you’re going whether she joins you or not. It’s just Scully.

That’s some bullshit; she’s not just anything to him. She’s everything.

Also he doesn’t go to bars much, and never alone, so he’s not sure how subtle this will be.

He pushes the thoughts out of his head until they’re leaving the office at the end of the day, gathering their things and donning winter layers.

“Buy you a drink, Agent Scully?” he tosses out casually, taking her coat from the rack.

“Hm, what’s the occasion?” she asks.

“Friday the thirteenth; I’m testing my luck,” he replies, holding her coat open for her.

She slips her arms into the sleeves. “I guess one wouldn’t hurt,” she decides.

Huh. That was surprisingly easy.

He chalks it up to beginner’s luck and ushers her out the door with a hand on her back.

They end up at Casey’s Bar because it’s close to the Hoover Building, and neither of them had wanted to walk too far through the cold February night. Mulder’s a little nervous, but not enough to let it show. At the risk of being overconfident, he thinks it’s actually going pretty well. This outing is markedly different from every first date he’s had in the past. There’s no need for small talk with Scully, no pressure to act more gregarious or charming than he naturally is. Scully herself is a refreshing presence, like a crisp spring breeze. Cool without being austere, gentle and yet invigorating.

Also she doesn’t know it’s a date, so there’s that.

They perch at the far end of the counter and shoot the shit, talk about work. She orders a draught beer, and seeing the large glass in her little hand makes his stomach flutter nonsensically. He orders one too, just to keep pace with her, though he suspects she could drink him under the table if the occasion ever arose. The thought is strangely erotic.

Mulder watches her full pink lips press against the edge of her glass and he clears his throat awkwardly. Down, boy. He scrambles for a diversion.

“Any special plans for tomorrow night?” he asks, taking a foamy swallow of beer.

“What’s- oh.” Scully sets down her glass. “No, not this year,” she says softly.

He suddenly feels like a prick.

“You?” she asks, because she’s a polite human being.

Diffuse the moment, buddy. “I’ve got a pretty hot date, actually.”

Her shoulders stiffen momentarily. Interesting. “Oh?” she says lightly.

“Yeah, the boys invited me over to pick apart some found footage they stumbled upon. Frohike’s making chili.”

Scully’s face breaks into a smile, and he feels a wash of relief. She shakes her head. “You know, for about two seconds I thought you might actually have a life. It was a surreal experience.”

“I have a life, Scully,” he insists. It’s you. Aliens, conspiracy, and you.

“Mhm,” she hums, licking a bit of stray foam off her upper lip, causing a twinge south of his belt buckle. “Mulder, can I ask you a highly personal question?”

He coughs awkwardly. “No guarantees that I’ll answer, but sure. Hit me.”

She suddenly seems nervous. “Well… we’ve known each other for five years now, and we spend a lot of time together. I’ve met your mother, your friends. And in all that time, I’ve not known you to go on a single date.”

Besides this one, he thinks. “And?” he prompts.

She absently wipes her finger through the condensation on her glass. “Well, I can’t figure out why not. Your - preferences - are quite evident, and I’m sure finding a willing partner would be fairly easy for you, at least for… casual encounters.”

I don’t want casual encounters, he thinks. I want to burn pancakes for you on Sunday mornings.

He huffs out a breath of laughter. “I have it on good authority that I’m not the best company, Scully. What makes you think it’d be easy?”

She takes a long pull of her beer. “Because you’re very attractive.”

His heart stops momentarily, then starts back up at twice the speed. He scrambles for some composure. “Oh, so you think I’m attractive,” he teases lightly. He hopes she doesn’t notice the sudden tremble in his fingers.

Scully nods, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on him. “Yes, I do. A lot of people do, Mulder,” she adds quickly. The lighting in the bar is dim, so he assumes he’s imagining the flush on her cheeks. Or it’s the beer. “The women’s restroom at the Bureau is a cesspool of gossip.”

“Well I’m not the only hot piece of ass in the X-Files division,” he says, glancing at her over the rim of his glass.

“Don’t let Skinner hear you say that,” she quips. “He’s shy.”

Mulder grins, amused by her deflection. “People talk about you too, Scully. I’ve had to fend off suitors for you more than once.” Now it’s her turn to squirm, he thinks.

She blinks rapidly. “You’re joking.”

Mulder chuckles. “Swear. Every once in a while a guy will ask me something about you. I tell ‘em to ask you themselves, and I assume they usually chicken out.”

“What kind of things do they want to know?”

Mulder shakes his head. “Let’s just say they’re not asking me your favorite color,” he says simply, lifting his glass to his mouth once more. “You can imagine the rest.”

Scully presses her lips together. “I don’t have to, unfortunately,” she sighs. “Thanks for having my back,” she adds.

He shrugs. “I’m your partner,” he says. “I’ll always have your back.”

He suddenly remembers a conversation he had a little over a year ago, a month or so before Scully’s birthday. It seems like a fitting time to tell her.

“There’s only been one guy that I thought was alright,” he says. “I, uh, never told you this, Scully, because it was confidential, but seeing as the subject in question is now deceased…”

Scully turns to him on her stool. “Mulder, what?”

“Pendrell. He liked you.”

She knits her brows together in that adorable way she has. “I liked him too.”

“I mean, he really liked you,” Mulder emphasizes. “He asked me once if you were seeing anyone.”

“Oh,” she says. "What did you tell him?”

“I told him ‘Agent Scully’s personal life is her business, and any questions regarding it should be posed to her directly’.”

“Very formal,” she muses. “I should print that on my business cards for you to hand out.”

“The thought’s crossed my mind. Are you currently accepting applications for the position of ‘boyfriend’?” Mulder asks. “I’d be happy to field candidates.”

“Oh, I bet you’d love that,” Scully says with an eye roll. “Admit it, you like interrogating suspects. Especially when you think they’re mutants of some kind.”

“I promise that any potential boyfriends will be firmly terrestrial and completely unremarkable.”

The sentence hangs in the air for a long moment. “I don’t know that I want that after all,” Scully finally says quietly. “The husband with a nine-to-five, the picket fence, the priest over for lunch after Sunday mass. I’ve seen too much, done too much, to really fit into that picture anymore.”

Mulder feels a pang in his chest, the old familiar guilt creeping in. “This is a lonely path,” he admits. “Working nonstop to find evidence, only to have it be discounted offhand.”

“No closure, no arrests, no satisfying conclusions to leave you feeling a little bit safer knowing you did your job,” Scully adds.

Mulder rubs his hand over his mouth, nodding. “Just weird substances that nobody can explain and accounts of phenomena that nobody believes. Spooky shit.”

Scully raises her drink with a sudden levity. “To spooky shit,” she toasts.

Their glasses clink, and the contact chimes in Mulder’s ears. A kiss of half-empty pints.

Mulder bites his lip absently, gathering his next words. “So… what do you want?” he asks carefully, leaning in a fraction.

Scully shakes her head, sighing softly. “That’s the big question, isn’t it? I can’t even think about long term at this point. My life is so different from what I’d planned, and I’m still adapting.”

“Alright, forget long term for the moment,” Mulder prompts. “What’s something that you want that you can acquire within, say, the next month or so?”

“You granting wishes now, Mulder?” she asks coyly, taking a sip of beer.

“Depends on what you ask for,” he replies, voice low.

It feels as though they’re circling the truth, caught in each other’s orbit, traveling an ellipse of the unspoken. He wonders if she feels it too. The beer has him weightless, spinning out into the unexplored reaches of space between them. He wants to grab her hand on the worn bar counter, anchor himself to her sun-warmed earth.

“As strange as it sounds,” she says after a moment, “I’m… oddly contented. If I spent more time on it I’m sure I could give you a whole list of things I feel I’m lacking, but at this moment none of them really matter.”

His heart accelerates. “Must be some beer,” he jokes.

She smiles at him, a soft closed-lip turn of her mouth that warms him better than any liquor. “Company’s not half bad either. Despite whatever good authority has told you otherwise.”

He drops a hand onto hers then, gives it a brief squeeze before returning it to his glass and finishing his beer.

They walk back to the FBI parking garage, arms bumping each other as they brace themselves against the winter chill. Mulder escorts Scully to her car because he’s a gentleman and squeezing out every last second he can with her.

Scully ducks her head, seeming almost shy. “Thanks for inviting me. I haven’t been out in a while,” she says simply. “This was nice.”

Mulder shrugs, suddenly unsure how to orient his limbs. He wants to hug her, but he knows this isn’t the right time. “Don’t mention it,” he replies, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

“Enjoy your ménage à quatre with the Gunmen,” she says with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll save some kisses from Frohike for you,” he replies with a wink.

They face each other, suddenly quiet. It feels as though they waded too far into the ocean and drifted down shore, losing sight of their picnic spot. They float in the silence, buoyed by their exchange, but uncertain as to where they stand.

“Goodnight,” Mulder says finally, because he can’t think of what else to say beyond that and ‘I love you’. Or ‘come home with me’.

“‘Night,” she replies, unlocking her car door and slipping inside.

He wanders aimlessly over to his car and bundles into the driver’s seat, heaving a deep, half-contented sigh. He considers the evening a tentative success, despite a somewhat unsatisfactory conclusion.

He jerks off when he gets home, holding Scully’s sweet face in his mind’s eye as he comes shamefully into his own lonely hand.