#if I fly on the way back then it means I'll be on radio and nav on the way down and that involves wayyyy more prep than just flying

[foreignobjecticus]

Not flying to Scotland tomorrow because weather's bad; flying to Isle of Wight instead. Haven't drawn up my flight plan yet and I've got all this work that's supposed to be done tomorrow and I intended to do it tonight but I have a stomach ache :/

All of this is entirely my fault for doing wayyyyyy too much lately. I'm so tired lol

[itneverendshere]

it's my party, and i'll cry if i want to - r.c

request: I was wondering if you might write a Rafe x reader fic where Rafe forgets her birthday but then makes up with her?

you spent the entire day oscillating between disappointment and sadness. 

crying on your birthday was a common thing when you were growing up, a girlhood achievement. everyone did it.

but now? now that you had rafe? your birthdays were amazing. he always went out of his way to surprise you and cherish you. he would’ve never forgotten something as important as your day. 

at least you didn’t think he would, until today. yeah, long-distance had been tough on both of you since college started, and while rafe usually tried his best to make you feel special, today was different.

it had been radio silence. no messages. no missed calls. not even an instagram story reaction. and now, it was already past midnight, the day officially over. your birthday had come and gone, and he hadn’t acknowledged it once.

you lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to rationalize the situation. 

maybe something came up. maybe he had a family emergency or got caught up in one of his class projects. you wanted to believe that. rafe had never been perfect, but he had always tried when it came to you. this, though? It felt like a gigantic slap in the face. 

the soft sound of your door creaking open startled you from your thoughts. your heart raced in your chest, confused. you lived alone off-campus—no one ever came by unannounced. you sat up, wiping at your tired eyes, and just as you were about to call out, you saw him.

rafe stood there, looking haggard, his clothes slightly wrinkled, his hair messy from a long day. but the sight of him, standing in your doorway, made your heart stop. he was there. in person.

“rafe?” you nearly gasped, “what—what are you doing here?”

his blue eyes were filled with guilt, brows furrowed, he looked like he’d been through hell and back. he dropped his duffel bag onto the floor and took a hesitant step toward you. “baby—” his voice cracked. “’m so fucking sorry.”

you blinked, trying to process what was happening. “sorry for what? for not calling? for forgetting? for ignoring me all day?” you didn’t mean for your voice to sound so broken, but goddamit it was your birthday. and you spent it all alone because you were too depressed to step foot outside your stupid apartment without a text from him.

he took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “didn’t forget, baby. i swear. i was trying to surprise you, i was supposed to be here hours ago, but—” he sighed deeply, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “everything went to shit.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“i booked a flight,” he explained quietly, sitting down on the edge of your bed, his knee brushing against yours. “wanted to fly in and surprise you, to spend the whole day with you for your birthday. i didn’t want to say anything because i thought it’d be more special if i just showed up, y’know? but god must hate me or some bullshit.”

you watched him carefully, your heart beating faster, unsure where he was going with this.

“the flight got delayed—twice. then it got canceled. i spent hours trying to get on another one, but there were no other options. by the time i finally landed, it was already after midnight.” he looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting nervously. “and i know that’s no excuse, but—”

“why didn’t you call me?” you asked, “you could’ve let me know.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “couldn’t. my phone, uh, it broke.”

“what?” you asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“yeah.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “when the flight got canceled for the second time, i—uh—i might’ve thrown my phone against a wall. i was so pissed baby, so stressed because i knew i was ruining the surprise, and then…i couldn’t even call or text you. i was stuck.”

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. the image of rafe, frustrated and angry at an airport, throwing his phone in a fit of rage was almost too ridiculous to believe. 

“so, you didn’t forget?” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. you spent the entire day making up scenarios in your head, about how maybe he’d gotten tired of being with you, how maybe he had found someone new back in college.

“no, god, no,” he shook his head fervently. “i’d never forget your birthday.”

the sincerity in his voice made you want to cry like a baby all over again. there was still the lingering ache of loneliness and insecurity, of the day you spent thinking he had.

“i thought…” you swallowed, unable to hold back the tears, “i thought you didn’t care anymore. that we weren’t… enough. i was scared,” you admitted after a long pause. “that maybe you were pulling away. maybe we weren’t working anymore.”

rafe’s brows furrowed, and he quickly shook his head. “no. never. we’re working, okay? this long-distance bullshit—it sucks. but you and me? it’s forever, okay?”

you nodded slowly, “i really missed you.”

his expression dropped at your words, and in an instant, he was pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. his scent, the feel of him, it was all so familiar, so comforting. you buried your face in his chest.

“shh, baby,” he murmured, his hand running soothingly through your hair as he kissed the top of your head. “’m so sorry. i never meant to hurt you. fuck, i hate that i made you feel like that. i wanted today to be perfect for you.”

you sniffled, trying to calm your breathing as you clung to him. “it wasn’t perfect.”

“i know,” he whispered, “i messed up. should’ve found a way to reach you, should’ve figured it out. you don’t deserve that, not on your birthday, not ever.”

he had tried. he had wanted to be here. and while it hadn’t gone the way either of you planned, his presence now, his arms around you, felt like all you needed.

“you threw your phone?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth despite everything.

rafe’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he chuckled softly. “yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, shattered pretty badly. i don’t even know if I can get it fixed.”

“that’s so stupid.”

he laughed softly at your words, the sound rumbling through his chest where you were still nestled. his arms tightened around you just a little, as if he was scared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “i was so pissed, baby. i thought I was ruining everything.”

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from the tears you’d been holding in all day. “you did ruin it,” you teased softly, though there was no real bite behind your words.

rafe still winced even thought he could tell you were joking, “maybe i could’ve borrowed someone’s phone at the airport, or... i don’t know, sent a smoke signal or something.”

it wasn’t the grand birthday surprise he’d been planning, and it wasn’t the perfect day you had imagined, but right now, having him here—seeing how much he cared—it was starting to feel like enough.

you snorted, “smoke signal, huh?”

he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at you as you audibly cooed at his dimples, "yeah, or, like... maybe hired a skywriter? whatever it took. i would've done anything to get to you."

you chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes, the lingering tears drying up now, “so dramatic.”

“’m serious,” he insisted as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks. “i’d swim across the damn ocean for you if i had to. swear to god, baby. nothing was going to stop me from getting here.”

the love in his eyes took your breath away. he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better; you could see in his face, that he meant every word. the frustration and desperation of the day had taken its toll on him too. he had been trying so hard to be with you, to make your day special, and in that moment, you know much he hated that he couldn’t.

“you’ll make me cry again,” you groaned, feeling your heart swell with emotion. it wasn’t perfect, but the lengths he had gone to just to be with you made you want to kiss him stupid. he was here now, holding you like you were his entire world.

he leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips as he murmured, “’m sorry i messed it up. i hate that you spent the day feeling like i didn’t care. you mean everything to me.”

tour chest tightened, “i felt so alone, didn’t know what to think.”

“i know,” he replied softly, his hands gently holding your face. “but sweetheart, i don’t care if we’re a thousand miles apart, i’ll always be here when you need me. ’m not going anywhere.”

the tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness, only from the overwhelming love you felt for him, for the boy who would go to any lengths just to be by your side.

“i love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you spoke the words.

rafe smiled, his eyes softening as he kissed you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a slow, tender moment. “i love you too. so much.”

you sighed into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his messy hair, pulling him closer. the pressure that had been sitting in your chest all day seemed to disappear as his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, as if he could keep all the hurt and disappointment away just by being near. it was just rafe—his hands gripping you like he couldn’t imagine to let you go, his lips coaxing out all the tension and loneliness you’d felt throughout the day. 

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “so… about the whole swimming across the ocean thing. think you’d be impressed?”

you giggled, rolling your eyes. “you’d probably drown halfway.”

“oh? so what i’m hearing is you don’t want your present.”

you nudged him playfully with your elbow. “i deserve at least three.”

“you want more presents now? greedy.”

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the closeness, “you haven’t even wished me a happy birthday.”

he leaned back, elbows hitting the mattress as his lips morphed into a shit-eating grin, “was planning on doing it inside of you.”

you slapped his stomach, “don’t be disgusting.”

rafe’s grin only grew wider, clearly proud of himself. “just for you, baby,” he teased, sitting up to lean in close again, his lips ghosting over yours as he added in a low whisper, “happy birthday.”

the low timber in his voice and that god-sent southern drawl sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot all about the worst birthday of your life. the way he was looking at you now, like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made everything else seem insignificant.

“you’re lucky you’re hot,” you murmured, kissing him softly, your lips brushing against his with a tenderness that made his heart do that funny thing.

“damn right,” he mumbled against your mouth, kissing you back with more fervor, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “gonna make it up to you. all of it.”

you could only tilt your head back slightly as he kissed his way down your neck, your hands fisting in his hair, “i have class at 8.”

“nah,” he breathed against your skin, nose running up your neck, “you’re not leaving this bed for the next twenty-four hours.”

you couldn't help but smile as his lips trailed over your skin, “twenty-four hours?” you repeated breathlessly, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, your heart fluttering. “you think i’ll skip class for you?”

he grinned against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing, “know you will,” he murmured, his hands wandering over your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

a soft laugh escaped you, "you're so cocky.”

"confident," he corrected with a smirk, lifting his head to meet your gaze. he brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his touch soft despite his rough hands, “i’ll spend the rest of the night making it up to you. making sure you know just how much i love you.”

leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a slow, lingering kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him beneath your hands. 

“i love you,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely a breath, but in that moment, you knew he heard every word.

“i love you more.”

[only-lonely-star]

Your recent fic of the Soda mishap is my new fav fic of the outsiders! It was so funny with just the right amount of angst!

Could I request a fic with a sister reader who is the youngest curtis and develops separation anxiety with Soda after the two of them were in a little fender bender? Neither were hurt but it brought up memories of their parents dying and she can't shake off the thought that Soda not being in her eyesight means he's gone too? She refuses to sleep in her own room goes with him to work (it's summer holidays so school isn't a factor) and anytime he showers she stands outsode the bathroom door asking if he's okay periodically. Just a big emotional breakdown if she happens to get separated from him? I hope that makes sense!

Thanks you!

☁︎ The Accident ☁︎

~ Sodapop Curtis ~

Warnings - Minor car accident, mentions of death, separation anxiety

Summary - You couldn’t imagine losing Sodapop.

Author’s Note - THIS REQUEST WAS MWAH!! CHEF’S KISS! 😽 I’m very proud of this one. It took me longer to write since I got a bit carried away, so I apologize for the long wait. I couldn't bring myself to make the ending sad, so I hope you all like how I closed the story. Thank you so much for requesting, enjoy it my loves !!

Word Count - 3.3k.

»——•——« »——•——« »——•——« »——•——«

You kicked back, finally able to rest after a long morning spent dipping in the lake with your older brother, Sodapop. It was summer break, so what better way to spend the day than being under the sun - swimming and shoving him around in the cool, crisp water? Your oldest brother, Darrel, still had work, even over the summer. Your third oldest brother, Ponyboy, decided he'd rather spend some time with his friends. Being the empath he is, Sodapop decided to drive you down to the lake to ensure you didn't feel left out. He loved spending quality time with you either way - he quite enjoyed your company.

Feet on the dashboard, you turned up the radio and sang along. You could practically feel the funky music thumping in your chest. The bass could be heard a mile away, causing Sodapop to let out a chuckle. "Havin' fun?" he asked, his eyes drifting to see you smile bigger than he ever had since the accident.

You nodded vigorously, a few stray droplets of water that remained on the ends of your hair flying onto Sodapop, dampening his skin. "Of course!" you beamed, removing your feet off the dashboard as you leaned back into your seat.

He gave a head nod of accomplishment at that. Sodapop was glad to have taken you out for a fun time for once. He would have to return to the DX again tomorrow morning, the cycle repeating all over again. "Glad we went swimmin', we could go next weekend or something too y'know..." he suggested, a grin on his lips not faltering once as he offered another trip down to the lake.

You gasped, already looking forward to it. "Really? Like - you'll actually take me again?" you asked, needing the last bit of reassurance before you could truly accept the offer.

He nodded once more, stopping at a red light to gently swat your shoulder with his knuckles. "'Course I'll take you again."

He earned another grin from you at that, proud of himself once more. Sodapop's eyes darted for the rearview mirror, noticing a red Pontiac Firebird riding up on the back of their car. "Well damn, you gonna slow down?" he asked aloud, a slight bit of annoyance in his voice. The car must have been going at least fifteen miles per hour right at the red light. You hadn't paid much attention to it until you noticed Sodapop's eyes go wide. The 'deer in headlights' gaze is the only right way you could describe it. Sodapop cursed under his breath once more, holding his hand out to press against your chest. The sound of screeching breaks against the road scared the both of you as you jerked forward. Sodapop's arm prevented you from moving around that much, but there was still an impact. You slowly opened your eyes, recovering from a wince you hadn't even realized was in effect.

"The fuck - ?!" he hollered, rolling down the window before slamming his hand onto the horn and holding it there to express his anger. Road rage was one thing, but this was totally different. Sodapop rarely acted out on his anger, let alone follow through with it and stick his hand out of the window just to flip him off.

You sat there, breath hitched in your throat as you momentarily dissociated whilst staring at the dashboard.

This was all too familiar for you. ‘The Accident’ is what still haunts the four of you to this day. Having both of your parents wind up in an auto wreck sure wasn’t on your bucket list at all.

It was the sound of the car nearly crashing that frightened you. The fact you could have obtained the same fate as your parents was such a big fear you’d been attempting to hide since the accident. What you dreaded the most was losing your brothers. Put in a life or death situation - you’d hand over your life in an instant if it would ensure your siblings would be safe.

It wasn’t until you realized you and Sodapop were pulled over with that same Pontiac behind you. Slowly returning to reality, the bearded man with salt and pepper-colored hair had his arms resting on the now rolled-down window. “She alright?” he asked, his eyes fixated on you. Your dazed expression had been permanently marked onto your face.

Sodapop scanned your face for any other emotion, but couldn't seem to detect any. He quickly turned back to the man, brushing him off. “She’s a little spooked, she’ll be alright.”

He gave a slight shrug and waved the both of you off. Sodapop immediately placed a hand on your shoulder and shook your upper half. “Gave me some cash to fix the damage…it ain’t too bad, the back is a little dented and some paint got scratched off - but that’s about it,” he explained in an attempt to snap you back to reality.

Your eyes scanned the road, still busy with vehicles buzzing around everywhere you look. Listening was easy, but trying to comprehend his words while your mind raced with panic was a difficult task.

“You sure look out of it,” he commented, moving the gearshift to head home. There was an underlying tone of concern you could easily hear in his voice.

Squirming around in your seat, you found a better position where you could see the road ahead, clear as day. Feeling paranoid was an understatement. “No, no, I’m fine,” you assured him, all the confidence you could muster coming into play. You couldn’t stand the thought of worrying him even further with your newfound state of shock.

The car turned at an intersection, a red Corvette coming at you from the left side. It was as if your body just knew what to do - curling up into a ball as your eyes closed shut. The car isn’t going to hit you. This is how normal cars drive. You weren’t hurt. Stop.

“Why are you all jumpy with me? You ain’t in any danger,” Sodapop piped up, noticing your flinch at the sight of the Corvette. “Calm down a bit, will ya?” he teased light-heartedly, unaware of the true conflict inside your mind.

“Sorry…” you mumbled in response, pushing down any remaining feelings of apprehension. “That car, Soda -…” the crack in your voice said it all, “Just scared me a bit, I guess I just don't want you to… to end up like Mom and Dad.”

The car became eerily silent, the only noise being the zooming of cars outside. The accident was a touchy subject for both of you - Darrel and Ponyboy as well. Just talking about it always darkened the mood.

“No. You’re safe, I ain’t ever gonna let anything like that happen to you,” he assured you, his voice thick with tension. He seemed to grasp onto the wheel tighter as he pulled over just outside your home. “You hear me? It ain’t happening.”

For once, he was stern. Sodapop was never stern nor agitated with you, he was always bubbly and grinning. You knew the mention of your deceased mother and father had triggered it. The accident may have been months ago, but the damage was nowhere near repaired.

“I hear you,” you mumbled shamefully, opening the car door and shutting it behind you swiftly. You stood with your hand rubbing onto your arm. The body language represented was one of dread and concern, but somehow relief. Relief that Sodapop was still standing before you - even if he was completing a mundane task.

Sodapop shut the car door as he hauled the bag of wet bathing suits through the gate and towards the front door. You followed, not once letting him out of your sight. You watched as he set the bag near the bathroom door. “Darry and Pony ain’t home yet, better shower before they come back,” he suggested, offering you first dibs with the shower.

You shook your head and stood underneath his arm, seeking some bit of comfort. “No, uh - I’ll do it later,” the words nervously fell from your tongue.

Sodapop ruffled his fingers through your hair, grinning like always. At least something felt normal. “Alright then, shower after me.”

With that, Sodapop waltzed inside the tiled room, unraveling an off-white and awfully tattered towel. Tossing it on the counter, he placed his hand on the doorknob and pushed it closed. You respected the privacy of course, but the pang of paranoia kicked in once more.

“Soda…?” you called out, the sound only a hoarse whisper. No reply.

It was strangely quiet on the other end of the door. No water could be heard running, no background noise of shifting clothes around, nothing. Your hand balled into a fist, the sound of three knocks beckoning him. “Soda, you okay?”

“Yeah…?” Sodapop responded with a confused tone, leaving the boy in deep confusion. “Are you?” he stifled a laugh at the question. He’d been gone a mere few seconds!

“I’m fine,” your voice quivered, exhaling deeply as you slid down the wall. You rested your arms around your knees and sat on the brown wooden flooring. You could practically feel the sadness washing over you. The corners of your lips seemed to subtly droop, your expression now a worried frown. A warm tear escaped from your left eye, leaving you to wonder why you were crying in the first place.

That car could’ve killed you. It could’ve killed Sodapop too - oh god, anyone but him. You couldn’t lose him. First your parents and now your brother - ?”

Wiping the stray tear away, you stood back to your feet and leaned your ear against the door, trying to make out any heavy breathing. The panic set in once more when the running water was the only sound coming from the other end of the door. “Soda, are you alright?”

The knob had been twisted, causing less water to flow from the shower head. “I’m okay - now what in the hell is up with you?” Sodapop demanded as his words echoed through your mind.

Sodapop beginning to feel a bit pestered by you didn’t seem to be an issue, you were at least grateful to have a response. “Nothing…sorry,” you spoke up, giving it a rest for the time being.

The eerie silence only led to the intrusive thoughts of Sodapop no longer being alive. This was torture at its finest. The shower seemed to drag on longer than you would’ve liked.

—————————————————————————

As the day came to a quiet evening, Sodapop had already climbed into bed for the night. Darrel could be found in the kitchen with Ponyboy baking a chocolate cake for tomorrow’s usual breakfast. Clutching your pillow and stuffed bear you’d had since childhood by your side, you crept inside his darkened room. He was lying on his front side, face buried in his pillow. A smile adorned your face once you saw him sleeping peacefully underneath the warm bedding. You tip-toed for Ponyboy’s spot in bed and lifted the corner of the sheets to slide in underneath them. Sodapop stirred and scooted further back toward his side of the bed. His eyes could make out your figure, halfway crawled into bed. “What’re you doin’?”

You were quick to reply, fully laying on your back now that he was awake. “I just wanted to sleep in here tonight…” you shrugged, the stuffed teddy a source of comfort against your chest.

Normally Sodapop would’ve urged it's best for you to not upset Ponyboy by taking his spot in bed. He felt tremendously guilty for earlier’s mention of the accident, it only made him want to ease your concern for his wellbeing. Sodapop could sense the constant fear nagging at you that if he wasn’t with you, he was gone as well. He wasn’t stupid - he was well aware. “Scoot over so there’s room for three,” he sighed softly before pulling your arm closer.

You could feel his lips curled into a loving grin against your hair. It was getting late, so it was a given that Ponyboy would walk in any moment now and settle down for the night. Your back against Sodapop’s chest provided a warm feeling inside. His arm was almost trapping you beside him from how tightly the embrace was. Feeling his heartbeat thumping against your back eased any nervousness that still lingered in your mind.

Sure enough, the hallway lights could be heard flicking off with a quick hit to the switch. A faint ‘goodnight’ was barely audible through the closed wooden door. Ponyboy twisted the knob and saw an unfamiliar shadow beside Sodapop in bed. He groaned once the realization swept over his head that it was you. “Alright, outta my bed,” he commanded with a rather sassy eye roll.

The sheets were flung off of your body as Ponyboy expectantly waited for you to leave. Sodapop squeezed you tighter against himself. “Pony, let her stay.”

Ponyboy scoffed and furrowed his brows in frustration. “Stay - ?! This is our bed, she has her own!”

Sodapop stifled a groan of his own, his hand extending to toss the bedding back over your body. “You’ve got room, either sleep with us or take her bed. It’s just for tonight...”

Ponyboy took one last glance at the two of you before plopping himself down in a huff. “You don’t even need to be here, it ain’t your bed,” he grumbled as he fiddled with the blanket that had been kicked to his side.

You felt guilty enough as is, but now the guilt had grown stronger. You exhaled softly and let your eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry,” is all you could manage to say in response before it turned to a whole meltdown on why you needed to stay close to Sodapop.

Ponyboy’s anger subsided to a calm and aloof demeanor. He was most likely too tired to even argue it anymore.

“I just can’t go back to my room…not when Soda’s all the way in here,” you explained, your voice kept at a quiet whisper. No response from either of them. That sickening feeling of loss had begun to eat you alive yet again now that you lay awake, speaking to your unresponsive brothers.

———————————————————————————

Morning came once again, except this time you weren’t woken up to the bird’s singing outside, or one of your brothers pouncing over your resting body. It was as if your mind already knew that Sodapop had left. Ponyboy too, it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning when the lonely feeling sank back in. You sighed and propped yourself up onto the pillows, using your forearms for support.

A muffled sound escaped your lips, immediately calling for Sodapop. Obviously, he couldn’t hear you behind a closed door. You sprung out of bed, the stuffed bear falling to the floor along with you. With a swift twist of the doorknob, you sprinted down the hallway to catch sight of Ponyboy in the kitchen.

“Soda - Soda - where’s Soda?” you asked frantically, no sign of your two eldest brothers being around.

Ponyboy bit into a mouthful of chocolate cake, not caring to finish chewing before speaking, “Leavin’ for work, why?”

You shook your head without another word and scrambled for the front door, pajamas and all. You saw Sodapop buckling in beside Darrel as he slipped on a shirt. You sprinted towards the car, shouting and pleading for them to wait.

“Soda, Darry!” you called out, your hand smacking the side of the car to stop the vehicle. Darrel looked beyond frustrated to see you causing such a scene. Sodapop was filled with great concern, even as the adrenaline rushing throughout your body masked your fear. He gave a head tilt to signal Darrel to let him handle this.

“I’m here,” he replied in an assertive tone, his empathic eyes feeling every emotion you’ve felt since yesterday’s accident. He understood you better than anyone. Reaching a hand out to pull you closer, his gentle grasp latched onto your wrist. He leaned closer to you and spoke lowly, “You alright, kid? You’re scarin’ us, y’know.”

You nodded. In all honesty, you were okay now that you’d seen Sodapop. It felt like every second spent away from him was hell on earth. He could be hurt, laying out in the street somewhere - dead.

“I’m coming with you,” you insisted, tugging on the backseat door behind Sodapop. It didn’t open. Instead, Darrel’s husky voice backed you away from the handle.

“Coming with us -? No kids allowed, be realistic for once.” Darrel gave you a stern warning that if you didn’t head back indoors then you would never hear the end of it.

Sodapop exhaled sharply and glanced between you both, trying to handle the situation. He locked eyes on you, giving you the same empathic look as before. “Just…” he gave Darrel a wince before facing you again, “You got five minutes to get ready and then we're leaving.”

Your smile reappeared yet again, immediately racing back up the stairs leading to the front door. The sound of your brothers’ voices grew louder even as the distance between you and the car grew. A glimpse of the two arguing caused a bitter pang in your heart. Pushing the feeling away, you darted for the bathroom.

———————————————————————————

“She can stay with me. The DX ain’t in a bad area, she’ll be fine…” Sodapop spoke softly to Darrel, trying to reason as to why you should come along to work with them.

You settled yourself in the vehicle as it began to propel forward. The tension of the previous argument still lingered, but at least Darrel kept quiet as soon as you were in a close enough radius to hear the bickering. He wouldn’t be caught dead speaking of you like that while you were listening.

———————————————————————————

Taking Sodapop’s hand, he led you inside of the gas station in which he worked. You’d been here countless times before, bumming around with your brother’s friends as they smoked and attempted to sweet-talk any girl that passed. Sodapop and Steve never did, they would be fired after receiving complaints for doing such activities. Sodapop would always bend the rules, slipping a few snacks and whatnot into his pocket before leaving work. The DX brought back fond memories even as you stepped inside the front door, a small bell ringing overhead, indicating your entry.

“Now, I ain’t supposed to have company,” Sodapop spoke quietly, holding onto your shoulder and bending down a bit to be eye level with you, “But I couldn’t say no, I just couldn’t.”

Your eyes stung from the tears that dared to form during such a heartfelt moment. Sodapop was aware?

“Soda, I can’t lose you too,” your voice quivered as you quickly closed the distance between one another. Your arms wrapped around his neck, Sodapop immediately reciprocated the hug.

“I know, I know…” he replied as he softly stroked the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your hair in a soothing motion. “You ain’t losin’ me anytime soon, I can promise you that.”

You willingly let the tears fall from your cheeks, landing on Sodapop’s shoulder which dampened the fabric quite a lot. He didn’t mind at all, in fact - he was glad you were no longer bottling yourself up. You squeezed him tighter, wishing the hug could ensure you’d never lose him. “I love you,” you spat out in a desperate cry.

Sodapop nodded along, the soothing motion of his hand still in effect. “I love you too y’know, a lot,” he said with a delicate tone, one he only used with you. You were his little sister and he would never let anything separate the two of you.

You just don’t stop living because you lose somebody.

It was as if the hug was the one thing you needed - the one thing that could ease your pain. Learning to cope with the death of your parents was by far the most difficult task you’d faced. Memories of the accident only strengthened your love for your brothers, clinging onto them as if you’d lose them next. Living in constant fear, dreading any separation was no healthy way to cope. The only way to cure the feeling of this overwhelming pain was to cherish your brothers like never before. And that’s exactly what you did.

[renren-006]

Deans Playlist | Dean Winchester x fem reader

plot: exactly as it says. songs dean likes and the times you heard them with him.

a/n: sooooo i wanted to write something for dean and it hit me with the idea when Night Moves played on the radio the other day so here it is lovelies!

taglist: @rosecentury

Night Moves - Bob Seger

The first time you heard this song was on one of your first road trips with Dean. The two of you had just started hunting together. you both met when you were younger, our fathers being hunter friends, those in the business know everyone. After Sam left and Dean's father John was around less and less he figured he could use a hand, although he never admits he wanted company and truly hated the silence of working alone. He knew you were hunting and there was something in your area, that's how the whole working together started. 

Now you sat in the Impala months later, window rolled down as the night air swooped into the car. Segers's voice flowed out of the radio, and Dean turned up the music. You looked back over towards him smiling slightly. 

“What's this song?” you asked him, he gave a look of shock before his face morphed into that grand smile. 

“Night Moves,” he told you, smile still present. “Dad used to play it at night for Sammy”

“You miss them?” you asked. His smile falters a little bit. Asking Dean sensitive questions sometimes made the rest of whatever car ride you were on longer than it was. This time Dean just sat there driving for a bit, letting the song play out.

“I do,” he told you at last, as the last lines of the song played out from the car's radio. You nodded your head before turning back to watch the countryside fly by. The song finished playing and the radio was turned back down so all that was heard was the rumbling of the car and a slight noise from the radio. 

 

Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greensbaum

You knew this song, remember your dad enjoyed listening to it. While the song had a religious undertone, you liked the vibe of the song. Your father had never been a huge religious man but he always thought even though he was a hunter he would end up in “god's great palace”, as he would say.

“You think there is a heaven?” you asked Dean who was sitting across from you. He looked up from the research he was doing. 

“What brought on this question?” he asked you back.

“The song. Dad liked it, figured you must like it too” you told him. He nodded his head smiling a bit. 

“Greenbaum a good artist” he responded, “i never thought about heaven”

“Never?” you were a bit shocked. 

“I know what's on this earth, after that i'm not too concerned with heaven or hell”

“Ah, that makes sense,” you responded. You sat back in the booth letting your head fall back and listening to the song end. Dean continued rustling through the local newspaper, glancing at you ever so often. He loved watching you think, didn't matter what it was he liked watching. He knew this topic must have been something you thought about often.

“You think there's a heaven?”

“Hm, not sure. I mean Dad thought so but after all I've seen I'm not sure” you told him still resting your head back. Once the song was over you lifted your head back up to see Dean watching you. “If there is one, I'll find you don't worry”

“I wasn't worried,” Dean said fast. He looked back at the pages in front of him. A part of Dean knew that if he was gone and there was only science he would lose his mind. Another part of him hoped you would be there with him so he wouldn't have to be alone again. 

“Sure you weren't Dean”

Heat of the Moment - Asia

This was one of Dean's favorites, and you knew that because he would never ever keep the radio silent when it played. It was one of those awful sunny mornings and you were still miraculously asleep in the backseat when Dean started blasting this song. You didn't remember if you woke up with a start because of the song or the nightmare you were having, either way, you woke up to an absolutely stunning smile from Dean. 

“Morning baby” he said to you before turning back to the road drumming his hands on the wheel as he did. 

“I hate when you do this” Your voice was groggy when you spoke. Dean only laughed from the driver's seat. “Tell me you at least have coffee” As requested, Dean's hand went to the center console where there was a cup of coffee waiting for you. Gas station coffee was always horrible but it did the job, Dean knew you well enough to remember to grab you a cup on his fast trip inside before he rolled out early this morning. 

Simple Man - Lynyrd Skynyrd

The radio was playing while you sat in the car, dean fixing something about the car elsewhere. It was another lazy day at Bobbies, taking things easy after a recent hunt Dean and yourself did. You had a book out while he did his thing. Dean rolled out from under the car looking your way, he smiled at the sight of you reading. 

“What book is it this time?” Dean asked. 

“It's one of Bobbies wifes old books” you told him, “it's a romance”

“I should have guessed,” he said laughing slightly. He came over putting his arms on the hood and leaning toward you inside the car. You scooted forward. 

“How's the car looking?” you asked. 

“Babys all good to go,” he told you. He led down further kissing you. “How's my girl doing?”

“She's good, sad that the car gets more attention sometimes,” you told him. He laughed, pulling his arms into the car and on either side of you. You smiled at him, putting your book down.

“I see. Well darling, how shall I show you attention today?” den asked, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“I can think of a few things”

Carry On my Wayward Son - Kansas

You smiled when the song turned on. You glanced back at the younger Winchester brother riding in the back. Sam gave you a smile. Your attention retired to Dean's face, the man driving the car. After this last hunt, you thought that would be it for you. Dean had been gripping the wheel since you got in and drove away. You rested your hand on his arm, and you could see the muscles in his arm relax.

“Don't you cry no more” you said to him, letting the lyrics sink in for him. Dean smiled at you.

“Always sappy,” he told you. 

“Always. I'm not sappy though, you just don't do emotions very well” You responded, hitting him with a little snarky response. Your hand had left his arm at this point, the tension was back. 

“Nah I do emotions just fine” Dean defended, Sam snickers from the back seat. 

“Want to talk about how you thought I was dead then?” You asked him. You were a bit forward with the question, knowing that not two hours ago you almost got killed by a werewolf. You were still in a haze about the whole experience but you knew Dean handled it worse than you. 

“Never,” He said, the steering creaking from his grip. Again you put your hand on his soldier, helping lighten the grip. 

“Case and point” you whispered to him. There was no reaction from him, he was still upset you brought up your near-death experience. Sam cleared his thoughts uncomfortably. “Sorry Sammy”

“Don't be. You only said the truth Y/N” Sam responded nodding at you with silent understanding. Sam knew his brother as well as you did. Dean still looked as if he wanted to fight the world. This will be talked about again tomorrow. You heard the last of the song die out before the car ride got quiet again. 

+ One song you like

Lost Angel - Heart

Dean plugged the tape into the cassette spot in his car. The sound of Heart played beautifully out of the Impala. You looked over at him, smiling. 

“I love this song” you told him happily. The last few days had been hard, not only for the fact that the two of you had finally done something about the budding tension between the two of you, but also the hunt was rough. The two of you not only had just started the relationship you both knew was inevitable, but had been so worried about the other dying right after that you became narrow minded. Dean almost got himself killed because he was hyper focused on your safety. There were conversations had after that hunt about everything. 

“I know you do darling, the only reason I played it” He said to you. Smiling that cheeky smile around you. This man was going to be the end for you. 

“That's sweet Dean,” you told him sliding over in the car and kissing him on the cheek. The song continued to play, and you hummed along and silently sang the words. Dean was enjoying every minute of your happy fueled mood that the past day's event left his mind.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

If we turn left enough times, we'll have gone in a circle.... and end up right back where we started.

@boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau @littlemissartemisia @thevoidbrothers @noval1t (I hope they don't mind I added their characters into the story for special guest appearance 👉👈)

CW: fight scenes, blood/ichor, panic attacks, slight body horror, hallucinations, abuse, experimentation, surgery, torture... cardiac arrest and character death

(It's a really long one. I am so sorry in advance lol)

Also, just for clarification: UIFY = Until I Found You NFIF = No Fun in Fungus DvD = Donatello Von Draxum 'Phael = Raphael Jurogumo

Prev || Next || Illustration

Misa waddled along the corridors of the arena as she retraced her steps. She couldn't recall exactly where she'd left the portal sword, but she knew it was in the area... Her families were counting on her. Her older little brothers and sister April needed her help! And she was so excited to help them and prove Lee-Lee wrong about her being "just a little kid". She wasn't little! She was 4 years old! That was so grown up and big, she could do all sorts of things by herself... If she could only find her sword. She'd show him just how big she was!

Out of the blue, a familiar floating sensation took her and she watched with surprise as she was lifted up high into the rafters. Misa squealed with delight.

"Up, up!"

Waves smiled at her, returning her laughter with chirps and giggles of his own.

"Are you going to keep playing with your food, or what?"

Misa watched as a splash of pitch created another figure -- a version of Donatello but entirely grayscale -- formed in the rafters next to them.

Waves turned to look at his brother with a great big smile on his face, his eyes empty and black as he stared at Signal. He hissed a warning. Misa is off-limits.

"Fine. Just didn't see the point in wasting such a sweet little snack."

Waves hissed at him again before nuzzling his face into Misa's. She giggled with glee. These brothers didn't scare her. Waves might seem spooky, but deep down he was a silly little sweetheart and she adored him. Especially when he would pick her up and fly around with her.

"What exactly is the little Artemisia doing way out here all by herself?" Signal asked, leaning in close to her tiny face.

"Getting sword for my family!" she explained.

"Ah, weaponizing children now, are we? I think Static was handing out medieval swords and maces earlier..."

"Did somebody say 'best void brother'?" came a glitchy voice as another void brother appeared.

"It's like he's Beetlejuice or something..." Signal growled.

"I just thought the little lady might like this," Static stated smugly as he handed Misa her retrieved portal sword. He'd found it for her!

Misa cheered happily as she brandished the weapon, the blade glinting in the light and reflecting her image like a mirror.

"What's going on up here?" a fourth and final voice boomed. Radio slowly emerged from the shadows of the rafter corners. "Static, you're not giving minors weapons again, are you?"

"How did you even get up here?" Signal asked incredulously. "You're practically the size of a dump truck, how can you even fit in these rafters?"

"Call me that again and I'll flatten you like a dump truck."

"Just worried for the structural integrity of the building, is all..." Signal sassed back.

Radio rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the others, specifically Static, who still owed Radio an answer.

"I wasn't handing out weapons, I was retrieving it. It already belonged to her!"

Radio's eyes shifted from Static to Misa, who nodded her head as Waves shook his (he wanted to get Static in trouble as a joke).

"Why would a little thing like you need a sword?" he asked cautiously.

"Family needs help! Misa gets her sword for them!" she explained. "Bad spores!"

"Your family? You mean that band of misfits and the anxiety-riddled shroomie teens?"

Waves nodded for her. Misa didn't really understand what shroomie meant. Radio scratched his chin as he considered the situation. He knew that there was an outbreak of fear spores going on, and the two AU teams had been working to find and destroy them. It wasn't looking good thus far. Even Signal had gotten spored, and though he wouldn't admit it... they knew it wasn't a pleasant experience for him. Radio couldn't say he was an expert on mushrooms, but he knew a thing or two about invasive beings and decay. And if that fungus was as bad as everyone was making it out to be, then it could mean disaster for every AU in this place.

"...I don't suppose we could be of any help?"

Donatello howled with maniacal laughter.

His prisoners watched with fear as he ordered the vines to wrap around Michelangelo like ropes, tying his arms to his sides and keeping a very strong grip around his throat just in case anyone got any funny ideas. DvD was screaming bloody murder and promising every kind of painful demise if Audrey III didn't release his baby brother immediately. But he could see the tears in his eyes, he could hear the panic and utter fear.

Oh god, the fear was delicious. He wanted more...

Raphael struggled against the odd vines that had sprouted from Donnie's shell, as he brought him closer towards the room where Leo and the others were. The vines were an amalgamation creation -- partially machine, partially Dee's ninpo, and partially... Raph could only assume it was the mushroom. Had it been growing inside of his shell?? He desperately tried to free himself from the terrible growth. He managed to get one arm out --

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, what are we trying here?" the plant asked through Donnie, smirking down at Raph and commanding several other vines to take ahold of his arms and pull, stretching him out in every direction as he yelled in pained protests. "You didn't really think you could get out that easy, did you?"

Raph grunted and growled as he fought against the vines.

"Donnie!! SNAP OUTTA IT! I know you like to play the mad scientist sometimes, but this is TAKING IT TOO FAR!!"

"I'll tell him you said that," Audrey III smirked. "He's on sabbatical right now, but I'm sure the message can get through... eventually."

Raph screamed in anger as hot tears streaked down his face.

"But in the meantime, I think I'd like to taste your fear again..."

The door behind them opened, and out came a stream of blue fog, followed by the Hand.PNG, which crawled up the vines and onto Donnie's shoulder like a spider.

"Let's invite our dear friends to dinner, shall we?"

The vines began to drag Micheal and Raph into the room.

DvD began to screech like a monster, the muscles in his arms tensing and flexing against the vines and finally breaking their hold. He ran towards the wall, screaming in fury as he spun the tech-bō and leapt. They would not take his brother.

A spark of light ignited in his eyes.

It spread across his body.

The light burst like flame at the end of his staff.

All eyes watched him in shock as he shouted a war cry and slammed the tech-bō into the wall Dee had created earlier.

It shattered completely.

A shockwave burst from the impact and threw everyone back, dissolving the vines that held everyone.

Mikey's limp body fell.

DvD rushed to catch him. He almost made it when Donnie/Audrey III stepped in front of him and kicked him back with one of his mechanical arms. The battle-shell-clad ninja crawled up the side of the wall and grabbed the child before he could hit the ground. Mikey's head bobbed, and he groaned in discomfort at having been thrown around like a rag doll.

"You duplicitous little --! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Audrey III spat angrily.

In all honesty, DvD had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it. All he knew was that he needed to protect Mikey at all costs. And then the wall broke. In his shocked stupor, he failed to get up in time and suddenly found a new vine wrapping around his neck like a boa constrictor and tightening like a noose.

Mikey's eyelids fluttered.

Donnie/Audrey III brought the alt. version of himself close to his face.

"YOU HAVE NO MAGIC, YOU YOURSELF TOLD HIM THAT! YOU LYING LITTLE --" Donnie's eyes peered into DvD's as he choked. "...Perhaps you are more interesting than you let on. Shall we see what else is in your silly little head, my dear anarchist?"

Donnie gasped for air, kicking and clawing at his captor as he tried to free himself. He... he was blacking out...

Mikey's eyes burst open.

He screamed as loudly as he could, his entire body erupting into gold and amber light, blinding the entire corridor.

A shrieking sound came from the dark room. The door slammed shut.

Donatello turned around in shock, as a torrent of chains burst from the boy, two for each vine he'd created.

Oh. Now we play.

He'd seen this from the boy before; he'd been rooting around in his mind and saw the memories from the last time. He knew the child was afraid of these powers, he couldn't control them very well. Especially the really strong spells like this. He knew how this scene played out. He just had to either wait him out to spend himself dry -- or let him do what the previous poor, sweet Michelangelo had done, and turn himself into a monster. Either would work...

Mikey held his hand out. A series of chains came and sliced the vine choking out his brother. DvD fell to the floor, quickly caught by the chains -- which also grabbed NFIF Raphael -- and carried them away to the others who watched in utter shock as the child landed on the ground and summoned his mystic nunchucks.

"Well, well, well... look who finally woke up."

Mikey's eyes were wide and glowed burning gold. He said nothing, his face empty, devoid of expression. Mikey was not at home anymore, he was controlled by his ninpo. He simply tilted his head in response to Audrey III's eggings.

"I wonder... you tried to save Donatello from my clutches earlier. Did you know then that your efforts would be in vain? Did you know that in your absence, you'd leave your brothers and sisters to face me alone?"

The two circled around one another, preparing to duel it out.

"I sensed your connection; you'd discovered the truth, hadn't you? You'd discovered this pathetic boy's treachery, how he'd joined my cause."

Mikey's face never faltered. His knuckles tightened around as his weapon.

"I suppose 'joined' was the wrong word to use. He really was weak and pathetic, you know. It was almost too easy to leech my way into his mind. I highly doubt his consciousness could have survived from my invasion. I do hope you said your goodbyes."

Michelangelo charged.

Donnie/Audrey III swirled the staff in front of himself, deflecting the impacts of the little child as he battled the fungus infected version of his brother.

Mikey's movements were graceful, practically a performance as he flowed back and forth, throwing his chains at the purple ninja turtle, whose movements in contrast were fierce and sharp and violent and purely angry.

"Did... did you know he could do that?" 'Phael asked shakily, turning to look at Leo.

Leo simply stared in silence, mouth agape with awe and shock of his baby brother.

"Leo, did you know he could do this??"

"I... I-I mean... sort of... I knew he could do magic... but not like this..."

Michelangelo danced around Donatello, waving his arms and creating ribbons of golden light as he filled the room with light.

Wait a minute, light...

"The light... the light!" NFIF Raphael shouted suddenly. "The light! It's how we defeated the spores the first time, using mystic light! It disintegrates them!"

"How poetic, the light drives away the fear," DvD muttered, still rubbing his neck from the constraining grip of the vines.

"If we can get the door open, we can flood the room with his light and free them all!"

"Okay, solid plan, great effort from everybody, just one slight hitch -- HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET AROUND THE MYSTIC BATTLE WHERE OUR BROTHERS ARE TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER?!" Leo yelled.

"Raph's still comin' up with the plan!! Cut me some slack!"

"I can try to poof you guys to the door," April offered. "It won't be completely accurate, but I can get you close."

"That'll have to do," Raph nodded. "And whatever you do, avoid the hand and the spores!"

April grabbed hold of NFIF Raphael, squeezed her eyes shut, and then - poof! - landed the two right in the middle of the fight.

"AAGH! Sorry, sorry!" she screamed, ducking under Mikey's advance against Donnie, as Raph created an enormous ninpo arm and shielded the two of them from Dee's barrage of ninpo torpedoes.

"Get to the door!" Raph screamed, taking her by the hand and pulling her away as he created two more clones to help in the fight.

Mikey danced and ducked under the glowing purple missiles shot at him. He gripped his nunchuck tightly, whipped it towards one of the Raph clones. It wrapped around his arm, igniting in flames, then swung over Mikey's head like a lasso. He flung the fiery clone at Donnie, who just barely managed to dodge the flaming brother, which created a crater in the ground before him. The second clone came and tried to keep him from firing anymore missiles at UIFY Mikey.

"I'm surprised at you," Donnie huffed, trying to keep up with the two attackers. "Why would you want to fight against me? We're brothers!"

"We don't want to fight you," one clone growled. "But you're not in your right mind, so we'll have to do what we can."

"I'm sure you will," Donnie snarled, changing his bō staff into a spear and skewered the clone straight through. It disintegrated into red blocks and pixels. He turned to the second clone, creating the oh-so-famed drill, and firing at the poor duplicate.

Meanwhile, Raphael and April had made it to the door, April gripping the handle as she waited for Raphael's orders.

"Get ready," she panted, out of breath from dodging both sides of the attack. "Once this door opens, a flood of blue is gonna come out."

"I'll get you out, don't worry," Raph said with a nod.

"It's not me I'm worried about. Donnie said the Hamatos are full of senseless martyrs."

"He's... not wrong. But I promise that I won't sacrifice myself."

April nodded, hoping that he would keep that promise.

"Okay, then."

April threw the door open. As soon as she did, a torrent of blue smoke fumed out, engulfing both April and Raphael. April kept her eyes closed, waiting for the nightmares to start. But they never did. She opened her eyes and saw the world from inside a red glowing giant. Raph held onto her, arms spread around her in a safety hold, his hologram form shielding them from the spores.

Donnie/Audrey III felt a pain in the back of his mind. They turned and saw that the spores were leaking out of the room. Okay, now they were getting irritated.

"Why, you little...!"

In this moment of distraction, Michelangelo's chains wrapped around the softshell's waist and pulled him in. Mikey reached out and grabbed him by his neck, holding him just mere inches away from his expressionless face, eyes still burning like melted gold, no irises nor pupils. Donnie's wide, icy blue-tinted eyes contrasted them sickeningly. Donnie smiled.

"Go ahead," he said, voice smooth and calm. "Kill me."

Mikey blinked at him, but that was all. Audrey III continued.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? This ridiculous show of power, the fight? You were planning on finishing the job, weren't you?"

Mikey's fingers squeezed softly. A threat.

"What, are you afraid? Why? Shouldn't it be easy? Are you even in control of yourself? Why would you be afraid to squeeze the life out of someone who looks just like your brother, could actually be your brother?"

Mikey's hand let go, his arms shaking. A soft golden glow started to seep through the bandages.

"Ah, and it looks like you may be out of time."

Michelangelo looked down. Golden ichor dripped off of his fingertips. He pulled the bandages off, revealing the scars on his arms, which were glowing white hot, tiny cracks forming from their edges and shimmering, glittery ichor was bleeding from the reopened wounds. The price to pay for his powers.

Some Mikeys cracked.

He didn't.

Not again... n-not again...

Donatello/Audrey III dusted himself off as he watched Michelangelo slowly come to. With his ninpo overdrive giving way, his mind leisurely crept back into place; the golden glazed over his eyes melting as his irises came into focus and his pupils dilated. The ichor dripping down his forearms began turning a deep red, the glowing scars on his arms becoming irritated open wounds.

No, no! Mikey couldn't give up just yet, not when his family still needed him! But... he knew he'd used up almost all his precious energy... he... h-he... Mikey's breathing slowed, raggedy respiration as his hands shook and his knees wobbled beneath him. The room started to spin as black spots entered his vision. He managed to catch a glimpse of Donatello, swinging his staff with great force and slamming it into Mikey's chest with a hideous cracking sound.

Mikey was flung back several feet, dizzy and dazed and all the air knocked out of him. He vaguely registered multiple voices calling his name...

April screamed, NFIF Raphael screaming with her. April's teleportation powers activated without her realizing it, and she suddenly found herself by MIkey's side. Weak as he was, he had curled up into himself, clutching his stomach in pain and trying to catch his breath as he writhed on the floor. His brothers were also by her side in an instant, each one fretting over his injuries.

April looked up to see Donnie/Audrey III standing over them, the hand perched on his shoulder like a vulture.

Dee held out the severed arm, and gave it to the creature.

"Be whole again, dear disciple," he said with a smile, as the hand reattached itself to the limb, a flash of light combining the two together once again.

"That's gross," Leo grimaced. "Hey, DvD, you're a science experiment, can you do that?"

"No, but I can."

All eyes looked behind Donatello/Audrey III.

A black substance expanded and took form -- an adult version of Donatello, devoid of any colour whatsoever.

April cheered, whooping at his arrival. 'Phael screamed at a pitch that only dogs could hear. He was still convinced that these "Void Brothers" were the ones who'd sent him the ominous sticky note near the beginning of this entire adventure in the competition.

"So," Donnie/Audrey III said with a growl. "It looks like we have some more players in the game."

"Think you can keep up?" Signal asked, his form morphing into one of pure black, multiple arms expanding from his abdomen and several extra sets of teeth growing in his ever-widening mouth.

"The more the merrier," Donatello/Audrey III chuckled, letting the Hand.PNG crawl into his palm. "You know what to do," he whispered to it.

The hand instantly vanished, reappearing by the doorway behind Raphael, and scurrying into the room. A second later, blue chains shot out, slicing through Raphael's hologram.

"That's not good," he mumbled, forcing the hand to reach into the gargantuan stomach, pull him out, and fling him towards the others before the spores could seep through all the way.

Two figures emerged from the doorway, their movements somewhat sluggish. There were tiny mushrooms protruding from their skin. Their eyes glowed a neon blue, and their ninpo matched the shade.

Karai and Mikey.

"No..." Leo whispered, staring in horror. "Karai... what happened to her...?"

"Oh, Mikey," Raph whimpered. "Oh no, big man..."

"He's not gonna make us fight them, is he?" April asked nervously.

The two warriors charged.

"Yep. He is. He most definitely is. Shoulda seen this one coming, honestly. That's on me."

"Get outta here," Raphael ordered. "Me and... uh, these guys -" he said, gesturing to the four colourless adults that had already started combating against the swayed relatives, "- will keep them from following you."

"I thought you said you weren't gonna sacrifice yourself!" April yelled angrily.

"I know, and Raph is gonna keep his promise. But your little brother is hurt, he needs help now! I'm not gonna just hand myself over, I'm your cover. Now get going!"

April wanted to argue about it more, but before she could, she was taken by the wrist and pulled away. Waves was tugging her -- as well as the others -- off to a small clearing.

"Where do we go?!" 'Phael yelled, concerned that they had no real escape plan...

"Misa helps!" came a familiar voice. A sword slashed through the open air, and a bright portal opened in front of them...

...Donatello/Audrey III commanded a cloud of spores, hurtling them towards Radio.

"What are you, some kinda Avatar: the Last Airbender wannabe?" he joked as he dodged the cloud.

"I wonder why you would stand against me. Do we not fight for the same cause? Survival? We feed off of others, we only want to exist on our own terms... can you not see our similarities?"

"Nah, not really," Radio said, slamming his fist into the ground, only missing Donnie by half an inch.

"Such a shame. Then I suppose you must die."

"Happy to return the favour--"

"You can't hurt them!" Raphael shouted as he joined the fray.

"Whaddya mean, we can't? They're trying to hurt us!" Static shouted angrily, popping in and out of random spots, infuriating the heck out of mushroomed Mikey.

"They're not in control of their bodies, they're zombies! We hafta find a way to un-zombify them!"

"Well, no offense, but I don't think they share your mindset of 'no hurting the opponents'," Static sighed. "Besides, you're gonna have a hard time getting Signal to change his mind."

"Well, I'm gonna have to, those are my brothers and un-dead gram-gram from another dimension-- wait, where's Leo?!"

Raph looked around the corridor anxiously for the third zombie. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He must still be in the room. Raph darted among the others, rushing towards the dark room. There was still a huge cloud of blue smoke that surrounded the doorway, Raph couldn't go in without being infected. But he could see inside.

There was Leo, sitting up against the wall -- oh god.

Leo's body was half-engulfed in the biggest, scariest mushroom Raphael had ever seen. It's giant eye zeroed in on Raph. It... it looked too much like... his fingers traced over his own injured eye nervously. Why did it look so similar? Donnie had theorized that the fungus might've been kraang-related, but...

Leo. Focus on Leo.

He was there, being absorbed into the mushroom. He looked so pale and thin, like he was wasting away. Raph had to save him somehow, but --

"Enjoying the view?" Donnie/Audrey III asked, whacking Raph over the head with his staff as hard as he could. Raphael crumbled to the ground, clutching his skull and groaning in pain. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark... and a pretty nasty concussion, too...

While Raph was stunned on the floor, Donnie/Audrey III noticed the portal that had allowed for the Until I Found You group's escape. It was still open.

The hand appeared at Donnie/Audrey III's feet.

"This form has served its purpose," he said flatly. "I have what I need for now... But I require you to follow after them. Bring me back the scientist, I believe that he may be of some use to me. And even if not, he can't be left with them. He's too smart, he'll find some way to weaken me... I cannot leave it to chance. Bring him to me."

The Hand.PNG "nodded" at his master, then jumped away towards the portal.

Raphael struggled to keep his vision straight. He felt something wrap around his chest, tugging him backwards. He saw the Void Brothers driving the two zombified Hamatos back to the room... in Raphael's direction... the room...

Raph's head pounded louder than a drum. The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. He knew April would have his head for giving in so easily... maybe she'd understand given the circumstances. He could barely hold his head up after that last hit... Donnie was a lot stronger than he looked.......

At least... he would be sleeping soon. At least he would be in good company. All the Hamato martyrs, together again. At least he was with Gram-Gram again.

At least he'd be with Leo, soon...

The door closed.

Leon recalled the feeling of portalling.

It was kind of like falling. Accidentally skipping a step down the stairs. An acidic scent that slightly burned the nostrils, a popping in the ears as you go from one altitude to the other in an instant and a half.

Leo hadn't done a lot of portalling, but he'd had his fair share of experiences with the activity. But he still wasn't used to the feeling yet. He stumbled through the bright blue splotch of light and tripped on his way out, finding himself in a brand new corridor. The others followed soon after, clambering out one by one and almost stepping on top of each other.

"Where... where are we?"

"Who cares! We have to go back!" April shouted. "Raph still needs us!"

"What exactly are we supposed to do? Go in, guns blazing? With what guns??" Leo yelled anxiously, waving his arms around to gesture to the obvious lack of firearms.

"P-Prilly's right, w-we haf-hafta... go... back..."

Mikey whined loudly, trying to push himself away from Donnie. The effort hurt his injured arms, which were still bleeding profusely.

"Micheal, hold still--"

"N-no, they need us, Donnie... th-they need us... they need..."

Mikey slipped out of his grip and fell to his knees, shakily trying to get back up.

"Michael, you're in no condition to be going into a battle like that!"

"Mikey all red," Misa whimpered. "Mikey's not s'posed to be so red..."

"No, he's not," Leo growled. "Dude, just sit this one out --"

"No!" Mikey sobbed. "I can't sit back and watch as the people I love and care about get hurt!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK WE WANT YOU TO STAY PUT?!" Leo shouted angrily. "I am NOT having you get hurt like that again! Donnie, take Mikey and go find him some first aid," Leo ordered.

Donnie nodded, picking up the angry box turtle and carrying him into a side hall that lead to one of the many lounge areas. "Raph, April and I will come up with a plan."

"What Misa do?" the littlest turtle mutant asked.

"...You have a very important job to do," Leo announced. "You got those ghosty guys to come and help fight... We're gonna need all the help we can get. Misa, you're the recruiter. Go find as many people as you can and get them to come. Tell them how important it is, okay? This is a big responsibility."

Misa's face lit up.

Lee-Lee trusted her! He knew she was responsible! Misa saluted him with a determined smile and nodded.

"Misa get all the families! Everybody comes!"

"Exactly, Misa. Everybody comes."

"So what, we're just gonna pull an Avengers Endgame on the shrooms? We need more of a strategy than that!" April groaned.

"What the heck is an Avengers Endgame?" Leo asked.

"It's a human reference for a movie. Basically it just means that everybody bands together against the bad guy for an epic finale," 'Phael explained.

"Then why not say that? It makes much more sense than 'Avengers Endgame' -- and how did you know what that meant??"

"I do live with humans, in a human hotel, y'know," 'Phael said, rolling his eyes. "I've seen human movies."

"Okay, well, the majority of our family has not, so maybe--"

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?!" April exclaimed loudly.

"Hand?" Misa asked, eyeing something behind them.

"She means the important stuff," Leo explained.

"Hand!" she yelled.

"Yes, yes, we're trying to get back to the matter at--"

"No, hand!" Misa pointed.

The group turned around to see the blurry trail of a small appendage rushing into the hall after DvD and Mikey.

"I don't just want to sit a-a-and do nothing," Mikey pouted, still shaking in DvD's arms.

"I understand that, you know I do," DvD sighed. "And you also know why I am requiring you to rest. You recall what happened the last time--"

"I know, I know, don't remind me. I was bedridden for days..."

"And yet you wonder why we won't let you go fighting."

Mikey grumbled and turned away from DvD. He was so mad, he could spit venom. He knew they were right, of course they were right. But that didn't make it any easier; in fact it made it worse. Because Mikey knew he was right, too! At least, half-right. He knew that they should go back and help. But he knew he couldn't do much, not with all his energy spent and his arms in the state they were now. They stung like mad, he could barely move them. Donnie had removed what was left of the bandages, doing his best not to gag at the sight and keeping his hands as still as possible, despite his aversion to the blood.

Mikey shouldn't feel guilty for this, right?

It wasn't his fault, right? It was just... how his mystic powers were. He couldn't help the way his body worked, just as much as he couldn't help when his hypoglycemia acted up. It wasn't his fault that he was the way he was... it wasn't a bad thing, right? Being Mikey? Being sensitive to others and sensitive to himself, having some few medical issues and mystic setbacks... that wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, right? Right...?

Mikey turned away so DvD couldn't see him crying. He didn't want him to think he was any more immature or any weaker than he undoubtedly did already. Than they all did. Leo had been taking care of him and his ailments since he was a baby. And Raph was holding on to that one special secret of his... and Donnie had cleaned up the blood and gone to get some more gauze and anti-bacterial supplies for Mikey's wounds. Mikey sighed and wished he wasn't so pathetic. He wished he was stronger, smarter, better. Anyone but himself. The only thing he was good for was his stupid useless mystic powers, and they always did more harm than good, especially self-harm. Mikey hated them. He hated himself--

NO, no, don't think like that! That wasn't kind, that wasn't fair! Mikey didn't actually hate himself at all, he was just mad. He needed to let it go. He needed to sit back and breathe...

Mikey leaned back, exhaled slowly, inhaled deeply.

And he saw it.

Crawling like a cockroach on the wall and up the ceiling.

With something blue in its grip.

"DEE, LOOK OUT!!"

The Hand.PNG shot the spores at Donatello Von Draxum.

Mikey jumped.

He had no time to do anything else.

He had no energy to summon mystic chains or make a spell or do anything clever like that.

He just jumped. Dove, really. Dove straight for his brother, in a desperate attempt to push him out of the way, move him aside, get him to safety!

The spores hit him.

"MIKEY?! MIKEY!!!"

Donnie grabbed his brother, holding him close, ignoring the hand as it disappeared into the shadows to watch the scene play out...

"Mikey, look at me, focus on me, okay? You can get through this, alright!? Just concentrate on my voice..."

Mikey nodded furiously, trying to listen to DvD. But there was a ringing starting, his head felt light and dizzy, the room began to spin and get darker. DvD was fading from vision...

NO! Stay, with me, Donnie, please! Donnie?! DONNIE!!

Donnie started shouting, someone was taking him away! Mikey tried to get up, go after him -- his leg caught on something. His arms, too! He looked down and saw titanium shackles, imprisoning him to a cold metal table.

A light shone in his vision. He squinted at the blinding brightness, wishing he could have a hand free to guard his eyes. Something stood in front of the light, casting a shadow over him.

"Well, well, well... if this isn't a surprise? Back again for more, are we?"

Mikey couldn't breathe.

It... it was him. It was him.

Baron Draxum.

"No... no... no --"

"I think we need to run a few more tests on our little friend here, don't you, Donatello?"

Draxum stepped aside and showed Mikey a view of DvD, chained by the wrists and gagged at the mouth. He was screaming at Mikey, trying to warn him, pleading with him to get out of here!

Mikey screamed back at him, begging wordlessly for Draxum to let him go, please, please!!

Instead, Draxum had one of his vines whip across the room and beat his son across the face. Mikey screamed, sobbing and wailing.

"STOP! NO!"

"He always was such a pathetic disappointment." Draxum turned to the other imprisoned turtle. "Perhaps you will show some promise."

No... n-no, this wasn't how it happened! Donnie w-wasn't -- he was never -- a-and Mikey wasn't awake for any of it, he was asleep for the entire thing! He shouldn't be awake now, he shouldn't be, he shouldn't -- H-he... no, no, no, no no no no nonononononononono!!

Draxum came forward with a needle and scalpel.

"Let's begin."

DvD couldn't stop crying, he just couldn't keep the tears from coming. Mikey was sitting on the floor, screeching his poor little head off, eyes wider than saucers and filled to the brim with fear. He couldn't move much, apart from shaking nonstop. He looked like he was constantly trying to wriggle away from something, but for some odd reason his wrists and ankles were invisibly anchored to the floor. Mikey's limbs twitched as he squirmed and struggled, screaming and begging for whatever he was witnessing to stop, please, please please please stop--

"WHERE IS IT, WHERE THE HECK IS THAT HAND, WHO'S SCREAMING, WHAT'S HAPPENING--?!"

Leon and the others rushed into the room, quickly inspecting the situation and coming upon the obvious conclusion.

"April, take Misa outside..." Leo said after inspecting the scene.

"Misa want to stay with Mikey--!" the little girl protested, but April quickly scooped her up and carried her off.

Leon and 'Phael immediately dropped to Mikey's side, Leo taking the box turtle's hand in his and trying to get him to wake up.

"Dee... fear spores, right?"

"...Yeah..."

"The hand."

"Yes."

"What... what is he seeing?" 'Phael asked nervously, eyes watering at the sight of his baby brother in so much pain.

"I... there's only one thing that could scare him this bad..."

"Draxum?" Leo whimpered.

DvD nodded.

"But... h-he doesn't remember anything from that, you said he was under heavy sedatives for the entire time!"

"He was! Draxum kept him under constant anesthetics -- perhaps his mind is creating an idea of what he thinks happened?"

Raphael started fidgeting with his hands.

"U-um... actually..."

The two boys looked up at him.

"'Phael? What... what is it?"

"...He told me not to tell ya..."

"Tell us what?" Leo questioned.

"H-he made me promise--"

"Raph," DvD said, his voice begging him in ways that words could not. "Please."

"He... he does remember. He does remember what happened in the labs."

Donnie and Leo stared. Mikey continued to sob and scream.

"...What... how... how could he know that... and how do you know that he knows?!" Leo asked, voice raising with each word.

"And why wouldn't he tell us?!" DvD asked in disbelief.

Raph swallowed nervously, a sweat breaking out across the worry lines on his brow.

"He... it started sometime after Karai arrived. H-he thought that m-might do with the mystic training she did with him -- but he started having... nightmares..."

"Nightmares?"

"He said he started dreaming memories about it. It was an out-of-body sorta thing, he said. Like he was watching from the outside... He could never get away from the visions, he said -- but every night, he saw a new one."

"And he... came to you about it? Why not ME?!" Leo yelled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Or Donnie?! Why not tell us?! We're ALL his brothers!!"

"He told me... he said he didn't wanna burden you."

"...Burden?" Donnie whimpered. "...How?"

Raphael looked back and forth between them all. His eyes fell on Leon.

"...He told me he didn't want you to feel... responsible for another thing," Raph mumbled. "He said he felt bad enough about everything he's made you worry over already, he didn't want you to..."

"...He didn't want me to know...? Because... he felt guilty?" Leo wept, tears pooling and spilling from his eyes. "That... I don't... he shouldn't have felt that way, why did he..."

Leo's eyes glossed over, he squeezed them shut, clutching Mikey's tiny fist and pressing it against his chest.

"How could I make him feel like that...?" he wept. "I never meant... I never knew..."

"But... why not tell me? I could have helped," Donnie said in-between uneven breaths. "I already knew what had happened!"

"That's... actually why he didn't come to you, Don," 'Phael explained. "He s-said, he said he didn't want to hurt you. He saw how much you were struggling and wanted to wait until you were... doing better about the whole ordeal. To be honest, I agreed with him on that mark."

"But why did he tell you?" Leo asked. "Why only you, and not us?"

"I s'pose... because he knew that I knew what it was like to be afraid all the time," 'Phael sobbed. "He knew that I wouldn't judge him for his fears. He couldn't sleep at night anymore, he needed someone to stay with him and help him through his fits... But I told him! I told him to tell you both! I told him you should know!" he cried, whimpering nervously as he wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

"Raph! Raph, it's okay..." Leo tried to reassure him. "I mean... it's not completely okay... I wish he'd told me, but... that doesn't matter now."

Leo held Raphael close.

"We just... we need to be here for him now... How much does he know?"

"...Everything."

"...This isn't going to be easy for him," Donnie exhaled.

"Or us," Leon added.

The trio gathered close to Michelangelo, each laying their hands on him, a sign that they were there and they were offering comfort in the only way they could.

Mikey kept screaming, he couldn't stop screaming. No matter what his brothers tried, they couldn't snap him out of whatever horrors he was experiencing. They just kneeled beside him, holding his hands and hoping their support made some leeway.

But Mikey just kept screaming, shrieking, crying, weeping, wailing, sobbing. He howled until his throat ran dry and his voiced cracked and went hoarse. He wept until his eyes were red and irritated and his cheeks were stained with saltwater and starting to chafe and the area around his eyes went puffy and soft. And on he went. For what seemed like hours, days, years, centuries even -- but was probably only 15 minutes. Mikey was stuck in a loop of fits and fear.

And then finally, he slowed. His breathing calmed, his sobs turning to hiccups and suck-ups and hyperventilation, as his eyes darted around, looking for something familiar.

"Is... is it over?" Leo asked, internally begging for it to be so.

Donatello was heaving along with Mikey, his cheeks also stained with tears.

"I... I think--"

"D-Donnie?" Mikey whispered shakily.

"Mikey? I'm right here, I'm --"

"No... no, not Donnie, please, I--"

"Is, is he --?"

"He's not done with the hallucination yet," Donnie realised. "It's about to get so much worse."

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" Mikey screamed, bolting forwards. His legs tangled underneath him, causing him to trip over himself. His arms were strained behind him, his ankles struggling against the ground, as if something was still holding him back.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HIM, WHAT IS HE SEEING DON?!" Leo screamed.

"Me," Donnie whimpered, holding back desperate sobs. "He's seeing what Draxum did to me. On the last day. When we fought...."

Mikey shrieked in agony, his eyes somehow producing twice as many tears as they had before in this one moment, pouring out for his brother's sake.

Mikey's screams were cut short, he gasped in horror. They all could assume what he'd seen. Draxum had killed Donnie in his hallucinations. Mikey went horribly pale. His eyes widened.

"No... no... no, no, no, get away get--!"

Mikey jerked suddenly. His body seized up, his eyes went wide, and then --

He fell backwards.

Back into the hold of his brothers, who caught him almost immediately.

"MIKEY!!"

Mikey didn't hear them, he simply lay in their arms.

Mikey stopped shaking. His limbs had gone slack. His body went limp. His eyes went somewhere far away from them all.

Mikey exhaled.

And he didn't inhale.

"...Mikey...?"

He didn't respond.

"What... what just happened?" Raph asked nervously.

"He didn't... he didn't just..." Leo begged, slowly placing his fingers against his neck. He paused. He tried the wrist next. He couldn't find any pulse.

"He didn't just leave us, did he?"

"...Michael...?"

Leo pounded his fist against the ground.

He wasn't going to give up his baby brother.

Leo placed his hands across Mikey's chest, applied pressure.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come on, Mikey, come on...!"

1, 2, 3 ,4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come ON, Mikey, COME ON! I'm not letting you go!"

DvD was crying, holding himself tight as tears soaked into his shirt and vest.

"Leo, stop... Leo, he... he..."

"Leon, mate, please, he--" 'Phael reached for him, attempting to comfort.

"COME ON!" Leo shouted, refusing to give up.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3--

"WAKE UP!!" he sobbed.

Mikey gasped for air.

His eyes blinked wildly as he bolted upright, limbs flailing about in a mad panic. Three bodies pounced upon him, wrapping themselves around him and sobbing into him. Mikey said nothing. He simply looked around in confusion, getting his bearings and perfividly coming back to reality. He listened, but couldn't hear them. Everything was numb and strange, every sound and image baffled him. All he knew was he hadn't been here anymore. But he was here again, now. Here with his brothers.

... I did not intend for this ...

Yes, I intended to send the spores.

And yes, I intended to have them sent after Donatello.

I even intended for them to miss him entirely, for Michelangelo to rush in his place and take the hit for him.

But I never intended this.

Michelangelo was meant to see a different fear entirely.

Michelangelo is afraid of being the frailest, the smallest, the weakest of the brood. Dear little Mikey is afraid that he has nothing of importance to offer. He is always relying on the others to help him, to save him. He has nothing to offer them in return. Mikey tries to do what he can, but deep down he is afraid that one of these days, his brothers will discover that HE needs THEM far more than they could ever need him.

Truly, THAT was what he was meant to see. I had no idea he would see... all that.

They told me no one would get hurt. They told me no one would die. They promised me. And they lied.

It was a good game while it lasted. But I'm not having fun with it anymore.

No one was meant to be hurt like this.

No one was meant to die.

I suppose this means I'll have to do what I can to fix things, now.

"L-Leo," croaked Mikey, who slowly raised his hand and pointed a trembling finger. "Hand…"

“What... what are you saying, Mike?"

“Hand,” Mikey clarified, stressing his wobbly finger as he gestured behind them.

The boys followed Mikey's direction.

The Hand.PNG was crawling towards them.

"G-Get it away from Mikey!" Leo screamed, kicking his feet in the creature's direction.

"Don't let it come any closer!"

"WHERE'S MY TECH-BŌ?!"

"Please, if you could simply pause for a moment, I'd like to make you an offer."

Everything stopped.

Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey froze, jaws dropping to the floor as they heard the hand speak at them.

"You... y-you can talk?" Mikey's voice came out grated and raspy.

"Yes."

"What... why are you just deciding to speak now?" Raphael asked.

"And why have you been tormenting us all?!" Donnie bellowed, gripping his tech-bō tightly as possible.

"And what did you mean, you wanted to make an offer?" Leon interrupted. "An offer for what?"

"I was wondering if I could offer you my services. How would you like to rescue your family and destroy the fear fungus?”

[konigsblog]

captain's punishment .

summary; you're lost in a mission, price is angry and frustrated when you finally arrive back to base, teaching you a proper lesson the right way, and punishing you for being immature.

trigger warnings; degrading, rough sex, price is mean, exhibitionism (slightly), blowjobs, gagging, hair pulling, spanking, shit writing (message me if i missed anything) mean!price x f!reader, female anatomy (afab)

read more?

to say price was upset is an understatement. he expect better, especially from you. you'd been in the tasks force for years, you were a sergeant, someone who knew better than to get lost in the middle of a mission.

he'd thought you'd died, finally hearing your voice after a few days, getting your radio to work. “this is dove, come in.” you tried, muttering out your callsign.

price was in the middle of a rescue mission, searching for you, your voice ringing in his ears. “dove? where are you?” his voice was stern and cold, you could sense the anger behind the façade of being calm. “safehouse, i'll send my location.”

you were happy to be found. living off a couple things you'd found in the safehouse, the windows smashed in and allowing octobers harsh and unforgiving wind to breeze by.

the sound of the snow crushing against his crimson stained boots, the soles engraved with blood. as soon as he was on the concrete, his footsteps became louder, alerting you of his arrival. “you here, kid?” he'd call out, his gun pointed up as he scanned the area before his gaze landed on you.

no one else was behind him, it was a solo rescue, knowing he'd find you and come back in one shape, with you clinging to his arm. his gaze hardened, gritting his teeth as he put his gun down. “fuck, dove.” he cursed lowly, under his breath, smoke coming from his mouth, unsure of whether that was the smoke from his cigar or the affects from the cold weather.

“'m sorry, price..” you averted your eyes from him, avoiding eye contact before his glover hand grasped at your jaw, forcing you to look into his eyes. “you stupid? never remembered you to be this immature. should've told us immediately.” price towered above you, you were safe against a couch, old and tattered.

big doe eyes stared up at him, clearly guilty. “my radio, didn't work.” you looked into his eyes, seeing you all vulnerable beneath him was something he'd never experienced. you were a strong soldier, unable of making mistakes, something he'd never expected from you until now. it made him feel something; it made his cock twitch and throb, sighing lowly.

“wanna make it up to me?” suddenly the atmosphere changed. his bulge became more visible, more prominent. you nodded shyly, his hand still lingering of your jaw til it moved to his fly. unzipping it, maintaining eye contact, seeing the desire inside your pretty and adoring eyes.

his cock springed from his boxers, half hard, slightly dripping with precum. he nudged it against your soft lips, pushing inside, groaning when you wrapped those lips around him. john's hand immediately grasped at your hair, pushing you further onto his length til you hit his base, letting out a gag, your nose tickling his pubes.

dragging you off his size, tongue flat against his shaft, head thrown back. he let go of your skull, letting you set the pace. your fingers wrapped around his girth, not meeting due to how wide he is. swirling your tongue around the tip and sucking on his generously, taking his precum and tasting it on your pink tongue.

“fuck..- girl, that's it, you slut.” he grunted loudly, gazing down at you and admiring you, the way you dragged your tongue along each vein, moans muffled, hypnotised to the metallic and bitter taste of his semen. you whined, feeling as he pulled your hair, yanking you off his dick and forcing you back down. using your throat like a fleshlight, addicted to the sounds of your struggle.

“want your cum, sir..” you coughed, whining. “mm', bet you want it inside that pretty pussy, don't you?” a whimper left your lips, nodding your head eagerly, rubbing your thighs together. “spread those legs then, butterfly.”

you leaned back against the couch, shuffling your pants off and spreading your legs. you bit your lip, hiding the sounds you wanted to let out, feeling as he traced your slit over the material of your panties, soaked and ruined. “all wet f'me.” a chuckle escaped his throat, ripping your panties off in one swift movement, causing you to squirm and squeal.

he didn't even prepare you, slowly easing into your pussy, pulling your shirt up as he bottomed out inside you. grasping at your tits and squeezing them, fully revealing your tits, his tongue encircling your hardened nipples.

full and thick balls slapped against your tight ass, which each thrust making you clench around him, unable to think of anything other than your mean captain. “had my eyes on you for a while, soldier..” he breathed out, beginning to slam into your wet pussy as his pace increased.

you mewled for him to slow down. hairy ballsack knocking against your ass, girthy and meaty cock stretching out your pussy. it was painful, yet the pleasure took your mind off it, taking over any concerns about the pain. the sensation burned in your stomach, arching your back further into him.

“such a naughty girl, aren't you? not listening to your superior, huh?!” price became more upset, grabbing you by the scalp and forcing your head down again the comfort of the couch. he started to pound into you painfully, making you choke on a sob, eyes glistening slightly.

feeling so fucked-out already, the texture of each vein lugging against your gummy and soft walls was pleasurable. his radio began making sounds, the voice familar, gaz. “y'alright, sir? haven't heard from you.” and to make it worse, he didn't stop. “yeah, at the safehouse, sending my location for helo” he spoke, the sounds of skin slapping and moans loud, definitely heard by kyle.

“s-sir-” he put a finger to his mouth, silencing you. you couldn't stop moaning and they only grew louder as you grew more needy. knowing that helo would be here soon, you knew you would have to get this over with quickly. throwing the radio onto the coffee table, starting to ram into your swollen and sore cunt harder, faster, meaner.

“fuckin' be quiet, such a loud girl, aren't you? you want them to hear you? whore.” you gasped out, his thumb stimulating your clit, rubbing it over and over again yet pulling away everytime he thought you were coming closer to your orgasm. he wanted to drag it out, make you weep and beg him, pleading for your release.

his broad hips smacked into you again, repetitive skin slapping sounds filling the rooms silence, your noises probably heard from outside the building. his grip on your head tighten, other hand running up your waist to your breasts, running back down to your hip and squeezing. his grip tightened as he held you like a ragdoll, using you like a fleshlight, his pace coming to a stop. “if you're so desperate, fuck yourself back on my cock, dove.”

you cried out, bouncing yourself back onto his weeping length, his grasp tightening more as your walls pulsed around him. “n-need you” your pretty eyes that he loved to look at rolled to the back of your head, shut tight as you clenched around him. his tip grew red and angry, signalling that he was about to come.

panties were stuffed into your mouth, the taste of your arousal quietening your whining. you could taste the sweetness on your tongue, his thumb rubbing your clit again, causing you to squirt all over him. you came around him, milking him for all his thick cum.

it oozed from your precious hole, tight and spilling potent semen from it. your chest rised and fell as you caught your breath, pulling out your cunny and grabbing his belt, spanking your painful pussy, the cries you let out making him chuckle. the material of the belt causing a ‘thwap’ sound to echo throughout the four walls, continuing to abuse your cunt, still annoyed after that mission.

“m' sorry, sir!! please-, sir-!” he spanked your thighs a few more times, slapping your clit once before pushing you up. “hm', think i've taught you a lesson, dove?” you nodded, wanting a long and cold shower to wash of the dirt sweat and grime from your skin. he pulled you up, grabbing your pants and telling you to put them on, having to wear your soaked panties beneath them.

your belt looped through the loops, tightening it before the you heard the helo. the loud sounds of it approaching alerted you two, grabbing your wrist and pulling you out with him.

sighing as you sat down, smiling at soap who looked st you confused. it was pretty obvious what happened; your hair a mess, clothes messily and sloppily put on, clearly in a rush. and your mascara was smeared, you swear you could see ghost smirking, a low laugh leaving him quietly.

“lass, your fly's undone.” johnny had a huge grin on his face, smirking at you with a look that told you ‘i know what you did’ “o-oh, i didn't notice." wincing as you felt your cunt ache and throb, fixing your pants, embarrassed as everyone knew what you and price were up to, minutes prior.

[robin374]

Dancing with the mercs at a disco

Notes: I'll be posting requests soon >:) Also, I'm writing this from my experience with discos and clubs. I don't know how discos are in your hometowns.

Characters: Scout, Medic and Demoman.

Scout:

It takes a bit of time for him to dance confidently. It's just a totally different environment for him, too many people for him, but when you assure him that everyone is more focused on their partner or just the music, he gets that boost of confidence that he starts to believe that it's just you and him.

Definitely dances to Tom Jones, he forgets all the lessons Spy gave him and starts dancing the way his body knows. It looks like he's a bird trying to seduce their mate, but let him be.

Also, knows all the dances for reggaeton. He takes by the waist and moves his hips to that Latin rhythm he absolutely likes. At some point you two have been the centre of attention of the disco, that's why the DJ put old reggaeton to boost your confidence.

BREAK DANCE, BREAK DANCE 🗣️🗣️

EVERYONE LEAVE THE DANCE FLOOR BECAUSE HE'S GONNA BREAK IT WITH THOSE FORBIDDEN MOVES.

Winks at you while doing some difficult break dance moves, and he will even blow you a kiss.

Medic:

He is angry, he doesn't want to be in that loud and closed place. He can even see the amount of germs and sweat flying around the air. You will find him in a corner trying to comfort a crying girl that got cheated on.

You will accompany her out of the disco and call her a taxi to her house. Then, he will convince you to go to a bar near the disco, where 'they put real good music'.

He will ask some beers for you two and talk, you notice he's more comfortable in that environment. He's more talkative and open, you haven't seen that grumpy side of his since you left the disco. You learned that discos are not his type of place to go out partying.

You two are now regular customers of that bar.

You two went to your house a bit tipsy, you didn't want him to go to his house alone, so you invited (forced) him to sleep in your house. However, he turned on the radio and started dancing with you, not these slow romantic songs, no. He danced to the exact same songs that DJ put back in the disco. You were surprised, couldn't help but join his dance.

"I just feel more comfortable dancing just with you alone. We don't want everyone to see you dancing for me, do we?"

Demoman:

He's not drunk, surprisingly. He wanted to be sober to remember how you moved your body to the rhythm of the music. Of course, he drank just a bit so he could be more confident.

MOTHERFUCKER DANCES TO EVERYTHING.

He didn't hesitate to take you by the waist and move your body with his. He enjoys dancing, and if it's with the love of his life? Bro is in paradise.

Doesn't care for the other people, he's dancing with you and just you. If hee sees someone with the intention of dancing with you, nuh uh, they are not touching you

Definitely kissed you while doing the most deranged, dirty, eye orgasmic, toe curling, enjoyable couple dance.

For him, it was romantic. His mother will say the contrary, but everything you two do is romantic for him. I mean, if making Spy eat a grenade is romantic, dancing with you is too.

[powderblueblood]

I know this has been done a million and one times, but Eddie just vibing at the gas station. Something inevitably goes wrong. Please and thanks dear Powder

jo my love i present to you 1k+ words of eddie munson's no good very bad wednesday night no warnings! just silly. and acab includes hopper

So it's eight thirty on a Wednesday night, the very armpit of the week, and Eddie's standing there under the glare of the gas station fluorescents. Right in the heart of the snack aisle.

"What's become apparent to me, Sam, is-is-is-is that it's fear. It's the iron claw of the bonds of being a scaredy-cat little bitch that has stunted me fundamentally."

Loaded. So stoned he's stalagmite.

"See, I'm a capable guy. Many capes have I, but it's like, I've finally mastered the fuck-you-chip-on-my-shoulder adolescent thing that I'm reluctant to let it go. I'm skirting around putting on my big boy pants. I'm failing my courses. I'm dumbing myself down to stick around high school, seemingly, on purpose. Because I'm afraid!"

Eddie's pouring his heart out to the narcoleptic octogenarian cashier, the guy that likely built this place out of shiplap and bullet casings way back when it was a horseshit stop for Buffalo Bill's Wild West Freak Show or whoever.

"And I know what you're thinking." Sam isn't thinking anything. Sam's sleeping with his eyes wide open. "Why not really, grr, take root with that family tree, huh? Drop out like my old man and my uncle did? Well, I'll tell ya--"

Eddie wonders, in the middle of his own sentence, what it'd be like to hitch his wagon to an operation like that and coast solely on being a moorless weirdo.

He's really stoned, okay?

"--high school is easy to fail in. Real life? Isn't."

And look, before you get all, he's got good reason. It's been a particular drag of a week, a real sandpaper to the balls kind of kick off. Corroded Coffin's Tuesday night engagement at the Hideout was a special kind of bust--not least of all because the slapdash stage finally gave way under all that threatening creaking, and almost took Jeff's neck with it.

The neck of his bass and his human body. Neither of which Jeff's ass is in any position to fix.

So Eddie's got a band that's bruised and barely in the pocket, and a mouth that won't stop running.

“WSQK 94.5, The Squawk!” Eddie echoes the radio, complete with eagle screech, as the opening chords of Renegade by Ted Nugent & the Amboy Dukes pick up. "Hawk-ening right back to a time when Ted Nugent hadn't yet sold all his actual guitaristry to that pissant Wango Tango-ing... You know what, man, this is it!"

His ringed hands come down on the counter all a-clatter, chip crumbs flying out the bag he hasn't quite paid for yet.

"Lock me in a room full of records under a radio tower and throw away the key, I mean, I would be good to fucking go. None of that shock-jock shit, either. I'd play nothing but real music. The Hawkins Midnight Rambler, huh?" But Sam isn't paying sufficient enough attention. "Think I got a face for radio, Sammy?" Because he's asleep.

It takes a couple of molasses-slow moments for Eddie to register this, he himself still working through his own big sluggishness. I mean, damn, even waving a hand in front of the old man's face is an effort.

He's out, though, like a light. Makes Eddie wonder how this place stays open, much less unrobbed.

Well. Careful what you wish for there, buddy.

His hand is slinking toward a Three Musketeers, ready to nab it from the shelf right under old Sam's nose and write him a little IOU for whenever he next has the cash, but Eddie senses a shuffling behind him.

"Put your fuckin' hands in the air!"

Oh? "Dude, what?"

There's this guy behind him, this guy whose corporeal form Eddie can't be a bajillion percent sure isn't, like, a vivid hallucination, with pantyhose tugged over his face. Poking a pistol around under the cover of his camo jacket. The whole bit.

"Put your hands in the air or I put a hole through ya, asshole! You too, old man!"

Eddie tuts, hands still very much hovering near that candy bar.

"What's the fucking hold up, you and your grandpa tryin' to get shot or somethin?!" this very serious masked assailant demands.

"He's asleep, guy," Eddie says. "He can't hear you."

"What?!" our villain splutters, "Well... wake the fuck up! I ain't got all day and I want what's in that reg--"

He goes to point his still-concealed fuckin' sharp shooter or whatever it is he has at Sam's face, and Eddie, with this strange surge of protectiveness and complete buffoonery, nudges his arm away.

"Don't! Number one, dude's a narcoleptic, you could give him a heart attack if you just woke him up like that--number two, I saw him pull a sawed off from under that counter one time and you're in way closer range so the hole he blows through you is gonna be, like, way bigger and... like, he'll kill you and shit. Be cool."

The would-be thief groans. Oh, god, Eddie just knows he thought this hit job would be way easier. In and out, quick and dirty, wham-bam-thank you Sam.

Eddie nearly laughs. He does laugh, actually, because he's still super-mega fucking high and can't exactly control the noises that come out of his mouth, so next thing the dude is rounding on him with the thing in his pocket. Eddie actually puts his hands up this time. Feels a cold shock go through him somewhere that he really hopes isn't piss.

You ever get that? Get so stoned you constantly think you're peeing yourself? Anyway.

"Get the fuck behind the counter! If the old man can't open the register for me, you're gonna do it!"

"But I don't know how." Liar. Lying ass. Eddie knows how to work a goddamn register. It's not like he's tucking that money from the Hideout straight into his garter belt. Though he could. Maybe he should. Maybe he should buy a garter b--

"I'm gonna tell you how, dickhead!"

"What's in it for me?"

"Is that a fucking joke, wise guy?"

Only kinda. Closed mouths never get fed. "Worth a shot."

But Eddie doesn't really love this dude's tone, so he obediently scoots behind the counter, and almost gets distracted by all the copies of Penthouse Sam is keeping back here. He knew the bastard was holding out on him.

"Um..." Eddie gingerly starts, hands just sort of floating in the direction of the register in a way he hopes to Christ won't disturb Sam and wake him into a world of cardiac calamity.

So the guy tells him what buttons to push, clearly a man of the trade, a fellow familiar with wiling countless hours away behind a counter, which makes Eddie be all, why don't you steal from your own job, you shyster and keeps hitting the wrong buttons on purpose.

But dear old Sammy must have this thing rigged to make Eddie look like an asshole, because out pops the fucking drawer anyhow!

This guy, the pantyhose head, the robber, lets out an honest-to-god yippee! as he reaches over to snatch that cash.

And Eddie, working solely on instinct at this point, narrows his lovely red-rimmed eyes and shoves the drawer right in on the unlucky fuck's fingers.

He screams. And Eddie screams. And something falls out of his pocket. And Eddie leans over the counter, expecting to see and hear the shiny clatter of a pistol hit the lino.

But there is no such hardware.

It was a banana in his pocket. He was not happy to see you.

"What the fuck, man!" they chorus in near unison. They could have been brothers in another life, says some disembodied voice in the back of Eddie's head.

But then, something yellow flies towards Eddie's face and the shock of it knocks him right back into the lotto tickets and cigarettes. Thunk! His head knocks far too hard against the fire extinguisher and now there's two unconscious guys behind the counter.

Now, I don't know if you've ever had a banana thrown in your face by a masked assailant before, but I would call that something of an overreaction.

Anyway, he wakes up to police sirens and that Callaghan dweeb hauling him up by the front of his Hellfire shirt.

"Sshsjesus, Officer Handsy, buy a guy dinner first," Eddie slurs, head pounding. Callaghan's dorky Buddy Holly glasses have an aura around them that he unconsciously tries to swat away.

"He's resisting arrest!" Callaghan yells.

"Keep it down, I have a headache!" Eddie blinks once, twice, twenty-million times and is still having a tough time taking stock of his surroundings. Cash drawer's open and empty, and Sam is nowhere to be seen. "Didja catch the guy or what? He had a banana gun. Threw it right at me."

"Pipe down. Edward Munson, you're under arrest for armed robbery--"

"--wait, hold on--"

"--endangering the elderly--"

"--hold the fuck on!"

"--and swearing at a police officer!" Callaghan clicks the cuffs on and Eddie's about to burst, he's so mad and his head is pounding with such a fury. Shuffling him out into the forecourt and into the squad car like some kind of penguin idiot!

"That last thing isn't even real!" he spits, "None of this is real--I was trying t--fuck, did you not hear me about the banana gun?!"

"Reminds me to drug test him when we get back to the station," Callaghan puffs as he slides into the passenger seat.

"No one's drug testing anybody," Chief Hopper grumbles from behind the wheel. "We don't even have those facilities. Plus, kid doesn't even have any of that stolen cash on him."

"Thank you!" Eddie barks from his seat in the back. He can't really seem to sit upright, and he doesn't know whether to contribute that to the lump that's risen on the back of his head or the drugs that are definitely still in his system.

"W--well, why are we arresting him, then?" Callaghan blubs. Which is actually a salient point.

The Chief shrugs. "I'unno. Wednesday night. Somethin' to do."

[kanmom51]

SEVEN

So there is something I only realised this morning.

I can't believe I didn't see it before, but then I was so used to how things were done so far that it totally slipped by me.

The release times.

They are all US ET.

Not KST.

How I didn't notice this before is beyond me (given there were literally 2 posters, one in English and one in Korean, but my brain was living on past experience).

My brain was on automat, cause since when do BH release songs with US ET detailed schedules? ONLY ET schedule?????

It's like even in the schedule poster they are disconnecting JK from the Korean music scene. This isn't a K-pop song with a KST release time. Not for those that see the poster in English. They separated them. One for the Korean consumer, one for the American (I'm getting there, bare with me).

And once I digested that piece of information I knew that what I was thinking all along is a given.

JK is a big part of BPD's end game. This, Seven, it's part of BPD's end game.

It's a song in English. Created for the US market, the American consumer.

It's going to be flogged, well it is already, like no other BTS or BTS member song has been before it.

That MV, it's going to be big. Production big.

A lot of thought and planning has been put into this.

They are throwing it all at this song.

And the way I see it, this will also be the first song to be played on the radio. I really believe we are going to be getting Seven played on the radio. Like A LOT. Like lots of money changing hands to make it happen A LOT. Like lots of but kissing to make it happen A LOT.

Because BPD wants Korean artists and Kpop to reach the next level. Which is not only fan acknowledgement. He wants them to acknowledged as artists, just like any other artist who releases music in the States. He wants the stupid ass stigma that stuck to K-pop erased. He wants in. And Seven is the start of it.

They always had their eyes set on JK.

That is one of the reasons they were unprepared for JM and his success hit them right in the Face. Literally. They underestimated JM's power. They didn't know what to do with it. In a way, didn't want it. It wasn't part of the big plan. JK is.

And now thinking back to Qatar - I can't help but wonder, was it the organizers request only for JK or was it what Hybe wanted?

And that's a hell of a lot to put on JK's shoulders.

I do hope that this works. Not for Hybe's sake, nor BPDs. I want JK to do well. I want this for him, assuming this is what he wants too.

Look, everything I'm writing here can be a big pile of bull crap.

I could be proven totally wrong. No radio play, no big push, no big production. But wait. I think it's safe to say that the MV was a big production (flying out a well known Korean actress to LA to film, and what is with the Recording film?). Oh, and since when did we ever get posters all over the world for a single? I kind of think I'm on the right path here...

Anyway, if I'm wrong I'll own it. But I really do think this is part of the big plan. And my question is what's next?

Well, truthfully that's just one question. And I for one have plenty more. That have to do with JK and what he wants and what it means... for him and for JM and for them as a couple.

[vroombeams]

it's too much there's too much world < sounds like my cup of tea despite me knowing null abt it!! I'm curious!

ah yes landoscar long distance relationship au!

it's turning out to be one of those wips where i'm like. i'll hop in and pick at it every now and then but it makes me like pretty sad to write so it's a small-dose sitch?? it is essentially a love letter to internet friends and a hate letter to the concept of distance lmao

non-driver au, it's so early days that i've not really even sorted what anyone's doing outside of being hopeless and miserable?? but it's like. oscar is working [job] that he really isn't into and he's just having a bit of a slumpy year or two? sad and stagnating or whatever and he's thinking about quitting and looking for something else, but then he meets lando in some forum online and they hit it off, and oscar spends all of the time he can talking to lando, and it sort of like. renews his zest for life? and all the shitty sloggy things are more manageable because he's got this presence in his life now that makes things easier to look at

after they get into the relationship, also, lando does encourage oscar to find some other job that doesn't make him want to peel his skin off, but at that point oscar's already saving every penny and making mental plans to fly to the UK the second lando is okay with him coming to visit. so he doesn't want to start anything new and risk any hiccoughs in pay or also potentially not being able to take the time off he can with his current job etc etc

anyway the fic is of course set around the leadup to their first in-person meeting and then the in-person meeting itself and the two weeks oscar spends staying with lando and how uhhhh. that all goes

pretty big chunk of messy wip under the cut!!

~

The quality in the Discord window settles and he can see Lando’s face properly. The soft square of his jaw. The pink bow of his mouth, curling out and up into a smile that makes Oscar’s chest ache.

He hurts to look at, when it’s like this. When it’s late and Oscar’s had all day to think about how badly he wants him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Lando says. The curve of his mouth goes sheepish. Lando’s selfish, in his way. He expects Oscar to be there when he’s said he’ll be there. But he knows what he’s asking for. They both know all of their uneven parts that don’t quite fit, the pieces of their lives that they’re jamming together, GMT peg into AEST hole.

Oscar shakes his head and he smiles back and he doesn’t have to force that, at least. "No worries. Tell me about your day?”

And Lando’s good at talking, so he does. He tells Oscar about his day, and the job that he doesn’t love but that pays the bills, and about his best friend’s new girlfriend. Lando’s good at talking and Oscar’s good at listening, so that’s what they do. Lando's little late night podcast for an audience of one; Oscar's personal, nightly radio show that quite thoroughly unravels his heartstrings every time.

“Oscar,” Lando says. Oscar blinks. He’s pretty sure he hadn’t been falling asleep. He could probably repeat back whatever Lando’s just said to him.

“Yeah?”

Lando’s quiet for a second, so still that Oscar wonders for a second if his camera’s frozen.

“Less than a month,” Lando says, so quiet that Oscar’s ears twitch.

Oscar smiles. This one’s not forced either. This one he can’t help. It forces itself out instead of having to be pulled. Less than a month and he'll be getting on a plane with a bag packed for two weeks in London. Less than a month and he'll have Lando in front of him, real and in person.

“Yeah,” Oscar says. “I—yeah. I’m excited.”

It's not eloquent or enough but his voice cracks, comes unstuck on its way up. Little hands, desperate fingers, clawing at the insides of his cheeks where a smile wants to haul itself into something worse. 

“Me too,” Lando says. Soft. That’s how Oscar knows he really means it. These are the moments; when Lando goes so soft and quiet. These are the moments that Oscar knows it’s real.

[whips open trenchcoat] hey buddy wanna buy a wip

[goldenempyrean]

Caring for a Kryptonian

〚 Prompt - "You need to rest so you can get better and be your cute self again." 〛

〚 Pairing - Kara x Reader 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1800 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Oh god, seriously Kara, again?” You found yourself sighing deeply into the phone as your blonde-haired girlfriend admitted the news that yet again, she had lost her powers, “How’d it happen this time then?” 

Kara groaned and you were pretty confident that she was pouting too, “Stupid alien that I was fighting, it was resistant to everything!” 

You shook your head, “And let me guess, you pushed yourself way too far?” 

“Maybe…” She sighed a little this time and it was obvious she was beyond disappointed, “The whole point of flying out here was to get stronger and now I’m being sent home only 2 days in.” 

“Wait, they’re sending you home?” Kara had originally been sent out with the DEO for what Alex had called ‘a week of intensive hell’, they’d planned to had Kara train somewhere in the remote outback of Australia to test her endurance in different climates despite her insistence that it really wouldn’t make a difference. But the sudden appearance of other worldly life had put the week to a sudden halt. 

“They’re putting me on a plane later tonight,” Kara whined a little louder this time, “It’s so not fair, I hate flying inside metal boxes when I could literally just do it myself.” 

You couldn't help but chuckle at her complaint about flying in a metal box. It was a typical Kara response, always longing for the freedom her powers provided. However, you couldn't deny that her situation was less than ideal. 

"Well, at least you'll be back home soon," you replied sympathetically. "You push yourself way too hard, we both know it. So maybe some time off will do you good, just come home, we’ll grab some junk food and relax. Then maybe we’ll throw James down an elevator shaft again and get those powers of yours back.” 

Your girlfriend gave a small chuckle, “Maybe,” There was another voice coming from the other side of the phone, “Baby, I need to go, they want to do some tests then I have to go pack my stuff up. They can’t spare anything private so I’m gonna have to take a commercial flight so It’ll be like 9 hours or so. I’ll be home around 10pm.” 

You felt a pang of sympathy at the news of Kara's long journey home. Nine hours on a commercial flight sounded tiresome, especially for someone used to soaring through the skies effortlessly. But it was part of the reality she had to face, balancing her superhuman abilities with the mundane aspects of life. 

"Alright, Kara," you replied, trying to sound supportive despite your own frustration. "I'll be waiting for you when you get home and don't worry, I'll have all your favourite snacks ready for you." 

"I love you," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and longing. 

"I love you too," you replied, your voice matching hers in tenderness. "Stay safe, and remember, you're amazing with or without your powers." 

With that said, you finished your phone call and began tidying your apartment up - after all you didn’t need your girlfriend coming back to a messy home. Truthfully as day grew into night you couldn’t help but get excited, tomorrow would mean Kara and that was all you could think about. 

It was all you could think about the following day as well, you’d slept in a little, hoping to pass the hours somehow. The day was seemed to slowly creep day, each hour feeling longer than the last. 

Dinner consisted of some frozen microwaved meal, a little bland but the hoard of snacks and drinks that you’d secured was sure to tide you over, all you needed now was SuperGirl herself. To be honest though, you were kinda surprised she hadn’t texted by now, Kara definitely wasn’t one to go radio silent. 

But after what felt like a lifetime you finally heard the latch to your apartment door click open and the distinct sound of your girlfriend’s boots hit the wooden floor. 

“Hi sweetheart!” You called out excitedly, rushing out of the kitchen into the entrance way, opening your arms to give your girlfriend a huge bear hug, “How was the flight, how come you didn’t text, I-“ 

Kara stopped you suddenly when you went to reach out for her, keeping you an arm's length away, “Don’t- hih!- come too close, I thinHh’iishoo! ..Heh-Hh’iitshiew!” 

You blinked in surprise as Kara sneezed not once, but twice, in quick succession but before you could even begin to wonder what was wrong, your girlfriend answered your question. 

“It happened again!” She whined hoarsely, sending herself into a small flurry of coughing but she didn’t stop you from coming closer this time and you gently ran your hand down her bag as she regained her breath. 

“You’re sick?” You filled in the obvious gap, hand leaving her back and instead coming to meet her own instead. She felt hot. I mean, Kara ran hot usually but this was different. Her usually peachy and bright complexion was pasty and white, she definitely wasn’t feeling well. 

She huffed a little, sniffling at her runny nose as you guided her to sit down on the couch, “The lady next to me in the lobby was sniffling the whole time and I thought I could just avoid her but guess who I was sat next to on the plane?” You already knew the answer before she continued, “Nobody else but miss contagious hhH- lady- Hi’tshiew!” 

You made a sympathetic noise whilst reaching over to take a couple of tissues from the box sitting neatly on the coffee table, “Oh darling, I’m sorry. You’re non-super immune system really sucks, doesn’t it?” 

Kara sniffled and nodded, blowing her nose into the tissue. "Tell me about it," she replied, her voice still hoarse. "I wish I had my Kryptonian immune system right now.” 

"Well, lucky for you, I'm here to take care of you," You said with a smile before giving her a playful nudge, “Just try to keep those super-germs to yourself this time, alright? We don’t want a repeat of the Alex situation.”  

The last time Kara had gotten sick she’d managed to not only break her arm but as a consequence of that, her tissue covering skills were severely impacted and unfortunately for her sister, Alex just so happened to be in her line of fire resulting in a very sick, very sulky agent a few days later. 

Kara chuckled weakly, remembering the incident with her sister. "Yeah, I'll try my best to contain my super-germs this time," she replied, giving you a sheepish smile. "I really appreciate you taking care of me, though. You're the best." 

You returned the gesture before pressing a small kiss to her warm cheek, “Don’t mention it. I have snacks, movies and blankets. We even have potstickers. I wasn’t originally planning for a sick-day evening but I’m sure we can improvise. Oh! You do know this means I’m gonna make you take the green goo right?” 

The ‘green goo’ is what Kara had originally called NyQuil when she first saw it out of the bottle and the name stuck ever since. Oh, how you wished you could’ve captured the way her face dropped at the mere mention of medicine. 

But before she could complain, her face shifted from an expression of disbelief to waiting anticipation as she scrunched up her nose preemptively. 

“Bless-“ You cut in a second too early, causing her to lose the tickle and the blonde rubbed at her nose as she gave you an adorably pouty frown. For added measure you made sure to boop the tip of her red nose as you stood up from the couch before heading into the kitchen as you called out, “Stay put, I’ll return with your green goo that you’re definitely going to be taking.” 

As stepped into the kitchen you heard Kara sneeze once, twice… trice? Before whining loudly afterwards as her raspy voice carried her displeasure, “Those were your fault!” 

“I know.” You laughed back before hurrying to locate the medicine and another box of tissues, both of which were under the sink in the small white basket you’d dedicated to sick-day supplies. “Bless you, by the way.” You smiled, coming back to Kara to hand her the medicine and extra tissue box before disappearing and quickly reappearing with a glass of water and a can of Dr Pepper. 

“Alrighty, water for you miss sickie.” You offered the drink of water when you sat back down beside her, to which she crossed her arms as she looked longingly at the cool can in your other hand and you easily knew what she was hinting at,  “No way missy, this is mine. Property of me.” 

“I like Dr Pepper too y’know.” She murmured, trying to sound alluring but the facade was quickly broken when it sent her into a flutter of coughing. 

“Really? Who would’ve known.” You smiled playfully as you teased her a little, 

“If you take your medicine and drink the whole glass of water then maybe you can have one, okay?” 

She seemed to mull over your deal before agreeing, wordlessly handing you back the NyQuil to pour out a dose for her, “You sure you couldn’t have done that yourself SuperGirl?” 

“Well if I’m too sick to have Dr Pepper I wouldn’t want to strain myself opening a lid, would I?” Kara sighed dramatically, taking the green goo from you and giving you a mock glare. "You're too good to me," she added lovingly before downing the medicine with a sip of water. 

"I know," you replied, smirking. "It's just one of the many perks of being your amazing girlfriend." 

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're such a dork," she said, leaning back against the couch cushions. "But I love you." 

“I love you too pumpkin, now try and relax a little.” You whispered back, kissing her forehead as you took the blanket draped along the back of the sofa and pulled it around yourselves, allowing your girlfriend to sink beside you whilst she cuddled into your side. 

You didn’t really pay too much mind on what movie to put on, you knew she’d fall asleep soon anyway and your point was so perfectly proved because you were still browsing the seemingly endless rows of Netflix when small, congested but oddly cute snores began rising from the sniffling superhero at your side. You smiled, not bothering to pick a movie anymore. 

Instead, you wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close, sure you both might’ve been comfier more in bed but for now, you were content just to hold her like this.  

Afterall, nothing in the world mattered more than when Kara was in your arms. 

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[roseshewrites]

RadioApple Week ; ~DANCE~ I forget the day number oops)

Am I doing this right?! I completely missed this whole week because I literally just rejoined tumblr. Anyway, here's my out of context mid-fanfic contribution to RadioApple Week. (You'll have to forgive the inconsistencies of Alastor's knowledge of the song it's an unedited WIP, regardless one of my favorite scenes)

-Getting the ballroom ready for a patron's wedding venue

-Fred Astaire songs ensue

**********

"You shouldn't apologize." 

Alastor looked away from Lucifer at the blue windows, as if invested in them instead of what he had just seen- a magnetic little creature bouncing and brimming with ideas, his eyes shining with the love of dreams and invention. Lucifer was... 

Well, he was rather cute at that moment.

"Pardon?" 

"Oh," Alastor said, "I mean, you shouldn't apologize for loving something. Don't bring yourself down. It will turn you cold." 

He allowed a true grin and added, "Anyway, if you should turn all depressed and miserable on us, your daughter will have a fit, and that ruins everyone else's day." 

"Yeah you're right," Lucifer said. "Huh. So what do you know about being depressed and miserable?" 

"Nothing at all," Alastor responded airily, "Shall we let Charlie know this may be the only available room?" 

"Sure." 

Lucifer turned around and on a whim it seemed, made blue and white twinkle lights appear around the ceiling rim with a wave of his hands, making the room seem full of starlight. 

Alastor heard him whistling a tune from behind him.

"What is that from?" It sounded familiar. 

Lucifer chuckled, "You're a fan of tap dance, and you don't know Fred Astaire? He is *the* king of tap. It's from Top Hat." 

"I don't watch picture shows."

He was lying. He remembered that song, now. He'd seen the movie, used to play it on repeat back when he'd actually owned a television set...before Vox had inexplicably ruined them for him.

"You should. You'd like that one. *Isn't this a lovely day to be caught in the rain?*," Lucifer sang. 

Alastor heard the little patter of a tap routine being conducted behind him and he whirled about to see it, amused. 

"You dance like Fred." 

Lucifer tried out a few different simpler footworks.

"Thought you don't watch 'picture shows.' And really? I always thought I was more of a Ginger." 

"I've seen it. And Fred's style is ecstatic. Well. More airy...he'd off and fly away if he didn't have her to  ground him." 

"You were going on your way now you've got to remaaaain..." 

"Oh, do stop, we have things to do." Alastor shoved him away, only for the little king to bounce back on his left, continuing to sing, "Just as you were going, leaving me all at seaaa! Gah!" (Alastor had shoved him again) 

"The clouds broke! They broke, and oh, what a break for mee!" 

Alastor whirled to get in his face, "Will you not shut your trap!" 

"I will after you dance with me. I know you adore the routine. I can see it. Your feet don't lie," Lucifer grinned. 

Alastor did. He knew how the song continued. He knew every inch of this scene; he'd watched it many times. It was one of the only movies he *would* sit and watch.

I can see the sun up high, though we're caught in a storm... 

I can see where you and I could be cozy and warm.

He remembered the expressiveness of Ginger's face as Fred cooed this song to her, giving him the time of day only in her smile, then giving up halfway through the song to let herself dance with him. 

Alastor let his radio crackle into the air, summoning the rest of the song with ease. 

"Let the rain pitter patter, but it really doesn't matter if the skies are gray...long as I can be with you, it's a lovely day!"~, Fred Astaire's voice echoed about the empty and softly lit ballroom. 

"You win. I'll dance," Alastor smirked, "But can you keep up?" 

"Oh it's on, Ginger!" Lucifer chuckled. 

"Then take it away, Fred." 

Astaire was a leader in his style, and Ginger a follower. Lucifer...there was that dominating presence again, that shine of confidence as they moved together, their footsteps and the song echoing around the room in tandem. It was one of the only times, Alastor thought, that he did not mind dancing in a style was more fluid, more of a matcher for his partner, and Lucifer's beat and energy was right on time with his. 

"Do you know round? How about swing?" Alastor tried a deviation from the movie routine and barely gave Lucifer time to adjust, but he caught on quickly, his deep laugh bouncing off the walls, then lost it just as fast but cracking up again as he tried to regain his balance. 

"Those are my feet you are trampling all over, sir," Alastor complained, catching Lucifer before he could stumble again and hit the floor. 

The music was reaching the faster part now, the bit that was full of thunderstorm noises and lightning, but they both were stationary- 

"Hah," Lucifer, still in Alastor's arms, looked up at him grinning, "A good dance partner you are not. Who throws styles all over the place like confetti?" 

"Hmm perhaps it's your fault for not reading my mind," Alastor responded. 

"Hey radio face, if I could read your mind, I'd have a whole lot of answers to a whole lot of questions I have right now." 

"Lucifer...shut up." 

"Make me," Lucifer challenged. 

Alastor kissed him. 

It was Lucifer's turn to make a noise of surprise and protest, to resist just the tiniest bit, push at Alastor's chest with his hands uselessly, then quickly melt...his lips were hot, and skilled, and now that Alastor was close to him again, he was detecting a soft sweet scent like perfume or shower soap.. 

Or..apples.

Just when Alastor wished it to go on further Lucifer drew them apart, whispering, his breath warm on his lips, and said, "Alastor...you're confusing the *shit* out of me right now." 

"Hmm...well," Alastor murmured, then grinned, "Payback's just an ornery old bitch, isn't it?"- he patted Lucifer's cheek sassily, "We should go and see what your daughter thinks of the room." 

With that, he left Lucifer behind, who was muttering some curse or other under his breath. 

[accioprocrastination]

Is she here?

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

A/N: Military inaccuracies, angst and fluff

TW: hints to PTSD, trauma, loss and anxiety

Jake POV

"As the Royal Navy already have extensive eyes in the region, we will do this mission in collaboration with some of their own" Cyclone starts speaking. I sit up straighter in my chair hoping that in some bizarre coincidence you'll be here. Javy gives me a look that I instantly know means he is questioning the same thing.

"Does that mean the spots on the mission will be allocated to them or that they will have a backup team?" Payback questions.

This is the only part of today that I have been active listening, suddenly having laser straight focus.

"Neither. We are getting coms from them and that will be reciprocated by you. They are running a separate mission on the same target. Naturally, their mission is classified but you will both be navigating the same terrain and dealing with the same enemy aircraft... Today we will be running a team exercise for you to know who you are flying with" Cyclone answers in the most convoluted way. I roll my eyes, it's typical that they expect us to work alongside them and not tell us why.

Maverick steps forward to take over. "You all know the mission parameters and each other's limits. I think that it is important that we get to know their flying so we are going to do more dogfighting. No missiles just guns. This will be done in teams UK v US. There's less of them than us so we will break up into groups" He says before calling up his first team to go get their flight suits on.

We listen on the radio as our team gets shot down over and over again. It is frustrating to only hear our coms so we have no means of knowing how they are shooting everyone down so fast or any understanding of their strategy.

It would be useful to know who these people are and how they work together. Also, more than anything else today, I just want to know if she's here.

Everyone leaves until it is just me, Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy.

"Don't leave us out to dry." Phoenix warns me as we step out onto the tarmac.

"I won't, we're winning this." I respond giving her a cocky smile. She nods.

"We need to pair off and cover more ground. You take Phoenix and Bob, I'll wingman Payback and Fanboy" Rooster directs me.

"Sir, yes sir." I mock salute as I walk towards my plane.

He gives me an unreadable expression. "Something is different about you today." Rooster remarks before dispersing. We don't have time for him to theorise or question me further.

*

Payback and Fanboy are out in literal seconds. Rooster gets lock on the person responsible then moves to protect Phoenix and Bob from the other side.

"You see anything Baby on Board?" I ask bob.

"Ignore him." Phoenix mutters.

"Nothing on the radar. Where are these guys?" Rooster asks the second that someone gets lock on him.

"They're below us." I confirm having watched someone put guns on Rooster.

We swing around to find them but as we're turning they go upwards into the sun.. "I can't see a thing!" I express, dropping back once I realise I've gone too quick and started to stray. That's when I see the plane gaining traction on her.

"Break right." I instruct her as I go after the other person and get them out with ease.

"Two down, two to go." Bob says.

"Great should be easy." Phoenix jabs with a small laugh.

"I've lost them in the sun." Bob informs us.

"Let's drop down slightly because we cannot see up here." Phoenix suggests.

"Break left hangman!" Bob bellows. I do so and it saves me but gives someone the opportunity to get lock on Phoenix and Bob.

"Fuck." I express. It's two against one.

I drop fast, needing to use the terrain here against their targeting systems. I break and one of them flies right over me as intended. I get a lock on them but not a plane on the radar directly behind me.

One v one.

I break left in an attempt to shake them. Predictably that does not work, so I go lower quickly reaching the hard deck. That does not deter them, they follow.

I try slowing down again but they anticipate the collision with me and invert above me to swing around and take the shot. I lock eyes with her then and she smirks. I give her the finger and she laughs - we both know she's about to shoot me down. "Holy shit she's good." I say as the lock tone rings.

Moving in line with her I wave enthusiastically before signalling for her to land. "God I am so in love with you." I mutter to myself completely oblivious to the fact that everyone is still on the radio channel downstairs.

Seconds after her, I land. She's already nowhere to be seen, probably gone to the lockers. By the time I get there she's gone. I swiftly strip out of my flight suit and into my uniform for a debrief.

"Nice of you to join us." Bob remarks as I meander in. I smile and put a toothpick in my mouth as Maverick starts talking. I'm listening to him, but my eyes are on you. How are you already stood here in your pearly whites looking so good after hours for dogfighting?

There's a phone on my desk. I pick it up wondering who it belongs to as I do not recognise it. I am met with a picture of myself as the lock screen - so you got a new phone.

I look back up at you and you're smirking: you want me to snoop at something. Looking away from Mav I glance down and unlock the phone. You're looking at a hotel in the Maldives, of course you are. I check the dates and press confirm glancing up every so often to look semi-engaged in whatever Maverick is saying. Bob coughs to get my attention and gives me a disapproving look as I start entering my card details.

I lock the phone again, placing it face down on the table to give you my undivided attention after Maverick announces, "Okay I'm going to shut up now and let our British counterparts introduce themselves."

True to word he stands back and you step forward.

"I'm Captain Y/N Seresin -" you start instantly cut off by Fanboy. "Any relation to Hangman here?" he asks.

She doesn't look at me as she lies. "No." she responds simply.

"I mean he did say that he loves you so that's a pretty big indication that you might know him more than you're letting on." Coyote says making me smirk. She knows he knows, so I expect her lie to falter.

"You've seen my flying, why are you surprised?" You respond winking at him.

"Everyone loves her." Phoenix says loudly over to Coyote not knowing he was best man at your wedding. There's no one else I would've asked to do that for me. You smile at her and nod in agreement.

"These are Lieutenants: Warren Smith, Harvey Brown, Suzie Radcliff, Thomas Raey and Rose Turner. As team leader, if you have any concerns or problems with any of them, which you shouldn't because they're all great, please come to me directly." You instruct us all.

You meet my gaze and I can't help myself but smile.

"What are your callsigns?" Rooster asks you, taking your attention off of me. I glare at him unconsciously annoyed.

"We don't have call signs like you do. Individual flights are given callsigns but these are not attached to the aviator." you briefly explain.

"Ah that's strange" Bradshaw responds.

"They were given honorary callsigns last time our paths crossed, I'm surprised you're not enforcing them since taking over the team Y/N" Phoenix speaks up.

"I'm not enforcing your drunken callsigns on anyone." You giggle playfully rolling your eyes at her.

"Where's Prince?" Phoenix questions looking over your lineup of aviators and noticing the missing party. Your smile is instantly gone, a frown taking its place.

"He's MIA." You respond voice ever so slightly quieter.

"Shit." Phoenix counters.

"It has been so long, I hope he's dead." Warren contributes.

I watch you instantly withdraw. It's not like you to go quiet. You cross your arms and I know you were there that day. Whatever happened to him, you witnessed it.

"Maybe he didn't eject?" Rose theorises.

So whatever happened, you haven't told your team?

"Dear God, can we not rehash this?" Tom asks loudly before looking to you. I know he's about to ask if you're okay you nod once as a silent answer to his unasked question. He was there too then.

That completely shuts down the conversation and you've mentally distanced yourself enough from the conversation to not instantly fill the silence like I'm used to.

"Let's just get on with this... Americans introduce yourselves." Tom speaks for you.

When everyone starts introducing themselves you snap out of whatever thought process gripped you, and start asking personalised questions to get to know the people you've never spoken to before.

When it comes to me you don't bother with a question because you already know me. That's your tell here. You haven't asked Coyote, me or Phoenix any questions.

Trace is looking over at me with a raised eyebrow having picked up on that. I raise my eyebrows back at her. "How?" She mouths. I laugh and tap my nose. It's a secret... because I have absolutely no idea what the answer to that question is. How on Earth I managed to score you is a mystery I do not think anyone will ever solve.

[prismuffin]

Andrews Peter Parker x male reader kryptonian, with them not being just dating yet but patrol together and know each others secret identities and Peter sees reader flirting with another guy and peters giving him the cold shoulder the rest of the day and on patrol until reader has enough 🤭

A/n: You sent this in LAST MINUTE LMFAOOOO I still got it tho -- not necessarily proofread sorry I gotta get this out! I'll check it later but right now I gotta work PFF-

Jealousy, Jealousy

tasm!Peter Parker x male!kryptonian!reader

( summary: Peters been giving you the cold shoulder since your friends Christmas party and you’ve finally had enough )

warnings?: light swearing, Peter sorta being “mean” to the reader, arguing/angry confession, reader wears a mask like Peter, reader calls Peter 'honeybee'

!-!more under the cut!-!

You could practically feel your blood boil at the tension that flooded the space between you and Peter. The air that was usually filled with light chatter and flirty remarks was left heavy and silent, almost eerily so. He hasn’t said a word to you since the start of patrols, nods and grunts are the only indication that he’s even listening to you. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said a word to you all week. It’s been radio static on his end for what feels like the longest. At first you thought he was just busy with his own life but now that he’s in front of you it’s clear that it’s more than that.

Last weekend some guys at your college threw a huge Christmas party and you’d decided to invite Peter along. The only time he ever got out was on patrols and you thought he needed a change of scenery. Maybe he would even meet a girl or guy that he liked and he’d stop complaining about being single all the time. But it seems like ever since then he’s become even more reserved, towards you at least. And you just can’t seem to wrap your head around why he’s been acting like this. He hasn’t texted or called you once since that damn party, opting for leaving you on read or flat out declining your calls. You hoped thought that things would be different in person. That you’d walk up to him and he’d just apologize for being so busy this week and you both would talk and joke like you usually do but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Your eye twitched as the air somehow grew thicker, it felt more suffocating than ever. You tried to focus on your patrols. Scan the streets and use your superheating to find signs of danger so that you could stop any potential threats. Taking a large breath, you did just that, focused on the sounds of the streets, going from block to block until you heard what sounded like conflict and gunfire. “Escaped inmates have hostages on 5th.” You turned to Peter who nodded and began swinging off. With a sigh you followed him, flying at a steady pace above him. Usually he’d say “race ya,” or make a bet over who could stop more criminals but nope, he just swung off. So you’re not imagining things, he seems to actually be mad at you for something but for what?

You don’t have time to ponder that question as you land with a thud, Peter coming in swinging from behind you. Making quick work, you check just how many threats there are with your X-ray vision before charging through the doors, though they were webbed open before you could make impact. Not expecting this, you didn’t have time to stop with just how much force you put behind your dash causing you to crash headfirst into an inmates back. Even with the small stumble you were able to recover rather quickly but even then it didn’t stop the glare that you shot at Peter. You always charge first whenever you both patrol together, is he pretending like you’re not even here? You could feel yourself grinding your teeth as you punched an inmate a little too hard, his body flying out a window of the shop. The fighting continued and you have to say that, that was the worst fight you've had with Peter. he kept being in the way, whenever you turned he was there or you'd have to dodge one of his webs as it slung seemingly randomly. He had to be distracted with something, there was no doubt now.

---

"Ok, what the hell was that?" You asked as you both landed on a nearby roof, watching the police find and detain the webbed up criminals. He didn't speak, just turned and started walking away from the edge of the roof. "Honeybee, come on, I'm not just ignoring this you were all up in my way during that fight." "Oh really? I was in your way?!" Peter shot his thoughts back at you verbally for the first time this night, and though you were glad to finally hear his voice the tone was unignorable. "Yeah! What, is your little spidey tingle broken or something? You almost crashed into me three times!" Your eyebrows furrowed behind your mask as you heard Peter scoff. "Well maybe you should watch where you're going when fighting." A laugh ripped from your throat though it was more out of disbelief than hilarity. "Don't try and turn this on me, I saw you. You let that inmate get a hit on you and everything. You've been like this all night will you just drop this silent treatment shit and tell me what's going on?!" You breathed heavily as a silence filled the air but you broke it before it could crush you. "You've barely talked to me all week, did I," You took a deep breath, suddenly finding it hard to look at Peter. "Did I do something to make you mad at me? Please just tell me and I'll apologize and fix it! But I can't fix the problem if you won't even talk to me about it." Your sentence got quieter the more you spoke and after a while Peter sighed. "What is it? Was it the Christmas party?" You saw Peters hand twitch at the mention of it, his hand balling into a fist. "Oh my god it was, well what the fuck! Was it 'cause I left you? Look dude I know it was wrong for me to kinda dip but you could've walked up to me at any time! There's no need to go this fucking far over a goddamn Christmas party!" "It wasn't the Christmas party!" Peter suddenly yelled, "or well, I guess it was I just- Ugh!" Throwing his hands up in defeat, he slid to the ground, resting his face in his hands as he sat in a crisscross position.

Walking closer to him, you sat down in front of him, poking his hands. "Can you man up and just tell me what the fuck you're mad about?" "You!" His face shop out of his hands, and though you couldn't see his eyes through his mask you could feel the eye contact. "You were there all night! Flirting with that guy like you flirt with me!" Your eyes widened and you jumped slightly at his yelling. You chuckled, your face still holding fear as you tried to find some humor in the now serious aura that surrounded you both. "W-What?" "That guy, at the party! You left me by the bathrooms and when I went to find you, you were with him. Laughing and flirting all night with your stupid arm around his stupid waist!" "Peter I-" "You called him honeybee..." His voice got quieter and you swear he sounded like he was about to cry. "What?-" "I thought I was the only one you called that but I guess not," he shrugged and turned from you. Suddenly feeling extremely guilty, you reached out towards him. You didn't mean to make him feel this way at all. "Ho-Peter.." Grabbing his hand you felt your heart throb as he ripped it out of your grasp. "No! It's too late now, doesn't matter alright? Let's just finish patrols." He stood quickly and you followed, grabbing his arm before he could swing off. "No it's not too late, Pete I'm sorry!" He shook himself out of your grasp but made no attempt to move. "I didn't mean to make you feel like this...honeybee," you grabbed his arm again and though he tensed he soon relaxed at your touch. "If I had known I-" You sighed, "I care about you Peter, probably more than I should." The nerves building from what you were confessing made you want to puke but still you pushed on, pulling up your mask so that he could see how sincere you were being. "I've liked you for a while but I was a little scared to commit," You swallowed thickly as you suddenly found it hard to form words. "I never meant to hurt you h-" "You like me?" Your eyes shot back to his at the sound of his voice and you nodded, "Yeah," you chuckled awkwardly, "I-I know it's a bit-" The feeling of lips on your own cut you off and you had to stop yourself from stumbling back at the force. "Sorry!" Peter spoke, pulling back from your face, his mask now pulled up to his nose.

You blinked, trying desperately wrap your head around what happened. "I shouldn't have-" "It's fine honeybee," You laughed, covering your face with your hand as you finally found the humor you were searching for earlier. "just- a warning next time would be better." Peter laughed with you, rubbing the nape of his neck with his hand. Even with the darkness of the night it was clear that he was blushing. "C-could we try that again?" He asked and you swallowed your giggles with a nod.

Slower this time, you both leaned in consensually, breathing deeply as your lips finally collided. Your hands found their way to Peters half covered cheek as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. All of your pent of feelings were shared in this moment as you kissed Peter deeper. You pulled away from each other, foreheads pressed together as Peter caught his breath, your kryptonian heritage making the lack of oxygen not as bad.

"I love you honeybee."

"I love you too."

----!----

( god help me I'm so stressed )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are CLOSED but you can still send in asks or message me to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[ohdorothea]

If you’d like to send in interpretations or propaganda for a specific song you can send them to my inbox! All interpretations are welcome and let’s be open and kind in response to all interpretations <3

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info and lyrics for the songs under the cut!

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!

🫶🫶🫶

A Place In This World lyrics

I don't know what I want, so don't ask me

'Cause I'm still trying to figure it out

Don't know what's down this road, I'm just walking

Trying to see through the rain coming down

Even though I'm not the only one

Who feels the way I do

I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know

I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on

Oh, I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world

Got the radio on, my old blue jeans

And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve

Feeling lucky today, got the sunshine

Could you tell me what more do I need

And tomorrow's just a mystery, oh yeah

But that's OK

I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know

I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on

Oh, I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world

Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission

But I'm ready to fly

I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know

I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on

Oh I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know

Oh I'm just a girl, trying to find a place in this world

Oh I'm just a girl

Oh I'm just a girl, oh, oh

Oh I'm just a girl

🫶🫶🫶

Mary's Song (Oh My My My) lyrics

She said, I was seven and you were nine

I looked at you like the stars that shined

In the sky, the pretty lights

And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

Growing up and falling in love and our mamas smiled

And rolled their eyes and said, "Oh my, my, my"

Take me back to the house in the backyard tree

Said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me

You never did, you never did

Take me back when our world was one block wide

I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

Just two kids, you and I

Oh my, my, my, my

Well, I was sixteen when suddenly

I wasn't that little girl you used to see

But your eyes still shined like pretty lights

And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

They never believed we'd really fall in love

And our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes

And said, "Oh my, my, my"

Take me back to the creek beds we turned up

Two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

Take me back to the time we had our very first fight

The slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight

You stayed outside 'til the morning light

Oh my, my, my, my

A few years had gone and come around

We were sitting at our favorite spot in town

And you looked at me, got down on one knee

Take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle

Our whole town came and our mamas cried

You said "I do" and I did too

Take me home where we met so many years before

We'll rock our babies on that very front porch

After all this time, you and I

I'll be eighty-seven; you'll be eighty-nine

I'll still look at you like the stars that shine

In the sky, oh my, my, my

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you with flowers (Agent Whiskey x reader)

Month: May

Word count: ~2200

Warnings: None

Notes: Agent Whiskey brings you flowers.

This prompt is horribly late!!! The June prompt will be posted tomorrow.

The rest of the Year of Creation stories

@yearofcreation2023

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

It starts with an off-hand remark.

”Ain't that a shame.”

You hear Jack's mumble through your earpiece and your eyes dart up to the computer monitor on your left to watch the feed from the security camera in the flower shop. Or what remains of it, at least.

Jack is standing next to the cash register, overlooking what can only be described as floral carnage. The explosion of multicolored petals from the shootout has only just settled and from the point of view of the camera, the dark brim of his hat makes him look like a particularly depressing daisy, in the midst of it all.

He picks up a tipped-over vase of sunflowers, half of them decapitated.

”Makes you wonder how many things will go unsaid until this shop is up and running again, don't it?” he continues, touching the stem of one of the floral victims. The gentleness of the touch is evident even on screen, and it's in stark contrast to how you'd witnessed him take out three men with guns mere minutes ago.

”What do you mean?” you ask, realizing he might actually be talking to you rather than just musing to himself. He does that a lot. Sometimes it's like he just wants to fill the silence, not really requiring your active participation in the conversations, besides the occasional hum here and there. Which is just as good, because you are usually working, trying to get him safely out of whatever hellhole he'd found himself in.

Speaking of...

There's a bit of static from the program connected to the police radio followed by a command to send units your way. Of course, in a fancy neighborhood like this, the cops would be quick to respond. Your eyes scan the map on the second monitor, watching the little police car dots change direction, inching towards the picturesque flower shop that just happened to have had the misfortune of housing a terrorist in the apartment above, and you try and estimate how long you have before the place is swarmed with blue.

”Flowers...” Jack elaborates - seemingly unaware of the enclosing law enforcement – and it reminds you that you had asked him a question. ”...are an excellent vehicle for expressing emotions, whether that be love, sorrow, regret, excitement. You deliver it with a bouquet of flowers and you get that extra oomph, wouldn't you say?”

The words make you smile softly.

”I'll take your word for it. I've never gotten flowers.” You watch the dots on the map get closer. ”You'll have company in 5 so I recommend heading out. I've-”

”You've never gotten flowers?” Jack interrupts. He sounds equal parts surprised and offended on your behalf.

”Unless you count the time in kindergarten when Ricky H threw a dandelion, complete with roots and dirt and all, in my eye, then no,” you chuckle.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, deploying a couple of previously set up traffic obstructions since your agent seemed to be in no rush to get away from the crime scene.

”And not to insinuate that you're focusing on the wrong thing...” You pause. ”Actually no, that is exactly what I'm doing. There are three dead bodies in the room with you and the police are on their way. Don't make me work overtime getting you out of jail, Whiskey, please! I need to get home to my 90-day fiancé marathon.”

”Speaking of activities that should be considered a crime,” Jack mumbles and shakes his head, but there's no real heat behind the words. The rest of your sentence must have registered too though because he reaches up to adjust his hat before sprinting up the stairs to fetch the abandoned laptops and flash drives. You have no visual of him up there, but he must have found a mirror because when he strolls back out on the street a couple of minutes later and you watch him from a nearby street camera, he looks the very definition of put-together and no one who spared him a glance would suspect this southern gentleman to be carrying priceless amounts of national secrets in the brown messenger bag slung casually over his shoulder. He tips his hat at a woman with a stroller as he moves out of the way to let her pass on the narrow sidewalk.

”Gorgeous day for a walk, ain't it?” he tells her, and you don't need to see the smile on the woman's face to know it's there. You've been the subject of Jack's charm enough times to know.

”Stop flirting with the pedestrians and get to the car, please,” you tell him as the first patrol car rounds the corner up ahead.

You hear Jack chuckle.

”Jealousy is a good luck on you, honey.”

”You can't even see me, Casanova.”

”Don't need to. All looks are good looks on you.”

”Just get to the car,” you tell him, cheeks warm and smile evident in your voice. Jack laughs.

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

Despite years of working together and being on the receiving end of Jack's flirty banter, you never quite get used to how his words immediately lodge themselves in that little part of your heart that isn't all that used to getting this kind of praise and attention. It's a little embarrassing really, but everyone is allowed to have a harmless workplace crush, right?

At least, whatever feelings you harbor for Jack are nowhere near as messy as the displays of emotions and the relationship drama that's playing out on your TV screen later that evening.

You're on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through the news app on your phone, while also keeping half an eye on the ongoing TV arguments, and you have every intention to stay on that couch until you inevitably fall asleep, probably still with your reading glasses on.

Those plans are foiled, however, by a knock on the door a few minutes later. You eye the offending rectangle as if it's doing anything but it's job of providing a separation between the outside world and your evening ritual of trash TV.

You briefly entertain the thought of ignoring the knock. If it's work-related it can wait until morning. But then there's a second knock, a little louder and more insistent, and you realize that the person on the other side is probably hearing the TV through the door, and therefore knows you're home.

Reluctantly, you put the phone down and get up from the couch, shuffling over to the door while trying to wiggle your feet back into your fuzzy slippers as you walk.

When the door swings open, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you're greeted by a big bouquet of sunflowers, haloed by the brim of a cowboy hat perched atop the head hiding behind the flowers.

”Wh-what's this?” you ask with a surprised half-laugh.

”It's me upstaging that Ricky H by a landslide,” Jack says, flashing you a grin as he lowers and holds out the flowers for you to take, which you do, a little too stunned to find the teasing retort you usually would.

”At least I hope I am...” Jack continues, in response to your silence. That serves to break you out of it.

”Yes! Sorry, yes, of course! These are beautiful, Jack! Thank you!”

Jack smiles back at you full force again, and you're grateful his eyes are locked with yours so he doesn't notice the definite tremble of your knees that the smile inspires.

”Ehum... do you want to come inside?” you ask him when you realize you're just staring like a creep.

”Desperately so! But unfortunately, I'm not yet off the clock so I need to head back to the HQ. But I'll see you tomorrow.” he tells you, to which you nod.

There are sounds of people screaming and arguing coming from the TV inside and Jack gives you a look.

”Don't let 90 times fiancés completely rot your brain until then,” he smirks. You're about to correct him on the name when he suddenly leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to your cheek. It makes you let out an embarrassing ”Oh”.

”Goodnight sweetheart.

You regain your composure enough to mumble a quick ”Night Jack” before he leaves you standing on the doorstep, holding the bouquet cradled in your arms.

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

The sunflowers are the first flowers you receive, but you quickly realize that they will be far from your last.

It's tulips next, followed by a big bunch of Camellias. Every time Jack comes back from a mission he brings you flowers. Sometimes it's whole bouquets and sometimes it's a single flower. All equally beautiful.

You've never considered yourself a flower girl but you have to admit that they do bring lovely splashes of color both to your apartment and your office and you do enjoy their presence – and the smile it brings to Jack's face every time he watches you accept them.

Caring for the flowers to make them last, however, turns out to be more of a science than you had anticipated. You find yourself googling each new addition, wanting to know not only what they are but also how to best take care of them. For example, different flowers like different water temperatures. Who knew that? Not you, until the internet informed you of it, that's for sure!

So you read up on the flowers and as you do something undefined starts taking form at the back of your mind.

It's chrysanthemums, roses, hydrangeas, and jasmine flowers. And with every single one of them, the same phrase seems to pop up, often mentioned in passing but always there.

Symbolizes love.

Symbolizes love symbolizes love symbolizes love.

Despite telling yourself not to read into it, the words etch themselves into your brain and resurface with every bouquet.

But Jack doesn't act any different than he normally does, so you force yourself to accept that it's just a coincidence.

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

The mess hall of the Statesmen headquarters is, in many aspects, not all that different from a school cafeteria, just more upscale and with a lot more people wearing suits and cowboy hats. Not quite as divided into social cliques either, even if you tend to gravitate towards the table Jack's sitting at. You just enjoy his company, that's all.

The chatter around the tables isn't all that different from when you were kids either. It's still mostly talk about assignments, relationships, or sports.

Agent Mezcal is regaling you all with a tale of the woes of finding the perfect anniversary gift.

”We've been married for 15 years. It's not that I don't know what she likes, I definitely do. It's just...everything I know she wants, I've already gotten her.”

”Can't go wrong with flowers and a trip,” his handler suggests, and Jack nods in agreement. ”Not roses though. Jane doesn't strike me as a rose kinda woman.”

”You've thought a lot about what flowers to get my wife, Ice?”

”Only when you're particularly annoying out on assignment. I think about Jane and all she has to put up with... About damn time she got some flowers!”

You chuckle along with the others as Mezcal shakes his head.

”Yeah yeah, laugh it up, you lot. But if I am gonna give my wife flowers to tell her I love her for putting up with me, Imma need some suggestions for what kind, if roses are a no-go.”

There's a beat of silence before you and Jack speak up at the exact same time.

”Gardenias,” you both suggest as one. And as soon as it registers that you weren't the only one naming that particular flower, your head whips around to look at Jack. He's looking back, the tiniest upward curve of a smile on his lips.

You hear the others laugh and continue making suggestions, but you're not actually listening, and you have no idea what flowers Mezcal eventually settles on. It's less important than the fact that both you and Jack said gardenias. That you both said gardenias when there's a big bouquet of them back home in your kitchen.

And you can't even say anything about it. Not here and not now.

Thankfully, when lunch is over, Jack decides to also head in the direction of your office.

It's dead silent between you at first. Then you both speak at the same time yet again.

”It's on purpose then?”

”You figured it out.”

Jack gives you a partially fond but disbelieving look.

”Of course, it's on purpose, sweetheart.”

”I wasn't sure. You flirt with anything that moves.” You feel the need to defend yourself.

”You see flowers on anyone else's desk?”

”...No”

”No,” Jack agrees.

He reaches out and takes your hand. It makes you want to giggle, but you suppress the urge and instead grip his hand a little tighter, just to assure yourself it's actually there. Jack smiles at you, and that is really unfair because your brain is already heading towards a disbelieving meltdown over what is currently happening.

”You want to come over tonight?” you blurt out before you lose your ability to form actual sentences.

Jack's smile widens even further.

”Abso-goddamn-lutely, sweetheart!”