#it seems like he can scarcely do anything without people jumping on it for being Not Scary Enough and while I haven't seen all of his movies

[marzipanandminutiae]

it’s very interesting to me that, based on comments in the r/CabinetofCuriosities subreddit, the only two episodes of the show based on actual Del Toro stories- Lot 36 and The Murmuring -seem to be the most controversial

the first one got some criticism for leaving too many loose ends and, in some cases, being “too woke” (ah yes famous apolitical filmmaker Guillermo Del Toro, who never includes social commentary in his work </s>)

the second for being “boring and un-scary”

and I find it curious that the most Del Toro-inspired episodes of a show that banks on Del Toro’s name to draw in viewers are the ones that have taken the most flak. and in ways I’ve heard his movies criticized, too

people seem to consistently expect things from GDT that he has never given them in the past, then get upset when they receive...well, Classic Del Toro instead

[bunnakit]

last twilight e2 thoughts feelings etc

As always, I'm just some dude on the internet. I could be way off base with some of this but I just think it's fun to think about. Night asking Mhok to make him a cup of coffee was very interesting. Mhok is not there as a general staff, cook, etc. He's there to help Day and only Day and Night is fully capable of making himself a cup of coffee. Curious if this is a hint at Night helping himself to things intended for Day, coveting things Day has, etc. It definitely didn't feel like a throw away action.

I appreciate Porjai very, very gently reprimanding Mhok for being nosy in cleaning up Day's room. It was a bit of a misstep for Mhok and he needed to know that. It's important to let us disabled people ask for help when we need it and not assume we always need help. While the state of Day's room was very likely a concern for safety reasons and general health he should have been asked at the very least if it should or could be cleaned. It's not unlike grabbing the handles of someone's wheelchair and pushing them when they didn't ask to - You don't know what Day has a system for, you don't know what paths he's memorized, or even what obstacles he may have set up for himself intentionally to guide himself to different parts of the room. While it seems difficult for Day to ask for help it is something he's going to have to get accustomed to and he will with time, jumping in and making changes without his consent robs him of more of his already so very scarce agency he's been allowed.

Aon telling Day he needs to be patient and learn to talk to sighted people is huge. I made a post last week about my favorite thing being Day's anger and this is absolutely true, however, it can be so very easy to wallow in your grief and anger if you let yourself. It's important for Day to be angry, it's important for him to be impatient, but it's also important for him to push past those things and grow. Day needs to reevaluate his interpersonal interactions, he needs to relearn how to socialize especially without social queues from body language (something we often process subconsciously and take for granted.) All Day has now to go off of is voice inflection and his own critical thinking skills. He's going to have to be patient with people, he's going to have to adjust, and he's going to have to give Mhok a genuine chance. It's easy to isolate yourself when you're disabled, far too easy, and it's so much harder and scarier to try.

In the same vein as my first comment, the fumbled eye drops scene is so important, I loved it so much. It's Day realizing his limitations, coming to terms with them, and accepting that he needs help - he can't do everything on his own and that's okay, there are people there to help him if he just asks. And Mhok just does it. He doesn't make him feel silly or stupid or feeble, he just looks for the eye drops and hands them over. It's not A Thing, it's not anything more than just helping someone. It's easy, and it should be.

The Boob Grab sure is something. I did not know Jimmy was built like that. I'll talk more about this later.

"Living alone in a small fish tank is lonely, right?"

Oh fuck me UP. Living alone in this tiny bedroom is lonely, isn't it Day?

"Goldfish have a short memory. It can't be lonely."

Perhaps the goldfish's memory is so short because no one has ever taken the time to stick around. No one was worth remembering. And maybe the goldfish wishes he remembered some things less.

The fish is dying, suffocating in it's own filth and loneliness, suffocating from a lack of consideration and care. But suddenly the goldfish goes outside, it breathes fresh air, smells the blooming jasmine, and suddenly it doesn't feel like it's suffocating anymore. Things are a little clearer - not literally but it no longer feels like it's swimming through a miasma. (The goldfish is Day, btw.)

FUCK. ME. UP. I'm eating all of this like the delicious anniversary dinner I had tonight.

So lunch. I noticed this at the beginning of the episode but it's really driven home here. Zero accommodations have been made for Day in the span of a fucking year. There's been no safety measures made, no pathways made more accessible, and even more frustrating they've reorganized the fucking kitchen. It's like they sealed Day in a tomb and are just waiting for him to die so they can move on with business as usual. I would ask 'how is Day supposed to do anything for himself' but it's very clear no one thought of that. They all thought of him as this shambling shell of a man that couldn't possibly do basic tasks like find the soy sauce for himself, they didn't consider him even as an afterthought when rearranging everything. It shows Day's fall from grace within his own family in such a brutal way and it makes me so angry with his family.

The scene with Night and his friends is a lot. Day's anxiety is so palpable and the comments made make me wonder if Day's condition has been kept under wraps as some sort of shameful secret. I would be interested to see if there was an NDA in Mhok's contract.

And then we get Mhok's anxiety and raw fear. Mhok's worst nightmares came to fruition and he knows what hopelessness, frustration, and despair can do to a person. He knows it only takes the smallest thing to push someone into the unthinkable and he can't allow that to happen again. He failed to see it last time, failed to answer a call for help. He won't ever miss that call again.

Here's where we're going to come back to the boob grab and here's where I could be WAY FUCKING OFF BASE. I know we all love it, Jimmy boobie stress ball teehee, but there's also a moment of shock on Day's face when it happens. He's alarmed and taken aback and rightfully so because what the fuck this man is half naked in his room??? Then we come to this point where Mhok has just burst into his room while Day is naked and vulnerable and he knows Mhok has seen him. His reaction might seem harsh or impulsive but here's the tragic thing - A painful, horrible amount of caretakers in the world take advantage of their charges monetarily, sexually, or otherwise. (It's something I've personally seen happen to friends and family.)It's not the rule, but it happens enough to be notable.

It would not be difficult for Day to be taken advantage of and this is only his.. third? fourth? day with Mhok who is still very much a stranger to him. Mhok was completely justified in his reaction (and realistically should have a key for Day's room for emergencies only because God forbid Day fall in the bath or something) but Day's reaction is every bit justified as well. But I don't blame Day for his reaction because he very likely was afraid and his emotions were already so heightened from the mess with his brother, and I applaud Mhok for just leaving and leaving it at that. They both needed to calm down and Mhok leaves. He respects Day's decision, his agency, etc. He walks away from a job that could change his life.

Once again The Little Prince narrates the lives of these two perfectly. No notes, perfect, beautiful, muah.

The fucking slippers. Finally, someone has taken the time to understand. It was a simple solution to a large part of Day's frustration and pain. It has given him some of his agency back, taken away some of his fear. These stupid ugly goldfish slippers have given him so much and perhaps Mhok understands far more than Day gave him credit for because finally someone is listening to him, listening without him having to beg.

And Day going to see Mhok? That's huge. He could've asked Porjai to bring Mhok or ask him to come by but no; like The Prince he approaches the untamed fox.

And Mhok's desperation to understand. Fucking hell. He's gone above and beyond just being a caretaker and the way he says 'the way people look at us.' Because it's an us now, he wants to stand right by Day's side and shoulder this journey with him, to hold his hand and tell Day 'I'm here with you, you aren't alone.' I'm gonna chew my fucking upholstery.

This is only solidified with the addition of Big Mhok. Little Day isn't alone anymore and Big Mhok might be scary and intimidating but not for Little Day, never for Little Day. And then Day uses some of his precious ten fleeting seconds to see Mhok, to put a face to this insane, caring, brusque, ridiculous man that would live his days blindfolded just to understand someone else's perspective. Because Mhok is worth seeing.

Anyway they make me fucking insane, your honor. I don't know if I'll do this for every episode (if people like it enough, sure) but this one in particular had me feeling a lot of things.

[piratemousey]

Bg3 fluff for non-ao3 people

Tav - Tiefling Bard

Tav x Gale

Bg3 act 3 spoilers

The group returned to camp. An eventful day of scouring Baldur's Gate for resources and allies. Tav traveled with Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart that day. They'd managed to investigate a series of murders around town and it all ended in a high end tailor's shop. Covered in blood, they begin removing armor and packs first thing.

Karlach bounded up with Scratch and the owlbear cub in tow. "Hey-oh! My people! Out having all the fun."

"I got you a bear," Wyll said, pulling a small toy bear with switched eyes from his armor.

Tav laughed and set a bag of jewelry and bobbles on the table where Astarion sat. With a book in hand and a glass of wine chilling in one of the glasses Gale enchanted. He was waiting for them, though he appeared disinterested, enraptured by his book.

"My gods, you're perfect!" Karlach jumped up, sure that Wyll would catch her. He swung her around easily, using his dancer's feet to offset the force.

"Astarion, I brought you some stones to appraise." Passing judgements was one of Astarion's favorite past times.

"How did it go? Traversing Baldur's Gate without me?" Astarion asked, ignoring the bag.

"We're all Baldurians," Shadowheart pointed out, pulling off her gloves.

"Well, you hardly count my dear because you don't have a memory." Astarion responded.

"I lost "some" memories, Astarion," She snapped back.

"Wyll hasn't been home in years and lets face it Gale is Gale."

"Meaning?" Gale asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Wizards are absent minded," Astarion replied.

"You cast wizard spells, you know," Gale said. "I helped you learn how to shoot beams of fire at multiple opponents."

"But at heart, I'm a rogue." Astarion replied, his hand flattened against his chest.

"And me?" Tav asked. "I suppose I'm too doe eyed over the wizard to know my way around the city i grew up?"

"No, I think you know the city, you just don't know the darker corners like I do." Astarion admitted.

"That's probably true," Tav answered. "But, we did pretty well today. Where's Lae'zel? I found a sword that's completely unbalanced, she's going to flip."

"You've come to taunt me with the ineptitude of your smith's, an interesting strategy." Lae'zel appeared from behind her tent, her hair damp from training.

"So, Tav, tell me, how many?" Astarion asked, rolling his glass over his fingers.

"What?" Tav asked, a mask of bemusement.

"How many lockpicks did you use without me?"

"Eight," Tav spat out begrudgingly.

"Eight! My gods, a good day for you then was it. Seems being a jack of all trades doesn't necessarily make one skilled at anything, does it? You do sing pretty though."

"Astarion," Karlach said his name like a warning.

"I'm just making an observation," Astarion continued. "I use two lockpicks tops most days that I adventure with you, yet you insist on leaving me here, my gifts languishing."

"You love to lounge in your tent," Tav noted.

"I was only thinking of your scarce inventory. Burn through as many lockpicks as you like, I'm not the groups treasurer." Astarion lifted the bag of jewels and begins sifting through them.

"We'll need you tomorrow certainly," Tav said. "We're going to murderize that damned steal watch then break into the newspaper."

"How fun," Astarion bobbed his head from side to side with amusement. "Maybe I'll find a horrid guard to bite. One whose had too much bree I think."

"Most guards can't afford bree," Wyll commented.

"Look my love, a scroll of knock," Gale held the parchment up for Tav to see. "I could learn it right now and cast it right away."

"That's great," Tav threw an arm around Gale's neck kissing his cheek.

"Yes thats great. I'm sure it'll help that one time a day you can use it. " Astarion's good mood evaporating as his temper is ruffled. "The very idea that a scroll could replace my talents is offensive and you should all be ashamed."

"I can use it as many times as I like." Gale said.

"You really are trying to take all my fun, wizard." Astarion's hand shot out pointing to Shadowheart. "I'm sure you learned some memory spells under your former God."

"Yes a few." Shadowheart answered, confused at what Astarion was getting at.

"Good, Lae'zel, hold the mage down. He won't be remembering much." Astarion's gaze threatening as it landed on Gale.

"Maybe we can also get rid of his detestable earing." Lae'zel stepped forward, her training sword at her side still.

"Well, I wasn't going to tear into his appearances..." Astarion said, taken aback at first.

"He wears the symbol of his former lover," Lae'zel said, he fury boiling. "Mystra, a manipulation queen who would have him end his own life. He parades her token blatantly while wooing Tav with nonsense about stars. I've been to the tears, I've smelt them as they burn across your sky. They are not baubles for your vain seductions."

"I'm right here, folks," Tav pointed out.

"Mystra is magic," Gale stuttered, growing concern in his words. "... and I wield magic. It's not uncommon to wear a charm for the goddess."

"One whom you bedded," Astarion's smirked as he rhetorically pored oil over the fire. Things were going in a different direction, but he could work with it.

"Tav hasn't complained," Gale said, his eyes resting on the bard.

"Of course not, they're the nice one, remember?" Shadowheart said, her arms crossed.

"Tav? Does it bother you?" Gale asked, his voice thin with worry.

"I'm not going to tell you how to dress." Tav said avoiding eye contact. "It's not really about the fact that you bedded her, Gale," Tav said holding up her hands. "It's about the fact that she's terrible and she used you and threw you away."

"You shouldn't waste time honoring gods who would ignore you so easily." Shadowheart chimed in.

"You know what would make this better?" Karlach asked. "Let's go kill mystra."

"Now, hold on," Gale said. "Mystra is magic. You can't kill magic."

"You know I think of the word "can't" as a challenge at times," Tav smiled teasingly.

"My work here is done," Astarion gathered his wine, book, and the bag of jewels. "I need to go rest up for tomorrow. Lots of locks waiting. Maybe a few spells if you decided to leave the extra baggage at home, Tav."

Lae'zel remained beside Tav, her arms crossed as she glared at Gale's earing as Astarion sauntered away to lounge in his tent.

[quirklove]

Please... I need some Overhaul crumbs... Do you have some to spare? Anything. Headcanons, scenarios, reactions, anything .... 💕

oh!! oh, this is an emergency

luckily, I ALWAYS make sure to carry some spare Overhaul crumbs around in my pocket!

might have took me two years to fuckin find ‘em, but I GOT ‘EM FOR YA, BABE!!!

*sprinkles the crumbs ALL OVER YOUR DASHES*

ironically, the sprinkling of crumbs is something the man would absolutely hate, so uh, whoops...................

“Take off your mask.”

The request startles you. Mostly because it seems to come out of nowhere, but also because it comes from your boss.

As in, the man who doesn’t trust anyone to be unmasked around him. The man who thinks everyone else in the entire world is filthy, is terrified of germs, and who you’ve been warned to wear a mask around ever since day one.

You don’t think you’ve had your mask off in this compound even during your initial interview. The man who invited you for the… employment opportunity… told you about the mask rule, so you just showed up wearing one when you came in.

Not only that, you don’t see much of OVERHAUL anyway. Mostly you help Irinaka-san do paperwork for finances and things like that for the records. Quiet and out of sight, you have no Quirk, so you’re not useful for much else. Besides, your employer doesn’t like disturbances, and he prefers solitude. You can count the times you’ve spoken to him on one hand.

So when he shows up almost like a ghost, and you hear that order in his voice, you jump a bit in your seat. Looking up from your typing, those gold eyes of his strike you so much that you’re almost frozen in place. The only feature of his you can see clearly… of course they have to be attractive. “I… ah… s-sir? What do you mean?”

He’s not quite leaning on your desk. In fact, he’s not that close to you. Farther away than he sounded. And you think you can see… hives? In a little cluster on one side of his forehead? He manages to still look confident and intimidating despite looking as if he’s about five seconds away from being sick with anxiety. “I… I want you to take off your mask.”

“Oh… well…” You give your document a quick save before turning your attention fully to him. He’s never made a request like that before. Not to you, certainly, and you think you’d hear the gossip of him having asked anyone else to do so. (The Hassaikai are more tight-knit than you would have thought; you’ve been welcomed fairly warmly.)

You shift a little. You want to look in his eyes… they’re mesmerizing. You could get lost in them and you’d be happy to do it. “May I… ask why? I’m sorry, I just… I-I didn’t think you wanted people to be unmasked while in the compound. The… the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

He tilts his head at you. The way you read the gesture, it’s half a gratitude for being considerate of his eccentricities, half intrigued that you didn’t simply follow the command without question. “I’m… making an exception. For you. And there’s no one else around, and I will keep my mask on, so there’s no chance of anyone infecting you with anything nor you infecting me with anything.”

While the logic is a bit lacking, you’re a bit flattered that he seems to trust you. He’s never trusted any of the other Hassaikai members like that, has he? “May I ask… why the exception?”

What makes me so different? you want to ask. What makes me ― special?

“Your… your face.” His voice is soft, like a whisper of rain. Like he’s admitting something to you that he’s scarcely admitted to himself. “I… want to see it. Fully. Unobscured.”

“O… oh. Um.” How are you supposed to respond to that, really? Your antisocial, mysophobic boss is asking you to take off your mask just because he wants to see your face? What part of that makes any kind of sense? Is he testing you or putting you through some type of weird initiation or something? “Are, um… are you sure, sir? Like I said, I… I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Mmh? I’m already uncomfortable. But I’m pushing through it for a worthy cause. I’ll… be okay.” Was that a falter in his voice just now? He still looks so certain of himself. “Just… do it. Please.”

Before I lose my nerve, you think you hear his anxious parts say.

So you give him a nod, before reaching back to undo the straps of your mask. “O… okay. I… guess if you’ll be okay.”

Your mask is one of the simpler ones, like Hojo-san’s. It’s so dissimilar to Overhaul’s ― a sort of surgical style, except made of cloth rather than paper. When you first came here, you wore the disposable paper ones, changing as often as necessary, like after eating or drinking. Then after about a week, Soramitsu (one of the few you feel close enough with to use his first name) approached you shyly, with this one in hand that he’d made for you.

Now this is the only one you wear, using it all day, washing it at night, rinse and repeat. It’s endlessly more comfortable than many of the ones you see the others wearing, your employer included. Maybe especially his. At the very least, this mask that Soramitsu made means something to you. It’s basically an unspoken acknowledgment that you belong here.

Your fingers are careful even as you remove it, like it’s some precious thing. To you, it is. Within a minute, you’ve gotten the strings untied, and you slowly inch the mask down from your face. It’s how you feel least self-conscious lowering it, because you’re afraid he might suddenly change his mind, deciding it’s too much too soon, and snap at you to put it back on immediately.

On the contrary, he appears to be watching you very intently. It’s as if the very act of watching you remove your mask has him hypnotized. Those incredible eyes of his are glued to your every move… it’s half flattering, and half makes you nervous.

After all, he wanted to see your face. What if you’re not even half as impressive as he thinks you’re going to be? For some reason, you want to be as good as he thinks. You want to sate his curiosity and impress him.

Finally, the mask is down completely, leaving your face bare. Your other skin has always let you know the compound is cold, but to have the cool air hitting your cheeks out of the blue is a bit of a shock. That’s not what makes you shiver, though.

Overhaul’s eyes are staring right at you. Wider. He’s so intense, it makes your flesh sprout goosebumps in an instant. While you can’t tell what he’s thinking, you could hazard a guess or two. That expression of wonder is the same that was in your eyes the first time you saw him; this intimidating, gorgeous man with more power than you’ll ever taste in a lifetime.

You wonder, idly, what kind of thoughts he’s having about you. Are they soft like the ones you have about him? Rough like the ones you have about him?

God. You don’t even care. As long as he keeps looking at you like that, you couldn’t ever give a damn about anything else.

And you can’t help yourself. You look straight into his eyes, your knees weak from that pure gravity in his gaze. It’s a good thing you’re not standing right now, because if you were, you’re sure you’d crumple to the floor pretty quickly.

After what feels like a long moment, he raises his hand up. Your heart thumps in your chest, flashes of the mutters about his Quirk that the Hassaikai have let slip to you flashing through your mind. “A single touch.” “Complete destruction.” “Could tear you apart.” “Would tear you apart if you give him a reason to.”

The others have told you his temper is sensitive, like a hair-trigger on a firearm. You can’t see that you’ve given him any kind of reason to hurt you, and yet… you tense up anyway, half expecting to be disassembled.

No pain ever comes, though. When you close your eyes, only a second later you feel the brush of a gloved hand on your cheek, and hear the quiet, peaceful breathing of a man overcome with awe.

“Perfect,” he murmurs. He sounds like he’s just had some theory of his own proven. Although he’s only got a single finger against your skin, that seems to be enough. He takes his time pulling away, despite the fact that you can see more hives popping up to join the first ones you spotted. “You are… lovely.”

You can feel your face color immediately, and you just feel so exposed. It’s not bad, but it’s… overwhelming. Did he do this just to confirm that he finds you attractive? That you’re so fascinating to him, he had to know what you really looked like? What would have happened if your features were different? Would he still have called you ‘perfect’ and ‘lovely’?

“Th… thank you, Overhaul… sir.” You manage to stammer it out as you hurry to put your mask back on. He won’t stay so smitten forever, you’re sure. You’re not about to ruin his image of you by not replacing your mask at the earliest possible opportunity.

He turns to leave, and if you’re not mistaken, you catch the slightest hint of blush creeping up over the edges of his own mask. You’re not certain, because what might be a blush could just as easily be the beginnings of more hives. The thought that his face might be flushed at the thought of you, just like yours has been from his compliment… it’s kind of exciting.

His imposing figure pauses at the door, and he turns just so to give you one last glance out of the corner of his eye. “… (Name). I… I don’t want you to call me that anymore.”

Almost like he can sense what you’re going to ask, he continues in a heartbeat. “Call me Chisaki-san instead. Please.”

With that, he’s gone, as if he were some ghost who wasn’t even here in the first place.

But he was.

You can still feel his touch, a single digit caressing your cheek, protected by that glove of his.

The barrier of it between your skin and his doesn’t matter.

The touch is burned into you regardless, and you don’t think there’s anything that can extinguish the way he just set you aflame.

[saga-project]

Saga was trying to keep the thoughts from his head on how this could go very badly for him when he finally tracked his future self's ping to a physical location--even more so when he looked down at his wrist gauntlet and noticed that said location just so happened to be on a roof that was reasonably far up. Knowing the thoughts that his future self had, knowing that he'd gone to Three and Theatre and Leon and who knew who else asking them to--

Swallow. Breathe. Everything was going to be alright. They had to believe that, or else they'd surely go insane. They simply shoved the door to the roof access open, striding up the stairs and arriving just as their future self spun around to try and take note of who was approaching.

"Awfully strange spot for contemplation," he began as he approached, then mentally kicked himself. He was starting off with that? Who the fuck lets you TALK to people--

"....I'm not going to off myself, if that's what you're worried about."

Wince. He had in fact been very worried about that possibility, worried about the risk of trying to jump after this alternate version of him and not having enough momentum to pull out of the dive before they both ended up as abstract art on the sidewalk.He was going to attempt to play it off, though, leaning against a nearby cooling unit semi-casually. "No, I'm not worried. Though I do hope you've given up on that particular habit."

"Nobody seems keen on obliging me with it, so. Here we are."

"Yeah. Generally, people don't like being asked to off someone who has the same face as one of their close friends. For future reference." Ah. Shit. That had sounded a lot more like a friendly rib in his head.

Oh, thank god, future him was laughing--more of a mirthless exhalation of air than an actual laugh, but nevertheless. "Starting to realize that." His gaze shifted back to the street below, then. "So why are you up here? Full offense, you're about the last person I expected to come looking for me."

Why indeed. Even when his future self had caught a nasty case of the flu and been all but bed-ridden for several days a scarce week or so ago, Saga couldn't be half-assed to do anything to help with it. There had been too many bad memories. Too much resentment. Too much misdirected self-hatred. But now....now, things had changed. Now, Saga actually wanted to get better, and had a plan for doing so.

But to do that, he'd have to extend an olive branch first. So he took a deep breath, steeled himself, and then made the plunge. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Without trying to shove a knife between my ribs this time?"

Deep inhale. "We're the same person, inside. Your usual method of being sardonic to try and scare someone away isn't going to work on yourself."

"...touché." A quiet exhale, then, as he approached to sit on the edge with his alternate self. "....I don't belong here."

"Does anybody really belong anywhere?"

"You know what I mean. I was half-expecting to be completely consumed by now. I never thought that the spell I made up just in case would work. And I've caused so much pain, and....I don't. I might not belong anywhere, now. What could possibly make up for what I did? All because I thought I was helping. I was so desperate that after promising I'd never fall under anybody else's control I just blindly gave myself up to--" A shaky, sobbing inhale. "No wonder you hate me. No wonder I--"

"I don't hate you." It was quiet, but it rang out all the same. "It was more like you were a reminder of everything that was still. Bad. In me. Or that I saw as bad. But that's not fair to you. A desperate person....can do terrible things. It doesn't mean you're destined to be bad. Neither of us are bad, really. At least I don't think so. At least....I want to live long enough to think so, now."

"....I don't know. What to do, now."

"You have time to figure it out. We both have time to figure it out. But I want us to figure it out together. I don't want to hate you. I don't want to hate myself. And I don't want you feeling the same way. So....so come with me. We can both help each other. Together."

"....I. It's not that I don't want to come with you, but I think I want to sit up here a while longer." A quiet exhale. "I forgot how....loud the city was. How everything just....moves faster here. It's. Chaotic. But. Nice."

".....you didn't come up here just for that, did you?"

An actual laugh, this time. "No. Stupidly enough, I came up here to try and see the stars. I know you can't, because of the light pollution. But....you know. Hasina promised she'd show us. I just thought...." Another shaky sob. ".....what the hell would she think of me now."

A pause. And then Saga closed the distance, taking his future self into his arms, trying to ignore the minute flinch that the motion was met with. "....well. I think you tried your best, in a bad situation, and that you lost your way....just a bit....but you found it again. Just like we did back in the Syndicate. I think she'd be proud of that."

They felt more than they saw their older self relax, leaning into the hug with a quiet sob. "....y-yeah. Yeah, she probably would be."

"....but if you want to see the stars....I can take you." The offer was out of their mouth before they even realized what they'd done, their future self glancing at them in slight alarm.

"What?" "Oh, come on. I have the wings built into my spine prosthetics, and I'm willing to bet you do too. You probably know how to use them. We can get up past the cloud cover, and--"

".....you'd do that?"

".....of course. Come on." He extended his hand to help his future self to his feet, unfurling the wing prosthetics in the same instant and watching as his un-hiveminded self did the same. Okay. Remember the flying lessons from Theatre. Breathe in, out---

--and push off, soaring up into the clouds and away from the city as his future self shakily followed. "I'm holding you to catching me if I start plummeting."

"Har har. Look."

Future him turned his gaze up, goggling at the stars overhead, all of the tiny twinkling lights that seemed so close now as both of them hovered. "....wow. I. I've never seen--"

"--okay, so you can't see as many of them as I would like, there's still light pollution up here to a certain degree, but I thought--" Now it was his turn to tense up in surprise as his future self swooped him into a hug, churring in thanks.

"....thank you. I. No one's done something this nice for me in....a while. And. I'll come with you. To. Therapy, or something. I think you're right. I think it's time that I stop blaming my--"

Glittering explosions, on the horizon. They both spun to look, watching the fireworks surge up over the city, the explosions not seeming quite as overwhelming at a distance. Saga grinned as his older self chuckled, hovering beside him. "--well. To, uh....new years and new beginnings?"

"....yeah. To new beginnings."

[kyberphilosopher]

Androphobia

Requested? No Word Count: 7014

An Android attempts to offer comfort to someone with sleeping trouble.

Androphobia [an·drow·fow·bee·uh]; Fear of or aversion to men. A related concept is misandry, the hatred of men, but not necessarily fear of them.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Every woman or female born member of society has experienced an off putting encounter with a man. 

This is not to be entirely blamed on men- not as a whole, no. But individuals, the ones you run into on your way out of the grocery store, the ones who stop you on the streets, they are the ones to blame. Some women have the guts to tell them off. Not an easy task with the given anxiety, but one to take pride in for the capability that comes with it. Some women stay quiet, rush away as fast as their polite feet can take them and hope someone will see the problem. They usually don’t. And some women are outliers, tricking their ways out of interactions with these men one way or another, and to them I take my hat off. 

There are men who are easily construed as monsters, when in the dead of night their silhouettes flash beneath the tallest of streetlights. And there is no reason to not believe them as such right then and there, for as spoken by our Lady Galadriel, “the hearts of men are easily corrupted.” And any look into statistics will back up this fear, any personal experience, any hug that’s gone on just a bit too suspiciously long, any catching of those wandering eyes and it’s easy to feel in your heart that men are not to be trusted. They are not to be confronted, nor left alone with, and they will jump at the opportunity to put down anyone for the validation of other men. 

This is the reality of women and men in 2021. It is the same for several in 2039.

 * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You step out of your old, dusty car. Chips of the dark red paint flake away as the raindrops hit it. Above you, the gloomy, warm gray clouds roll against each other in different shades and sizes, high above the skyscrapers and the stress of the world.

Gathering your belongings for the day, you shut the door with your hip and shoulder everything. Then you make your way towards the Police Department, your work, with the heels of your shoes scuffing against the parking lot. 

Across the way, you can see Detective Reid, who rubs his brow while he does his usual slamming of the car door. There’s no point in looking for Hank at this ungodly hour, he’d never be in on time. He’ll probably park his car next to yours as usual- a little too close so it’s hard to squeeze into your own and pull out without causing his vehicle damage, but you never say anything. Not because you are one of the people who feel threatened by Hank as a man- It’s more because you trust Hank as a person, that you’d never bring up the obvious annoyances he places upon you and everyone else. Though, once you had tried. 

(“Cars parked a little close, don’t you think?”

“Shut the hell up.”)

The inside of the Department is bustling. A female Android brushes past you briskly, the others at the front desk all seemingly click clacking away in their own brains. Even months after they’ve gained independence, it’s not uncommon for you to remember how they were before. How still and lifeless they were. And looking back on it, it was awfully sad. They seem busier now, more alive and fast. A strange image, in your mind, but not an unwelcomed one. 

You reach your desk in the lobby, on the right side of the room slightly separated from the officers. You’re a psychologist, so it’s not plausible for you to be seated next to bias. Instead you’re in your own corner, with a rather cluttered desk on the top and empty rows of drawers. You do, however, keep a small japanese cherry blossom tree on the top, courtesy of Hank, though his has all but fully withered at this point. 

And then you’re ready to start your day. Pull out your chair, click your pen and type away reports and notes on the computer to send to the detectives. You don’t have any meetings scheduled today, so there’ll be no need to prepare questions or anything of the sort. Just an easy day. 

And then...

As you and I, the dear reader, have already discussed, finding men to be generally scary is an easy task. And even though you are smart enough to know that it’s simply not possible to truly believe that every man or male presenting individual is terrible, or has done terrible things, or has experienced the desire to do something terrible, there are times where you can’t help the cautiousness. You can’t help the flinch, the distrust, the physical distance, the hand in your pocket grasping for anything to use in self defense. Seeing men like Detective Reid in power, brutish and given guns and easily agitated, certainly doesn’t help.

So when you swish your chair around and come to a stand, your heart drops. You’re looking into the presence of someone tall, with broad shoulders and a strong chest. A man. 

[Sort of.]

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

“Connor,” you breathe out, eyes flitting down as you attempt to quiet the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat. “I- I didn’t-”

“Your heart race has increased. You appear stressed, Doctor L/N.”

He cocks his robotic head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as the literal gears in his head turn. 

“You just startled me,” you admit, grabbing the back of your chair and moving it over as an excuse to create a bit of distance between you and the [possible] threatening force. “What is it, Connor?”

Now, for context, you and he were not considered close. You’ve spoken a few times, though never as friends, only friendly. You remember seeing him last Winter, when he would stand out in the snow outside the station, just gazing up after Hank had already returned to his own home. You remembered how he was different from the other Androids, besides being more advanced to begin with. You’d never said anything about that. It was obvious the only person it would’ve really mattered to, Hank, was already aware of this. And Hank liked Connor. There was no point in interfering. 

In Connor’s eyes, you could really do no wrong. You were smart, intelligent, and diligent in your work. Your job had been threatened by the presence of Androids for years by the time Connor had showed up, but it still appeared that they wouldn’t have done your legacy justice. But despite this, interactions were scarce. You were not friends. You were friendly. And you were always on your guard. 

“I was hoping to hear your thoughts on a case Lieutenant Anderson and I have been working on,” Connor tells you. He’s always made efforts to keep eye contact with people, and the tilt of his head tries to follow your eyeline to do so. But it’s never to any avail. “I apologize for the abruptness, but the thought only occured to me last night and I think it could be a good one.”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. “I can help with that. I’ll get the details from Hank when he comes in.”

“No need,” the Android quickly assures you. When you look up to him for a brief second, you can see his tongue sway against his bottom lip, creating the softest of imprints. His dark eyes glitter like a beatles in the catch from the light above. 

He produces a light, manilla colored folder lined inside with papers. “I hope you’ll find all the details you need here,” he explains, offering the file to you. 

You take it after a moment, watching his thumb let go in the softest, most normal way possible. 

“Thank you, Doctor L/N,” Connor smiles. “I’ll go get you your morning coffee.”

Connor is like a dog in that way. Not in an insulting way, or an obedient way. In a kind way, in a warm way. With his chocolate eyes and the dimples when he smiles, it’s hard not to want to just believe that he is incapable of hurting anyone or anything. Especially a woman. 

But when you snap back to reality, you can see his male form. His set back shoulders, the robotic strength, the fact that he was programmed to execute any task he so desires. And then you’re right back on edge, wanting to step back from him until you’re sure you can take a full breath. 

It’s easier when he’s taken himself away. You can see him through the glass walls in the kitchen, waiting for the pot to heat up. Doesn’t seem so bad from far away, like most of them do. 

You return to the chair and open the file. At first, your eyes flit to the pictures attached at the top- one of a woman that looks so familiar, another of a man whose angry brows cover his eyes. Then they move to the written report, and something clicks. 

The woman in the picture was an acquaintance from college. The man next to her was the main suspect, and apparently her lover.

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

“Morning Doc,” Hank waves tiredly. Then his tone changes slightly. “The fuck are ya doing at my desk for?” 

You push yourself from your lean on the edge of his property anxiously. “I read the report on your case. The Carla Rodriguez one.”

Hank sighs in his classic sigh, tired and grumpy from the morning and being alive. “What about it?” he questions, rummaging through his large bag of prescription pill bottles he’s brought with him every day this year. You suspect Connor has something to do with this.

“I had a... personal relationship with the victim,” you begin, crossing your arms. “I knew her.”

Hank looks at you, bewildered. “You were sleeping with my victim?”

“What? No. What? I- anyway. Carla and I were in college together.”

Hank’s face changes. He leans back with high raised brows in the way he does when processing something. 

“The boyfriend did it. I remember him from back then, I think. Real angry guy.”

“You’re sure you know what you’re talkin about?” Hank questions you, though not in an insulting way. You know it’s anything but that. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you what you need but you know I can’t testify. You won’t be able to use my bias in your report.”

“But the bias is the whole point.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, along with your shoulders. It’s the universal symbol for ‘I don’t know what to tell you’. 

“You talked to Connor about this?”

“Well, no. I- he wanted my opinion but I didn’t tell him this part.”

Hank glances around. “Where's he at anyway?”

You shrug again. You’re thinking about the disposable coffee cup on your desk, left there by Connor a few hours ago, that you’d never brought yourself to touch. 

“Run it by the Android before we do anything,” Hank advises you. “Nutjob’s got this whole system in his head.”

“Yeah,” you mutter as Hank seats himself. “That guy’s weird.”

“Tellin’ me?” Hank groans. 

And the rest of the morning you spend avoiding Connor, thinking at your desk, barely doing your job while you let yourself get lost in thought. You’re not usually like this. You’re very professional at work- you love this job. The thrill, the learning about criminals and their rehabilitation- it makes you feel so tranquil. Complete, even. 

But knowing a victim, knowing the perpetrator, still adapting to the change of Androids looking happy for once, knowing Hank pretends you’re the child he lost- it... it...

You snap your drawer shut. 

What’s wrong with you today? 

You huff out dry air. When you turn ever so slightly, you can see Hank at his desk, eyes already on you with concerned and empathetic brows. Seeing him calms you down a little, at least makes you feel more in the real moment. After a moment, you turn back straight. Then you smooth back your hair, and open a your file again. 

“Doctor L/N?”

You look up slowly, recognizing the boyish, sturdy voice of Connor. Sure enough, there he is. Tall, looking down at you with his warm, brown eyes. They remind you of an excited, loyal dog. Yeah, you think, Connor seems like a dog person. 

And then you catch the sharpness of how broad his shoulders are, how little effort it would take for him to kill you, or pin you down, or come at you in the dark. 

“Can I speak with you candidly, Doctor L/N?”

“You...may,” you say slowly. Connor begins to squat, until he is level with your eyeline, though he’s over on the other side of your desk. From your view, your cherry blossoms pink petals stand out against the paleness of his skin, and then the darkness of his hair. 

“I heard what you said earlier to the Lieutenant,” he begins. 

Truthfully, your eyes flicker around his face, mostly between his lips and his nose and his eyes. They’re all so realistic. Well, obviously that was the point in his creation, but still. They’re so human. Connor is human. Even the way he seems to move his mouth, like his lips are just a little dry, is human. Such a strange detail. Perhaps you would never have noticed it if he hadn’t gotten this close. 

“When?” you question. 

“About 3 hours ago, about the file I gave you.”

Your eyes snap away. Connor’s own eyes follow your movement. 

“I know that this must be difficult for you-”

“Connor,” you sigh, slightly exasperated, but still holding it together. Your eyes close like you can’t bear to look at anything in the present moment right now. You must be trying to pretend that you’re somewhere else. “I’ll be alright. This was in my job description.”

The Android’s eyebrows knit for a split second, confused. “Overseeing the psychology behind your friends death was in your job description?”

And it’s a genuine question from him. That’s what makes it so hard to contain your laughter, no matter how frustrated or overwhelmed you are right now.

“Yeah,” you finally muster with a light chuckle. “Apparently.” Then you’re back to business. “This is my job. I’ll be alright. Thank you for your concern.”

“I just considered that, since you’ve been on the news before, the suspect could know that you’re involved.”

“So?” you ask, slightly more snappy than intended.

“He may know you’re here and subsequently attempt to cause you harm.”

There are two conflicting sides in your brain right now. The first one says: Now think about this. How could he harm you in a place full of cops? It’s not like he knows where you live or anything. How could he even find that out? When they bring him in, he’ll be in custody the whole time. Gavin won’t let him out of those handcuffs. Everything will be just fine. 

And the other part? It shows you a dark, masculine figure, looming over you. Police department or not, he is there. He will cause you grief and harm, do something so terrible to you you could not even fully imagine it enough to anticipate yourself. 

And, despite your better judgement, and to your full awareness, you listen to the second half. 

“Okay, so,” you breathe out. “So what are you saying?”

Connor’s eyes draw to his left in a stutter, his mouth parting as if he’s in consideration. “The Lieutenant and I had talked about... having you stay in a... safer place.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. “What do you mean by that?”

Connor looks so human in this moment. it’s so apparent, and piercing in this exact second. The details in his eyes, slightest of blemishes on his cheekbones. 

Connor leans in, his eyebrows raising. Subconsciously, you lean back ever so slightly in response. 

“We were thinking of taking you to the Lieutenants place.” He sees your eyes widen, getting ready to give a vocal response. “It’s a very safe place,” Connor promises. “I can assure you there are many rooms to your liking.”

You take a minute, looking the Android right in his warm, hopeful, perfectly symmetrical eyes. “Connor, I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.”

“It’s just-”

“Back off,” you snap. It’s assertive. Something you don’t usually do towards masculine presenting beings. 

As soon as you say it, you regret it, however. The person across from you just looks so heartbroken, almost. His big brown eyes, the ones that remind you of a loyal dog, are looking right at you. How could you not feel bad for snapping at Connor? Sweet Connor, who doesn’t take pleasure in hurting people no matter how much you convince yourself he does. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

The Carla Rodriguez murder case went on for two more days. Her boyfriend, unfortunately, was not yet found. Hank was working on obtaining a warrant based on your instincts that would give him access to search family members houses for the man. Things were becoming focused. 

Each night you went home, you struggled to sleep. You did in fact, find out that Connor may have been onto something when he suggested the consideration of safety. You indeed stayed up later than usual, using both locks on your dirty apartment door for once. It was hard to fall asleep. Whenever you did, it became all too easy for you to imagine a solid, big, broad shouldered figure standing over the foot of your bed, waiting to strike. 

A man, as usual. 

Ironically, you did feel better when Hank- a man- would come into the station. And then there was Connor, who was somewhere between a puppy and a wolf, half following Hank, half fully capable of loading and discharging a gun. Connor made you feel safe too, but only by association. It felt bad to think about him after the snapping that occurred Thursday, but it could’ve made you feel worse to act unprofessionally in the work place. It was best you try to forget it, and try to forget that Connor has unlimited and invincible memory. 

On Sunday, you and Hank had your weekly scheduled lunch. Nothing fancy, just fast food from a food truck by the train tracks. You’ll both probably get burgers, except Hank will try to add lettuce and some vegan bullshit to convince you he’s sticking to his diet. Of course he will. 

You throw the keys to your locker in the backroom into your desk drawer, and slip it closed. Across the floor, Hank is already ahead of you, tugging on his crappy jacket and somehow standing patiently and grumpily at the same time. 

“Ready to go?” you ask as you approach him, your own jacket in hand. 

“Yeah, just waitin’ for the kid,” Hank replies casually. 

“The kid?”

“I’m ready to go, Lieutenant,” the enthusiastic voice of Connor rings out. He has one of those voices where you can tell when he’s happy and smiling too, and he is in this very moment. 

Nobody ever joins you and Hank. You knew Hank had taken Connor to the truck before, but that was just between them, and this was just between you. An odd decision on Hank’s part to make such a change. 

“Alright,” Hank calls back. Then he turns to you, the smallest of knowing grins on his face. “Ready when you are, Doctor.”

You just nod your head and start walking out to Hank’s car, unsure of what to do think. In the end, you decide to just not think at all. 

“What are you doing this for?” you’d ask Hank as you were walking, when the Android known as Connor was out of earshot. 

“What? You got a problem with Connor?” You shake your head no. “Well good. Because besides bein’ a freak he’s perfectly fine.”

Yep. Thanks, Hank. 

The drive over is silent, besides Hank’s music. You like his taste, but it doesn’t make you feel less tense around Connor. On the other hand, Connor is completely oblivious of said tension. You can see him in the rearview mirror, smiling and looking out the window every now and again. 

Once arriving to the scene, Connor gets out first. You click your seatbelt away, about to pull the handle open when you notice Hank hasn’t moved at all. 

“You coming?”

“Mm,” Hank fake thinks, flipping through his cd cases. “Nah.”

“Well then... well then are you even hungry?”

“I got food back at the office,” he sighs, not even looking up at you. “Indian from last night. Gonna wreak havoc on the ol’ plumbing.”

“Then what did you bring me here for?” you question finally, developing a tension headache from how often you’ve been knitting your brows together lately. 

Hank looks up and over, an almost offended expression on his face. You can see it in his wide old eyes, the angry eyebrows, the slightly opened mouth. 

“Because I’m trying to create a warm and loving social circle.”

“You one time told me die because I ate your jar of pickles!” you cry. “Oh my god- Hank, is this about me and Connor? Is that it? You want us to get along?”

“Yeah, and what if I do?” Hank turns to you fully, putting an angry hand on the steering wheel to clutch something. 

“It doesn’t matter!” you exclaim. “It literally doesn’t matter at all!”

Hank is quiet. You can see his beady, angry eyes on you, his jaw clenching. “Get the fuck outta my car,” he says at last. 

“Gladly,” you mutter. You open the door and slam it closed. 

Looking across the wet, rainy street, you can see Connor looking up at the sign of the food truck known as Chicken Feed innocently. You breathe out, feeling the heat from the previous ‘discussion’ beginning to melt away. 

Okay, Y/N, you tell yourself. Just go talk to him. 

You begin your walk across the street, hearing the light tapping of the rain hitting the asphalt all around you. His back is getting closer and closer. You still have a chance to turn around. 

“Hey, Connor,” you say lightly. 

“Hello, Doctor L/N,” Connor greets in return warmly. 

“Whatcha... thinking about eating, there?” you ask, both of you knowing damn well Androids can’t eat. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits. Then he shrugs, and very genuinely says, “I guess I could have some french fries.”

“Alright. I’ll get you some.”

And you do. And you feel so stupid while ordering it. The guy in charge, Gary, looks at you with an ‘are you sure?’ expression on his face, but you only continue with the order, confirming that, yes, you are sure. Then you and Connor sit next to each other in silence, waiting for your food to be ready. You pretend to be very interested in a stain on one of the back menus for about three straight minutes. 

“Here you go,” Gary hands you the food. You take the bags and speed off immediately to an umbrella by the place. Even though you’re essentially powerwalking at about 6 miles per hour, it doesn’t feel fast enough in the moment. Connor is right there beside you the whole time. 

“Here’s your fries,” you mutter, pushing the bowl towards him. 

“Thank you,” he says, formally. Then Connor just stares down into the bowl. 

“I appreciate you paying for this meal, Doctor L/N,” Connor decides to say after another moment. When you look up, you can see he’s leaning down ever so slightly so that he’s closer to your height, and making pretty sturdy eye contact. It’s moments like this that you think you’re talking to Connor’s social programming, and probably not him naturally. 

“You don’t have to call me Doctor, Connor,” you breathe. “We’re not at work right now.”

“I apologize. How would you like me to address you then?”

“Well... how would you like to address me?”

Connor thinks for a moment. You can tell because his led is switching between yellow and white. Then the beginning of his eyebrows start twitching, along with the corners of his mouth, just like a human would when they have several thoughts on the tip of their tongue but none of them seem just right. It’s cute when he does it. 

“You can just call me Y/N,” you rush out in an attempt to save Connor from quite possibly exploding. 

He does the twitching once more, then looks up to the top of the umbrella without moving his head. “And, is this outside of the workplace or in it as well?”

“What would you prefer?”

His led goes yellow again. He looks back to you. “That depends whether or not you consider us friends, Doctor L/N.”

This takes you back. You’re silent, stunned, looking at him with slightly widened eyes for a few seconds- maybe a whole minute- before you make the decision to look at your burger and change the subject. 

“How’s been adjusting to life as a free man?” you ask, unwrapping the foil from your warm food. 

Connor adapts to the subject change after a few seconds, and you know that he’s seen right through you. “It’s strange,” he tells you, deep in thought, but sincere. “But, people seem happy.”

“Are you happy?” you prompt further, biting a big bite into the meat. 

Connor thinks again. He thinks a lot. “Yes,” he decides. “I suppose I feel alive,” he admits. It sounds like a confession, and when he turns his head to look over to you, he sees your eyes are already on him. “Are you happy?”

“Am I happy?” you repeat in question. “I... guess I am, overall.”

“Do you enjoy working as a criminal and forensic expert?”

Now it’s your turn to think. You swallow down your bite. “Yeah, I think so. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. And now I have it, and I’m comfortable and all. So yes... And you? As a detective?” You bite into the burger again.

“Well, it is what I was created for,” Connor tells you, with an almost charismatic, joking tone. It looks like he’s smiling a little, too. Cute. “I think so. Working with Lieutenant Anderson has gotten better.”

“God, I remember when you first came in,” you roll your eyes. “Hank was all in a mood. One of the grouchiest days for him. But he likes you now.”

Connor watches you pull the burger away from your face. He’s thinking again, but also admiring your features from up close. He doesn’t usually get to do this with you. The proof is in the lack of response to the ‘would you consider us friends?’ question. 

“You know,” Connor says, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice for the millionth time. “I really admire how talented you are in your line of work.”

You feel heat in not just your cheeks, but in the rest of your face as well, as if you have a very sudden fever. You decide to keep your face down, trying to naturally make it not look like you’re using your burger as a shield. “Thank you,” you respond. 

The heat begins to subside, so you look back up to him. “I admire your...” and you can’t finish the sentence. Not because you can’t think of anything to admire. You know you had a good one in mind to say to him. But when you look up at his boyish face, with the innocent smile and the comforting eyes and the most human details in his skin, you lose your train of thought. 

It seems too late and rude to continue by the time you regain it, so you just decide to leave it and eat your burger as quickly as possible. 

“Are you done with your fries?” you ask, as Connor looks down at the untouched basket.

“Yes, thank you.”

You don’t even look into the waste of 2 dollars as you speed walk to the trash can and dump it full of everything. Then you hop across the street, Connor right behind you.

Getting back into Hank’s car makes you roll your eyes. It’s not that you’re mad with Connor anymore so much- not that you would describe the feeling as mad in the first place. You’re not even sure you’re ‘mad’ at Hank so much anymore. It’s more like you’re in the area that you previously had a yelling match in, so all that energy is still there. So stupid.

“Hey, you two,” Hank greets, though to you it sounds condescending.

“Hello,” Connor chirps back.

You just shoot Hank a glare.

“How was lunch?” The old man prompts, holding your eye contact knowingly the entire time.

“It was fine,” you tell him.

“Fine?”

“Yeah,” you practically seethe. “Just fine.”

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

You stay in your house for another two days. Sleeping has become far more difficult, though you’d never openly admit it. Hank can see it in your face. There’s dark circles under your eyes, far more noticeable than before. Your eyes are dragging themselves down, along with the rest of your body which seems to be in a constant slump. 

You’re like a zombie. You’re just carrying yourself around, mindlessly doing your tasks while you try not to nod off at work. Hank hasn’t said anything. He just watches you from afar, not knowing how to apologize because he’s never been able to pull himself into one. 

Connor hasn’t said anything either. Hank’s pet has continued his daily routines around the precinct, going where he’s told and sitting on the other side of the older man. You haven’t been observing them much lately. Been a bit too preoccupied with the threat of sleep paralysis to do anything that you find matters in a social sense. 

Carla’s case is still open. Her boyfriend is still out there, watching and waiting. Maybe for you. Maybe for some other innocent woman. You keep picturing him towering over you, his shoulders looming, strong jaw twitching with anger. Those masculine brows, defined with the intent to strike at you. Kill you, like your old friend. 

Finally, on the fourth day of little to know sleep, you fell asleep at your desk. Completely zonked out, your head slumped against the surface, squishing your cheek in the process. Connor jumped up from his seat, Hank following shortly after. But there was no threat, you were simply resting. Once the two realized this, they calmed a little. Hank opted to send Connor over to you to check you out, crossing his arms as he got ready to observe. 

The Android creeps over. Your breathing is steady. So is your heartrate. You’re not in shock or anything at all. You’re not even hurt. 

“Y/N?” he prompts lightly, now crouched to be close enough to your ear so he can whisper. His chocolate eyes glance around the precinct, looking for anyone who might have noticed you to try and save you some embarrassment. Then he glances towards the Captain in his office, and he knows he has to hurry himself so you don’t get caught and reprimanded. 

“Doctor L/N?”

No response. Connor looks back at Hank, who shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with little help. 

“Doctor L/N, you have to wake up,” he tells you, poking the back of your slumped shoulder. 

You were asleep, yes, but apparently not very deeply. You stir from your slumber, raising your head and your mousy appearance to look over at Connor with confused eyes. 

“What happened?” you strain, stretching. Connor detects a bit of drool on the corner of your lips. 

“You fell asleep at work,” Connor explains slowly. 

“I did?” you squint, obviously still out of it. 

“You have... drool on your lips.”

You wipe the left corner. “The other side,” Connor gestures lightly to his own lips. “Yes. You got it.”

“Was I out for long?” you look around, adjusting to the so very bright lights of the building. 

“No,” Connor answers in that sweet, sweet voice of his. “Maybe a minute, or two.”

“Oh,” you say, your eyes wandering around. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

That night, it rains. 

Thunder echoes, with  ripples of light from the lightning that bears across the sky like great claw hands. 

You watch the view out your window from the middle of your bed for a long time. You’re curled up in a ball on the blankets, not even under them. You’re just there, watching the sky that reflects in your eyes. 

A sudden stir in you gives you a change of heart. Something you can’t explain to the fullest extent, something not even I, the one in charge of relaying all that’s happening to you, could explain the exact feeling. It’s like the snapping of a rubber band at 2:15 in the morning. 

You can’t stay in this apartment anymore. Not even two locks are enough to protect you. Not your kitchen knives, or the gun given to you from the department for self defense. None of it seems like enough, because all of those things are used after something happens. They don’t prevent it. 

You’re in a hurry. The comfiest pajamas you own are soaked in the salty rain water and protected only by the simplest of winter coats you own. It’s nice, though not appropriate for the current weather of course. Your hair gets drenched fast. Every individual drip that falls from the tip of your nose is felt, like you’re more hyperaware than usual. 

Now you’ve arrived at a house. A one story, fairly inexpensive home with a garage and recognizable old car out front. As you approach, you can already hear the barking of a dog, see a neighbor turn their lights on briefly to observe you, and feel the shivering of your knuckles as they tap on the door sporadically.

Come on, Hank, you think.  Please protect me. Please do this for me. 

And, believe me, Hank Anderson would’ve done it had he been awake. But he hadn’t been, and so he didn’t answer the door. Instead, the door swings open, and inside you see an Android. 

A tall one, with soft facial features. He has long, dark eyelashes framing dark eyes, surrounded by dark hair. He’s clean and clear cut, very put together. It’s Connor, Hank’s pet that you’ve never been able to get the hang of knowing. And he’s as shocked as you are. 

Your drenched hair, shivering body, distant look in your eyes. Though, Connor’s unsure of how he would appear if he had to show up to anyone’s house at 2:34am. Probably unwell. Probably a little bit like you. 

“Doctor L/N,” he says, though it seems mostly to himself. His parched lips barely move, though you notice how pink they look in comparison to everything else right now. 

“Can I come in?”

Connor is still for a few seconds, obviously still processing your appearance. For what, you don’t know. Must’ve been one of the few things he’s simply unable to calculate. But then he moves himself to the side, and you carry yourself in. 

As soon as the door closes behind you, everything is so much warmer. You haven’t been to Hank’s place in months, but it still feels as homey as it did before. It’s cleaner than it was a year ago. There’s more pictures on the walls, more clutter lining the shelves. He’s starting to care about things again. That’s good. 

“What are you doing here?” you suddenly ask, turning around to face Connor. 

That’s right- what is he doing here? He and Hank couldn’t be living together, could they? Or is... or is it that Hank is pretending Connor is someone else, too?

Connor’s led goes yellow, then blue, then back to yellow. “Lieutenant Anderson has offered me a place to stay until I’m ready to go on myself,” he explains, though the way it looks at you makes it seem like Connor doesn’t want to tell you this. Like he feels the need to explain himself. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You wipe your face, smearing your leftover makeup from your eye with the rain water. It burns, but you can’t feel it over the cold. “I uh- um... I’ve been having trouble- trouble sleeping.”

Connor’s lips close, and he looks at you in understanding as you stand there, now feeling your own pressure of having to explain yourself. 

“Just like... at my place I can’t- can’t sleep. Not a lot of it.”

Connor knows he shouldn’t, but it’s right there on the very tip of his tongue. It’s so close to just spilling out, until finally it does, all at once. He’s too curious to try and stop it. “Why?”

“I just- I can’t-”

You’re looking everywhere. The floor, the wall, covering your eyes with your arm or your hand, shifting back and forth between feet, making a soggy spot on the floor from your dripping clothes. 

“Can’t sleep.”

When you look up to Connor again, you feel better. Still panicked, but like you’re not in trouble. His eyes are so soft. They’re so human, and comforting. He looks at you like he understands, and like he’s not upset. You can see why Hank would pretend he is who he is now. But there’s no one for you to pretend who Connor is. He’s just Connor. And he’s better than you. 

* ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

Connor lets you wear one of his sets of identical clothes. It’s a grey t-shirt and blue pajama pants. Your hair is still wet, but Connor doesn’t say anything. He lets you sit on the couch and watch one of Hank’s basketball recordings while he goes to make tea. 

He brings it to you and sets it down on the coffee table in front, but like days ago, you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Connor’s made himself a cup too, but doesn’t drink it. It’s deadly silent, the only light coming from the faint glow of the tv, the only sound coming from the biases of those annoying sports commentators. 

“Connor?” you whisper hoarsely, turning your body to face him. 

He looks over at you, at full attention. Such a soft boy. 

“Do you think I’m afraid of anything?”

Connor’s led goes yellow. It flickers in circles until finally he says, “What do you mean, Y/N?”

You look down at your hands. “W-when I try to sleep, I see someone,” you say, not bearing to look at anyone from that gender for a moment. “He never leaves me alone. I feel like I- like I’m seeing this thing everywhere. I can’t avoid it. It won’t leave me alone.”

“What is it?” Connor prods gently, leaning in in that innocent, but curious way he does. 

You open your mouth like you’re going to answer, but then your mouth goes dry. Instead, you just shrug your shoulders in a weak attempt of lying. 

“Um... why are you still awake?” you ask instead. 

“Androids don’t need to sleep,” Connor explains to you. “We just power down to conserve energy, but I don’t need as much as others.”

A light puff of air escapes your nose in time with the flickering of the corners of your lips. “Sounds like you’re bragging,” you tease for a second. 

Then it goes quiet.

“I don’t think you’re scared of anything,” you hear Connor’s voice say clearly. “At least, not that I’ve seen. You’re very diligent in your work.”

You take the compliment. It warms your chest for a moment, but the pit inside you is not so easily gotten rid of.

Your nails scrape against each other, breaking while you pick at one of your index fingers. “I think I have like... this fear of men. Fear of something.”

Connor’s led goes yellow.

“Androphobia, also known as the fear of male presences, affects nearly one third of the current female population.”

Connor watches you continue to pick at your nails. The memory of you standing at the door step, shivering like a kitten, drowning in the rain water stays on his mind. “Is this what you think you have, Y/N?” he asks, though this time it’s far more soft.

It sounds like he really cares.

You look up to him, your eyes glossing over from stress and the incoming wave of tears you can feel in the back of your throat.

“I can assure you, Doctor L/N, you are safe here,” Connor continues, holding eye contact as he speaks. “I won’t let any kind of harm get to you.”

The tears in your eyes seem less violent now. Like they’re disappearing already. And that’s how the story ends, in fact. With you, looking up at Connor, seated on Hank’s couch with your hair dripping around you- him promising not to hurt you. It ends on the silence that follows, right between the stare the two of you share.

  * ✭ ˚ ✧* ･ﾟ * ✭ ˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ  *

This is the first thing I’ve proof read. Also one of the longest things I’ve written somehow? It was fun. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language.

[wicked-mind]

One Rule

Summary: There’s one rule you’ve set for each other in your relationship with Bucky. Always say I love you back to each other. 

Word Count: 2.1

Warnings: Swearing

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated (: I love that shit!

*gifs not mine

There is one rule in your relationship with Bucky Barnes. 

Always say I love you back to each other no matter what.

Doesn’t matter if you both are fighting and hate each other in the moment. Doesn’t matter if one of you is having the worst day of your life. I love you made everything alright. It was a grounding phrase for both of you, letting you know you were always there for each other at any moment.

But this morning when you let out a lazy and soft ‘I love you’ half asleep to Bucky as he left your shared room, he didn’t utter it back to you with that half smile and a kiss on your forehead as he always did. He left with a small chuckle and shake of his head. Once he left the room, you sat up and narrowed your eyes at the closed door once you processed what had happened. Did he not hear you? He must’ve heard you- he has enhanced hearing so he should’ve heard you. He has never not said it back to you since the day you breathed out those three precious words to him so why this morning?

You shook your head for a moment, “It is sooo on, Barnes.” You said to the closed door.

And that is how the day of reckoning started. 

You wouldn’t call yourself a vengeful person but you were the tiniest bit petty.

You got out of bed, pulling on some black shorts and one of your many tank tops before sneaking out of the room quiet as a mouse. You stood up in the glass window looking down at Bucky train with Sam, tilting your head with a wicked grin on your face. As Bucky moved to throw punch at Sam, you flicked your hand, causing Bucky to lose his balance and face plant onto the the mat which made Sam howl with laghter. You are a telekinetic and can move people and objects with your mind. Today was going to be fun- for you at least. 

You kept yourself scarce, not wanting to be caught by Bucky this early in the day. Once he was done with training, you waited until you heard the shower turn on and him step in. You smiled and waited for a moment before, with a flick of your fingers to turn the dial for the temperature, the water in the shower turned ice cold against Bucky and you heard him let out a surprised yelp. You could hear Bucky trying to twist the warmth back on but you kept it in place on the coldest setting with your ability. After the shower shut off, you made yourself scarce again. 

Next was breakfast. Bucky loved breakfast and always ate at least six eggs, four pieces of bacon, and a stack of pancakes. You stood around the corner of the kitchen, waiting until he was distracted to use your ability to turn the heat on the stove up, quickly burning his whole breakfast as you listened to him let out all the curse words in the dictionary about his burnt breakfast.

“Shit! Fucking god dammit!” Bucky yelled as he quickly tried to remove his pans from the stove but by the time he did his pancakes were burnt, his eggs were blackened, and his bacon was too crispy.

Sam, who was sitting at the table drinking coffee and eating his own breakfast, let out another howling laughter, “Good god, Buck!” He laughed out, “You’re just having a day, aren’t you?”

Bucky shot a glare over to Sam with a grumble under his breath before trying to figure out what of his meal he could salvage.

It didn’t stop there. Oh no. You had many plans to get back at Bucky for not saying I love you back. You could tell Bucky was trying to find you, probably to rant about his mishaps of the day, but you kept yourself hidden from his eyesight and earshot. It didn’t take long for Natasha to catch on with what you were doing. She found you watching Bucky from another room as he went through files in an office, flicking your fingers so a window opened causing the strong wind to blow all his papers around the room and disorganize him.

“So, it’s you being Bucky’s bad luck charm today.” Nat said, sneaking up behind you causing you to jump, folding her arms with a smile on her face, “What did he do?”

You looked at Natasha and shrug with a smile, “He broke a rule.” You said simply and walked away with Natasha to leave Bucky to clean up the mess you had made.

The one place Bucky thought he would be safe from the bad luck antics that happened to be targeting him today was the library. He was sadly mistaken though. He had been in the library hundreds of times and knew the layout perfectly that he could just grab a book and plop himself on the couch without having to look but his bad luck followed him. He grabbed a book from the shelf, starting to read as he walked towards the chair but ran into the coffee table that seemed to not be in its normal spot and tumbled over it, running into a bookshelf causing books to fall on top of him, “Okay. What the fuck is going on?!” He yelled to himself as he started to pick up the mess he made. He hadn’t walked under any ladders, opened an umbrella inside, or had any black cats cross his path so why in the hell was he having such bad luck today?

It wasn’t until later that Bucky was starting to put pieces of the puzzle together after an interaction with Steve. They stood in the elevator together, Bucky explaining all the bad luck he seemed to be having today, when the elevator suddenly came to a stop between floors causing Bucky to let out a groan, “You’ve gotta be shitting me. See, bad luck.”

Steve looked confused at the buttons on the elevator- everything seemed to be running normal, “FRIDAY, why did the elevator stop?” He asks.

“Functions are normal. No known cause. It seems like someone has stopped the elevator.” The AI responded.

Steve looked over at Bucky, “Is it bad luck or did you piss someone off?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion, “I haven’t pissed off anybody today. Shocker, I know.” He grumbled out.

Steve folded his arms, turning his body to face Bucky with his eyebrows raised, “So you just think that slipping during sparing without any water on the floor just happened? Or that somehow the burner on the stove turned up? The locked window just happened to open when you were in the room looking through files? That the shower was stuck on cold for no reason? That the table in the library just happened to move suddenly or that the elevator stops working when all functions are normal?”

Bucky stared at Steve as if trying to read his mind before tilting his head back to look at the ceiling of the elevator as realization came across his features, “Y/N.”

Steve nodded slowly, “You did something to make her mad and she’s been using her ability all day to mess with you.”

Bucky groaned at the thought, running the events of this morning through his head to try and figure out what happened to make you upset, “I didn’t do anything though. I even let her sleep in.”

Steve sighs, “Better figure it out before she decides what other bad luck you’re going to run into today.” 

After the elevator finally started to move again, Bucky was on a mission to find you. He eventually did find you outside by the pool with Natasha. You two were laughing as you dipped your legs in the pool.

“Here comes Barnes with a sour look on his face.” Nat said softly, nudging your shoulder with hers, “I think he’s onto you.”

You smiled, hearing him approach behind you with heavy feet. Just when he was close enough to touch you, you tapped your fingers on the pavement making him lose his balance and trip right into the pool which earned a laugh from both you and Natasha. You smiled and waved your fingers to him as he surfaced from the water, shooting a glare right at you. You knew that look- You were in deep trouble with him. You quickly stood up and raced back into the facility before he could pull you into the pool with him.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Bucky as he got out of the pool, his clothes and hair dripping water onto the concrete, “Two left feet today, Barnes?” She asks with a knowing grin.

Bucky glared at her, “Shut up, Nat.” He growled out before stomping his way into the facility after you. It didn’t take him long to find you, grabbing your arm and dragging you back to your shared bedroom where he pushed you up against the wall with his wet body, pinning you in place, “Why are you fucking with me today?” He questioned, a stern look on his face with anger in his eyes.

You smiled up to him cockily, batting your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetness.” 

“Don’t ‘sweetness’ me, doll.” Bucky growls out, staring into your eyes, “Why are you in a mood with me today? Did you just wake up and decide it would be fun to mess with me?”

You tilt your head at him, “Oh no, I decided to mess with you after I woke up. I had no intention of doing anything until after you left the room with that cute little chuckle.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you, trying to figure out what he could’ve done to make you put him through an embarrassing hell today, “I haven’t done anything to make you mad that I remember.” He told you, keeping you pinned in place, “So help me out, sweetheart.”

You pouted your bottom lip out to him which made his eyes flicker to your lips with that look in his eyes that made you know he wanted to kiss it away, “You don’t remember?” You ask, “You broke our rule.”

Bucky stared at you for a minute before shaking his head with a grin and stepping away from you. He ran his hand through his wet hair as his chuckle turned into a loud laugh at your words.

You frowned at his reaction. This wasn’t funny. He broke the rule you two vowed to each other never to break. To say I love you back to each other no matter what, “It’s not funny, Bucky!” You said to him, placing your hands on your hips.

“Oh it’s not funny.” Bucky replied through his laughter still, “It’s fuckin’ hilarious!”

You crossed the room to push him for laughing at you but he caught your wrists and looks down at you with a grin and his blue eyes shining, “I’m so glad your amused with how you hurt my feelings.” You hiss out at him.

Bucky grinned down at you, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not amused that you think I hurt your feelings.” He said down to you, “I’m amused because you didn’t say I love you. You said I love waffles.”

Your jaw dropped a little bit, “No I didn’t! I said I love you!” You defended. Did you? Did you say I love you or did you say I love waffles? You were half asleep and couldn’t really remember but you were sure you said I love you.

“Yes you did, darlin’.”

“No, I didn’t, Bucky.”

Bucky shook his head at you with a dark chuckle and the same grin, moving his hands from your wrist to around your waist, “Yes. You. Did. I have super hearing. You definitely said ‘I love waffles’ which made me laugh. If you said ‘I love you’, I would’ve said it back like I promised I always would.” He told you, moving his face closer until you could feel his warm, minty breath against your face causing shivers up your spine which he immediately noticed, “I love you. Now, say it back.”

You let out a small huff in defeat. Bucky wouldn’t lie to you just save his own ass, “Fine. I’m sorry. I love you too.” You muttered out, “But I do love waffles.”

Bucky chuckles and pulls your waist closer to his, “I know, doll.” He whispers to you before kissing your forehead, down the side of your face to your nose then along your jaw before finally pressing his lips to yours. He pulled away too soon from your lips, stroking his metal fingers across your cheek with a dark look in his eyes and a matching grin, “Now I’m gonna have to figure out how to get back at you for all the embarrassment you put me through today.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops​ @stcrryslibrary​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

PART 1 🌸 PART 2

Namjoon Werewolf Au!! 

Pack Head Alpha Namjoon and mate OC!

Arranged marriage sort of?

Pack dynamics / strangers to lovers. 

Part 3

“You did not think to tell him no? To demand that you had every right to stay there?” Her mother in law looked disappointed ,  eyes trained on her as Jiah carefully pulled the blouse of the tunic down over her tummy, frowning when she realized that it didn’t do a thing for her figure.

She felt self conscious, the grey cotton of the tunic making her feel drab and lifeless. Why did she always choose clothes in colors like this? Why did none of them fit her right? Why did she never make an effort to look at least a little good. Her hair was limp, a mousy brown and while it was thick, it had no luster… Why didn’t she use one of the hundred powdered mixtures the village healer liked to give the younger women?

“Jiah, are you listening to me?” Namjoon’s mother said sharply and Jiah jumped a bit, guilty.

“I didn’t want to be a bother..”  She said nervously, not sure how to handle her mother in law. On the one hand she seemed to be understanding of her many hang ups, but she also looked impatient and upset, anytime Jiah failed to stand up for herself.

Lady Kim drew herself up to her impressive height and Jiah cowered. She’d hung around enough pack bonfires to recognize that stance and that gaze. The woman was about to give her a piece of her mind.

Sure enough, her voice thundered when she addressed her.

“If you keep viewing yourself as a bother, I’m not sure how others will begin seeing you as anything else. You’re the head alpha’s mate. Your place is by his side, helping him with the crown on his head. It’s not a choice. Your duties are not mine and I am tired of doing them for you.” She snapped.

It stung. Guilt churned and Jiah could feel the beginnings of one of her episodes. The ones that always left her shaking and breathless. Much to her surprise, Lady Kim’s gaze softened at that and the next second she was being drawn into a warm embrace.

“Good lord child, why are you so terrified? Has my family not been kind enough to take away this stark terror out of your veins?” She sighed deeply. “You must not let your fears dictate your life. I want you to live your life, pleasing the person you’re bound to .”

Jiah felt her shoulders sag. Please the person she was bound to.  Of course. Namjoon. It all came down to the alpha wolf. And how was she supposed to please him, if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her?

“Yourself.” Lady Kim’s voice, laced with amusement made her jump.

Jiah frowned, pulling back to look at the older woman in confusion.

“You’re bound only to yourself , Jiah. You need to please yourself. To do and be the person you want to be. And then everything else will fall into place.”

Jiah watched as the woman went back to the door, calling for and directing a few more workers as they finished setting up the outer courtyard of her living quarters. Still a little chilled, she grabbed a thick coat from the small cupboard by the door, draping it over herself and tying it together with the sash. She moved quickly to the door, watching her mother in law talk to the workers, looking them straight in the eye , firm and clear in her instructions.

It was fascinating.

Lady Kim’s stance fairly vibrated with power and her voice brooked no disobedience. People looked at her and listened. They saw someone who knew what she was talking about and many a time, Jiah had felt it herself, the comfort of someone reliable. Someone who wished no ill on anyone.

Namjoon’s mother had lost her husband at a young age. Namjoon had scarcely been a babe of two when it had happened and the entire pack had expected the young wolf to lose his birthright as the heir. It was unheard of for a mate to take over the head alpha’s duties but Lady Kim had risen to the occasion with an elegance that had stunned everyone. The woman had met pack leaders and settled disputes, had negotiated boundary conflicts and made elaborate plans for new buildings , all while carrying around a babe that was still fed at her breast.

What was more, she had defended her position against the men who had wanted to usurp it. Mnhyuk and Jaejoon were two of her husband’s cousins, eager to sink their fangs into the woman to mate her, just to be able to get their hands on the pack. They were terrible men , even worse wolves. Their ideas on how the pack ought to be run dripping with archaic ideals and oppression of women.

But Lady Kim had humiliated them, told the whole pack in no uncertain terms that the next pack alpha would be Kim Namjoon. Her son would be raised to rule the pack with kindness and understanding and she would make sure of it.

The tales were told with hushed tones of disbelief and admiration and Jiah had listened to them with hunger and aching. Had felt such a huge surge of affection for the matron , had wanted to hug her and tell her she had done a great job.

And standing here as her daughter in law, she realized that she would be a fool not to listen to her. Not to learn from her. Especially when it was obvious that in the entire pack, the only one who didn’t seem to hold Kim Namjoon on a pedestal, was ironically his own mother.

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

“ They’re going to challenge you again. I can feel it.” Taehyung said gruffly, dropping the bundle of scrolls on the table and Namjoon flinched, head throbbing.

“That bad?” He asked hesitantly and Taehyung nodded.

“They want you to re-negotiate that treaty about courtesans owning property. Think it would make them quit the profession… if you let them own stuff” Seokjin said quietly and Namjoon bristled.

“They are no different from any of us. They work for their pay too. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to do what they wish with money that they’ve earned?” He demanded angrily.

“You’re a good man Namjoon. A fair one. And you’re striving to build a pack that treats all it members as equals . Obviously people who thrive on abusing their power aren’t going to like that. Especially Minhyuk and Jaejoon’s pups. Those two are terrible.”

“You should accept their challenge and just rip their throats out someday.” Taehyung said firmly AND Namjoon gave him a glare.

“I’m not going to shed blood without cause, Taehyung. Don’t suggest that. Even in passing.” He said firmly and the younger beta bowed politely in apology.

“Where is Jiah?” Seokjin asked casually.

Namjoon glanced at him, brows raised.

“Since when are you so familiar with my mate, hyung?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“She used to come sit with me, when I watched over the herds on the outer pastures. Sweet little thing really. Very funny too.”

That made Namjoon pause.

“Funny?” He asked, completely confused.

“Witty. She would make these clever little riddles and jokes that would always leave me in stitches. We made a game of it. I would give her one of my funny jokes and she would give me a riddle. Is she feeling better now?”

Namjoon who was still kind of struck dumb by the idea of his cowering, reticent mate doing something as…. Normal and friendly as laughing and being witty….. could only stare at Seokjin in confusion.

“I…. Yes. She’s well. We’re expecting a pup.” He said softly.

Both Taehyung and Seokjin went still.

“What?!!! Why didn’t you say that first?!!” Taehyung exclaimed, offended.

“It’s not that important…” Namjoon waved it off, reaching for the scrolls , “ what about the treaties, then? You did tell Jungkook we aren’t changing anything right?”  

Seokjin scoffed.

“ Only you would say that these treaties are more important than your own pup.” He snapped.

Namjoon sighed a bit at that.

“I don’t mean that. I’m just saying, what she needs now is to rest and take care of herself and the baby. I’m not what she needs . I’ve arranged for her to stay in some private quarters with the other women.”

Seokjin sighed deeply. After years of being one of Namjoon’s trusted friends, he could feel his heart ache for the younger and all that he hid from the people around him. He reached out and gently placed a palm on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“ Namjoon, you don’t have to do all of this by yourself. Tae and I , we can take over duties a couple of days a week… You can relax… Maybe spend some time with your new wife….”

“She hates me.” Namjoon said softly. “ I spent a whole month trying to talk to her, all she did was tremble and shake. Even when we…” Namjoon exhaled sharply, “ Even in bed , she made me feel like I was some kind of…. Predator.”

Taehyung bit his lips, looking worried.

“You’re not… You’re not going to break the bond are you?” He asked nervously.

Namjoon sighed.

“I’m not. I may have considered it, before . But now… She’s with pup. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to either.”

“Why did you pick her?”

Namjoon stayed quiet.

“Because you wanted a wife who wouldn’t ask or demand or complain.” Taehyung said distastefully.

“That’s not… You make it sound so terrible. I’m supposed to be taking over pack duties, supposed to renegotiate every single treaty we’ve drawn in the past twenty years, not to mention get the entire pack ready for the winter…. Of course I wanted a wife who would adjust. Have you seen the omegas in our clan? The ones I could court ? They want to leave on trips… They want to visit the neighbouring packs…. They want me to arrange festivities and feasts for every damn thing…. You think I can marry someone like that??” Namjoon snapped angrily. “none of them understand a damn thing about helping me out. They’re shallow and vain. Jiah… I chose her because she didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed like she could understand what it means to be my wife. But I was wrong. I thought she understood my responsibilities and was giving me my space…. Turns out she just thinks I’m some kind of monster she needs to run and hide from.”

Seokjin reached out, patting his back soothingly.

“Namjoon I understand… It’s been hard on you, and you’ve been doing all of it by yourself. Its bound to take a toll. And that’s why I think you should take a few days off, a week. Give us all the instructions. We’ll carry it all out. You can relax.”

“That’s exactly what my uncles want. For me to slack off. They’ll summon the council and want to challenge me again. I can’t afford it. “ Namjoon shook his head.” Not until the babe is born and my position as pack alpha is solidified. I can’t let them use this against me.”

Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged looks.

“Joon-ah….”

Namjoon gave both of them a tired smile.

“I’ll be fine hyung. It’s going to be okay.”  He said reassuringly. “ The council’s meeting tomorrow right? I’ll try to go over these tonight.”

“Its already past sundown.” Taehyung said worriedly.

“Then I better ask the maids to keep enough oil for the lamp to last.”

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

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon blinked, staring at her like she was out of her mind and Jiah flinched. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. But the sight of him made something curl in the pit of her stomach. He looked exhausted. Like he had been up all night. She wondered if perhaps she ought to retreat. Go back to the private quarters he’d arranged for her.

No. No , you will not chicken out of this.

“ You have a council meeting, this evening. Could I come with you?.” She said softly, watching his face carefully. She tried to read his emotions, tried to look for traces of irritation or anger but all she found was a sort of hopeless resignment. Like he had stopped trying to fight whatever was bringing him down.

“Come with me….?? ” Namjoon stared at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.

She inhaled sharply.

“Your mother told me I could go. As your mate, I’m allowed to sit in on council meetings. She told me it’s a new provision. That you were the one who had it written in. So perhaps, you should… let me come with you.”

“My mother-“ He paused, sighing. “ You don’t have to do everything my mother asks you to.”

She blinked, the words throwing her off. The truth was, she had been the one, tailing the older woman all day, trying to see what she did and how she did it. Lady Kim had merely offered to help her do her duties. She had mentioned in passing, that for centuries , mates hadn’t been granted many rights of their own. Namjoon had spent the past couple of years making a lot of amendments to pack laws and the council hadn’t taken to kindly to all of them.

“ Of course. I just thought that, as I am your mate , perhaps I should accompany you. ” It was a miracle, the way her voice came out, steady . Not at all betraying the nervousness coursing through her veins.

“Jiah…. I’m not sure.” His voice dripped with hesitation and she flinched. Oh, well, no one could blame her for not trying.

“If you don’t want me there, that’s fine.” She said quickly.” I’ll go…”

She turned around, feeling her face burn red as she quickly descended the stairs to the courtyard.

“Jiah wait!!” His voice made her still.

She turned around swiftly.

“I didn’t mean to imply that I did not want you there. I just….Council meetings aren’t short. They tend to go on for hours. Will you be alright?” He asked gently, gaze dropping surreptitiously to her middle.  

It took her a minute to understand what he was even talking about.

“I… Oh.” She quickly pressed her palms to her stomach, confused. “ I mean… I may have to be excused a couple of times to relieve myself. I’ve been doing that way more often than usual.” She laughed.

Namjoon’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile and she flushed. Surely, her stern mate didn’t want to hear about her body functions? What was she even doing…

“But, yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting with you. Truly.” She said quickly.

Namjoon nodded.

“Well, then. You can come with me. It’s an hour before sundown… I’ll come fetch you myself.”

“Yes , alpha.” She said brightly, curtsying lightly and immediately feeling like a fool.

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

“They’re called red feathers …” The healer, a middle aged woman called Selma,  opened a small earthenware jar to show her the contents. Jiah peered into the jar, catching sight of a bundle of dried flowers and roots.

“These can help me…?” She asked dubiously and Selma gave a quiet chuckle.

“They help you sleep better and also help you relax. They’re good for you. You won’t feel this anxious if you take them regularly.” She said calmly.

“Oh… alright.” Jiah nodded, glancing carefully at her mother in law who was standing elsewhere, looking through an assortment of salves and tinctures. “ Can I…. is this safe for Namjoon?”

Lady Kim stilled, turning around to glance at her sharply and Jiah stiffened. God, her impulsive mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it. Just the whole , helps sleep better , had immediately reminded her of how tired Namjoon had looked.

“I’ve already tried to get him to drink some of it. He refuses.” Lady Kim said tiredly. “ He feels that it may affect his mental faculties”

“Auntie Selma?” A high, soft voice rang through the hut and Jiah glanced up. She went still, catching sight of Jisoo, dressed in red velvet and all of her ornate jewelry.

“Ah… Jisoo…you’re back.” Selma said cheerfully. “ How can I help you child?”

Jisoo stared at her, eyes steady and unreadable.

“I need some wild carrot seeds and ginger roots.” She said softly and Lady Kim scoffed.

“I hope the man you’re taking into your bed is not who I think it is , Jisoo.” She growled. The younger woman merely bowed.

“I’m but a courtesan, my lady. I go where I am asked to.” She said softly.

Lady Kim sighed.

“Then perhaps you should go back home. Now.” She said sharply and jisoo flushed and ugly red.

“Your son wants me to visit him for tea , this evening. I was hoping to meet my lovely lady there…but I hear you no longer stay in his hut.” Jisoo turned to her, tone dripping with acid and Jiah swallowed nervously.

“I… I’m…” She couldn’t quite talk, much less think of something to say.

“Because she is with child.” Lady Kim said sharply, a hint of triumph in her tone. “ Namjoon’s child.”

Jisoo had gone paper white, her face pale and bloodless.

“What?” She whispered.

“It’s true. She carries my son’s heir. You know what that means, Jisoo. It means they are bound, for life. I like you. I respect your courage and admire your talents. You are beautiful and you deserve a mate of your own. Do not pursue my son.” Lady Kim said firmly.

Jisoo didn’t respond for a few seconds.  

And then she bowed again .

“Like I said, my lady. I only go where I am called.” She said quietly.

She turned on her heels, stalking away and Jiah could only stare after her, heart pounding a bit at what had just happened. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much disquiet. She’d never had high hopes of fidelity from Namjoon. The entire village knew that Jisoo had been his paramour. But now that she had seen how dismissive the younger girl was of her, she felt the unaccountable urge to fight back. To stake her claim.

“You look pretty upset. Don’t let her bother you. Namjoon will not break his vows.” Lady Kim said quietly and Jiah gave her a soft smile, although her heart still raced. She remembered how pretty the girl had looked in all her brocades and velvets. She stared down at her own murky yellow dress. She couldn’t go to the council meeting, dressed worse than a courtesan. Couldn’t embarrass Namjoon like that.

“ My Lady….” She turned to her mother in law. The older woman hummed, returning to examining the shelves.

“What is it, child?”

“Can we stop at the seamstress’ hut on our way back?”

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

Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, as he knocked on his wife’s private quarters, it hadn’t been this.

He stared , or to be more accurate, gaped at his wife, completely thrown by her appearance.

She looked…. Cheerful.

That was the only word he could think of, taking in the warm yellow and green fabric of her gown, all with an abundance of ribbons and lace. She had also clearly made some effort to tame her hair.

Not a very successfully attempt, considering the dozen strands sticking out of her bun and curling over her bare neck and shoulders …..but an attempt nonetheless.

Which reminded him.

Why was her neck bare?

“I…. have you forgotten… part of your dress…?” He asked awkwardly, gaze trained on the pale, blemish less expanse of skin in front of him. Too much of it was on display he felt.

“Oh?” Jiah twirled about for a second, glancing at herself. “ Not at all, my alpha. This is how it is.”

Namjoon blinked.

“Right… the night is getting colder. Perhaps a shawl?” He suggested tactfully.

Jiah frowned, sticking a hand out of the door as though to the gauge the night air.

“Really? Feels quite warm to me.” She said thoughtfully.  

“It may be cold for the baby.” He said quickly and that made her pause. She glanced back down at her tummy and he wondered what she expected to see, every time she did that.

“Perhaps you’re right alpha….let me be back.” She floated back into the hut and he sighed in relief when she reappeared with a white fleece shawl over her shoulders.

“Shall we go ?” She asked quietly and he hesitated before slowly offering her his arm. She gripped it lightly, and they began the short walk to the main village square where the council usually convened.

“You… You’re better adjusted to this place now?” He asked carefully, trying to find the girl he had taken to his bed. The terrified, nervous , trembling young girl.

Jiah didn’t respond at once.

“I… I’ve been drinking some of Selma’s potions. They help.” She said quietly and he frowned.

“Potions? Potions for what?”

“They help with my nerves. I get scared easily…imagine things ….” She trailed off nervously.” I’m very anxious by nature and it gets worse in a new place. With new people.”

Namjoon considered that carefully. That made sense. Perhaps, that was why she had been so odd.

“The potions help?” He asked carefully and she nodded.

“Yes…that and your mother.”

“My mother?”

“She’s very kind to me.”

Namjoon laughed a bit at that. In all the years he has had people talking to him about his mother, the word ‘kind ‘ had never come up.

“ I’m being honest….she has helped me adapt to this place. To see how things are run. I… I don’t want to be a bother. I want to pull my weight. In the pack. To help in any way I can…”

Namjoon felt a sudden unaccountable fondness bloom in his chest at the innocent words.

“ That’s very virtuous of you.” He said seriously and she flushed.

They didn’t say anything else, continuing the rest of the path in companionable silence Namjoon spotted the seven council members gathered around a blazing fire and lightly stepped closer to her.

“You can stay close to me. You don’t have to answer them.  If they try to draw you into any controversial topic, just ignore them. I’ll handle it.” He said quickly.

Jiah gave him a wide eyed, nervous look but nodded quickly, fingers moving from his forearm to his palm , linking with his own and gripping tight.

“I’m here. You’re not alone.” She said quickly and it was ridiculous, how the words actually helped him relax just a little.

Taking a deep breath, he led her on to the meeting.

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

Author’s Note : i thinks its about time i accepted that this is a full blown fic and not just a drabble. fuck my life. 

Note : Red feathers are actually herbal medicines used as anti depressants. So this is just werewolf au equivalent of therapy. 

[hypnomicimagines]

20 with kuko please:D!(gn preferably)

Harai Kuko: 

You’d never seen Kuko look at you like this.

There was this burning rage behind them, completely unprompted by anything you had done. He couldn’t even give you a direct reason for the hatred spewing from his mouth, the anger he was directing at you over imagined scenarios. Kuko was an honest boyfriend, he would never start a fight just for the sake of it which left your mind reeling even more. How had you not seen this coming?

“Kuko…!” You reached out to touch his shoulder but are met with a heated glare, the monk slapping your hand away from him before you could make contact. You looked at him wide-eyed, thinking the momentary regret you see flash in his eyes as just an illusion, something you wanted to see. You held your hand to your chest as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, wishing more than anything that you could hurt him in the same way he had hurt you.

But he’d already said he didn’t care about you, about your feelings, that it was over.

There was nothing left for you to say to him.

You remember sobbing when you got home that night, hastily deleting the pictures you had of him in your phone, trying to wipe all memories you had of him. Kuko had been such a positive pillar in your life, you had grown alongside him for so long, you had thought you really knew him inside and out yet this hit you like a bullet. It happened so quick yet the pain of his words still lingered, you couldn’t help but think he wasn’t acting like his usual self. You no longer had the strength to question it though, too afraid of facing his wrath again; Kuko really was a scary person when you were on the other side of his anger.

It’s been years and yet you still think of him.

You tried to rationalize that it was just because he was your first love, of course you missed what you had with him because it had been intense. Being with him was unlike any romantic encounter you had, including the relationships you attempted to get into as a fresh-faced adult. You knew you were still young but there was the lingering fear that no one would ever make you feel the way he did, that you were missing an important detail and that blocking his number had been the wrong thing to do. But you had protected your heart in the only way you knew how, trying to look toward the future rather than back at what once was.

Kuko had been the one to give you that advice…

You were happy to be starting your new job at Amaguni Law Offices, having heard great things about your boss. You were hired as an aide to the secretary but you were hoping to directly assist with cases one day, not knowing if law was exactly the right career but wanting to see change in action. You were having a relatively good day, you found you were quite good at speaking to distressed clients and scheduling their appointments was a breeze once you understood how the computer system worked. The secretary seemed relieved to have you with her as she said work tended to be fast-paced and overwhelming with just her, it left you feeling good, like you had a real purpose.

Everything was good until you had to see his face again.

You’re hidden behind the computer and don’t look up at first until you hear the sounds of footsteps walking past you, having been expressly told to not let anyone interrupt the meeting your boss was having. You jumped as quick as you could, you had been making a good impression all day and you weren’t about to let some teenage punks ruin that for you. You reached out for the shorter one, hurriedly asking him if he had an appointment before you’re stopped in your tracks.

When Kuko’s eyes met yours it felt like the world had stopped, the same way it had when he had stomped on your heart. Your mouth went dry and the expression on his face was completely unreadable but you had at least gotten him to stop walking. The taller of the two, a boy you didn’t know as it certainly wasn’t Ichiro, looked at the two of you with confused eyes. Your heart was beating rapidly and it felt like no air was reaching your lungs, you knew you couldn’t stay in the same room as him much longer. Maybe if you had been prepared to see him you could’ve taken this but this was the most unwanted surprise you could ever have on the first day of work.

Hitoya walked out of his office to see why there were people lingering at his door, eyebrow raised when he sees the staring contest occurring between you and Kuko. He hadn’t looked away from you yet, it seemed he was still processing like you were but you bet he didn’t hurt like you did. He was the one who left you in the dust, after all.

“I have to go.” Your eyes flickered to Hitoya’s briefly before you made yourself scarce, gathering your belongings and leaving the law office as quickly as you could. You kept your head ducked down as you walked through the bustling city streets, hoping to get lost in the crowd, to just blend in among the people and disappear completely. You would have to give Hitoya a proper apology later and accept that potential firing at suddenly walking out on your job, but you couldn’t stay there a second longer.

Why did he have to look at you like that?

You’re exhausted and out of breath when you’re finally home, heading straight to your room without a second thought. Your head is spinning, heart still pounding, anxiety flaring up as you think about how you’ll have to grovel to Hitoya in hopes of keeping your job. But did you really want that if there was a chance of seeing Kuko again? You had avoided this problem for so long that when it came rearing it’s ugly head you were at a total loss of what to do, the pain unfortunately fresh.

‘He looked good,’ You thought miserably, ‘His hair looks better not slicked back. I bet he’s still causing problems for his dad… I wonder if he matured anymore.’

You wished you didn’t still have this odd fondness for Kuko, the lingering feelings of love. You couldn’t just hate him despite what he had said to you because there was still a part of your brain that felt total disbelief at the turn in behavior he showed. He had always been respectful, a teasing brat for sure but he knew what was too far and what your boundaries were. Your Kuko would never…

You couldn’t think about him like that anymore.

He wasn’t your Kuko.

He was just Kuko.

Your phone began to ring and you were reluctant to pick it up, but seeing as it was your boss calling…

“…Could you come back? I think we should all talk.” Hitoya paused to allow you a chance to process his request, “I’d like for you to continue working here with me, you show promise and you’re quick but I won’t put you in an uncomfortable situation. I can recommend you to other lawyers in the area who have openings.”

“Okay.” Your voice is soft, so quiet he almost didn’t hear you, but he lets out a relieved sigh. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

You feel just as awkward as you did when Kuko first walked into the office but with Hitoya and their other friend here, it felt considerably less awkward. It’s not to say you didn’t still feel like curling up into a ball but your former boyfriend wasn’t exactly being his normal loud self, something that left you both unsettled yet entirely grateful. You don’t know if you could take the usual Kuko energy right now but it seemed like your personal shields were getting ready to leave the room to give you both a chance to talk it out.

“If you have a question then ask it.” Kuko’s gaze was steady as he looked you square in the eye, something that pissed you off just as much as the fact that he was the one to start this conversation. You had thought of countless things you wanted to say to him over the years, that you hated him too, that you didn’t deserve to be talked to or yelled at like he had, that you deserved an explanation, that you missed him.

“Why did you break up with me?” There’s hesitation in your voice, as if your brain didn’t think about the consequences of learning the answer to this question before you had posed it.

“I…don’t know.” Kuko still seemed calm but you could hear the hints of frustration in his voice, “I wanted to come see you. To talk about what happened but I couldn’t… I didn’t have an explanation for what happened. Everything I said to you…”

“You said you didn’t have feelings for me! You said you hated me and my face and that you never wanted to see me again!”

“I know what I said, damn it!” Kuko sighed, crossing his arms. “All I can tell you is that I didn’t mean it. I did in the moment but after… Whenever I think about it, it’s just a blur. I didn’t want to bother you if I couldn’t come up with a proper explanation for my actions but I don’t think there is one.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know it doesn’t! I didn’t want to bother you without being able to offer a proper apology which would require knowing why the hell I did what I did!”

“So why are you apologizing now?”

“…Because I saw you again. At any moment life can present you a crossroads, a chance to lead you closer to your personal truth or further away from it.”

“I’m glad you still talk in tongues but I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then, and I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’ve never forgotten what I’ve said to you, I could see how much it hurt you and I wanted to stop but there was this feeling inside of me… this burning rage that wanted to be taken out on anyone close. You’re not the only person I lost that day.”  

He seemed sadder now, vision clouded by past regrets, but the look is quickly wiped from his face replaced by a more confident smirk. It was the old Kuko you knew and loved, the troublemaker who had a good heart even if he was a bit brash. You could see that he truly had grown over the years, likely having much more room to do so but as a monk there was always growth to be had. To truly help people he would have to experience as many things as he could, truly understand people, so you could see how what happened to him was especially annoying from his perspective.

“I don’t. I don’t forgive you but I’m really tired of being so mad at you. I know all about you and the rap thing and Mr. Amaguni being part of your team so I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”

Kuko didn’t want that, he didn’t want you to stay out of his way but he knew he had no right to request anything else. He simply nodded his head in agreement, wishing he was the type of man who could speak up for what he wants rather than watching the person he loved walk away from him once more.

[jj-babebank]

Room 107 // chapter II // JJ Maybank (smut)

The story picks up where season 2 leaves us.

TW: Contains mentions of drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, sex and violence.

CHAPTER ONE can be found here.

Chapter 2 - La Realidad

The lobby was surprisingly big and it matched the interior of the diner to a T. Everything was rustic and cheesy-looking, mimicking what Americans imagined people in Spain’s houses to look like. The black and white tiles from the diner went on into the foyer, covered in plants. The ceiling was very high and you could see the roof from the middle of the lobby. Four sets of sofas and tables were spread around, but all of them were vacant, much like the ones in the diner.

Samara was leaning against one of the many columns supporting the arches on which the upper parts of the walls were resting, waiting for the group. JJ smiled at her but she didn’t smile back, only turned around and motioned for them to follow her up a wide set of stairs. “Seeing as we’re almost fully booked tonight, you’ll be staying on the first floor,” she said, stopping at the first floor’s landing where a hallway of doors revealed itself, “With me.” The sound of that excited JJ a little too much for his liking. “Fully booked?” John B mumbled under his breath, “Yeah right,” he scoffed. “Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly, friend of JJ,” Samara said, obviously having heard him regardless of the fact that she was a good few feet ahead of them, “There is more than meets the eye down here in La Guardiana.” She stopped in front of a door, placing a key inside the keyhole, “Room 103,” she said, opening the door to reveal a scarcely furnished small room with hideous red wallpaper on the walls and a double bed situated between two Spanish windows, “Obviously only two can sleep here, so who’s it gonna be?” Sarah volunteered first, “Me and John B can have it,” she said, quickly adding, “If that’s okay with you, of course…” “Alright,” Samara said, turning the lights on in what JJ guessed was the bathroom, “This is your bathroom, there’s shampoo and soap in there, I’m guessing you’ll need it, enjoy.” She said, leading the others out of the room and down to the next one, 105. She unlocked the door, revealing an almost identical room to the previous one with the only difference being in the wallpaper colour - it was blue. Kiara and Cleo agreed to share this room, which left JJ with Pope. “And room 107,” said Samara, unlocking the second to last door down the hallway, “It’s right next to mine, how lucky,” she said sarcastically, handing Pope the keys. He ran into the room, laying on the bed with a look of pure bliss on his face. JJ turned to Samara, “Hey, uh, thank you so much again, I-“ “Meet me in the lobby at midnight.” She interrupted him, turning on her heel to walk away, “Don’t be late.” JJ’s pants suddenly felt awfully tight with excitement as he nodded, “Okay!” He said enthusiastically, “But… What time is it now?”

~~~~~~

The good thing about 100 degree temperature was that everything dried quickly. Whether it was hair or clothes or underwear - it dried up in no time. This was exactly why after taking what felt like the best showers of their lives, JJ and Pope washed their clothes and let them air dry on the window sills. Both boys were currently laying in bed in their towels, staring at the ceiling with only the sound of the big wall clock ticking away in the background. “She wants to meet up, you know?” JJ suddenly broke the silence. Pope snickered next to him, “You know what, JJ? I’ve gotta give it to you, man. Even smelly and dirty, you still manage to get the girl. How do you even do it?” JJ smiled proudly, “What can I say? I guess I’m just irresistible.” Pope laughed at his friend’s words. “So what time are you going to her room?” He asked. “Oh, she wants to meet me in the lobby. Probably wants to have a couple of drinks to, uh, you know, break the ice. Little does she know that JJ Maybank is more than just a pretty face and a man of few words,” JJ said cockily, “Come here, baby, I can recite you the whole dictionary” he wiggled his eyebrows. Pope was laughing hysterically at his friend’s cockiness, “What would we ever do without you, man?” “I’ll tell you one thing you wouldn’t have done without me,” he said, sitting up at gesturing towards their surroundings, “Sleep in a bed, at a hotel, for free,” Pope nodded, “Dude, I still can’t believe this is happening, this girl’s practically saving our asses,” “Yeah and you just wait ’til I get a hold of hers,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows once again. Pope scoffed, “What time are you meeting?” “Midnight,” JJ responded, looking at the clock. It was currently 8pm. The sun was still out and oddly enough, the street was beginning to sound a bit more lively. JJ and Pope peaked through one of the windows to have a look at what was happening outside. Sure enough, as the sun began to set, the streets of La Guardiana began to fill up.

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

One positive about being a castaway - ending up in a cool new spot where a hot girl was practically giving herself to JJ.

One negative thing about being a castaway - having nothing to wear to impress said hot girl.

JJ was known to be an attractive guy and he knew it. Pulling girls never posed an issue for him back in the Outer Banks, yet here he was, standing in front of the long rectangular mirror in the hallway of his and Pope’s shared room, sighing at his reflection. He tried combing his sandy blonde hair back with his fingers, failing miserably as the soft strands just wouldn’t cooperate and stay in one spot. He looked down at his clothes, the same set of clothes he’d been wearing since that day, and rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in annoyance. “At least they’re clean…” he sighed to himself, tugging at his top. Pope was sitting on their bed, smirking at JJ’s reflection through the mirror, “Is it just me or do I sense nervousness?” JJ turned around to face him, his face expression both sad and annoyed, “This is all I’ve got, it’s not like I can do anything about it.” Pope shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, look at it this way - if she offered to help all of us after having a five minute conversation with you, then she must like you a lot.” Pope’s words made JJ’s lips curl into a small smile. Maybe he was right, why else would Samara willingly offer to house not only him, but his friends too, in her family’s hotel, for free? She must have liked him, right? Right?

The blonde boy sighed as he turned to look at the clock. In 10 minutes he would have to make his way downstairs to the pretty lady who asked him to meet her there, and to say he was excited would be an understatement. He took a seat next to Pope on the bed, keeping him company in watching some baseball game currently playing on their little TV, engulfing the room in light. JJ was tapping his foot on the ground nervously, checking the clock every few seconds, not focusing on the TV programme at all. Time seemed to be passing dreadfully slow all of a sudden. The street in front of their window was now full of people chattering and laughing, there was music playing from several different spots, one melody overlapping with the rest and smells of all kinds were filling the boys’ room, the one of marijuana particularly tickling JJ’s fancy as all he could think about was how much just one, not more, drag would help him ease his nerves before his much anticipated date. Was it even a date? He was so nervous at this point that he decided to just head downstairs without wasting any more time.

The short walk down to the lobby was filling JJ’s already nervous brain with even more nerves. What was he even nervous about? He was never like this around girls. Although, he had to admit he hadn’t really flirted with anyone in a while now, even before the day of the incident. He was so engulfed in mourning his best friend and Sarah, whom he believed to be dead, that he had completely neglected his own needs and fantasies, sex being the one he had pushed to the side the most. The past few months were hard for JJ, what with everything going on in his life - from John B to his dad, to the gold, and now the cross; almost being tossed in jail on more than one occasion, getting into numerous fights, hiding on numerous occasion and not to mention all that running that him and his friends somehow always had to partake in, being chased by anyone and everyone wherever they went. JJ had been so busy doing all of this, he had forgotten how to be a teenaged boy, how to fix his hair, how to talk to girls - hell, he was sure that if Samara took him up to her room, he’d have to have at least three of those whiskeys he drank earlier, just to know where to touch her - that’s how much he had neglected his sex life.

Making his way down to the lobby, he saw her. She was sitting on one of the couches, not yet aware of his presence there, a glass of wine resting in her delicate hands and another one sitting on the table in front of her, presumably for JJ. Her silky chocolate hair cascaded down her tanned shoulders, covering her voluptuous breasts, making JJ gulp. She was wearing an off white dress that seemed to hug her in all the right places and the contrast between her dark hair, bronze tan and the light coloured material made her appear even more alluring to the young boy, if that was even possible. Samara was truly a sight to behold and JJ couldn’t believe his luck quite yet. Somehow all of this seemed too good to be true. People never usually just gave stuff away, it wasn’t in their nature. Being from the cut, JJ was used to only receiving things that he was expected to work for. Good things never came cheap, and the girl sitting before him who had put a roof over his and his friends’ heads for the foreseeable few days, definitely didn’t look like the type who just gave things away. JJ was simply hoping that the wine she had prepared for him would be enough to soothe his nerves before what he imagined would be a night of hot, raunchy sex. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make her whimper beneath him and he was so set on that, that he had turned it into the only logical thing that she could ask for in return for the massive favour she was doing for him. It only made sense, right? She knew he had nothing - what else could he possibly offer her?

“Hello, JJ,” Samara spoke when she finally saw the boy approaching her. He sat down on the sofa next to her and picked up the glass of wine that was waiting for him on the table. “I heard about a certain gold you have,” she simply said, her plump lips twisting into a smirk and her black eyes boring into JJ’s blue ones, “How about I help you get it back and in turn,” she reached for his knee, “- you share some of it with me.”

Uh-oh.

[totiredtowrite]

"Ｔｈｅ Ｈｏｒｓｅ Ｗｒａｎｇｌｅｒ"

Warnings - I dont know how old west doctors offices are designed

Note: k the dni is smaller BUT STILL LOOK AT IT

FEM READERS DO NOT INTERACT (SHE/HER, SHE/THEY)

/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

The horse wrangler.

The most wild, spontaneous, and determined man most will probably ever meet. You'd almost have to be, training wild horses. Anyone with a weak will would quit almost immediately, but Bokuto? Never. There hasn't been one horse he couldn't train to an extent, and he takes pride in the fact that he's the best there is.

Only a few people could handle his terrifyingly overwhelming presence, those two being the bank teller, and surprisingly, the school teacher.

Sadly, though, he simply couldn't fall for someone who matched his energy. No, he had to catch feelings for the most elusive, introverted, and scarce man in the town.

You.

"It isn't my fault!" He would say. He'd try his hardest to convince Akaashi, who was unimpressed on every level, that he wasn't that far gone. He only wanted to know your name and where you lived and your entire family history and every little thing about you and-

"Right," Akaashi always looked unimpressed at his explanation. After all, there isn't really any way he could explain that away. It was evident from how Bokuto spoke about you. Hell, it was easy to tell that he was thinking about you, even. His eyes would glaze over in adoration, hand propping his head up while his heart practically melted out of his ears. If that made any sense.

"Akaashi," Bokuto asked, accentuating his name as always, "Where d'ya think he works?"

Keiji didn't even need to ask to know what he was talking about. "Doctors office."

Without even looking, he could feel Bokuto jump excitedly. "Really?'

Akaashi only hummed in response.

Without waiting another second, Bokuto leaped up to run out of the schoolhouse, (where he honestly shouldn't have been anyways), to get to the doctors office. About halfway there though, he paused. What would he even use as an excuse? He was healthy in pretty much everything. No wounds aside from a few bruises, no health issues, nothing.

He pushed his bottom lip out in confusion, walking the rest of the way. To anyone passing by, it was obvious that he was trying his hardest to think. Sadly though, his logical thinking skills only really seemed to apply themselves when he was working.

He turned a couple heads on the streets, people stopping to greet him or waving to him with a smile. Being a popular and sociable man, he greeted them back. All the more reason as to why his little crush on you was bound to not work out.

Approaching the door to the doctors office, Bokuto nervously fidgeted with his hands. The plan was simple! Just go in and ask you out! He's never had a problem doing things like this in the past, so what was the point in thinking about it right? The absolute worst thing that could happen is you saying no.

Gathering up a breath, he threw open the doors to the office.

All that really garnered for him was an odd look from an older woman in the corner, a linen cloth to her lips. Upon not seeing anyone else in the room, he causally made his way over to her. "Excuse me," he said, catching her attention. "Do you know where...uh..." he paused. Bokuto now realized that he didn't actually know your name. "Where the guy is?" He settled on.

The woman raised her brow. "The guy?" She repeated, voice hoarse and confused.

Bokuto nodded feverishly. "You know, about this tall," he stood to hold his hand at your height, "(h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes that make you feel like you're drowning," he sighed dreamily.

She just gave him a knowing look. "The door in the back. Y'can just walk right in." She was waiting on her medication anyways, which the apothecary was already working on. It's not like keeping Bokuto in the dark would help her or hurt her.

"Thank you!" He said a little too loudly, turning and bounding off to the door. He was cautious to open this one with less force, standing there for a couple seconds in the doorway until you noticed him.

You looked startled for a second. Bokuto, on the other hand, was now burning that expression into his memory to cherish it for as long as he lives. "Hello," you started softly, "Is there something you need today?" You narrowed you eyes as you spoke. This...buff, energetic looking man didn't seem to have anything wrong with him. You shook it off. "The apothecary is currently busy, if you needed medication." You explained, "Would you like to have a seat?"

Bokuto shook his head. "I'm actually, uh, here for you!" He was bouncing on his heels.

You made a face. "Here for...me?"

He nodded, leaning forward to out his hands on the desk in front of you. "For you," He repeated.

"Ah," you said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. This isn't the first time somebodies come into the office looking for you. Honestly it happened more than you'd like to admit, despite your efforts to remain scarce. "Well that's very flattering, but I-"

"Please!" He interrupted quickly. "Just lemme take you on one date! You can decide everything else!"

You paused. He looked...genuine. You honestly couldn't put your finger on it, having dealt with many people who only wanted to be with you for the appearance. Bokuto, though, looked like he wanted something a little deeper than that. Maybe you were just being hopeful, stupidly so, but the look in his eye didn't seem veiled in anything.

You could see his nerves, his flushed cheeks.

"Fine," you said after a moment, locking eyes with him. "But I don't promise anything after one date."

"You won't regret it!" He said, energy coursing through him again.

As he ran out the door though, he remembered one crucial thing.

He didn't ask your name.

~

Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.

[kittydemon9000]

SO MERLOPIAN KAI PART 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

So, with Kalmaar, he ofc immediately goes to his parents about his feeling, slightly placing his revenge on hold. They are...dubious about it, but Maya raises the point of how there has never been a human/merlopian hybrid before, and from what Ray has told them about having two EM parents it’s possible for Kai to have some water abilities himself, which could be what gave Kalmaar his feeling. So, they agree to look into it.

Moving on..... Uh. Kai doesn’t have a fun time in S6, as briefly as he’s there. You see, Nahdakahn knows exactly what buttons to press and is able to get Kai into a panicked state where he, on the verge of a panic attack and mental breakdown, just says “I wish that I could just be normal! I wish I could just go home! I wish I could be with dad and mom and father and Kal and Bentho and Nya!!!”

The “normal” comment comes from how they weren’t able to completely hide Kai’s heritage since yeah, there were other people on the boat who saw him. That and he also tried a lot less to keep it hidden. And because some humans are assholes, he has to deal with that.

So ofc, Nahdakahn interprets it in the worst ways and as two wishes. Kai is now a full human yes….but was also sent to where the fish fam currently were……which just so happened to be at the bottom of the ocean.

So yeah, double trauma for both groups. Kai got to experience what drowning felt like, and his fam was essentially forced to watch him die since there was nothing they could do. They were too far under to take him to the surface and too far from the palace to take him there.

But dw, it gets even worse.

You see, the whole reason Nahdakahn is being this malicious about Kai’s wishes is because he learned that Kai was the reason the Preeminent was destroyed, thereby destroying Djinjago.

Nahdakahn is then able to do a “oh? Is this not what you wanted? I thought you wished to be normal.” Which ofc sounds really bad since it’s in front of his family. “But, I understand. You grow tired of the stares in the street, how they whisper behind you back about what you are. Not human, not merlopian, not normal. Just a freak masquerading as one of them.”

This ofc supremely pisses off the fam. Like, weapons drawn ready to commit murder.

But then Nahdakahn stop them with a “ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. After all, I am the only way your son has a chance at living. So go ahead. Make a wish.”

Trimaar ends up being the one to do it, and is smart enough to know this uh will twist it in anyway he can so says. “I wish for Kai to be sent safely to the surface without harm done upon him.”

Blah blah blah, your wish is yours to keep, Trimaar realizing “wait there’s a lot that could be interpreted” but too late BAM now Kai’s kinda stuck on the Misfortune’s Keep.

And he....generally has a pretty bad time. Think Jay but this time it’s personal.

However, Kai’s appearance had Trimaar get the Merlopian army and start heading to the surface. The remaining ninja have a brief moment of “are you kidding me two enemies at once” before learning that this is Kai’s lost family and they’re here to help.

So now the ninja have a whole ass fish army to help them, plus a very protective, very angry fish family.

But for the rest of canon, the only difference is that when they’re leaving Tiger Widow Island, Nya gets snatched along with Jay(who was taken because he hadn’t used his wish yet) and they aren’t stuck on the island, and then later that Kai gets sucked into the sword when the ninja launch their rescue mission.

But yeah, it gets all Un-Happened by Jay’s wish(which at seeing Kai physically hurt and being emotionally torn apart at his baby sister dying, wished that none of this ever happened and that Nahdakahn was never found), only like canon Nya and Jay still remember what happens.

Nya is now firmly on team Kai Is Alive and tells her parents everything about what happened and the wish Jay made, and more importantly where Kai is.

Unfortunately, they need to take some time and prepare. Trimaar and Maya have been doing their best over the years to open the populace possibly making bonds with the humans, but now it’s finally happening. They can’t just go up there out of no where, since from what Nya has told them 1) most humans don’t even know they exist and 2) in the past few years they have been subject of many attacks, mostly from non-humans, so they need to make sure the humans understand they don’t mean any harm.

So DotD happens, then the beginnings of S7 :)

Right out, Kai never liked the museum curator. Up to that point he’d only ever caught fleeting glimpse of him but something about him Kai just despised. As a result, he also visited the museum as scarcely as possible, and thus didn’t notice a very interesting painting containing a two very strange figures.

When he learns his name was Dr.Saunders.....things don’t go well.

It happened when Kai brought the helmet with his dad’s symbol on it. As much as he disliked the curator, he was the most likely to be able to recognize what kind of helmet it was.

Then in his anger he gets himself captured.

He’s taken to a special cell lined with vengestone and has guards around the clock, and Krux takes extra care to make sure Kai doesn’t know where Ray is.

ofc it’s around this time that the Merlopians arrive and express their wishes for a possible alliance between their two races. Unfortunately they showed up at literally the worst time, and double unfortunately the people in charge of diplomacy decide to bring some of the ninja in as an extra precaution because of the villains have been running around.

So the people who join the meeting are Lloyd and Jay from the ninja(they would’ve brought Kai but he hasn’t returned from his missions yet and isn’t answering their calls) as well as some police officers and from the Merlopians is the whole royal family plus a few guards.

Both Jay and Nya have a silent moment of staring at each other since “I know and I’m not sure you know but I think you know but I don’t want to say anything since you might not”

And just as they’re about to start, The Time Twins attack. Because why the hell not.

They’re actually able to hold them off for a while, but unfortunately there are too many Vermillion. Then Kalmaar whips out his Water Powers which causes him to get kidnapped since they need both Fire and Water masters for the blade.

While they’re recovering, Lloyd then gets a panicked call from Zane saying that he checked the museum footage and Kai has been captured. The gets overheard by the royal family, and then Lloyd asks why they looked so upset at which they learn(sans Jay since wish) that Kai is royalty. The eldest son actually, and thus first in line for the throne, as well as being presumed dead for the past five years.

So basically Krux has kidnapped the King and Queen’s husband, the crown prince, and the second in line prince(if anyone knows a more fancy term for this please let me know)

Maya, Trimaar, Nya and Benthomaar are not happy. Not with the Ninjagian people, no they’re fine, but they’re bout ready to murder Krux, and they don’t even know about Ray yet.

So they offer any help they can.

Zap back to how Kai and Kalmaar are doing.

Kalmaar is….kind feral tbh. Like, he’s biting, clawing, trying to strangle them with his tentacles, and before they got vengestone cuffs on him was trying very hard to drown anyone.

Ofc, this does little to the Vermillion and soon Kalmaar finds himself in the cell right next to Kai’s. He’s overjoyed to see his brother again, albeit upset that this is why.

They both reluctantly come to the conclusion that there isn’t much they can do at the moment, and there are many Vermillion guards right outside their cells, so they decide to start catching up.

And for pretty much the rest of the season canon is pretty much the same, just shuffle around the characters a bit and add a protective Fish Fam. 

Though their little trip back in time is quite sight for the Past EMs, especially because of how Kalmaar is using his powers, which leaves Kai mostly stuck in his Fish Form. This time they don’t even bother trying to explain, just give instructions on how to defeat the Vermillion and jumping into the battle. 

And I mean just imagine that from the EMs perspective. An enemy you thought you defeated just returned with a giant metal creature and an army of snake things that don’t look like any kind of Serpentine they’d ever seen. Then a shark person and squid person??? show up and not only do they know how to fight the snake things but they also seem to be Elemental Masters???? Despite the fact Ray is very much alive and they didn’t even know there was a Water EM. Then the two not only summon dragons but they also fuse their dragons into an even bigger one with two heads.

And then all of them disappear into the sky without a trace.

W i l d

But yeah, after that it calms down quite a bit. Kai spends the time skip before S8 reconnecting with his family and his dad, and through some tech courtesy of Borg they're able to bring Ray with them :D

And Kai actually goes to meet the Jade Royal Family since y’know. He’s the crown prince. He’s kinda important and legitimately forgot about it. Luckily Kalmaar is able to help coach Kai through it, but is also a bit smug about how he finally has something to teach to his older brother. Kai was actually the one who suggested asking the ninja for help protecting the mask.....but we know how that inevitably ends.

Bentho, Kal and Nya were actually on the ship for this particular adventure, and then Nya and Bentho were dragged along when they got sent to the First Realm. Bentho, despite being the youngest sibling and to the surprise of literally everyone, was actually really good with kids and spent the most time with Little Wu, right behind Cole.

But yeah S9......Nya and Bentho have a really bad time in the First Realm beause of the heat, but at least they don’t get captured. Kai on the other hand....

Yeah at some point he gets accidentally splashed with water and well.....it definitely doesn’t help with the Oni accusations. The Dragon Hunters decide to burn him along with the Wind Dragon, which moves up their Build Our Own Dragon time table.

After they escape Faith is actually pretty chill about the whole fish thing, but she does ask a lot of questions. 

And then S10..... kinda the same. They end up dropping off as many people as they can with the Merlopians since the smoke can’t reach them.

I might make a Part 3 for the rest of the seasons, but yeah. this is where we’re at.

[villainousshakespeare]

Bobby’s Playdate Part 2

Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Chapter 2 of4

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren

I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!

The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.

Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.

That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.

Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”

She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.

“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

And then Tom Hiddleston –  The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.

Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.

She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.

Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.

As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.

When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.

***

Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.

Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.

“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.

“You found the place alright?”

“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”

“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”

“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”

“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”

He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.

“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”

“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.

As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.

“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.

“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.

“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”

It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.

His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.

“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”

“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.

“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.

“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.

“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”

“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.

“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”

While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.

“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.

They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.

“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”

Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.

They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.

The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.

“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”

“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”

“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.

He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.

Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.

“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.

“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.

“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”

Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.

“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”

With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.

“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.

“You… you know?” he stammered.

“Know what?”

“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.

“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”

“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.

“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.

“Since when?” he choked out.

“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“So I took my cue from you.”

“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”

“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”

“You saw Betrayal?”

“Twice. Stunning work.”

He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”

“Tom, really, are you okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”

Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Graduation Beach Party   |  Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Request: So in this plot the Midtown Seniors Graduates (a.k.a Peter, Male!Reader, Ned, MJ, Betty, Flash, Teachers maybe, etc.) are having a Graduation Beach party to Huwaii organized by the Midtown school. It's kinda like the movie Spiderman: Far From Home, but different. I think I saw a post about Peter being insecure about his weird rip body but reader find it hot. So basically Peter is to scared/shy to show off his body with his shorts swim suit when he's going to swim with people around, even more scared/shy when his crush reader is going to see him like this. I mean, everyone will be shocked to see Peter that has a rip body even reader but found it attractive. @coledrawsstuff​

Words: 3301

A/N: I wasn’t sure how graduation parties went, so this is my take on it 😉

Peter dreaded this day would come. In more than one way. He wished he'd protested to the idea of going to Hawaii. Hawaii wasn't bad. Not in the slightest. But the plans that were going around scared him in the simplest ways. And the moment he feared most was just around the corner. Laying flat out on his bed, eyes plastered to the ceiling, thoughts far beyond the room. Within a few hours, the final party would be taking place right outside the hotel. From his room, he could hear staff preparing. Bringing out the barbeque, drinks, and all that was needed.

"Dude." Ned said while pulling Peter's fingers from his lips. "Don't bite your fingernails."

"Sorry… I' m-..." Shaking his head, followed by a long sigh, Peter raised himself onto the edge of the bed. Catching the last few rays of sunshine over the balcony as the sun began to set on the horizon. "I don't know. I'm not much of a party guy. Maybe I-"

"No, Peter!" Ned said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Don't you think about it! This is the greatest day of our lives. I mean, look at this place. Look at those beautiful dancers out there." He said while staring down onto the beach, watching the scarcely dressed staff girls carrying torches and flower necklaces. "Go...Go… change…" Ned mumbled, trying to reach for Peter behind him, while being completely captivated by the girls. "-and get ready for the party."

 "Do you think…"

 "Sorry!" He exclaimed. "See you in a bit, Peter." Ned darted for the door past all the luggage on the floor. "That cute girl just winked at me. I'm so going to ask her to dance with me."

Peter listened to the door close softly into the lock as his mind wandered away. Peter found himself lost in his own thoughts again. Worrying about things no other kid of his age ever thought about. Every since becoming Spider-Man, his body had changed. At that age, everyone does. But Peter changed more than average. He grew stronger, and gained an additional mass of muscles. All he could think about was how he could explain it. Yet, he couldn't. His excuses always revolved around this internship and playtime with Ned and you. He'd never even set foot in a gym. Let alone exercise. Flash was bound so something. And he always timed such remarks in front of the group.

Peter felt incredibly insecure about all of it. The way he looked. The way he felt. He couldn't explain anything. And that made it worse with not being able to respond well to Flash's taunts and annoying quips. Even thinking about going on that photo shirtless made him cringe.

"Peter?" He whipped around, feeling caught as he heard you knocking on the door. "Ned said you were here."

"I ehm… yes...." Rubbing the crook of his neck. Panic hitting him as he sat there. Running over to open the door to you. Peter felt his heart skip more than one beat. Seeing you standing there. No shirt, just swimming shorts and slippers. Peter had a crush on you for a long time and found himself struggling. Day in, day out. Finding the last few months even harder than it already was.

"You ok?" You asked, following Peter into the room. "You seem... on edge?"

"Did Ned say anything?!" He quipped as he turned around. "Did he?"

"No-no, you're just sweating all over." Pointing to the glistening on his forehead. "Let's jump into the sea before the picture. Still have plenty time."

"I forgot my swimming shorts." He said. "I... c-can't..."

"Oh, well I got a spare one."

"W-W...What? You bring a s-spare?" He stuttered, cheeks turning red as he began to feel the nerves in his system go in overdrive.

"Yeah, I'll get 'em. I'll be right back."

Peter had just dug his own grave even deeper now. He was trembling all over at the thought of wearing his crush swimming shorts. Hastily walking back and forth, hands in his hair. This time he couldn't think of a lie or a bad excuse.

"Here, it may be a little bit too big. But if you tie up the strings, you'll be fine." Peter sat at the edge of his bed, looking at the colorful shorts, sighing deeply.

"(Y/N)..." He said in a low voice. "I'm not… I… I don't feel comfortable about it."

"Don't worry." You chuckled. "I washed it before packing."

"That's not it." He jumped to his feet, walking back and forth with a hand combing through his curls. "I… d-" Shaking his head without finishing his sentence.

"What's wrong…?"

"I don't want this photo to happen. I don't want any of it!" He yelled out angrily in a waterfall of words. "I hate it! The whole thing. And-"

"Peter!" With both hands, you grab his shoulders. "Calm down! What's going on? Did something happen?" His big puppy eyes stared in yours for a moment before rolling his head down.

"I… can't say." Pulling himself free from your grasp. "You-… Y-You wouldn't understand." Plopping himself on the edge of the bed.

"If you don't say it, I certainly won't." You crouch onto your knees, hoping to level yourself with him, catch a glimpse of his eyes. "Please let me, Peter. We'll keep it between us, if you like."

Peter felt the butterflies buzzing in his stomach. How he loved you. Sitting in front of you. Everything he ever wanted, so close. He wanted to tell, but not risk it. Yet, and the end of all this, there was a good chance they wouldn't see each other again. The thought of it alone brought him to the verge of tears. For so many years, Peter had found a friend in you; and more. The things he had in common, the laughter, the jokes, the science. Even the simplest things. Through the years, he had grown fond of you. And in his eyes, the biggest mistake of all, a growing passion for you. To such an extent, he didn't want to sleep in the same room in the hotel. Be near you for too long.

"I need you to be honest (Y/N)." He looked up at you, the red circling his eyes. "Promise me."

"Peter… I…" Your heart skipped a beat seeing his eyes watering like that. "Of course. I will. I promise." You said resolutely. "Always."

"I-I… I... don't feel comfortable... going without... a shirt on." He mumbled. Even as he said the words, he felt embarrassed. "It's… It's... difficult to understand. And everyone's out there. And… And… y-you a-are..." Peter buried his face into his hands, overcome by shame and worries.

With Peter, you always had to choose your words carefully. He wasn't quick to anger, but he is smart. And to convince Peter to do something, you either had to have a well-thought-through plan. Or trick him. You couldn't win an argument with him. "What is bothering you? Is it a scar?"

"N-No… It's different..." He sighed. Hunching together more and more. You sat in silence, wondering what troubled him. "I shouldn't look like this (Y/N)! Not on my age." He suddenly veered up from the bed. Aggravated and annoyed by his thoughts. "See!?" Lifting the hem of his shirt, revealing abs. You were taken by surprise how well built Peter was for his age. The abs were nicely sculpted and well developed. "Everyone's going to talk about it (Y/N)!" His eyes welled with tears, on the verge of spilling across his cheeks. "I… I can't do it."

You raise yourself back up again and approach Peter. Standing there, sobbing on his own. "Listen to me, Peter." Placing his forehead against your chest, you let your fingers rake through his brown curls. "Hey…" You whisper softly, trying to get his attention. But even in this situation, Peter tried to avoid your gaze. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you gently lift his head upwards. Up close, Peter was really something. Your heart fluttered, as you couldn't help but smile. Not because of his misery. But he looked so cute. Even now. "Peter, listen…" You said softly. His big eyes finally connecting with yours. They were puppy-like. So precious and impossible to not feel his emotions spilling over to you. With the pads of both thumbs, you gently wipe away the tears from his eyes. "Look at me." Finally, able to catch his full attention. "You do... look good, Peter." You said. "You always have."

"Y-You only say that because… I… wanted to h-"

"No-No-No…" You cut him short. "I said that… because I mean it. Now, go change into these shorts. And then let's have a look." Handing him several flower necklaces in various colors and lengths. You pull them back before Peter grabs them. "But only if you want to."

"I don't see the point…" Shaking his head, disappointed. "B-But…Give me a minute." He said, disappearing into the bathroom. The time Peter spent in the bathroom was enough to feel flustered by his image. If the last months weren't already challenging enough. The point where you couldn't stop thinking about was already crossed. Peter looked so good… Both outside, and inside. And that thought kept repeating in your mind over and over again. You had to tell him.

"(Y/N)" Peter calls again. Waking you from your thoughts. Hearing the door unlock. "Can you come look?"

With a mission in mind, you lift yourself from the bed. Feeling the nerves in your legs. You were shaking. And quite heavily so. You take a few deep breaths before you walk into the bathroom and see Peter standing in front of the mirror. Peter's gaze was elsewhere but looking at himself via the mirror. Too shy or scared to do so. Peter looked nervous, and you too felt like it. The moment you stepped in, there wasn't a glimpse shared between the two of you. So you slowly approach, and take a stand behind him.

With a slight shudder in your breathing, you try to focus. Keeping your eyes on the necklaces, with good intention. Peter had simply thrown every size and shape on. But you couldn't help but stare, if only stealing a few glances in-between. His pecs and abs. His shoulders. He looked stunning. His hand grabbed yours, out of the blue, when you tried to remove a necklace. A moment of tension that forced eye contact. It's that glance you give to each other, knowing how close you finally were. You could feel him shaking through and through. Hands warm and sweaty. "Wait." He spurted, slowly letting your hand slip from his fingers, and leaned towards the door, turning the little knob. "First, what do you think?"

"Ehm… Well, locking the door might not-"

"You said you would be honest." He turned around, watching you with big eyes. "Please (Y/N)..."

Your heart pounded in your chest. Blood boiling, but in the right way. It's there you realized you had never seen him without a shirt longer than maybe half a second. In the changing rooms, he'd always take the corner. Change within a heartbeat and disappear. "L-Let's remove some of these…" Removing the necklaces one by one. It felt tense. The way you incidentally brushed your hands against his skin.

Peter looked fantastic. Again those broad shoulders. His chest was big. So well rounded. So full. And that sixpack. Your throat was going dry the more you looked. "You… eh…" A shuddered breath left you, as you wanted to think of something to say. But you couldn't. Captivated by his eyes. That innocence. That sweetness. All the things you were going to say, washed away by his cuteness.

"(Y/N)... ?" Peter asked, feeling his blood pounding between his ears. He was as nervous as ever before. Being this close to his friend. His crush. He could hear his irregular breathing. See the blush on his cheeks. And most importantly, Peter sensed it. Your heartbeat. It began to race the moment they had the discussion earlier. Peter could feel his rapid heartbeat when he laid his head to rest on your chest. But now, it was the only thing he could focus on, as it went crazy. Crazy for him. He knew.

"H-How do… do y-you feel?" You asked with a slight unintentional tremble in your voice. "That's... the most important."

"Say it, (Y/N)" Taking a step closer. "Just be honest with me." His eyes looked red, almost as if on the verge of tears. But it wasn't without a smile, a growing one. "P-Please..."

"I don't know… how to say it… Peter." You mumble, holding both his shoulders and averting your gaze for a moment. Swallowing the lump in your throat. This could be it. After all this time. "But… if this... might be the only last chance… like this… the two of us… then-"

"Who says that?" Peter cut you off. "We still have the ceremonies and-..."

"And then we part-…" Your voice broke as you said the words. The thoughts alone had wrecked you for months. And the nerves had taken their toll. "-we part ways, Peter." Feeling the tears shimmer in your eyes. The fear showed in Peter's eyes. He knew what you were talking about. And he clearly felt the same. "I… I don't want that." You whispered to him. "I… don't…"

"A-Are y-y-you sa-.. s-saying that…"

"I've always liked you, Peter." The heat rushed through your systems. Felt weak in the knees, as you instinctively pulled Peter closer to you. Inches away from his lips. "More than anything. And today hasn't changed a thing. If only… it made it worse. Peter… y-you… make me-"

"I've had a crush on you for so long…" He outright confessed. "-t-t-that I can't think straight when you're around (Y/N)."

"I want you… to know… that… that… I love you, Peter." You stammered. "I love you." Breathing heavily, staring into his puppy eyes. With your trembling hands, you lift a necklace from his chest, and over his head, taking the last step in his direction. Peter pinned between the sink and you. Your noses almost bumping into each other, as you both showed a growing smile. It's a silent exchange of glances. But you both knew what needed to happen. You lean into him, gently landing your lips on Peter's. They're so soft and warm. Inviting to a degree, you've never felt. Your heart fluttered. And for that brief moment, in that kiss, the world fell away around you. Holding his body, leaning into you, meeting Peter's loving eyes up close.

"Peter…" You kissed him again. "You are absolutely beautiful." He was so flustered to a point Peter couldn't say anything. Only staring into your eyes. "With and without clothes." Returning the kiss to you before cradling his head in the crook of your neck. "Inside and outside." Kissing his hair. "Don't you forget that."

"Thank you (Y/N)." He quietly whispered, peppering small kisses to the skin of your neck. His arms holding you in his embrace. It's intimate at first, as the barrier finally had fallen. But as you stand there, together, it felt more than that. Reassuring and calming. Swaying in each other's arms, peppering small kisses onto each other. "I'm so happy…" He said, looking at you with red lines eyes. Rubbing the first tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "I… I… love you (Y/N)." He smiled broadly. "I w-wanted to tell you... B-But… I never knew how to." Hugging himself tightly against you.

"Nor did I, Peter." You admitted. "It kept me awake for so long. The thought of leaving-…" Shaking the thoughts from your head, you tighten your arms around Peter. "Not anymore."

"I love you so much (Y/N)." He smiled. "C-Can… I… kiss you… again?" He stuttered but held back for a moment. "Oh, man... I'm still shaking all over." Looking at his trembling hands. "You make me so nervous… I… I…"

"Please, Peter…" You silenced his lips with your finger. "Kiss me until the nerves go away. And then… keep going." Peter's eyes sparkled as he cupped your cheeks. Taking your lips on his again. This time with confidence and power.

 - - -

 "And… that's how it happened." Peter beamed from ear to ear. Waiting for May's reaction as she held the picture in her hands. It showed the group picture on the beach in Hawaii. With the sun going down in the background, and everyone dressed in the right style. In the corner, top left, back row, stood Peter, together with you. Both their arms around each other. And as the photographer looked for the right moment, Peter had focused his spidey-senses. And leaned in. Kissing you on the cheek, just at the right moment, immortalizing the day forever. Peter had never felt so proud as in that moment.

"Peter! I'm so happy for you." May said. "I love it. It's perfect." And even before Peter realized halfway continuing his story about how funny and loving you are, she had driven her scissors deep into it.

"May!" Peter called, jumping up and over the couch, scaring her in the process. "What're you doing?!"

"Calm down, sweetie." She said with complete calm in her voice, patting Peter on his cheek. And continued to cut further into the picture. "I'm getting rid... of all these people… I don't care about. See?" With great care, she cut a frame around you and Peter.

"But… But… you love these pictures?"

"I do. And this is the best one." She reassured him. "I need these two close to me." Holding the small squared picture of Peter and (Y/N). "You two are the cutest." She smiled, pulling Peter in for a hug. Followed by a kiss on top of his hair. "I love it."

"You haven't met him yet…" Peter said as if she was overestimating you. "He could be-" As he was disturbed by a notification on his phone.

"No, Peter." May continued while he read your message. "He's cute. I can see it. You did good." Ruffling through his hair. "I haven't seen you this happy before." She chuckled as she tried to get Peter's attention again.

Peter felt amazing. He couldn't keep his eyes away from the picture. It held so many good memories for him. Thinking about you made him glow and seeing you in the picture even more. He felt the butterflies stirring his insides again. A blush warming his cheeks. Peter was absolutely crazy about you. "Yeah… He's great." He smiled, biting his lower lip. "But May... he wants to meet up. What do I do?"

"What do you want?"

"Well, I… I... want to be with him, of course… and…" Peter said with a slightly shaken voice. The smile on his face growing as he thought about you. "-and… you know…"

"Of course you want to." May said with a smile, knowing exactly what her little boy meant. "Now, Petey, send him a message back. Let him come over tonight." Pulling Peter's eyes up from the phone as she pulled the boy's face up by his chin.

"But how-?" Peter panicked slightly. "How do I look? How should I look? What if-"

"First Peter." May interrupted, trying to stop him from rambling. "First, you're going tell me all about him." Peter's eyes sparkled as he thought about you. And how you could spend the night together. He wanted nothing more. But how he should approach it, that was another thing. He never dated before. And in a way, he felt like it was a date. May led Peter back to the couch. "Then we're going to come up with something special for tonight. Just for the two of you."

[beyondthetower]

are you looking for wholesome glenn and felix ideas? if not feel free to ignore but:

they find a cat and felix decides that he must have it. glenn helps him to win its trust

Welp. I wasn't. (The idea was already there I was just having trouble finishing/editing) But then this happened and now I have to post it.

Warning: I barely re-read this and did no editing but I had to feel accomplished in some way so here ya go!

Fraldarius was thawing. Spring had crawled over the thick, frozen forest, and brought with it the hazy afternoons that Glenn always loved. He could train outside again - breathing in the pine scented air with hints of the lilacs mother grew in the garden. Flowers were poking through the soil and it was a wonder it ever became warm enough for anything to grow.

“Glenn! Glenn!”

Glenn turned right as his younger brother crested the hill, his determination pushing him faster than his little feet could carry him.

“Whoa, calm down Fe,” he chuckled. On cue, Felix stumbled into his legs, reaching his hands out for support as he righted himself. “What’s the rush?”

“You gotta come see!” Felix cried, pointedly ignoring the question. Grabbing hold of Glenn’s hand tightly, Felix dug his heels into the dirt and pulled down with his full weight - a tactic he used whenever he was feeling particularly impatient.

“Slow down, baby brother.”

Felix’s face scrunched at the phrase. There was nothing that got under his skin more than being referred to as a baby. So, of course, Glenn did it at every opportunity.

“Come on,” he whined. “You have to see it.”

Relenting, the two weaved their way through the well manicured gardens. The staff had gone in for lunch, leaving behind rakes and shovels and clumps of untossed weeds. Felix looked around carefully, constantly on the look out for a danger Glenn couldn’t even fathom, then got on his hands and knees. He crawled toward a particular corner of the stone wall beside a peculiar looking topiary. Glenn stood behind him, only squatting down to his level with his brother gave him a fierce look and motioned aggressively for him to get closer.

“Look,” Felix whispered once they were at the same level.

There was a gentleness about Felix that Glenn always loved. In a family of warriors and fighters, Felix took after their mother with a natural empathy that reared its head at the simplest of moments. So when he pushed aside the laurel, and beamed at the kitten cowering against the wall, Glenn’s heart flickered with the same pride that he constantly carried.

“Well, look at that,” Glenn breathed. He scooted closer, careful not to spook the little guy.

It was rare that a stray cat would make its way from the outlying town to the grounds of the Fraldarius estate. Once, when Glenn was really little, a mama cat had given birth to kittens in the stables. Glenn and his mother took them into town once they were big enough and found homes for them before the autumn frost set in. But this kitten was, as far as he could tell, without a mother. And without their own mother around to show them how to care for him, Glenn wondered what they would do with it.

Felix reached closer, and when the kitten let out a hiss his face deflated. “He doesn’t like me,” Felix said. “I just want to help him, because he looks so sad, but he doesn’t want me to.”

“Well sometimes you can’t force those things, Fe,” Glenn tried. “When people are scared, sometimes they lash out. It’s the same for animals.”

Felix frowned. “But I want to help,” he repeated.

Glenn grasped at the memory of his mother, hoping that something had stuck and he could figure out exactly what they needed. “Tell you what,” he grinned. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and sneak out a saucer of milk for the little guy? I’ll stay here and make sure he’s okay.”

Felix perked up. “You think he’ll like that?”

“I think he’ll love it. Then maybe we can win his trust and get him inside before the cold sets in tonight.”

With a newfound excitement, and clearly forgetting his original strategy of quiet stealth, Felix jumped to his feet. He ran toward the large, wooden door between the gardens and the kitchen and disappeared behind them.

Glenn glanced back down at the kitten. The dark lines around his eyes made them look even larger and more scared. “Alright, buddy,” he said quietly. “When my brother comes back out here, I’m gonna need you to warm up to him. He might seem a little prickly, but he’s the sweetest kid you’ll ever meet. And he’ll cry a lot if you don’t like him. He’s sensitive like that.”

The cat wasn’t hissing anymore, only blinking curiously at Glenn.

“Got it!”

With intense focus and his tongue sticking out a little, Felix made his way back to the garden with milk spilling over the sides of the saucer. By the time he knelt down beside Glenn, he was wearing more of it than the kitten had the opportunity to drink.

“Good job, Fe.”

Glenn pushed the saucer toward the kitten, who pulled away. But his nose began sniffing at the air, and Felix gasped in excitement as he made moves toward the milk.

“He’s doing it!” Felix’s whisper was more of a hissing shout. The cat pulled away, and his face fell again. “No!”

“Shh, it’s okay, Fe. Now we just wait, okay? We sit here with the milk next to us and we talk. Then we wait for him to come to us.”

Felix sat back against the wall, pouting. “

“Patience, baby brother.”

His face pinched again.

“We just need to be patient.”

By the time the little cat finished his milk, Felix’s head was resting on Glenn’s lap. His breath had deepened, and when Glenn looked down from the sky he smiled at his brother. The kitten, milk still dripping from his chin, took tentative steps toward them. He sniffed at Felix’s fingers, which were draped over the grass as he slept. Scarcely willing to breathe, Glenn watched as the kitten kneaded at the ground around them before snuggling into his shirt.

“Fe,” Glenn whispered. He stroked his brother’s hair gently until he stirred. “Look.”

But his brother didn’t stir. Instead, Glenn sighed, and lifted Felix into his arms, careful to pick the kitten up once he was settled on his hip. The cat mewed in protest, but was too tired to fidget for too long. So when he made it to Felix’s room, he laid him down carefully, and let the cat settle back into his spot by Felix’s chest.

[wafflesandkruge]

have your way with me until you go (zoyalai)

Nikolai and Zoya's morning routines are like clockwork. She wakes him with a drop of stimulant. He makes a witty quip. Neither of them acknowledge what's between them.

So when Zoya shows up late, it's reasonable to assume that nothing else will go as planned.

@grishaverseonline mission 06: free for all

a/n: it’s literally just 2k of pining, pls take it, it’s all i have to offer. meant to be a parallel to the carriage scene at the beginning of kos but it got a bit out of hand 😔 big thanks to @storm-dog-pirate and @mareshes for helping me beta!

ao3

---

When Nikolai woke, it was less surfacing gently from the sea of sleep than being abruptly spat out onto dry land by a monster. He inhaled sharply, his mind instantly assaulted with his surroundings. He was on his bed at the Grand Palace. Chains were once again fastened around his wrists. And an unfairly lovely face was hovering above his, her dark curls brushing his bare chest.

“Zoya,” he greeted with a groan, “how kind of you to grace me with your delightful presence this fine morning. I feel healthier already.”

She barely spared him a glance as she leaned over him to unlock the shackle on his right wrist. He caught a whiff of her hair, the same strangely familiar wildflower scent as always.

“Getting a head start on the flattery, are we?” Her voice was rough, strained. He could see a near imperceptible tremor in her hands as she fitted her key into the lock. It took her multiple tries to get the stubborn thing to turn. Odd, when she’d practically perfected the technique of unchaining a king from his bed months ago. 

He shifted to get a closer look at her. Dark shadows bloomed under her eyes, her brows furrowed as she attempted to unlock the last shackle. Her hair was in sore need of brushing. Saints, had she really emerged from her rooms looking like that? Perhaps she was human like the rest of them after all.

“Late night?” he attempted. “Fun night?”

“Only you would think of fun while facing war on six fronts, my king.” She moved away as soon as the shackle sprang open as if she didn’t want to be near him for any longer than necessary.

He sat up and watched her retreat into the sitting room, rubbing at his sore wrists. Had he done something to offend her recently? Besides daring to breathe the same air as her, naturally. He pondered the question as he washed and dressed mechanically.

When he emerged from his room, he found Zoya hovering in front of a gilded mirror with a ribbon in her hands. As he watched, she attempted to pull her hair into something more manageable than its current frazzled state, but each time she’d miss a strand or the knot would become undone as soon as she dropped her hands. His eyes met hers in the mirror. The dark smudges under her eyes only seemed to make them bluer than ever. An untold secret seemed to lurk behind their depths, but she’d probably sooner jump out the window than confide in him.

“You’re a mess, Zoya.”

“Says the man who was just chained to his bed.” There wasn’t nearly enough venom in her voice to reassure him of his general’s wellbeing. He crossed the room and plucked the ribbon from her hands. She made no move to stop him.

“You know, I once had a promising future as a hairdresser,” he remarked idly as he took a strand of her hair in his hands after a moment’s hesitation. It was impossibly silky, and if he’d been wearing his gloves, he was sure it would have slipped right out of his hands. The dark scars on his fingers were hidden among the loose curls, and for just a moment, he could pretend he was just another man. But Zoya would never be just another woman to him, would she? He used his fingers to carefully comb out the worst of the tangles. 

“Is that so?” The words were a challenge, or perhaps an invitation. He could never quite tell with her.

“Girls would line up at the door when they heard I was in town just to get the newest styles done by me,” he boasted. It was true, to an extent. By “girls,” he’d meant Dominik’s two little sisters, Faina and Polina who had adored their brother’s mysterious friend. They’d forced him to arrange their hair just like the ladies at court, and because he never did anything only halfway, he’d bribed one of his mother’s servants to teach him just so he’d have something to delight them with. For a moment, he could hear Dominik’s warm laughter as his sisters eagerly showed off their pretty braids. 

Some prince you are, he’d said with a grin as the two of them tore into his mother’s sweet pastries. All you’re good for is making the ladies happy.

Not just the ladies, Nikolai had wanted to say, but Dominik had already turned to yell at his sisters for playing too close to the river.

But now Dominik was gone, and all he had left was the broken country that had failed him. And Zoya, always Zoya. 

His fingers skimmed the warm skin at her neck as he pulled back another strand of hair. Zoya was barely moving, only letting out the occasional hiss when he accidentally pulled too hard. As he plaited her hair, his eyes wandered down to the collar of her kefta. It was slung unusually low this morning, and from his vantage point, he could see the tip of one of her scars, the paler strip of skin just visible beneath the fur collar. He couldn’t help thinking about how easy it’d be to lean forward and press a kiss to the back of her neck. Would she pull away? He swallowed and averted his eyes. Saints, this had to be some game of hers, didn’t it? Sometimes he wondered if the little things she did- sending looks his way that from anyone else, would have been a reason for scandal, or letting her fingers linger on his as she handed him something- were on purpose. But he'd heard the stories of the people she’d toyed with when she was younger and crueler. She played for the sake of the game, not the prize, and if the stories were true, she had yet to lose. He was never quite sure if she was playing the same game with him, but if she was, her winning streak wasn't going to be broken. He blinked and focused on Zoya’s reflection again.

“Zoya.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

As expected, she crossed her arms and scowled into the mirror. “Nothing. Hurry up so we can be on our way, or people will talk.”

“People already talk. Why do you look like you stayed out drinking with Genya and didn’t get a wink of sleep?” He pressed the issue, not sure if she would tell him anything at all. Even after three years of rebuilding a country together, there were still some lines Zoya refused to cross. 

“Maybe I did go out drinking with Genya.” Her voice was curt, clipped. He didn’t believe her for an instant.

“Without inviting me? How treasonous.” 

“You were unwanted.” 

At least her poisonous tongue was back. He supposed it was better than nothing. His braid finished, he tied it off with a neat bow. “There,” he said softly, admiring his handiwork. He let his hands linger in her hair for a moment longer before pulling them back. “Now you look a fraction more presentable.”

In the mirror, Zoya’s lips quirked upwards. “What an excellent valet you make.”

He was instantly reminded of that night in the carriage, Zoya snug in his arms as they played the role of sated lovers. She’d seen him at his worst, and yet she was still here every morning to wake him and face the country together. He supposed he ought to have returned the favor somehow, but what did he have left to give? Somehow, Zoya didn’t seem like someone who’d have use for his eternal gratitude or respect. 

“Your buttons are done wrong,” he muttered as he caught sight of her kefta in the mirror. Either she’d had a very good night, or a very bad night, but he couldn’t decide which was worse. He spun her by the shoulders and hesitated for a moment before kneeling. Vasily’s voice echoed in his head as he refastened the first of the pearl buttons. A king never kneels, brother. But his brother had never met Zoya Nazyalensky.

He glanced up at her, but her gaze was faraway, her arms crossed over her chest as she worried at her bottom lip. 

“A king’s kneeling in front of you, shouldn’t you be a bit more excited?” he quipped, somewhat desperate to get a normal reaction from her. 

She raised a brow. “I’ve had plenty of men kneel before me in the past. Why would a king be any different unless he offers me a country as well?”

He moved on to the buttons over her stomach. “If I recall correctly, I already did. You weren’t thrilled.”

She stiffened. He rose to his feet again as he finished the buttons over her chest. The pearls gleamed in a neat line down the front of her kefta, nestled in the whorls of silver embroidery. He could spend hours tracing the patterns with his eyes, and he often did during particularly trying Triumvirate meetings. He resisted the urge to trace one of the spirals with a finger. Finally, he got to the buttons at her neck.

"Do take care next time to not look like..." His voice trailed off as his eyes left the saints forsaken buttons for a moment to find Zoya's exquisite face entirely too close to his. Even exhausted, her features still spoke of regality and poise, her blue eyes bright and defiant as they stared right back at him. Nikolai's eyes tried to return to the task at hand, but they met a distraction on the way, namely, her lips. Saints, her lips. He swallowed hard and tried to force his fingers to move. 

"Like what?" she demanded. 

"Like..." 

A girl in need of kissing. 

"...a toddler who tried to dress herself," he finished weakly. Then, as if his hand had a mind of its own, it drifted upwards and swept an errant lock of Zoya’s hair back behind her ear. His palm brushed her cheek and hovered there. He could scarcely breathe as if her closeness had sucked all the air from the room.

Zoya peered up at him from under her lashes, her gaze inscrutable. Then she sighed and let her cheek rest against his palm for the briefest heartbeat. Her warmth had barely registered before she was stepping back again, her general’s mask firmly back in place as if nothing had happened. Nikolai tried not to let it sting too much as he tucked his hands into his coat pockets. 

“Anything else for me to fix? A broken shoe? A lonely heart?”

The last one was a jest, but Zoya’s lips pursed as if he’d caused a problem she’d have to fix later. “No. Let’s go. The Triumvirate has been waiting long enough.”

She turned to go, then paused halfway to the door. A foolish seed of hope took root in Nikolai’s heart, only to be trampled with her next words.

“Don’t forget your gloves.”

She swept out of the room without another backwards glance, the scent of wildflowers and thunderstorms left in her wake. 

He would play her game, he decided as he found his gloves and slipped them on. Having his heart broken by Zoya Nazyalensky was still preferable to the impossibility of staying away from her.