#it’s 4am head empty except for thoughts of them

[shurohigi]

quote from that one post by @zashiyumada

[throughparisallthroughrome]

give you my lovin

pairing: modern!anakin x reader

warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting

word count: 2.3k

description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?

A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.

You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.

Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.

You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.

The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.

Positive.

“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.

“Anakin, come on-“

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”

“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“

“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”

“Anakin, I know, but-“

“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“

“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.

“Anakin, I’m so sorry, I-“

He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.

“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.

When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.

“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.

You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.

“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”

“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”

“What. The. Fuck.”

“He’s in love with me.”

“Y/N-“

“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.

—————————-

“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.

“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.

“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”

“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“

“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.

“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“

“That’s because he’s my best friend!”

“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”

“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.

“Y/N, I love you-“

“Not you too.”

“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”

“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”

“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.

“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

—————————-

Positive.

Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.

“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.

“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.

“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“

“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”

The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.

“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.

Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!

You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.

Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.

His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.

“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.

You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.

There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.

You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.

He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.

“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”

“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.

“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”

“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.

“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”

“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”

“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“

“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.

“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”

As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.

“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.

“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.

When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.

“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.

“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.

“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.

“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.

“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.

“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.

“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.

“Yeah.”

————————

[letsgoletsgetit08]

It's A Trip! Ch. 1

summary: It started off as a joke, the proposition to road trip from the east coast to the west coast for Hongjoong and Seonghwa's wedding, but then Mingi said yes. And Jongho wasn't about to pass up that opportunity.

warnings/tags: mdni!, mxm, smut, recreational drug use, tropes, fluff, light angst, wooyoung is a little shit, jongho is whipped, au non-famous, siri play maknae on top by stray kids

pairing: top!jongho x bottom!mingi

author's note: I couldn't resist the idea of a little stoner road trip situation with unspoken feelings and Wooyoung trying to play matchmaker behind the scenes. Loosely based on the song of the same title by Joywave that got stuck in my head recently and fits the vibes, I think. Anyway. Enjoy!

word count: 21k (around 3.5k per chapter, 6 chapters total)

ao3 link: It's A Trip!

It's A Trip!

Day One

Hongjoong and Seonghwa were getting married. A destination wedding in the middle of Joshua Tree National Park, where they had rented out luxury yurts for their friend group to stay in. Everyone else had chosen to fly, considering none of them lived close by. But Jongho had a different idea: why didn't some of them take a road trip instead? 

He was half joking when he originally suggested it, but then Mingi was immediately game - something he hadn't exactly been expecting - and Wooyoung and San agreed as well. The latter part was not as important to Jongho (no offense to them). But he missed Mingi dearly, though he would probably never admit that. They lived a few hours apart now and going from college roommates to just regular adult roommates, seeing each other daily to maybe seeing each other a few times a year was quite the adjustment. It was weird not having him around. Empty. Jongho himself was the one who was technically gone, if you wanted to split hairs. He had taken a job as a voice professor at Brown after he had finished his masters degree at Juilliard, leaving Mingi alone in New York, where he worked as a music producer. Jongho hadn't realized how attached he had grown to the man until he was gone.

By attached he meant… well. He didn't really know what he meant. He had never thought of it as attraction, per se, when they lived together. But when Mingi moved out and they both started dating around, Jongho found himself unable to really care about, concentrate on, or be interested in anyone he had tried to date. He found himself comparing every single one of them to Mingi, subconsciously at first, but then when he became cognizant of it, it was very obvious and almost became a compulsive habit.

He found himself trying to explain his breakups to his friends, but the real reasonings were always left unspoken:

“Hyunjin is nice but he is always cold.” Mingi was always warm. 

“Taehyun is great except he doesn't respond to my jokes the right way,” the way Mingi would get them. 

“Chaeryeong is so sweet but she doesn't like to be taken care of,” Mingi liked to be treated like a princess.

He had no clue how Mingi felt about him in return. They had always just been friends. Although, to be fair, he was significantly closer to Mingi than he was to the rest of the friend group. Mingi had the uncanny ability to see through whatever facade he was putting on and would dig deeper without even really trying. Just studied him in a way others didn't, seeing past the surface. 

He was doing it now, in fact, from the passenger seat. 

It was 7am and he had just picked Mingi up from his place in Brooklyn in the rental car, a spacious and brand new Toyota 4-Runner. Mingi's idea. 

“We'll kill each other if we're stuck in a tiny Camry together for six days.” He had reasoned. 

He was right. Plus, the 4-Runner was really cool, he couldn't lie. 

His 4am departure from Providence wasn't wearing on him quite yet, but he felt tired just looking at how bouncy and full of energy Mingi was. The man always had a hard time concealing his excitement. His heart had done backflips at the sight of him bounding down the front steps of his brownstone, duffel bag flung over his shoulder, suit bag in the other hand, sunglasses on, black and ivory headphones around his neck. He looked better than Jongho had remembered, but as he entered the car with an enthusiastic, “What's up!” Jongho noted that he still smelled the same.

He had missed him so much. 

Jongho didn't say that though, naturally. Instead, he said, “You're too enthusiastic for 7am, Mingi.” 

Mingi barked a laugh, “I'm just excited to see you, man!” 

Jongho probably blushed, but turned his head to look out the window, hoping Mingi had missed it. 

“I'm glad to see you, too.” He mumbled quietly, only loud enough for Mingi to barely make out.

It wasn't too long of a trip to Philadelphia from New York, and Jongho couldn't help but mourn the only time he had with Mingi alone in the car as it passed too fast for his liking. 

He tried to make the most of it, making Mingi keel over with laughter as he sang every part to Bohemian Rhapsody, listened to him talk about the new artist he was working with, how excited he was for the album he was producing to drop, and to Jongho's surprise (and well-contained joy), the story about Mingi's somewhat recent breakup. It hadn't been super serious, but he seemed similarly dissatisfied as Jongho had often found himself when it came to his ever passing relationships. 

He felt even more chuffed as Mingi remarked, “It's not that I didn't like her, dude, it's just like,” he thought about it for a second, “No one is as easy to be around as you, Jongho. It's kind of annoying.”

“I know what you mean.” Jongho admitted. 

“Well if we're both still single at 40, let's just say screw it.” Mingi joked. 

Of course he was joking. Jongho knew there was no way Mingi saw him as anything but a friend, likely closer to a brother. Yet he still stuck out his hand for Mingi to shake to seal the deal, “Deal.” And he was so serious. 

He figured a platonic marriage of convenience would still be better than one with someone else whom he didn't even like half as much as he liked Mingi. 

It was over before he knew it, the drive feeling closer to twenty minutes than it had two hours. 

Soon, they were pulling up in front of Wooyoung and San's townhouse. The two of them emerged glued together as they always were, Wooyoung empty handed aside from his pillow, San insistent upon carrying their luggage for them, a gentleman as always. 

They were a little nauseating. 

Maybe Jongho was just jealous. 

Wooyoung met Jongho's eye from the backseat via the rear view mirror, giving him a deviously knowing look. He was the only person on the planet who had an inkling about Jongho's feelings for Mingi. Jongho was sure that meant San knew, too, but he was much more inclined to stay out of it than was his fiance. 

Jongho rolled his eyes at Wooyoung, earning a wicked smile in return. 

Of the eight of them, he and Wooyoung acted the most like siblings. The fact that they were the closest in age probably contributed to that. Jongho hadn't even intentionally told Wooyoung about his feelings for Mingi - the man was just an annoying pest and happened to notice how much Jongho talked about him after he moved out. When Wooyoung had pointed it out, acting as if he had just stumbled upon Jongho's deepest darkest secret (which honestly, he basically had), Jongho hadn't even been able to think of any believable way to deny it and Wooyoung had taken that for what it was, an endorsement of the truth.

Wooyoung had insisted on being in charge of planning the road trip and had calculated that they could make it in plenty of time, an entire two days to spare (one for the bachelor party, the other for the rehearsal), with only three nights spent on the road, meaning each day entailed on average around ten hours of drive time. With four people to rotate through, it really wasn't that bad. Their destination that night was Knoxville, Tennessee, with the idea of stopping in Nashville and Memphis the next day before ultimately arriving in Fayetteville, Arkansas for their second night. Fayetteville was slightly off the path, but it was a college town and Wooyoung had found, “the cutest little Inn!” right on the street downtown where all the college kids partied. They themselves were all only five or so, give or take, years out of undergrad. The last night would be spent in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Also a little off the path, but “It’s Santa Fe, you guys. Come on. It's Santa Fe.” The sentiment meant nothing to the three of them but they trusted Wooyoung. Because he insisted upon them doing so. It would be fun. Trust Wooyoung! That could easily have been the theme of the road trip. Just trust Wooyoung, everything will be great. And really, he did. They all did. Wooyoung had almost a sixth sense for things like this. Everything he touched, planned, organized, whatever have you, turned to gold. It's a big reason Jongho felt comfortable with his friend knowing his secret. Part of him thought maybe, just maybe, if Wooyoung was involved somehow, that things with Mingi would just magically work out. 

By the time they reached middle-of-nowhere, Virginia, Jongho and Mingi had both had their turns driving and were switching off to the back seat so that San could take over, Wooyoung joining him up front. 

Wooyoung had cornered Jongho in the bathroom in the gas station at which they were refueling the car and themselves, “You need to tell him how you feel.” He said in a rush, quietly, just in case.

“Hell fucking no.” Jongho replied, “I will not be saying anything unless I have cold, hard, proof right in front of me that he has any sort of feelings towards me outside of friendship.”

Wooyoung shoved his arm, “That’s stupid! I can see how he looks at you!”

Jongho huffed, “Wooyoung, you think everyone wants to fuck each other all the time.”

“Everyone does want to fuck each other all the time! Look at Hongjoong and Seonghwa! I called that before literally anyone.” Wooyoung argued. 

It was true. Jongho couldn’t deny it. Well, he shouldn’t deny it, but he sure was going to, “I’m not convinced Seonghwa hadn’t tipped you off to that at some point before. You really can’t take credit for predicting that.”

Wooyoung sighed, “Believe me or don’t but I did call it. And I’m calling this, too. You and Mingi will have confessed by the end of the trip. And I would put money on Mingi not being the one to do something about it first. Actually, I have put money on it. I owe San $200 if Mingi confesses first.” He looked stupidly proud of himself.

“God, I knew you would tell San! You two might as well share a brain.” Jongho pushed past Wooyoung, ignoring his empty taunts and threats as he walked back out to the car. 

Back on the road, Mingi was trying to work some on his laptop, but had to put it away, saying he was going to get car sick if he kept at it. Jongho was getting sleepy, but was too jittery and nervous being in the back seat with Mingi only a foot or so away. 

Mingi’s head tipped back, leaning on the head rest of the seat, his eyes closed, a somewhat pained expression on his face. 

Jongho couldn’t resist it, he reached up and moved a strand of hair off of Mingi’s face where it looked like it would be uncomfortably tickling his nose had he left it. 

“You alright?” Jongho asked him softly. 

Mingi nodded but didn’t open his eyes, “Yeah. Just getting sleepy.”

“Work isn't too stressful?” Jongho inquired, a little worried about him. Mingi was a perfectionist and had a hard time not letting little things get to him. Jongho had been there for more than one panic attack due to stress from a project but mostly from pressure put upon himself. 

“It is stressful. But it's okay. I've got better coping mechanisms now. Had to, without you around to look after me.” Mingi smiled, though his eyes stayed closed. 

“Okay. Well good. Get some sleep then, yeah?” Jongho insisted.

“Mmh yeah good call.” Mingi said thickly, already half asleep.

San had been pretending not to listen, but suddenly they were listening to a very dry podcast on European history rather than the music that had been playing. Wooyoung protested for a second - he had been putting on an unsolicited concert for the whole car, but San insisted, “Driver gets aux!” and shot a quick glance to the backseat, then back to Wooyoung, trying to communicate with just his eyes. Wooyoung seemed to understand and just said, “Okay, fine.” 

San found Jongho’s eyes in the rearview mirror this time, giving him his tiniest, proudest little smile, dimples barely visible. Jongho stuck his tongue out in reply.

Mingi’s head kept tipping forward and waking him up. Jongho noticed this and reached over to put his hand on Mingi’s knee, shaking it lightly to get the man to wake up. When he did, Jongho simply looked at him and patted his lap. Mingi understood and leaned over sideways until his head was in Jongho’s lap, fingers carding softly through his long, pink hair, falling asleep immediately. 

Eastern Tennessee was surprisingly pretty, Jongho had to admit. A big reason Wooyoung had agreed to this trip was because it was late October and the fall foliage was stunning. Perfect for someone who had recently taken up photography and had a natural talent for it. It would be interesting to see how it all changed from east to west as they traveled. Wooyoung had made several frantic stops on their drive so far, asking to pull over to marked overlooks, snapping a few quick pictures, then moving on. 

At least he was fast about it. 

After far too long in the car together, the four of them nearly stumbled on their exit after pulling into the hotel parking lot. Legs stiff, glad to no longer be sharing the same oxygen, at least briefly. Wooyoung had thankfully (begrudgingly) booked two separate rooms, after quite the protest, arguing that it would be like old times! A sleepover! The only thing that convinced him was San pointing out that they wouldn't be able to have sex if all four of them shared a room. That changed his mind real quick.

You could technically call it a hotel, but the three of them who weren't Wooyoung were a little dumbfounded at what they had just pulled up to. 

“You booked us Hobbit huts?!” Was the question making its way in some form out of their mouths. 

They had been asleep when Wooyoung pulled the car up, missing the sign reading “Ancient Lore Village” on their way in. 

“I think what you meant to say was ‘Wooyoung, this is so cool, we're so happy you booked us the Hobbit huts, how will we ever thank you enough?’” Wooyoung said smugly. 

Jongho hid his excitement, never wanting to give Wooyoung the satisfaction. 

Mingi looked at him and smiled, reading straight through him as always, but didn't give it away. 

“So when you agreed to book separate rooms, you-” Mingi started. 

“Booked the two bedroom Hobbit hut, yeah!” Wooyoung finished for him. 

Upon entering, (Mingi having to duck through the entrance), the hut was pretty fucking cool. Not an exact replica to the franchise, likely for copyright reasons, but the ambience was effective. 

Mingi told Jongho he could shower first, which he was grateful for. He tried to let the hot water relax his muscles, but all he could think about was the fact that he would be sharing a bed with Mingi that night. Imagination running wild, he had to calm himself down and push away the images his brain was feeding him of Mingi in bed with him, cuddling, or kissing, or better yet- no. No. He had to stop or he'd end up needing to take care of himself in the shower and that felt a little too lewd. He cranked the shower handle over to cold in a valiant attempt to snap the fuck out of it. It worked well enough.

He stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist at the exact time Mingi walked into the room. 

Jongho would gaslight himself about this moment later, but he swore Mingi checked him out as he announced, “Pizza is here!” 

Jongho was frozen to the spot, “Okay, thanks, I'll be there soon.”

Mingi tucked his bottom lip under his front teeth, a habit of his that didn't necessarily indicate attraction like it might on most people, but Jongho could see it on his face. He was definitely checking him out. 

“You been working out?” Mingi asked, voice low. 

Jongho couldn’t help himself, flexing a little as he walked over to his suitcase, “Yeah, actually, I have been.”

He heard Mingi swallow, “Nice. Um. Yeah. You're looking good, dude.” 

Jongho pulled a shirt on, facing away from Mingi, “Thanks, it's good to know the hard work wasn't really for naught.” 

“Definitely not.” Mingi was digging through his own bag across the room now, pulling some baggies out that Jongho had a hunch on what they were. 

Jongho finished getting dressed after Mingi left and headed into the living room where Wooyoung and San were sitting practically on top of each other on a loveseat, leaving room beside Mingi for Jongho to sit next to him on the couch. 

San remembered he had packed a cooler full of beer and seltzers and got up to heft it inside, asking if anyone wanted anything. 

They did, of course, and Mingi used the opportunity of San passing out their drinks of choice to survey the room on his offerings, “I have gummies!” He pulled out the two bags, “This one is a blend, but this one is all indica. I use it to sleep but anyone is welcome if you're not a sativa fan.” 

“I thought you were more of a flower guy?” Jongho observed.

Mingi shrugged, not meeting his eyes, “You don't smoke though. For your voice. Right?”

Huh. He hadn't expected Mingi to remember that. Or be so thoughtful. “Oh. Yeah. You're right. Thanks!” 

Mingi pulled one of the hybrid gummies out of its bag, looking at Jongho questioningly. Jongho nodded, reaching for it with his hand. Mingi pulled his hand back, “Magic words?” 

Jongho couldn’t help but chuckle, “Please get me high, Mingi.”

Mingi smiled, opening his mouth to demonstrate what he wanted from Jongho. 

Jongho obeyed. The trip Mingi's hand took from mid-air to Jongho's mouth seemed to last forever, the look in Mingi's eyes dark as he placed the gummy on Jongho's tongue, finger applying pressure to hinge his jaw shut and encourage chewing. 

Jongho felt heat building low in his gut. It was hot. Mingi was hot. Did he have any clue what he was doing to him? Jongho turned away, uncomfortable from being under the spotlight, turning towards the pizza in front of them instead. 

The room was weirdly silent for a second. Wooyoung and San looking at each other, trying to ignore what they had just witnessed. 

Mingi was either oblivious or didn't care, and passed the bag over to the others before also digging into his pizza. 

None of them made it further than halfway into The Fellowship of the Rings (when in Rome, right?) before they were drifting off to sleep. The first quarter of the movie was spent with them raucously high, quoting the movie they had seen a thousand times, making fun of the parts that were fun to laugh at. But then the weed, the beer, the full stomachs and the long day seemed to hit all at once and Mingi was once again nodding off beside Jongho. Wooyoung was snoring softly, tucked into San's chest. 

Jongho shook Mingi awake, “Come on, let's go to bed. You've gotta at least brush your teeth.”

Mingi groaned, not moving. Jongho sighed and grabbed his arm, heavy with sleep, draped it around his shoulder and worked his other hand around Mingi's waist, helping him stand up. “Guys, go to bed!” He called to Wooyoung and San. They stirred sleepily as Jongho reached down to turn off the TV. San ended up bridal carrying Wooyoung into their bedroom since the man was refusing to walk on his own, whining and grumbling, bratty as ever. 

Jongho limped Mingi into their room, propped him against the bathroom counter, and dug through his bathroom bag in search of his toothpaste. He found them under a small bottle of lube and some condoms. Huh. Interesting. He probably just carried that bag with him when he was hooking up with someone. He shook his head to rid his brain of the dirty thoughts that were creeping in and helped Mingi brush his teeth. 

He was awake enough after that and went to flop clumsily straight onto the middle of the bed after stripping down to his boxers. Jongho swallowed. So Mingi still slept like that. Surely Wooyoung had booked separate beds for the rest of their trip. Jongho didn't think he could bear being in such proximity to a nearly naked Mingi the whole trip. It would probably kill him. 

He finished up in the bathroom then joined Mingi in the bed, not meaning to wake him up, but it was hard not to seeing as he had to roll him over in order to have room to climb in. 

Mingi made a dissatisfied noise, then when he realized Jongho was in the bed with him, mumbled, “Jong. Cuddle me.”

Jongho wasn't sure he'd heard him right, “What's that?”

Mingi reached back and grabbed Jongho's arm, tossing it over his waist, saying more clearly this time, “Hold me. Please?” 

And who was Jongho to say no? 

He slept in a t-shirt, unlike his friend, but still, the feeling of Mingi’s skin through the thin fabric of his shirt was doing something to his brain. He pulled Mingi close, jumping on the opportunity that was being presented to him. They fit together remarkably well, he noted as Mingi melted into the embrace, sighing a raspy, “G'night.” 

Jongho smiled into his bare shoulder blade, and whispered, “Goodnight, Mingi,” his mind spinning happily as he drifted off.

continue reading, chapter two here

[fayes-fics]

Cravats

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Just kinky, married wall sex.... sorry rubbish summary

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, kink content, slightly rough vaginal sex, wall sex, light bondage, biting, slight breathplay, dirty talk, derogatory term, mention of shibari style bondage and edging. Very unofficial use of cravats.

Word Count: 2.1k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Not what I should be writing (aka Portrait, my other WIPs). I should be ashamed of myself. Don't let me write at 4am. I'm going to hide now and maybe delete this later. I blame this squarely on @eleanor-bradstreet for her cravats post. Sorry <3

“Darling, I'm home early; I was thinking we c…” he screeches to a halt mid-sentence.

Damn.

You have been caught red-handed. You thought he would be out all afternoon promenading with his sister.

“What are you doing?” Benedict asks, puzzlement filling his tone.

You stand in your joint dressing room with one of his cravats looped around your neck, and you are, well, there’s no getting around it, inhaling his scent from it, even sucking on the material. Even you are not sure what compelled you to do such a thing other than you caught a whiff as you went by and, well… couldn’t resist a sniff, even a taste.

“I like the feel of the silk…” your stutter, the sound muffled, knowing you are blushing.

He moves closer. “And is there any reason you are sucking on it, my dear?” he rumbles, gently tugging the end from your mouth, eying the wet patch that blooms darker from your saliva.

“I like your taste,” you mutter quietly, head bowed in shame.

“What was that?” his tease velvety, “speak up, darling.”

You know he is flirting now. You look up to meet his heated gaze and repeat louder. “I like that they taste of you, husband.” 

His eyes dilate rapidly at your statement, and he takes a deep breath.

“I love how utterly feral you are for me,” he snarls. You are hauled against his solid frame, one of his arms banding tight around your waist, the other gathering both ends of the cravat looped around your throat a few times. “Do you know all the ways I could tease you with these?” he rumbles, his voice skittering hot over the skin of your neck.

“Tell me,” you exhale raggedly, thrilled about where this is going.

“I could tie you up in a rainbow, my darling,” his promise so intoxicating, “cover your skin in delicate, intricate silks bound in exotic knots that only I can untie.”

You breathe harder at the very idea.

“Do you know how many cravats I own, darling?”

You glance sideways at the rack but give up at attempting to count them when his warm lips start to suck insistently on the spot right below your ear.

“Fifty-two,” he answers between nips of your skin with his teeth, “one for every week of the year.”

“That’s a lot, husband…,” you rasp, his grip on the cravat at your neck starting to restrict your windpipe just a touch, causing a dangerous slick jolt of arousal down your spine.

He hums in agreement, suddenly releases the cravat, and wrenches your dress off your right shoulder—the room echoing with the sound of a seam ripping under his harsh grip. His mouth lands hot on the skin there, and you shudder as he bites down just a little. Talk about feral.

Wordlessly he rips the rest of your light cotton dress with one fist grab, and it falls to the floor around you. It wasn’t one of your favourites anyway; the animalistic urge it has brought out in him is far more enthralling than your affection for that dress. 

Then his hands are roughly plucking the lace of your stays, your whole body jerking with the motions. All the while, he is staring you down predatory, and you daren’t look away, just hypnotised by his stormy expression. When he is like this occasionally, you are utterly mindless for it, for him, in this crazed state. Your stays hit the floor behind you, and he picks up your now naked body, except his cravat, and propels you against the wall of your dressing room, knocking over an empty hatstand as he does so.

You gasp as it slams to the wood floor, and your back hits the wall. 

“Benedict,” you splutter in surprise at how forceful he is. He’s not hurting you, but he’s not treating you gently.

“Don’t suck on my clothing like a wanton little bitch in heat and not expect me to fuck you,” he intones.

You are shocked at how aroused you get at the derogatory phrase he uses—just a flood between your thighs. Your nipples pebbled hard as they rasp against the slightly scratchy wool of his sharply tailored cropped jacket as his hand reaches between your bodies and roughly unbuttons his britches.

You feel a wave of body heat over the apex of your thighs as he pulls out his cock and swipes its hot sticky tip over your clit. You moan at the sensation, already so pulsing and swollen from his handling of you. He loops your left leg high onto his forearm, a slight burn in your thigh from the stretch, and plunges into your pussy without warning. You cry out at the sheer size and speed of his invasion. Spearing you open.

“Yes, that’s it; scream my name,” he orders through clenched teeth; your most often mild-mannered sweet husband is almost nowhere to be found under this untamed wild man. And hell, if it isn’t everything you want.

He starts a punishing rhythm right away. Just fucking you. Hard. Your hands fly into his hair and fist the luscious mass there. He groans lewdly as you tug on the strands and rake your nails over his scalp, giving almost as good as you are getting. Hungry for him in a way you're not sure polite society would understand. 

You idly wonder how many wives of the Ton get stripped, bitten and fucked against a wall by their husbands on an overcast Tuesday afternoon. You suspect very few. You also suspect fewer would do what you do, pitch forward in his rough, punishing grip and bite his earlobe, gusting encouragements right into his ear, making him stumble in his movement and growl.

You want his handprints on your body, his teeth marks, signs that you are his. And you want to mark him too, leave scratches on his skin, bruises on his neck from sucking so hard. Just possessive, dark things that he brings out in you, things that you never imagined when you married him as a maid, all those months ago. 

You’ll never forget the first time he was like this. You removed your shawl as you sat down in a box to watch the opera, and he saw the mark he had left on the swell of your breast, entirely by accident, in his enthusiasm. He leans over, mumbles an apology, and asks you to conceal it. Instead, you turn your head and whisper you are proud to wear his mark and don’t care who sees it. The surprise and sheer want on his face you will never forget. He made it through half a song before grabbing your hand and pulling you into a stairwell, pushing aside your underwear and taking you right there, lying on the cold stone steps. It was the fastest you had ever orgasmed in your life. And now, you aid and abet him every time he lets out his wild side, wanting nothing more than the full force of his dizzying desire.

His hipbones will undoubtedly leave marks on your inner thighs as he pounds into your body, snapping deep and making you grunt softly with each push. You will probably carry a slight ache tomorrow, and you crave it. A reminder of how much passion you can share.

He pauses his movements, leans to the side and grabs two cravats. Looping them around your wrists a few times and tying a bow as he holds you against the wall up on your tiptoe, him buried deep inside you.

“What are you doing?” you are intrigued why he has stopped to tie pretty colourful knots on your person.

He doesn't answer, but the smirk on his face as he raises your hand high makes you tilt your head up against the wall and watch as he loops the bow he made in the material around a high coat hook there.

Oh.

He does the same with your other arm. Now you are hooked to the wall.

“Green,” you breathe, and his grin is boyish and so breathtakingly handsome.

That is the word he asks you to say when he checks your comfort level with something new. You don’t even wait for him to ask, desperate for him to continue, to start fucking you again. Instead, he curls his spine outwards and sinks down to teeth your nipples. You scream and clench hard on his cock. Which just makes him clamp down harder in surprise - a carnal loop of call and response that makes you burn so hot.

“Fuck me,” you whine, rapping the knuckles of your bound hands against the wall to emphasise your point.

He chuckles richly at your apparent impatience and finally speaks for the first time since he first entered you. 

“The more you make demands, darling wife, the less inclined I am to listen. I’ll just go slower and slower and slower and keep you simmering and trembling for me. Cry pretty tears for me in sheer frustration.”

“Please don't,” you appeal, writhing between him and the wall. He is still fully clothed, just his trousers around his knees, although much of his clothing is dishevelled now by your pawings—something so commanding about him being so fully dressed as you are naked and restrained.

“Then stop making demands,” he murmurs silkily, “or I’ll gag you too.”

Your eyes flash with excitement at the idea, and he chuckles again.

“Maybe not; you would enjoy that far too much, wouldn’t you? Dear god, I am the luckiest man alive,” he breathes and cups your jaw, moving to give you a surprisingly tender kiss.

“Please, Benedict,” you beseech softly over his lips.

“Okay, my darling,” he soothes, flicking a gentle thumb over your nipple and making you whine more.

He begins to move again, building a steady cadence that burns you white-hot. You moan for more, and he obliges, snapping harder into you, precisely what you need. Nudging the hilt of your channel, making you slump into him, putty in his punishing grip on your hipbones, slamming into your body now. You wish you could touch your clit as it pulses hard, pulled taunt by every plunge of his cock. Just needing the tiniest ounce of friction to tip over the edge you are skating.

“Does your little nub want my fingers?” he intuits duskily, and you nod vigorously and bite your lower lip, even as he keeps up those rousing thrusts.

You shout his name and a few expletives as his thumb worms its way between your bodies and unerringly finds where you need him most, pressing forcefully against the swell of your clit, hooking under your clitoral hood, right to the point of most sensation. He flicks his thumb up and down rapidly, and you are hurtled over the precipice, screaming and convulsing, your pussy squeezing so hard he has to push back against your rippling to stay inside you. A sweeping tide of sensation washing out from your core through your whole body, lungs almost burning with heaving breaths, blood pounding all over, your muscles tensing and releasing as you writhe hard, your arms aching from the slight stretch of being almost suspended by them.

Then you hear him roar and stutter in his movements, mouth hot and slack on your cheekbone as he curls inward and pumps his seed deep inside you, groaning and bodily twitching with the sheer force of it. 

After a few moments of panted breaths and little aftershocks wracking his frame, you are still somewhat floating as he unhooks your wrists and brings them back to your sides, rubbing your shoulders gently and kissing your temple sweetly as you recover.

“My love,” he breathes, back to the loving, attentive husband he always is, “are you quite well?”

“Yes, husband,” you reassure, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into the frills of his shirt that poke out of his waistcoat. “I'm going to drape myself in nothing but your cravats if this is the treat I receive,” you opine drolly as he places your foot back on the floor, slipping out from your body with a muted moan followed by a huff of amusement at your words.

“I look forward to it,” he smiles, kissing you gently on the lips and cheeks, holding your face with loving reverence.

A few weeks later, when you lean over during a dull musical recital and inform him that you are wearing one of his cravats, his brow knits in puzzlement. Until you discreetly guide his hand up under your dress to feel the silk length wrapped around the very top of your thigh, like a thickly looped garter. You don't even reach the stone steps in the quiet stairwell this time. He takes you right against the door outside your box seats where any usher or patron could walk by and see; his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your screams. Apparently, he has lost too many cravats to your gnashing teeth to gag you with the favourite one he wears that night. Pity.

I can't even bring myself to tag this... EDIT: OK I was convinced by some lovely peeps to tag it lol @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory

[thinkingabthim]

🍃🕊️｡✧⭒˚ ~ Something doesn’t feel quite right.

Genre: Angst to Fluff???

Obey me Brothers x Teleporter!reader (platonic except Lucifer)

Summary: After a bad mental health day, you decide to take a break in another country. Not knowing that time passes through. How she was gone for 24 hours turns out she was gone for a year.

Word count: 1,066

Inspo: yo mama

Warnings: Yelling and swearing

A/N: I wrote half of this in 3-4am, also happy new year 🥳 my first post in 2023 sorry for late post I had school and also I don’t know how to end this 😭 this is bad I hate this

Multiple thuds have been heard from the upper floor, and multiple people falling off the stairs.

Multiple thuds have been heard from the upper floor, and multiple people falling off the stairs.

Multiple thuds have been heard from the upper floor, and multiple people falling off the stairs.

Asmodeus was the first to approach you, running;

“Where are you going dearie?” He asks, clinging on your side.

“I’m gonna stay at my friend's place.”

“Who?”

“Uhm, f/n”

“And how long are you planning to stay with them?” Lucifer appears out of the shadows.

“We’re planning to have a sleepover,” you lie

“You don’t seem to have any packed for your sleepover” he points out

“I have some stuff in their place” you explain, fidgeting with the ends of your sweater.

“Very well, enjoy” he gives you a smile of approval

“WAIT Y/N DO YOU HAVE YOUR-” Mammon’s voice get cut off by the slam of the door

Normally you would tell them when you were gonna teleport to a place, but you decided not to this time.

You wanted to be left alone.

Everything was too loud.

You closed your eyes and felt the world spin around you.

And suddenly, you’re in Switzerland.

You look behind you to see the inn you always stayed in when everything was too much.

“Another night hmm?” The old couple who owned the inn; said

“Yeah” you chuckled

“Well, go on then. This night is on us” They smile at you.

“Thank you Mrs Aebi and Mrs Müller”

They hand you a key, and waved you goodbye

You entered your room and fell asleep immediately

Time passes.

You basically slept for the whole day.

When you woke up, you had an hour left to do what you wanted to do because you slept for 23 hours (me tbh)

You decide to hang out in the mini library that the old couple allowed you to stay in because you were a usual.

And just like that your time passes.

You hand your key, and teleport back to Devildom, it took longer than usual but you shrugged it off.

As you stood in front of the house of lamentation, it somehow looked like it aged.

There was more overgrown vines, but you ignored it and entered

“I’m home! “ You yell out closing the door behind you

…

No answer, normally they’d come running down when you came back.

‘hmm, maybe they went out’ you thought

You pat your pockets trying to find you D.D.D, only realizing you left it in your room.

You quickly run up to your room to be greeted with a different look

Your bed was now covered in clothes with mismatched bed sheets, you look around the room to see everything changed.

Your bookshelf was now a desk, and your desk area was now an empty area filled with random junk.

“What the fuck?” You mumble to yourself

A loud scream was heard after something was thrown at you.

“OW WHAY THE FUCK?” You hold your head.

“WHO ARE YOU?” A female voice yelled

“NO WHO ARE YOU? What are you doing in MY room” you yell

“I’m Zoe and it’s not your room, it’s mine” She says crossing her arms

“Zoe, is there something-“ Lucifer’s words get cut off

“LUCIFER YES, can you tell this girl to get out of my room?” You ask him

There you were, standing in front of Lucifer, who kinda looked more unstable than before.

“If this is a shapeshifters sick idea of a joke, it’s not funny” He says anger laced in his voice

“What do you mean? What the fuck is wrong with all of you?”

“Get out. Whoever you are, get out. Diavolo will hear about this. He’ll hear about a shapeshifter disrespecting a dead friend of ours.” He grabs your arm and drags you out the house

“Friend? Lucifer what do you mean friend?”

“Get out. And shape shift back to your normal form. What you’re doing is disrespectful.” If looks could you’d be 6ft under

“shape shift? Lucifer you aren’t being serious right now right? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m gone for a day and suddenly you don’t know me?” you snapped

Your words were ignored and a door slammed in front of your face.

“Fucking hell” you run your hands through your hair

“You can’t be serious, asshole! Open the door!” You kick the door, only to receive no answer

“Okay well fuck you too I guess”

At this point you didn’t know where else to go.

You walk around Devildom thinking where else you could go, while you are walking you notice a few stores changed.

Your beloved bookstore was now a restaurant.

Your favorite record store, where you used to shop with Lucifer, was now a fashion boutique.

You didn’t notice how far you walked, suddenly you were in front of Diavolo’s Castle.

While you were staring at the building in front of you, a light bulb turns on in your head.

You confidently walked in front of the gate, only to be stopped by a few guards who you don’t remember being there;

“You can’t enter”

“Why not and also who are you?”

“Not relevant. But you cannot enter”

You groan

“Oh my god look a trespasser!” You pointed at a random area

“We aren’t falling for that.”

“Nah bro I’m being real”

The guards looked at each other and immediately ran to the area you pointed in.

While they were distracted you teleported in.

It was like luck was on your side (kind of) you teleported in the throne room, where Diavolo was in;

“DIAVOLO! I need help- Lucifer is acting like he doesn’t know me and I’m a shapeshifter??? apparently-“

“Y/n? Is that you?” He asks interrupting your ramble

“Jesus Christ, yes it’s me, I am here. What’s with everybody today?” You question

“Y/n…” He approached you

“And also there’s some girl named Zoe in my room???? Like excuse me-“

“Y/n.” His voice demanded, hands on your shoulder

“Yes?”

“You’ve been missing for a year.”

…

It was quiet, so quiet you could hear a fly burp.

“What?”

“You were missing for a year, everyone believed you were dead.”

“What,,, no?! I was only gone for a day. That’s not possible!” you panic

“You said you were with f/n but when we went to them to see if you were there you weren’t”

“What?…” you felt like you were gonna faint

[fotiathymos]

I do see them fight a lot in the beginning of their relationship (not romantic) mostly because they each dont know how to handle their own thoughts and emotions. 

Galo distrusts their own thoughts and world more after everything they thought was revealed to be fabricated by a man using them. Their anxiety sky rockets to the point of feeling so useless of a person, they just work 24/7 because then they have some use to others. Everything in Galo’s world was a gift from Kray, those gifts became disgusting. They were all a means to an end for Kray and Galo saw them as blessings at first. Galo did in fact work hard to become apart of burning rescue but once it was shown that Kray gave Galo that leverage to join the job as a means to get Galo killed...makes Galo feel like they were given a handout and that they aren’t really a good fire fighter and everything that they loved so much and worked hard on and poured every part of their being into...wasn’t real. Galo would have a hard time after the movie’s events. That façade of being happy and proud and a show off would grow x10. They’d have to be talking or working or doing something to not be thinking alone in their thoughts or else they’ll spiral. One of those distractions would be worrying about Lio or helping the Burnish’s efforts. But thinking about Lio romantically, thinking Lio was charming, or cute or smart or funny or how nice it was to be around Lio or how Lio actually made Galo feel like they were worth something?? Oh god no push that thought away fast. Galo would doubt all of it. They put Lio in jail and they idolized the man who almost killed all of them. Galo was worthless and didnt deserve to be given the light of day from Lio.

The problem would be that Lio could see past Galo’s façade easier then anyone else. I see a moment where all news cameras are on Galo about a trial for Kray and how Galo was testifying that day. Galo would be putting on a big front to cover the mess in his head from it all. When Galo got to go home after leaving the longest court session and then news mics in their face all day, they’d go to work instead, to find the station empty, except Lio, with some pizza and a blanket on the floor beside the firetruck. Lio would have his own exhausted eyes from watching the news all day covering the trail. Lio would nonchalantly say “It looked like you were having a hard time so I brought you food and we don’t have to talk, just relax” and Galo would breakdown. 

Lio would let Galo cry. Both of them, for sure, didnt want to talk about Kray. And Galo really didn’t want to think or feel anything for a while. They wouldn’t sleep that night, just eat pizza and Lio asked Galo to tell him about what a Matoi is and why they were so important, so then Galo would think about something else, something they enjoyed and wouldn’t have to fake a smile for. Eventually the smile would come more natural and the tears would be less frequent. Galo would doubt Lio was listening at first, till Lio started actually asking questions and engaging in Galo’s rambles. They’d both start feeling more human and laughing together. Wishing to order more pizza but it’d be 4am.

After that night all it would take is for Lio to give Galo a look for Galo to put down his façade and be honest. But mostly when they were alone. Galo would still have to fight their brain telling them that Lio doesn’t actually care. It would still throw Galo for a loop when Lio remembered something Galo said or Galo liked. They’d finally start easing more into being okay to like Lio. They’d fall really fast after that. Because those feelings were always there, Galo was finally allowing themself to feel them. Lio would take much longer on himself.

[lillian-nator]

You want more shit? I can go all day (except for school and sleep, hm) but one day techno realises just how much trouble Tommy is getting into by hanging out with Dream and challenges him to a fight, that's how the dream and Techno duel comes about, techno wins and Dream is just like "Well, what did you want me to do?" and Techno goes "stop influencing boys younger than you or ill break your kneecaps next" - 💙

Oh shit - oh shit - oh shit

Man, Blue, you are really the mvp.

I feel as though we can understand eachother - I also need to sleep and have school in the morning lol.

Anyways, I would love to continue throwing ideas back and forth with you :)

Here it is [the scene]:

[So, for this scenario to happen, I imagine that Techno has to not know of the “Tommy being high off his ass” incident at first.

So, I picture for either Techno to sleep through Tommy’s lecture - or the more likely case (and the one I am going to write here) Tommy didn’t leave his room for the entire day after he got caught.]

When Tommy still hadn’t come out of his room at noon, Wilbur and Phil thought that Tommy was simply trying to evade punishment, but when they went to go check on him, he was still asleep. Like not even pretending to be asleep, like he was clearly out of it - and Wilbur, and Phil weren’t monsters, they would let him sleep as long as he needed.

They assumed that he would need a lot after only getting to bed at 4am, high as fuck, as well.

Tommy ended up sleeping until 6pm that Saturday (the weed incident happened on a Friday night). He only got up to puke in the bathroom and lay back down in his bed.

Techno, who had been gone for most of the day, came back and assumed Tommy was coming down with something. He went into his room, closed the door and din’t come out. Look - he loved his brother, he really did, but midterms were coming up, and he didn’t want to get sick. Besides, Wilbur being the sap he was, would totally be taking care of Tommy all day, if he was sick. He loved Wilbur really, but he could never had what him and Tommy had, Wilbur being the closest with the youngest, was over-protective at times, and a tad bit jealous of Dream, but he was a great brother really, and he was totally Tommy’s favorite, no doubt about that. He means, the two were stuck to the hip when Tommy was younger, and even now, sometimes it was like they were the same person.

So, Wilbur had been in fact taking care of Tommy. Sure, he was pissed out of his mind that his fucking 15-year-old brother came back home high as a kite, but he still cared about Tommy. Probably too much for either of their goods.

As soon as Wilbur heard Tommy get out of bed, he had been prepared to go upstairs, but when he heard Tommy vomit - he stopped. He wasn’t sure if he should help the boy or not. He knows that Tommy must have a killer headache, and probably stomachache from smoking weed on an empty stomach. So, he wasn’t sure whether or not he should let Tommy live the consequences of his actions - or if he should help ease his little brother’s pain.

Look, we’ve already discussed that Wilbur cared about Tommy too much for their own goods. SO, of course Wilbur fucking helped him.

When Wilbur got up to Tommy’s room, man was he not expecting to see Tommy in as much of a mess he was. He was still in his clothes from the night before, SapNap’s jacket hanging loosely around his arms, the multitude of blankets pulled up to his chin. There was sweat dripping down his forehead, and he looked green.

Taking a better look at him, Wilbur knew that it wasn’t the weed that made Tommy throw up - the kid had actually gotten sick from being outside without a jacket.

Wilbur was ready to throw hands with a member of the Dteam.

Anyways, the fact that Tommy was sick delayed the conversation a few days, and when it did happen - that Tuesday at 2 P.M, right after Tommy got home from school - Techno was still at the School studying for midterms.

Techno still didn’t know what was going on - but he noticed the subtle differences.

Tommy had to keep his door open when he had friends over, even with Purpled and Tubbo, practically two members of their family. Wilbur locked Tommy’s window, and when it was hot outside, Tommy had to ask Wilbur to open it. The air was tense. Techno felt like he was always walking on eggshells, and he felt as though he could physically see Tommy walk on eggshells. Tommy had started sitting with Wilbur and his friends at lunch. Tubbo obviously stayed with Tommy - really, Techno could see how glad the small boy was to spend time with his brother - but Purpled switched between Dream’s table, and Wilbur’s table almost everyday.

Tommy having to keep his door open only lasted a week and a half; Tommy was too loud, and the only kids coming over were Purpled and Tubbo (Phil completed trusted them). The window stayed shut though, and Tommy was not allowed to sit with Dream for the foreseeable future.

It was 3 weeks into Tommy’s new-found punishment when Techno had to ask Phil what was going on.

Techno sighed, “Phil, seriously, what has been up with Tommy lately. Did I miss something?”

Oh.” He had a look of confusion on his face. “Did Wilbur not tell you?”

“Did Wilbur not tell me what?” Techno scoffed, Phil could have not been more vague.

“Well, Wilbur caught Tommy come home high a couple weeks ago.” Phil threaded his hand through his short hair, he wasn't sure how Techno was gonna react.

Techno didn’t know how to react. His brother? Tommy? High? “Wait - but he was grounded a couple weeks ago?”

“I caught him sneaking back in. If Wilbur hadn’t woken up, I would’ve never known that he was high. He was good at hiding it.”

“Uh...” If Techno knew one thing, it’s that you aren’t good at hiding the fact that you are tripping balls the first time you get high. “Do you think that he had done it before?”

“I’m not sure. He said that he hadn’t. Wilbur believed him, but Wilbur would beleive anything that boy tells him. I have to trust him on it though.”

Techno mumbled, “That fucker.” And walked out.

Techno wasn’t thrilled bu the fact that his 15-year-old brother had been smoking weed.

Of course he wasn’t, it was his baby brother. Tommy was never supposed to do any of that crap. But, if Techno knew Wilbur and Phil well enough, he knew that he was getting enough punishment as it is. So he laid off him, even if Techno knew that Tommy had smoked at least one other time, he assumed he wouldn’t do it again - that part was right, however what Techno did not anticipate was to catch Tommy sneaking out again, or rather in.

It was late at night, the night before Techno’s last midterm. He wasn’t always the best at Physics. So he just decided to go over a few more equations.

Sure, it was almost 4 am, but Techno never slept anyways.

So, his head is in his hands just looking down at his Physics test book when he hears the clicks of the door being unlocked, and the kitchen being directly across the the house from the door - Techno had a crystal clear view of his brother attempting to sneak back in, from where he was at the counter.

“Hey.” Tommy stops in his tracks.

Tommy walks over to Techno, sits directly across from him at the counter, putting his keys on the table. Tommy sighs loudly.

“I will tell you anything. Please just don’t tell Wilbur and Phil.”

Techno, who actually really just wanted to know what was up with his brother, decided that he would take the deal. “Sure. You have to answer my questions though.”

Tommy let out an audible sigh. “Okay, deal. What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with the obvious.” He clapped his hands together. “Are you high?”

“No.” straightforward. Techno continued, “Are you drunk - did you drink?” “No.” Techno squinted his eyes, “Are you lying?”

“Do you need a fucking sobriety test? I’m not under the fucking influence.” Tommy gritted his teeth.

“Hey.” He was used to Tommy’s attitude, so he’s not sure why the hostility caught him off guard. “I’m doing you a fucking favor - I don’t need the attitude.” He smacked the blonde on the back of the head. In the process, he took a beanie off of Tommy’s head. Upon closer inspection, Techno realized that the beanie was not Wilbur’s. It was Quackity’s.

Techno started again, “Who were you out with?”

“The gang.” Tommy deadpanned.

“Who the fuck is the gang?” He was starting to get really pissed off at Tommy’s vague answers.

“I don’t know!” Tommy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Last night it was Quackity, Karl, Tubbo, and -”

Techno sighed, “Dream.”

“Don’t cut me off. I’m giving you the fucking answers.”

“Don’t forget you’re the one in trouble here.” Techno closed his Physics book. This was gonna be a long night. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Dream asked if I wanted to meet them at the bridge, and I did. So, I went.”

“Even though you knew that you are not allowed?” Techno asked skeptically.

“That’s kind of the fucking point of sneaking out.” Tommy turned to go into his room. Techno grabbed hold of his wrist.

“Just tell me one thing, before you storm up into your room.” Tummy hummed in agreement. “How many times have you smoked weed?”

Tommy groaned; “Really? You’re still on this?”

“Just answer the damn question Tommy.” Techno growled back.

Tommy sighed, exasperated, throwing his hands in the air - also successfully freeing himself from Techno's grip. “I don’t know! 3 or 4 times - I mean it when I say, I won’t do it again.”

“I beleive you.” And he really did, although his little brother may have been sneaking around behind his back, he knew him. And Techno knew that Tommy sounded sincere. “But, you also lied about never doing it before. You also smoked weed. Here we are.”

“Whatever.” Tommy mumbled, pushing past Technoblade and stormed up to his room. What he didn’t realize is that he left his phone on the table.

Tommy’s phone buzzed - loud enough for Techno to hear it through his thoughts.

Techno shyly picked it up - look, he really didn’t want to invade Tommy’s privacy. He knew that no matter what Tommy did, he had a right to privacy away from his brothers, but, Techno couldn’t help but be curious to which of the assholes of the month was texting his brother.

It’s a text from Dream.

Dream: You dropped your student I.D. You wanna pick it up tmr night? Karl and SapNap found an abandoned mall a town over. They wanna check it out. You in - Purpled and Punz already said they were game?

Techno was about to beat the shit out of that green fucking bastard.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, nobody knew why Techno was waling down the hall with such determination.

But nobody stood in his fucking way.

As soon as he got to Dream’s locker, he saw the bastard. Standing there talking to SapNap like nothing happened last night.

Techno slammed Dream’s locker door shut, earning a wince from the tall blonde.

“What the hell dude?” Dream snarled, annoyed, and fucking too tired to deal with anyone’s shit.

“’What the hell dude?’“ Techno mocked. “Why the fuck are you helping my little brother sneak out?”

“Because he asked me too! It’s not my fault he wanted to hang out, and I’m not taking the blame for something he did.” Dream was tired of getting involved with Tommy’s brothers. He loved the kid really, but his brothers were a lot to handle.

“Tubbo, too! We both know he’s grounded.” Techno mused, hands raised to the ceiling.

Dream, swore he was never gonna get a break from this guy. "Tubbo asked too! I'm not gonna take responsibilities for their actions!"

"Then stop fucking inviting them." Techno growled.

"Look. If they want to sneak out - I'm not, not, gonna tell them when we are hanging out."

"Just stop fucking inviting them - then none of this would ever be your problem. You got it? Stop fucking around with my brothers." Techno stepped closer, pointing a finger in Dream's chest.

Dream looked at the pink-haired boy with a knowing look. He said 'brothers' - okay. So, Techno was talking about all 3 of the teens.

He dropped his head, he really didn't want to get into a fight right now, "Look, I'm sorry okay? I can promise you I won't give any of them alcohol. I can promise I won't let Tommy take a hit of Quack's joint. But, I can't promise I won't stop hanging out with them."

Techno laughed, "You don't understand do you? The point is that you let him do it in the first place."

"Do you really want to do this, right now?" At this point students had gathered around the pair. "You want to fucking fight?"

"If that will make you shut up and leave my fucking life; yeah."

Dream threw the first punch.

There isn't much to say about the fight. Techno won - but barely. Both came out with bloody noses, split knuckles, bruised ribs, bleeding lips, and tired arms.

Techno broke Dream's nose.

It was a good fight.

Most of the student body watched, 'oohing' everytime a punch was thrown. At some point, Tommy had seen the fight go down, and Karl had to hold the blonde back, from breaking up the fight himself.

"Alright," Dream admitted on the floor, tired beyond relief. "What do you want?"

Techno seethed, "I want you to stay the fuck away from my brothers." and walked away.

------------------------------------

Later, after school, when Tommy walked in on Calvin helping Techno clean himself up in the bathroom, Tommy brushed past Techno, bumping into his shoulder.

"Hey -" Techno grunted in pain.

"Good fucking luck explaining this to Phil. I'm going to Tubbo's. I won't see you later." Tommy growled, and continued walking.

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

PART I

concept: this is a collection of happenings, the little moments with him, rather than a whole thought-out fic. the slowest of slow burns. this is the second part, the reunion. this is what happens when the night is over.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2,618

warnings: none, except a little profanity

author’s note: part two is here! i hope you like it :)

The second time you met Chris, was while you were at work. You were a cocktail waitress at a relatively posh, incredibly elite, uptown bar. The kind that charges you way too much for a drink so little, and probably sells diamond infused vodka. This was the night spot of everyone who was anyone – gods that sipped golden champagne from fine, polished Baccarat flutes that were probably worth your house.

You had no problem with rich people. You just had a problem with the way some treated you – and that was to say, not very well.

“Hey.” A male voice startled you out of your near robotic drink making. They were a bit understaffed that night, so you had taken the liberty of helping out behind the bar while the tables in your section remained vacant. You were somewhat of an expert cocktail maker – you could even safely say you could do it blindfolded (an exceptionally wild bachelor’s party provided proof enough). So it wasn’t uncommon for your mind to drift elsewhere while you mixed a drink. You tilted your head slightly in the direction of your co-worker, letting him know you were listening, while still pretending to be way more immersed in your task than you really were. It was that anti-social kind of night, where you’d rather be curled up at home with Netflix and a mug of tea rather than be there (despite being fully aware of how many girls would kill to have entry to the most exclusive club in Los Angeles). But the pay was good – excellent, actually – and you did get some really nice patrons at times. And your co-workers? They weren’t half bad, either. “There’s a table that just sat down in your station.”

You swore under your breath, finished mixing the drink with a sped efficiency, and handed it off to the patron. “Your station” was the VIP section, and was rarely very busy so early in the evening. You knew club routine well enough by now: pre-drinks before the party were often done at home, in the limos, or in a relatively tame bar somewhere nearby. This was for the pleasantries, the catching up, the conversations that would inevitably be drowned out by the pounding music if done anywhere else. That usually occurred around this time. This club – and many like it – the kind that was where everyone who was anyone had to be seen at – was the second phase. The party phase. The phase where most of the time, drama, and scandal, took place. This was often from 10pm till 4am, depending on the stamina of the party goers. And then the wind down: after parties, often held at someone’s house. This was the natural order of the night world, and you respected people who respected that. You modelled your entire schedule around that.

That’s why you had assumed that your station would’ve been empty until much later – until after pre-drinks and conversations. Whoever just sat down in VIP – they were disturbing the natural fucking order, and you were not having it. Well, you were silently not having it; you still needed, like, money.

Your job didn’t come without it’s perks, though. A murder of stunning people were sat on the plush leather couches surrounding black marble topped tables behind the velvet chain that separated them from the masses. Some you recognised instantly from the big screen, and others from the tabloids. And one from a personal encounter… Your breath caught and you damn near choked.

There he was, reclined on the couch, so at ease with his arms spread over the back, grinning and laughing at something someone had said. He wasn’t looking at you. Yet. That changed abruptly, as soon as you (after having gathered your confidence) introduced yourself to them.

He faltered slightly in his laugh, but his grin remained – growing even wider, as slowly, he tilted his head to look over at you.

Immediately his eyes brightened. If there was any doubt in your mind as to whether or not it was really him, it dissipated with that single nod of recognition he gave you.

You cleared your throat as a small diversion to clear your head. “Are you ready to order?”

They rattled off their orders, almost all of them barely paying any attention to your silent exchange with Chris. Almost.

A (begrudgingly) stunning female on Chris left, who was pressed eagerly into his side, gave you a dirty once over and sneered out her order to you. Oh. She was one of those. The ones who looked down at literally anyone not a billionaire.

He noticed her disdain, and his grin fell. A small victory, he revoked his arm from around her – bemused by her display of deluded superiority. You had to physically hide your smirk as you got the last order – his – and slipped behind the bar with the orders engraved in your mind.

——————

The group departed after about two hours. Two hours of eyeing the table (mainly to check if their glasses were still full, or if they needed anything else – or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself), two hours of stolen glances – ones that you were always the first to pull away from, usually after the inevitable smirk that touched his lips when you looked for a bit longer than you should.

When they left, you cleaned the table. Who was he? He seemed to have friends in high places, but there was something else… You knew, when you first met him, that you knew his face. Ugh, that itch was back – the one in the brain where you know you know something but it’s evading your every grasp – and it was refusing to go away. Like an earworm of a melody, lyrics forgotten.

It plagued you for the remainder of your shift – which wasn’t necessarily long, just an hour or so more – and even as you got ready to go home.

It was approaching peak hours now, and so you knew the front would be bustling with paps and desperate social climbers begging for entrance from the surly bouncers, who stood as monoliths in churning seas. Because with peak hours, came the rich and famous; socialites, actors, singers, designers, models. And with them, the gods of the nightlife, came the screaming hordes.

God, you were dramatic. You smirked to yourself, at the internal monologue you were maintaining, as you punched in the code to slip out the back. Anything to keep a scrap of sanity in these long nights. So wrapped up in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice him following you until he laid a scopic hand on your shoulder.

You whirled, shoving him against a wall, knee approaching dangerously close to his crotch before you mercifully faltered at the familiar face.

“Chris?!” You were breathless with exhilaration, adrenaline thick in your veins at having been caught off guard. You released him, stepping away to run your hand through your hair to brush it away from your face. “What are you doing, hiding in a back alley, trying to catch unsuspecting girls off guard?!”

He chuckled at your scolding tone, at the way you pressed a hand to your beating heart, over the top dramatism at play in your actions. “Trying to catch an unsuspecting girl off guard. Obviously.”

You realised then how strange it was for him to still be here; his party departed at least an hour and a half ago. “Did you wait out here for me?”

“Can you promise not to kick me in the balls if I said yes?”

You laughed as he cautiously eyed your legs at his sentiment. “So, what, you’re following me now?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m not the one who waited an hour for someone, out in a back alley, in the freezing cold.” To punctuate your point, a cold blast of wind ripped through the alleyway, worming its way under your coat to stroke at your skin with cold tendrils. You shivered, crossing your arms to preserve the warmth. “You’re not an axe murderer, are you?”

He patted down his pockets. “Ah, shit. Must’ve left my axe at home.” His tone was dead serious, but at your roll of the eyes, he grinned.

You buried your hands in your pocket to stave off the chill. Weirdly enough, after the initial shock, you were glad to have someone with you to walk with you to your car, parked three blocks away to make room for the patrons’ stretch limousines. You inclined your head in the direction of your vehicle, nodding for him to walk with you.

He smiled softly, following you out of the dim lighting of the alleyway, into the lights of the main road. The clamour outside of the club was a roar, the leering of the paps at the celebrities who entered becoming a jumble of white noise.

You noticed how, as soon as you both approached the light, he ducked his head and upturned the collar of his jacket, avoiding the peoples’ attentative eye. You both pushed by relatively unnoticed, and you only spoke again when the bellowing crowd was a distant memory.

“So, who are you?”

The question took him by surprise. The action of lighting the cigarette he had propped between his lips stuttered, and he gave you an apprehensive look. He struck the match he had poised in his hand, looking down to watch where the flame licked. “You know who I am.”

“You just sat where Justin Bieber sat. I served drinks to the Kardashians on that couch. Only the VIPs of VIPs sit there. So, are you famous or something?”

Shaking the match out, he took a drag – prolonging his answer as long as he possibly could. He deliberated you, wondering what your reaction would be. Would you treat him differently, now? “Or something.”

You eyed him up, skeptical, before breaking into a massive grin. “Cool,” you said non-chalantly. Or at least in your head. What you really said was: “I fucking knew I wasn’t losing my mind! I fucking knew it, Mr I-Just-Have-One-Of-Those-Faces. Oh my God, I’m not crazy, fuck yes!”

The look he gave you negated that entirely, because indeed, he was looking at you as if you were a mad woman, in spite of the amused twist of his lips. “Are you done?”

After a moment of appraising him, you nodded, calm again. “Yeah, I’m done.”

You were less excited that you were in the presence of celebrity royalty, more relieved that you weren’t insane for feeling he was so familiar. That was refreshing for Chris; usually after someone discovered his identity, they would treat him differently – sidling up to him, for a favour or money or status or cloning DNA. Or for workout tips, but he got that regularly. Barring the brief moment of unhinged happiness you displayed, you treated him as you did before. Like when he stole your cab.

“Andy Barber!” You had started walking again, him alongside you, in a pleasant silence. Your outburst caused both of you to pause again. “Ransom Drysdale? Steve Rogers…”

He arched a brow in question, taking a pensive drag from his cigarette. “Are you having a stroke?”

“That’s where I recognise you from.” Mumbling to yourself, you muttered “God, I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

He chuckled, flicking the ash off his cigarette, both of you continuing on in a comfortable silence.

“So, what did I do to deserve the chance at having you escort me to my car?”

He stomped out the cigarette, smoke curling from his lips as he tried to find the best way to word his question. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh, you can proposition my fist to your face,” you chuckled in disbelief. “Just because you’re all high and mighty and famous doesn’t mean that every girl you meet is going to throw themselves at your feet even if you did buy me pizza and you’re all smug and handsome and have impeccable dress sense like, seriously, what is that? Armani? What? Why are you laughing at me?”

He had started laughing sometime during your rant and the sound, contagious and warm, had caused you to falter. You fought a smile that was threatening to rise. You were trying to make a point, goddamnit, and you would be damned if he was going to ruin it with his smug, handsome face.

“A business proposition, {your name},” he managed to say among the peels of laughter. “But please, do go on my impeccable dress sense.”

You were mortified. You probably sounded proper arrogant, thinking that he wanted to get in your pants. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a moment to conceal the fast rising heated flush of embarrassment. Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let him know. Thanks, Elsa.

“What, uh,” you cleared your throat, turning away to continue your stalling trek (and to avoid his gaze). “What business proposition?”

“Do you like dogs?”

You ignored how laugh-drunk his voice sounded – gravelly and lilted with amusement. It just served to feed your embarrassment further. “Love them. Why?”

Now it was his turn to clear his throat. “I recently, uh, split up with my girlfriend and I’m heading to Vancouver for a few months for a film. She was meant to help look after Dodger and the house while I was gone, but, given the recent change in plans, that would appear to no longer be an option.”

He avoided your gaze as you glanced over at him, but you could see the throb of the muscle in his jaw, indicating the grit of his teeth.

“And you have deemed me worthy?” You tried lightening the mood a little, and was satisfied by his small smile and accompanying chuckle.

“I know it’s too much to ask of a stranger–”

“Why don’t you get a friend to do it?”

“I would, if any were deemed worthy,” he teased. Warmth swelled in his eyes when he looked at you next, and paired with that smile and the words he spoke next, you knew you would do anything he asked. “And I am asking a friend.”

A beat passed. “Fine. I’ll live in your stupid mansion and look after your stupid dog. Okay, I didn’t mean that last bit, I’m sure Dodger is lovely, but I’ll have you know: I don’t come cheap.”

“What, living in my mansion isn’t good enough?”

“Fuck no! I still need to feed the dog, clean up after it, clean the house, have money on hand for damages in case I get too wild by myself… There’s a long, fucking list.”

“I’m sure we can make an arrangement,” he smirked.

You shivered slightly at the double entendres laced in his words; good thing it was cold, so you could easily excuse it.

“What makes you think I’ll say yes?” You tip your head in the direction of the club from which you were making your slow escape. “They pay well, a lot better than house sitting.”

“Are you happy there?”

You balked at his question. “The money is good–”

“I wasn’t asking about the money, I was asking if you were happy.” He arched a brow, something close to concern crossing his face.

“I–”

He cocked his head, waiting for an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“No, not really. Some people are real assholes, especially when drunk.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll come work for me.”

“Woah, hey now. I can’t just… Uproot my life and live with you. For starters, I have a lease and stuff. And I have a life, a job, a–”

“I have an adorable mixed boxer and a Jacuzzi.”

“When do I start?”

[underworld-of-imagines]

Alone - Spencer Reid

Prompt: “Did you get any sleep last night?”

TW: Heavy mentions of death, angst

A/N: Hey guys so this is something I worked on for a few days. I got the idea from a list of dialogue prompts I have.

Part 2

“Why didn’t you save me?”

You shot up like a bullet, your heart racing as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. The cold air burned your lungs as you drew in deep breaths, your ears still ringing from the nightmare. Your sweat-soaked shirt clung to your body, leaving a sticky residue over your skin.

Glancing at your alarm clock you let out a big groan, 4:23AM, you had barely made it 2 hours.

Knowing you wouldn’t make it back to sleep, you dragged yourself out of bed and into your kitchen. Tipping out your now cold coffee, you set about making a new hot cup to awaken your mind for the excruciatingly long day ahead. The bitter coffee burned your tongue, too lazy to care about the taste or burning you downed the cup quickly. You filled the cup again, downing it once more before throwing the cup into the over-piling sink.

The nightmares since your sisters death had been relentless, torturing you past the point of exhaustion. Avery, your sister, was killed by a drunk driver a mere two weeks ago. You weren’t very close to your younger sister, but still her sudden and painful death left you with a myriad of nightmares that followed. Your parents had already died, quite a few years ago, leaving only you and your sister to carry on the family line. But now, you were the only one left, left alone to deal with the aftermath of your sister’s death.

Hell, you and your sister weren’t close. In fact, you couldn’t be more opposite from each other. But that didn’t stop the love you had for her. Sure, you fought, every sibling fights every now and then. She didn’t approve of your work and you didn’t approve of hers; yours was dangerous, hers wasn’t enough to support her. You made it work though. Because you loved your sister.

And now, she was gone, just like your parents.

Your apartment seemed empty, no one else had ever lived there, but the hole in your heart made a hole in your apartment. You were alone. The photos of your family that you once proudly displayed now sat in a box, painful memories of everything you had lost.

Tired of standing in your apartment, you reached for your car keys before leaving the apartment. Driving was one of your favourite ways to get things off of your mind. You didn’t have to think of the pain, or the loss. It was just you and the road.

4am meant mostly empty roads, and tired drivers who wanted to be anywhere else but there. Except for you, you were wide awake and looking for the perfect distraction from your thoughts. Turning on the radio, you waited for a quiet sad song to start playing before pulling out of your apartment’s parking lot. It was the perfect distraction.

After a few hours of driving, you got a call from Hotch on your way back to your apartment.

“We got a case; briefing is in 30 minutes.” He announced sharply before hanging up. Letting out a loud sigh, you turned around and drove back towards the office. Luckily, you had thought ahead and thrown your go bag into the backseat of your car, along with a change of clothes for work. You weren’t really planning on heading home before work started. Instead, hoping that you’d find something to entertain yourself with.

“Y/L/N, how nice of you to join us.” Emily teased jokingly as you rushed into the briefing room, breathless from the quick change you had done.

“Sorry, long night.” You apologised before sitting in your seat, the tablets being handed around by Penelope.

“Oh, was he good?” Emily said teasingly.

“Um, what?” You questioned. Confused, you looked at her before realising that she thought you were with a guy.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Derek asked, his eyes watching you carefully. You glanced at him nervously, avoiding his eyes. He already knew the answer, they all did.

Hotch cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention back to the case at hand.

“Okay, so we have a murdered couple in Sheridan, Wyoming. It’s a small town with about 18,000 people. The local police department have done some investigating but came up with no viable leads. This is believed to be the third couple murdered in a string of crimes. We’ve been asked to come in and help catch the unsub.” JJ explained, pictures flashing up on the screen of the couple.

You zoned out, focusing on the photo of the female on the screen. Her black hair was the same colour of your sisters, her lips the same shade of pink. She looked scarily like your sister, so much so, that if your sister weren’t already dead, you’d be convinced that it was her.

“Y/N, come on we’re leaving in 30 minutes.” Reid announced, nudging your side almost painfully to bring you out of your trance.

Spencer was your closest friend at the BAU, you told him everything, from a book you read, to some interesting fact you had found out. You knew about his mum, and even had gone to meet her with him once. But this is something you wanted to keep to yourself, you didn’t want pity, or help – you just wanted to get over how you were feeling. Admittedly, you had hoped there was something more between you and him, but he never acted, so you assumed it was just platonic for him.

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded before standing up and leaving the room hastily, you didn’t want Reid to know why you were acting so weird. He was a genius; he’d figure it out somehow.

*****

You wrapped your jacket tighter around your body as the chills set into your bones. For some ungodly reason, the air-conditioning on the plane was always colder than necessary, and you always needed a jacket for the ride. Jokingly, your sister used to call you lizard, because of the fact that you were always cold, no matter the temperature outside.

“So, anybody got any ideas?” Hotch asked as you sat around the plane, everyone moving closer to discuss the case. You zoned out of the conversation; your eyes warily trained on the closed file in before you.

“Y/L/N go visit the last crime scene.” You zoned back into the conversation, focusing on Hotch who was sitting across from you. “The families of those victims are on their way, so we’ll touch base with them when they arrive.” Hotch assigned your roles, leaving you to continue looking over the cases on your way to the location.

*****

��Mr. Morrison was killed over here, coroner put his death at before Miss. Turner’s, who was killed in the bedroom.” You followed the officer into the bedroom, unconsciously taking notes of both the victim’s lives and their deaths.

“Were there any signs of sexual assault on the female?” You questioned, averting your eyes from the large blood stain on the bed.

“Not from what we could tell, although it seems like the killer may have positioned the body postmortem.” Around the room there were several photos of the seemingly happy couple, as well as some of their respective families. Walking over to the nightstand you noticed the slightly open bottom drawer.

“Has this been searched?” You questioned, pointing towards the open drawer before you.  

“No.” Usually you refrained from looking into one’s personal lives so much, but you needed to find any link you could between the victims.

Bending down, you opened the bottom drawer. Inside the drawer were a pile of magazines and catalogues, all about weddings and relationships. On top, was a black velvet box with a small silver leaf imprinted on it. Opening it, you saw that it was empty, the engagement ring missing from the box.

“Was she found with an engagement ring?” You questioned, examining the back of the box.  

“No, she wasn’t.” You showed the empty box to the officer, who eyed it curiously.

“So, where’s the ring?”

*****

Cold water dripped down your face, chilling your skin as you leaned against the basin, your elbows resting on the counter. The cold-water working miracles to awaken your mind again, shocking you into a state of semi-consciousness. Sucking in a deep breath, you splashed your face with more cold water again before looking up at your reflection in the mirror. You looked beyond exhausted, sunken, dark purple eyebags, pale skin, slightly sunken in skin. It was a wonder you hadn’t passed out from exhaustion entirely.

The door to the bathroom opened, Emily stepping into the small space. She quickly noticed you, and your distressed appearance. You watched as she cautiously stepped towards you, her hand extended out slightly.

“Y/N?” She asked, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You held your composure as you dried your face, forcing your lips into a gentle smile.

“Yeah, just been a rough day. This case isn’t easy,” you lied. Profiling made lying come easy to you, you could lie through your teeth about almost anything now.

“Bullshit. Something is wrong, the whole team can tell. You’ve been hurting for weeks. You obviously haven’t been sleeping, and you’re distracted almost all of the time. We’re worried about you,” tears pricked at your eyes as Emily spoke, her words hitting deep into your heart. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” She assured, her hand gently rubbing your back in circular motions.

“My sister-” you choked, the ball in your throat hardening, “she was killed in a car accident. Drunk driver.” Emily let out a painful sigh, her arms pulling you into a tight hug. “It happened about 2 weeks ago; I haven’t been able to sleep since.” You admitted, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us?” She questioned, tears pricking at her eyes as well.

“Because I need to deal with it on my own. I can’t take time off, the team needs me, victims need me. But I’m getting better,” you forced a smile to try and convince her of your words.

“You need time to heal Y/N. We can find a way to manage without you. You’re all alone in this aren’t you?” Reluctantly, you nodded your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “I’m sorry,” she apologised. “Taking some time off might help you though. It’s easy to tell that you’re exhausted and not working at your best. Nobody will blame you; we just want what’s best for you.” She reminded, her words full of warmth and heart.

“Thank you,” your voice was quiet, but she smiled, nonetheless.

“We’re here for you.”

*****

The door to Hotch’s office swung in, Hotch stood on the other side of the doorway, a grim expression on his face.

“Y/N, come on in.” You nodded, following him into the large office that you had only seen a few times. “What’s the meaning of this meeting?” He questioned, his eyes not averting from yours.

“I-I’d like to request some time off sir. My sister passed away a few weeks ago, and I thought I could handle it and work. But I haven’t been able to,” you admitted, hanging your head in shame. Anyone else on the team could have handled grieving and work, or at least separated the two from one another. You couldn’t, everywhere you went, your sister was there. Everything you did, she was there.

“Why didn’t you tell us Y/N?” Hotch’s body relaxed, a sad expression washing over his face.

“I didn’t feel like you guys needed to know.” You admitted shamefully, regret laced into your words.

“We’re your team Y/N, you should have told us.” He chastised; his voice thick with sadness.

“I know sir, I’m sorry I didn’t.” You paused in silence for a minute, the air thick as you thought of your actions. “Can I take a few weeks off sir? I promise it won’t be long, I just need some time to grieve and sort through things,” you assured, your eyes pleading.

“Of course, Y/N, take however long you need.” He reached for a piece of paper, handing it to you. “Just fill this out and send it back to me in a few days. I’ll sort out the rest.” Grateful, you took the piece of paper out of his hand, holding it gently in your own.

“Thank you, sir, see you when I come back.” You appreciated, shaking his hand briefly before walking out of the office.

The bullpen was now empty, everyone having already left to go home for a few days after the long case. You had successfully caught the killer, right before he killed another couple. Turns out he had been hunting couples looking to get engaged, because his ex-girlfriend had turned down his proposal.

The team had agreed to go out for drinks after the case, to celebrate yet another win. You had opted out of going to the bar, instead lying that you had some things you wanted to do. It wasn’t a complete lie. But thankfully, the boys had believed it. JJ and Garcia were a bit more suspicious. Emily just watched you warily, already knowing what you were going to do when you got home.

Since you had told her of your sister, she was more than understanding of your actions. And even helped you out by bringing you coffee and checking in on you. She was one of your closest friends, and you were ever grateful for her.

Grabbing your bag, you packed away some important stuff from your desk before looking around the empty bullpen – it was your home away from home. Letting out a small sigh, you hitched your bag over your shoulder before walking out of the bullpen, aware of Hotch watching you walk towards the elevators.

*****

~3RD PERSON POV~

“Hey, has anyone heard from Y/N lately?” Derek question as he walked into the break area, everyone was spread around the small area, chatting between themselves. Emily stayed quiet, glancing at Hotch who was now paying attention to current issue. The team had a right to know at least something for your sudden disappearance.

“Some things happened recently, and Y/N needed to take some time off to deal with them.” Emily spoke up, being careful not to release any telling information. Knowingly, Hotch glanced at her, he didn’t know that Emily knew, but now it made sense since Y/N wouldn’t have gone to him without being pushed.

“She was pretty out of it for the past few weeks,” JJ pointed out. The team had picked up on your behaviour and knew something was wrong from the day after her death, when you walked in late with bloodshot eyes.

“Team, Y/N took some time off for personal reasons. I can’t go much into it, but a family member passed away and she was struggling with the situation. She requested some time off to deal. I know it hasn’t been easy for her lately, so please, can we stop speculating and give her privacy.” Hotch requested, putting his coffee mug back down on the bench. Spencer glanced up at him, his eyes full of concern as he profiled his supervisor.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, standing up and grabbing his coffee. He hurried back to his desk, quickly sitting down, and sending you a hasty text.

S: Are you okay?

He waited for what seemed like forever for your response. It was only a few minutes before his phone dinged with a response.

You: So, you found out?

He ignored the pain of your harsh response as he quickly typed a response.

S: Why didn’t you tell me?

You: I didn’t feel the need to. I didn’t want anyone to find out. Emily convinced me to tell Hotch after she cornered me on the last case.

S: I thought we were close though?

You: Spencer, we are close. But this is something I wanted to deal with on my own.

He sensed your hesitation in the text, the lie that you blatantly told. Spencer knew you better than anyone, he could read you like a book. You couldn’t get anything past him.

S: Do you want me to come over?

He watched carefully as the three dots appeared and disappeared a few times. Letting out a groan, he put his phone down, he knew you needed someone to help, to talk to. But he couldn’t help but feel stupid for asking. Obviously, you didn’t want him around, or you would have told him earlier.

You: Please

With that simple word, he jumped up and practically ran over to the break area. His pleading eyes looked at Hotch, and before he could even open his mouth, Hotch spoke.

“Go,” Hotch acquiesced. He knew that you needed someone, and Spencer was the someone you needed.

Part 2

[poormeowmeowcollector]

The perfect Christmas Tree

Relationship: Loki/short!reader

Summary: You want to make the Christmas season something more livid within the tower, but you can't find a good tree. Until Loki offers his help.

Notes: part of the 'Tis The Season Challenge of @the-emo-asgardian and a twisted form of 10. Finding the perfect Christmas tree. But, in my defense, it didn't say who is the perfect Christmas tree ans it's 3am.

Read On AO3

You always loved Christmas. It is the time of the year when your family is a little less annoying and you are a bit more tolerant of listening to "All I Want For Christmas Is You” (as long as it's the My Chemical Romance version) and the food is just a huge plus.

The Avengers don't have the best memories around Christmas—maybe with the exception of Sam, Steve and Bucky—and you can't blame them. Hell, Thor, Loki and Wanda aren't even Christians, but Thor enjoys the food and Loki just goes around saying that this is a celebration stolen from pagans and then capitalism stole it from Christians. And he does celebrate Yule but you caught him at 4am raiding the cookies Wanda had baked for Hanukkah.

And, since Christmas is the happiest season for winter, you decided to make the perfect Christmas celebration the tower has ever seen. And you are so close to it. There are cookies and movies and songs and decorations and Wanda and Thor helped you include Hanukkah and Yule to the party—since Loki, the actual witch, is too busy with seasonal depression to help—but something is missing.

And that something is the damned tree.

You tried to find the best tree but it was pointless. Both Thor and Loki are extremely sensitive to earthly plants, so an actual tree is out of the list, and all the fake ones look too fake. And you want something special for the tree, but you don't know what.

So, you are now just sitting in the living room, staring at the empty corner with the decorations from the three religions beside you and trying to think of what to do.

"Still thinking about that tree, huh?" Loki's voice interrupts the silence. You hide a flinch and turn to face him with a smile. He smiles back, walking closer and leaving the hot cup of chocolate on the table.

"That obvious…" You sigh. He has seen better days, that's sure. The dark circles from the attack have returned, making his pale green eyes glow, his hair looks like a mess and he's in some dark green Æsir pyjamas. But he's still pretty.

Or your crush is still going strong.

"Why don't you just give up. This thing won't work and you know it," He asks and you frown, staring at him as you search for an answer.

He turns away to take a sip of his chocolate, and your eyes are still on him. On his hair. They look like they used to during the attack, like a sinister Christmas tree.

He sees you smiling like you just lost your mind as your brain clicks everything together.

"Stand up," You demand, and he gives you the raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Please, stand up, I have an idea!" You repeat. He still doesn't get it but obeys.

"Great. Now go to that corner," You instruct as you smile. Loki gives you a look but does what you say. And you grab the green garland and tangle his body with it, careful not to tie his hands.

"What are you doing?" He asks, way too clearly than needed. He always does that when he's angry.

"You'll be the Christmas tree!" You smile. And he glares at you, not believing what you say.

"Forget it," He snaps and tries to walk away but you put a hand on his chest.

"Please, it'll be fun. For me, please…" You beg, deploying the puppy eyes. For the last months on the team, Loki had suggested a lot of crazy things and you will not make him take your turn to madness. He sighs and closes his eyes.

"I will regret it but… fine," He hums, walking back to his place as you pass the red garland around him.

"You will look so pretty!" You exhale, grinning like a sunbeam.

"I haven't slept for a week, haven't showered in three days and I'm running lower on will to live than your laptop on battery. How will I be pretty?" He disagrees, and you suppress a frown. You always hate it when he doesn't feel good, he doesn't deserve it.

"Don't you trust me?" You ask, blinking at him. He sighs, again.

"I do, dear…" He tries to make a small smile, but he looks like he doesn't remember how.

"Then, trust me when I say that you will look perfect," You respond, making his smile widen.

He stands still as you tangle him with the lights. You are too focused on not risking him getting electrocuted to speak and he stays silent as well. But when you are done with this, he says one word "cocoa,". You nod and grab the cup from the table, standing in your tiptoes as you place it on his lips and let him sip—he can't move his hands without ruining something.

"Thank you, dear," He smiles and allows you to place the cup back before you can start placing the balls and decorations you made with Thor and Wanda, or tangle the little ropes with the garlands and lights in order to sit there.

And then, you hang two pieces in his ears, glad to find out that they sit perfectly and that Loki doesn't give you the murder glare.

"But why are you so eager to make this thing?" He asks, watching as you try to tangle a homemade star of David on his shoulder.

"Because this is a season when we can just have something together and be less miserable," You respond without a second thought. Loki makes a low sound from the back of his throat.

"Why have you decided to hate it so much?" You ask, staring at him.

"It doesn't feel right," He mutters, almost ashamed of his answer. You tilt your head, asking for elaboration. "It's all about family and being with people you love and all those things and… I haven't lived it… It's like it's mocking me, you know," He looks away, the shame getting stronger. It was about Asgard, like always…

You cup his hand, he was inhumanly cold as always, searching for his eyes. "That's why I'm making this thing. You're not the only one with bad or no memories about this season, and you deserve some happy memories…" You speak softly, hoping you don't make things worse.

He turns back to you, his eyes glowing with tears he tries to hold and a slight smile on his lips. He mouths a thank you, not having the voice to speak it up. And you reply with a smile, squeezing his hand before you release it, a small whine echoing.

"I just have to place the star and you're ready," You announce, digging into the bag for the golden star. You laugh as you take it out and stand on your tiptoes to reach Loki's head.

"Do you want me to duck?" He asks, seeing your struggle. To be fair, you are not exactly gifted with inches and he is the third tallest avenger, after Thor and Steve.

"No, I'm fine. I just gotta…" You sigh between your teeth, trying to reach him.

A green light appears beneath you and lifts you up several inches, reversing the high deference. "Thank you, sweetie," You smile. He tries to hide a blush.

Damn, he looks so cute from up here!

You place the star and balance it on his head, secretly thanking him for his good posture. You lower yourself to have eye contact. "Now you look like a pretty Christmas tree," You smile and kiss the tip of his nose.

His magical platform vanishes, and two glowing hands that tickle when they touch you bring you closer to him. At first, he just brushes his forehead to yours. But then, you pull him to a kiss.

He tastes so nice, like snow and mint and chocolate. And you can smell the aftershave in his face, feel the small grin before he kisses back, the magic hands holding you softer, closer.

"Alright, what's going on?" Tony asks, or yells, from the door. The magic hands vanish and you stare at him.

"I'm kissing our Christmas tree," You blink, as if this isn't the weirdest thing you ever said.

"I love it too…" You hum, bringing him close to a hug.

"Ok, you're high. Loki, let's suppose you are the one with a decent state of mind. Why are you covered in Christmas decoration?" Tony sighs. You can see Loki grinning, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, I'm the Christmas tree," He answers, again, as if this isn't on his top ten of weirdest things he ever said. Tony groans.

"Why did I wake up today?" He asks himself, rubbing his eye bridge.

"And, can you call the others? We're about to light him up, people should watch." You ask, smiling at Tony. He sighs and nods, speaking to JARVIS as he settles on the sofa.

"Cocoa, my love?" Loki asks. You nod and grab the cup, bringing it to his lips and letting him take a long sip. When he's over, you place it back and steal a small kiss, tasting the chocolate again.

"You really know how to make a hot cocoa," You smile at him. He bites his lip and tries to hide his blushing.

And then, people start arriving. And they all stare at Loki like he's naked. Some ask what is happening and you inform them with a smile. When everyone is settled down, you plug in the lights and walk back to admire your work.

Loki grins and raises his hands like he's asking for a hug, watching as people start smiling at the sheer ridiculousness of the view. And he doesn't give a care.

Sam takes his phone out and snaps a shot, grinning. Everyone but Steve, Bucky and Thor mimic him, snickering echoing.

"You won't post something, right?" He asks, hiding his worry. Loki has been trying to fix his public image since he became an Avenger, and this is certainly not what he means by this.

"I promise nothing," Sam smiles.

Loki tries to walk to where Sam is, but the sound of plugs getting pulled and decorations breaking stops him.

"Don't post. It's private. We'll pick up the mess," You snap. Sam nods and leaves, everyone following his steps until you are alone with Loki again.

"Come on, lets get those things off you," You mutter and untie the decorations before you get the garlands and lights off him. As you put them back to the bag, he kneels down and makes all the pieces of broken balls and hammers disappear.

"You know…" Loki trails off, now sitting on the clean ground. You already know what he's about to say.

"This was ridiculous and embarrassing, I know. I'm sorry," You don't get the courage to stare at him. But he does let his hand cup yours, bringing you down to him.

"It was fun. You know, I love it when you let me be goofy and have fun… Not a lot of people did in the past," He smiles, brushing his cold fingers against your hand.

~~~

"You get used to it, actually," Loki hums, staring at the tree.

Well, the "tree" is a hologram of Loki yesterday, his hands raised and a self proud smile on his face.

You hum, shifting to get more comfortable in his shoulder. He smiles and turns to you.

"Well, you make a good tree," You shrug. He traces his fingers on your cheek, giving you another sweet kiss.

[adultswim2021]

Space Ghost Coast to Coast #82: “Baffler Meal” | January 1, 2003 - 12:00 AM | S08E01

An all-time classic, wonderful episode. Ending 2002 on a high note (technically this is the first episode of 2003 being that it aired at midnight, but I’m delaying my EPHEMERA CORNER post for as long as I can).

The origins of Aqua Teen Hunger Force are laid bare for all to see with Baffler Meal. Aqua Teen Hunger Force was famously based on a rejected Space Ghost script. Well, this is that script, re-imagining the Aqua Teens based on old designs and concepts from that unproduced episode. The desired effect is to approximate what that episode would have been like had it been produced in 1999 before the Aqua Teen Hunger Force series proper was developed. It’s supposed to be confusing; to the point where in the DVD commentary track they even question weather or not they should make it clear within the commentary that that’s what’s going on here (they do).

I will now take this opportunity to quote one of my favorite synopses of a TV show ever, originally taken from tvtome (remember tvtome? god, what a great site):

Space Ghost is forced into a raw deal with the deadly Colonial Man, forever altering the future of classic rock - again. Willie Nelson and a MOCKERY of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force star in this episode. This episode mocks a great comedy show. It doesn't feel funny in the least.

Here you can see the lack of understanding for what the episode really is. Despite the fact that the ostensible Space Ghost fan (tvtome was run by volunteer submissions for it’s episode data) should one-thousand percent understand the Space Ghost connection, clearly recognize Dave Willis’ voice (he still voices Meatwad in a very similar manner), etc. The degree of confusion this episode caused can not be understated.

Nuggets from the DVD commentary:

Frylock is a guy in a costume in this. Okay, that wasn’t specifically from the DVD commentary, but it’s the first time I caught that detail, ever, and I don’t want to start a separate bullet-point list for stray observations.

Shake’s read of “blahd” instead of “blade” was inspired by a real typo in the script, just like “Branford the Branford” before it.

Todd Hanson of The Onion helped write this episode and kept pitching a character named Napkin Lad. I believe Napkin Lad actually comes to be later in the Aqua Teen series.

And another thing I love: The cool song at the end. The part where Dave is like “OH BABY, YEAH BABY” etc. towards the very end of the episode? That part gets stuck in my head like, VERY FREQUENTLY, and for years I thought it was Bob Odenkirk singing in either a Mr. Show or Ben Stiller Show sketch and have been trying to place it forever. Turns out it wasn’t Bob, but David, and I ain’t talkin’ Cross, do I sound cross to you? Do you even appreciate wordplay??

NEXT is my end-of-the-year roundup of second-run premieres, shorts, commercials, bumpers, etc. That’s right, EPHEMERA CORNER is back! But it’s gonna be a long one so I might break it up over the course of a few days, maybe a week, even.

MAIL BAG

I think these were all anonymous, please forgive me if I have, as the French say, “fucked up” by failing to name the conspirator.

2002 is almost over! What do you think brak's position on the iraq war was? Carl's? Hesh's? Junior addleburg's?

Brak: against, but respects the office of the presidency and urges using civil methods to protest. Carl: pro, he is a white supremacist and is supportive of any and all mass destruction committed on non-white nations. Hesh: HESH WANTS SOME SEX! lol. Junior Addleburg: has not been told about the war.

Do you think you are being overtly charitable to Brak this time around? Surely the best Brak show episode isnt even half as good as the worst Home Movies episode. Right?

I do tend to react to “better” Brak episodes the same way you encourage a problem student when they squeak out a B minus. There absolutely was a time when I loved The Brak Show and was all-in on it. That time was SEPTEMBER 2nd-8th, 2001. Hippo was certainly a factor. 9/11 may have also contributed.

I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I’ve been keeping a running episode ranking of Adult Swim shows as I’ve been doing this. It’ll probably get revised at some point, so I’m not exactly ready to share it. In my ranking I tended to group Home Movies episodes very close to each other, and I would sometimes talk myself into ranking things a little higher or lower than I normally would just to break up a long streak of Home Movies. So I can actually say with impunity, yes, there are strong episodes of Brak Show that I've ranked over weaker episodes of Home Movies. But I might have to have a little chat with the man in the mirror about that.

Are you only doing animated shows or are you going to do live animated shows to. I feel like most people agree Tim and Eric bringing live-action to the block ruined it permanently even if you think those guys are funny in a vacuum. I'm just wondering because I know you did animation only for your Simpsons Night B-sodes so I feel you are a "tooned-in" guy.

Live-action is getting reviewed too! I can’t WAIT to revisit Saul of the Molemen. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not sure where to draw the line on the internet stuff, though. If it aired on Adult Swim I’m very likely to cover it, but I don’t see myself covering the FishCenter repeats that aired at 4AM. Anime is generally getting the shaft. Sorry. I think it’d be cool if somebody started a blog that covered Adult Swim Action. But yes, you are right, I’m a pretty tooned-in guy. Lots of people have said this about me.

If you had to dress like any of the Adult Swim First Era characters for Halloween who would you dress as and who would you LIKE to dress as if difficulty of pulling it off wasn't an issue.

There was a Space Ghost muscle suit at one of those Halloween Stores one year and I very nearly bought it even though I had no intention of wearing it for Halloween. I did a very low-effort season 4 Hank Venture because by happenstance my hair looked like his at the time, and I found what looked like Brock’s jacket at a thrift store.

Putting on a blue Sealab uniform and only traveling in a chair with wheels would be real fun. I could probably pull of an effective Carl. As far a difficult costume I’d be the poolside announcer during the O.G. bumpers, because I imagine that he’s very muscular and his dick is real long and it’s constantly flopping out of the pantleg of his swim trunks and that it’s getting sucked off all the time by them old ladies and most of the time he’s like “no no, we mustn’t do that, for I am a professional” but every now and again he’s like “well alright” and this would reflect my experiences at whatever Halloween party I’m at except it would be a 20 year old woman dressed like an old lady because it’s Halloween. Thanks for the question.

Do you have a girlfriend? What does she think of Adult Swim or does she hate cartoons like mine.

I’m not done with the last thing. I would also have a bullhorn and I’d be using it while getting sucked off, even though that’s a discreet affair. Like, we’d find a bedroom that was empty and lock the door and I’d be like “Oh yeah baby suck my peenie, yes you are doing so good at sucking that.” in hushed tones, but into the bullhorn. I’d also use it to yell at children for wearing racist or appropriative costumes, which, as we all know, leads to more getting-your-dick-sucked. Anyway, I got a wife and we literally met at an Adult Swim event during Comic-Con! It was Tim & Eric Awesome-con 2007! I’M NOT LYING

Would you rather take one big bite out of meatwad or drink the entirety of Master Shake.

I wonder if Master Shake is warm. Anyway, I’d go with that, biting Meatwad seems like CERTAIN DEATH.

[flyfireflyfly]

A Possibility

Length warning: 3400 words

Quality warning: I haven't done any writing in so long and it just feels weird doing this. Like something has to be wrong with the story, especially since I honestly have no idea how this managed to happen at 4am.

"I'm just saying that if the guy really was a big shot athlete in college who broke national records, then you would find at least one thing about him on the internet." You set the box of dishes you had been carrying on to the kitchen counter. Tamar rolled her eyes as she began filling one cupboard with cups. "I don't think the girl who has been pining over the same guy her whole life should be giving out relationship advice." You froze for just a second and then turned towards your friend to glare at her. She glanced at you before sighing. "Okay, sorry. That was a low blow." Smacking the counter angrily, she added, "Damn it I really like him." Turning away from you, you worked on putting away the plates. "Just confront him about it then. If he admits he lied to impress you, you can work with that and warn him not to do it again. If he sticks with his story, then you know he cares more about his image than about having an honest relationship." "Hmm..." she hummed, mulling over what you said. "Yeah I suppose that works." She grabbed her empty box and tossed it towards the other boxes waiting to be taken to the recycle. "Ready to get out of here and go shopping? I need to load up on snacks and booze if I'm gonna have a housewarming party." You tossed your own empty box away. "Only if you buy me lunch first. I'm starving." Tamar laughed at that and nodded. "Deal. As a 'thank you' for helping me move in."

As soon as you walked in to the restaurant, you waved at the server and headed over to the back booth. The place you and your friends always sat at when you came in. "Hey, the usual?" asked the server. "Yep." you answered and slid in to the booth. "Except change my fries to tater tots." Tamar piped up. The server raised his hand in acknowledgment as he wrote down the order. Then he passed it to the cook in the kitchen. Drumming your fingers on the table, you eagerly waited for your food and turned your attention to the window. It was a nice, sunny day that went well with your happy mood. Today was a good day your decided. Suddenly your eyes were covered and all you saw was darkness. A breath tickled your ear briefly and someone asked, "Guess who." A shiver went down your spine, but you ignored it. Instead you chuckled and rolled your eyes. As if you could ever mistake that voice. "Hi Yongguk." The man laughed and removed his hands from your eyes. "How'd you know?" he questioned as he slipped in to the booth to sit beside you. "Please. I've had to listen to that annoying voice for years." you told him. He barked out a laugh and shook his head. Then he turned to Tamar. "You settled in?" "Yes, finally!" She let out an exaggerated groan. "You gonna make it tonight, right?" "Of course." At that moment, the server brought over your meals. The food smelled absolutely heavenly and you quickly popped a french fry in to your mouth. A small moan escaped you, causing the guy next to you to chuckle. Then his had shot out towards your plate. You went to smack his hand but you were too late. He made off with a fry and hurriedly ate it. You glared at him and scooted a couple of inches away from him, taking your plate with you. Only for him to follow you while attempting to steal more of your food. "Mine!" you exclaimed with a small giggle. You kept smacking his hand while moving away until your side was pressed up against the wall. "Come on, share." He gave you a mischievous smile. Then he was right there beside you, his body touching yours as he trapped you in the corner. "Get your own." "But sharing is caring." "Who says I care?" That earned you another laugh from him and he slid away from you, giving you some space. Tamar shook her head. "You two are unbelievable." The sever appeared again with a to-go bag. "Here you go." he said and put the meal down in front of Yongguk before walking away. Yongguk stood and grabbed the bag. "Well, see ya guys tonight." Then he left and you resisted the urge to watch him walk out of the restaurant. "Girl." Tamar while giving you a pitiful look. "Don't." you hurriedly demanded, not wanting her nagging to sour your mood. "We're friends. That's it." Another sigh. "Fine." Turning your attention to your meal, you felt your mood shifting anyways as your mind filled up with Tamar's opinion about you and Yongguk. About how good the two of you would be together as a couple. A tiny part of you agreed, but you couldn't let yourself let that part be more than a passing thought. Yes, you had a crush on your best friend. Some would even say it was a 'major' crush, and you've been suppressing those feelings for years after flirting with him did nothing. It was obvious he didn't feel that way about you so you gave up. At first it wasn't easy and it hurt like hell to be around him. Time helped ease that pain though so now there was only a dull ache in your chest when you allowed those feelings to briefly surface. Shaking your head and pushing him out of your mind, you changed the topic to Tamar's party. The two of you made a plan on how many people were coming and everything that you needed to buy.

Well, at least you tried to plan for the party. More people than you were expecting showed up and you were dangerously close to running out of drinks. The snacks were gone an hour ago. Tamar didn't seem worried about it though as she danced to the music with some friends in the living room. You sat on the couch and watched her with a grin on your face, until she beckoned you to join them. "Uh, no." you said as she stretched both arms out towards you. "No, no, no, no." Your denial fell on deaf ears as she grabbed you and pulled you off the couch while laughing. She urged you to dance and you half-heartedly followed along, causing her to laugh more. Then there was loud knocking on the door and you quickly proclaimed, "Got it!" You escaped the make-shift dance floor and went to the front door. When you opened it, you smiled in relief to see Yongguk holding a large box that was overflowing with bags of chips. "I brought supplies." he said as he walked in. "Yes!" You turned towards the crowd. "More snacks on the way!" Several people cheered as you led Yongguk into the kitchen. He put the box on the counter and began emptying it. "I figured you didn't bother with some 'just-in-case' extras." You rolled eyes. "Yeah, yeah." You grabbed the empty bowls and began filling them with chips. Once they were full, the two of you carried the bowls out in to the living room and set them on the table that was pushed up against the wall. "Dancing time!" You turned to see Tamar beckoning for you to join her again as she slowly danced toward you. You turned towards Yongguk and desperately pleaded, "Save me." "Nope." Then he pushed you. You stumbled slightly as Tamar grabbed you. Giving in, you let her lead to back to the group of people dancing while glaring daggers at Yongguk. He merely smirked at you though. With a sigh, you decided to go with the flow and started dancing. It wasn't long until you were genuinely enjoying yourself. You weren't sure how many songs had played by the time you collapsed on to a chair. "Wimp!" You stuck your tongue out at Tamar before laughing. How in the world she was still dancing was beyond you. Your legs and your feet had had enough. Though a drink sounded wonderful and groaned like an old woman as you got back on your feet. You headed towards the kitchen and came to a sudden halt in the doorway. Yongguk was leaning against the counter and he wasn't alone. A girl stood next to him and by the way the two of them were smiling, you pretty sure they were flirting. Suddenly a phone went off, snapping you back to reality. You walked over to the fridge as Yongguk pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Hold that thought." he told the girl and answered the phone. He left the kitchen and you guessed he was going to the bedroom so he could talk privately. Looking at the drink selection, you momentarily eyed the liquor before settling on a soda. Then you closed the door and you jumped. The girl had moved to stand by you. "Sorry." she offered. "You're friends with Yongguk, right?" "Uh, yeah." you replied. She lifted her right hand to show the phone she was holding. "My ride's here. You think maybe you could give this to him?" With her left hand, she offered you a napkin. Scribbled on it was the name Jessica and a phone number. "Oh. Yeah. Sure." You took it and stuffed the napkin in to your pocket. "Thanks!" She beamed happily at you while blushing a little. Then she turned and left. With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes to center yourself. This wasn't a big deal. Yongguk has had girlfriends before. Heck, you've even dated a couple of guys. The only reason it feels weird now is cause of Tamar constantly insisting that you and Yongguk should date. She was like a dog with a bone in her mouth. If only she'd just drop it. Ignoring the dull ache in your chest, you went back out to the party.

As the night went on, the party slowly died down until it was just you, Tamar, and Yongguk left. And you weren't sure how much longer they would last. They both sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, and it was obvious they might have had one two many beers. "Best night ever." Tamar stated with a lopsided grin. "Um, have you seen your apartment?" you asked and indicated the mess as you plopped down in front of them. She giggled and shook her head like a little kid. "I don't even care right now." Yongguk giggled as well and rolled an empty liquor bottle across the floor. All of a sudden Tamar sat up and fixed her gaze on you. "So, anyone catch your eye?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "What?" She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You had to have realized how many more guys there were here than girls." She smiled and lean towards you. "Did any of the single guys I invited catch your eye at all?" "Uhh..." Yongguk suddenly sat up as well. "Wait, was this a hook up party for her?" "And a housewarming. Two birds, one stone." she told him before turning back to you. "Well?" "Well?" Yongguk parroted, amusement in his eyes as he grinned at you. Feeling yourself blush a little, you shook your head. "I wasn't exactly looking for a date." Tamar sighed. "Damn girl. What am I going to do with you?" "Well if you would have said something beforehand." you told her. Then you noticed how she kept glancing between you and Yongguk. Dread welled up in your stomach as your heart started to race. "You know what..." She trailed off as if she was thinking about something that just came to her. "I think you two would look good together." A shock went through you as if someone had dumped a cold bucket of water on you. You gaped at her, not believing what she said. "Oh hell no!" exclaimed Yongguk. "That would be horrible." He gagged, as if the idea repulsed him, and then laughed. It was only when his laughter faded that you realized you hadn't reacted at all. You hurriedly smiled and forced out a laugh. "Uh, yeah. Horrible." The smile on his face started to slip though as he looked between you and Tamar. Several emotions flashed in his eyes. Amusement, confusion, disbelief, and then horror as he gaped at you. You looked away from him. "That reminds me." You dug the napkin out of your pocket and set it on the floor by him. "Jessica wanted me to give you this. You should call her." Standing up, you surveyed the living room. "I'm gonna start cleaning up." Then you went to the kitchen, pretending that you didn't hear Tamar call out your name. Going straight to the sink, you found the box of trash bags under it and grabbed a couple. You began to fill one with the empty bottles and chip bags. "Hey." You kept focused on your task. "What?" "He left." Tamar informed you. Sighing, you dropped the bag and ran your hands through your hair. "Fuck." "Sorry. I didn't..." You whipped around to face her. "Didn't what? I told you over and over again to drop it. Now look at what you did." "I just thought..." "No. Just stop." you told her. "He's been my friend for years and you fucked that up. Things will never be the same between us." Tamar stepped forward. "You don't know that." You scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Just look at the way he reacted." You mimicked his gag before giving her a dirty look. Then turned away from her and started cleaning up again. "Look, I.." "Drop it." you demanded, interrupting her. She didn't say another word as she grabbed the broom and went back in to the living room. You were very thankful that she listened to you this time. If she would have kept at it, you probably would have started yelling at her.

About twenty minutes later, you set the two trash bags down and looked around. "That everything?" "I think so." answered Tamar as she indicated for you to help her with the coffee table. You grabbed one end and together the two of you carried it to its rightful place. Stepping back, you looked around once more but didn't see anything out of place. "Let's get the trash out and call it a night." Tamar took one of the bags, leaving the other for you. "You can crash here if you want." Those magic words made your sore muscles throb. Between helping her finish moving in, all the dancing, and now the cleaning, it had been a long day. Well... that and the Yongguk disaster but that would have to wait another day. "Yeah thanks." you replied. You followed her to the front door and opened it to find a person standing there. Startled, she jumped back in to you though you barely noticed. Your heart leaped in to your throat as you stared at Yongguk. The man had his fist up, as if he was just about to knock. "Oh, sorry." He glanced at you but quickly looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Um..." The three of you stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Tamar spoke up. "I'll just take these," she took the trash bag from you, "And you two can talk." She squeezed passed Yongguk while simultaneously pushing him into the apartment. Then she closed the door. If it was awkward before, now you didn't know what to call it. He could barely look you in the eye as he shifted uncomfortably. Sighing, you said, "Look, just forget about tonight, okay? It's not a big deal. And I meant what I said, you really should call Jessica. She seemed nice." That finally made him look at you with a surprise look on his face. "Huh? Oh.. yeah. Um... But..." He furrowed his eyebrows and licked his lips. Then he took in a deep breath and closed the distance between the two of you. Before you had a chance to do anything, he cupped your face with his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You were so shocked, all you could do was stand there. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. What the fuck was happening?? He pulled back and looked at you. "Okay this is weird, isn't it?" That jolted you from your mental panic and you swiftly stepped back from him. "What? I mean, yes. Yeah. It's weird. Why would you....?" You glared at him, anger rising in your chest. "I told you to forget about it. I don't need your pity." His eyes widened. "No, no, no. That's not.." "I said it's not a big deal and I meant it. You shouldn't.." He grabbed your arms, preventing you from moving further away. "That's not what I meant!" The words you were going to say died on your tongue as you gaped at him. "I just... I..." He let go of you to run his hands through his hair as he turned away from you. "Fuck." He took a couple of deep breaths before turning back to you. "It's weird cause I never thought that this could happen." "This?" "Yeah, this." He indicated the two of you. "Us. I never thought... And now I know that yeah, it's a possibility and I don't know what to do or how handle it or..." Your heartbeat sped up. A possibility. This was possible. "Let's try this again." He stepped closer and cupped your face once more. Then he kissed you a second time. When he pulled back, the two of you shared a look. A silent agreement passed between you and you gently put your hands on his arms. "Third time's the charm." he stated before kissing you once more. Something inside you bloomed, causing a rush of happiness to well up in you. This time when he pulled away, you couldn't help but smile. "There it is." he proclaimed, smiling as well. A small giggle escaped you. "Okay, yeah. It's weird." He stepped back and laughed. "Yes! Thank you!" Then he quickly closed the distance and wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him back, relishing his embrace. The sound of a door opening caused you both to jump back, separating the two of you. "Sorry, sorry." Tamar offered as she closed the front door. "Don't mind me, I'm not even here. Just turn off the lights." She swiftly fled the living room. That did you in and you dissolved in to a giggle fit. You couldn't stop. It also didn't help that Yongguk was hysterically giggling as well. The two of you started shushing each other, which of course turned out to be counter-productive. So you did the only other thing you could think of and kissed him. That did the trick, though the small moan he let out sent a shiver down your spine. "I'd say I'll walk you home, but I really don't want this night to end." he declared. You eyed the couch and looked at him. He seemed to have the same thought as he glanced at it as well. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch and when you sat down, he scooted closer so the two of you were pressed up against each other. This time, you didn't move away. "First thing's first." He shifted a little so he could look at you better. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend." You sighed in relief. "That's exactly what I was afraid of. And, same. Always." He smiled. "Good. And... I don't have to call Jessica, do I?" You barked out a laugh before covering your mouth to silence yourself. "No. Absolutely not. I will end you." That made him laugh this time. "Good, good." Then he smirked. "You do realize this means I'm entitled to steal your fries." "Again, I will end you." He chuckled and shook his head. Then he pulled you in for another kiss, which you eagerly gave in to. The feeling of his soft lips against yours was heavenly. "Okay." you murmured. "The fry stealing is a possibility." "A possibility." he agreed before kissing you again.

[thebuckysoldier]

Identical Mosters - chapter 8

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The reader is new at the compound and doesn’t talk to anyone there. She befriends Bucky over a shared trauma all while trying to find her own place in the compound.

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: lack of food, angry Steve

A/N: Freaking finally, i finally wrote an update? Is this really happening? I guess it is. So please enjoy, to make up for the very long wait i made this chapter a bit longer then usual.

Identical Monsters - masterpage

(GIF is not mine)

The mission the next day went by quickly, the intel had been the tiniest bit wrong but everyone improvised a little and made it work. Meaning, it didn’t go by flawlessly, but it definitely could have been worse. That being said, that is also how you ended up here, on the way back on the quinjet, getting yelled at by Steve with multiple people around the table.

“Y/N what you did was reckless and dangerous” Steve’s voice sounded loud, very annoyed and also a bit angry.

“Sam could have handled himself. You had your own assignment, which, granted, you already finished it but your assignment clearly said to go back to the quinjet when done.” He continued yelling at you.

Sam was on the other side of the quinjet, Bruce was with him to take care of his wounds. It didn’t look pretty, but he’ll survive, that’s what Bruce said. At most he’d be unable to join in on missions for the next 3 months.

When you were on your way back, doing exactly as Steve had told you to do, you ran into Sam. He was being cornered but multiple guys and it didn’t look good for him. You knew what your mission was, your instructions were strict and clear, straight back to the quinjet. But, Sam needed help. So you did the latter, the two of you fought and fought, and eventually Steve found the two of you when you were about to fight of a guy at least triple your size who was about to attack Sam from behind. Steve helped out but you already knew he wasn’t happy. You just wanted to do good, you wanted to help.

“We don’t trade lives around here, Y/n.” The way he had said it caused a shiver to run down your spine. That was also the moment Bucky lost it. He had been sitting behind you, not wanting to interfere. He didn’t know if you’d want him to or not. But he couldn’t handle it anymore, not with the way Steve had been screaming at you. You didn’t deserve to be screamed at like this, you’d done well. Bucky didn’t know how much worse Sam would have been  if you hadn’t been there, probably a lot worse.

Bucky stood up as quickly as he could, slamming his fist down on the surface of the table, shocking everyone around it. Bucky then proceeded to point at Steve with the same hand he had just hit the table with. Through gritted teeth out of anger he spoke to Steve in a low voice.

“Don’t yell at her like that, Steve.”

Bucky’s voice almost sounds threatening. Steve is taken aback, it was very clear to see. Turns out Bucky hadn’t talked to him after all. You were touched by Bucky’s action, thankful as well. Steve obviously cared a lot about what Bucky thought, I guess that’s what you get for being friends since childhood. It was as if Bucky’s words had woken him up, Steve shut up immediately.



Your hand touched Bucky’s forearm, the one that wasn’t made out of vibranium, telling him that you were okay, you were all right. Your action shocked him, the soft skin of your palm felt good against his skin. Your hands were cold compared to him, but that might have been because he felt like you had just set of fire inside of him. You had touched him, willingly. He then looked at your face, trying to find any emotion and what he found was gratefulness alongside a small smile. It was nice to see you smile.

Steve was shocked by the interaction unfolding right on the other side of the table. He hadn’t seen nor suspected the two of you to interact. Steve turned around, but not before saying a last few words.

“You’re off missions. You’re not ready.”

His words hit you like a truck. It hurt. This was exactly what you were afraid of. Steve had taken an insecurity of yours and played right into it.

The first thing your mind thought was that he was right. You had disobeyed orders. You knew your tasks and choose to ignore them. Sam would never need your help, he was very capable of taking care of himself. Why would he ever need someone like you, a monster, to help him?

You gave Bucky another grateful smile, but to him you looked more devastated then anything else. You turned away from him too, only to catch the eyes of Natasha, reminding you of the mistakes you had made. Ashamed you bowed your head and took a seat in the corner. You saw Bucky glance at Nat as well before giving you one last look and then sitting down on the other side of the quinjet. He understood you needed your space right now, you wanted to be alone.

When the quinjet landed everyone went to the debriefing. You got yelled at a little more in front of everybody by Steve but this time it was Tony who stopped him.



“You made your point Steve. She knows what went wrong, and she knows the consequences.”

After that no one really said anything to you. When the debriefing was over you went to your room and didn’t come out until much later that night. You had missed dinner but you weren’t hungry anyway. But when you entered the kitchen around 10pm it was empty except for Tony and Steve sitting at the table, their voices were already hushed but when they noticed you they stopped talking all together. You quickly grabbed a banana and a cup of water and left the room again. On your way back you stopped by Sam, he was still in the medical center but he was sleeping. He looked peaceful, and not in pain, so at least that was a good thing. You made eye contact with Bruce who was still taking care of some work at the center but you quickly made yourself scarce after.

You passed Bucky’s room as well, you could see the light was still on inside and you contemplated knocking on his door to talk about today but decided against it. He probably wouldn’t want to talk to you anyway, you got him in an argument with his best friend.

Once back in your room you put the banana and the cup down on your night stand and turned off the lights. Without taking a bite or a sip you laid down in bed, but time kept passing by and sleep never came.

Around midnight Bucky left his room, he wanted to make sure you were okay after today but after he saw that the lights in your room were turned off he choose to go back to his room. He could understand, today had probably cost you a lot of energy so you went to sleep early. But oh boy, how wrong he was.

It was around 4am and you were still staring out of the window, outside it was dark but you could still distinguish the trees around the compound from the night sky.

You must have fallen asleep at some point throughout the night as you were woken up around 8am by someone knocking on the door. Climbing out the bed and opening the door you find Sam on the other side. You awkwardly tell him good morning and he returns the favor.

“Sorry for coming by this early but I wanted to thank you for yesterday, Bruce just discharged me from medical” he said, taking you by surprise.

“Bruce told me as well, but only a fool is dumb enough not to know that I would have been off a lot worse if it wasn’t for you. I know Steve yelled at you, but don’t take it at heart, he doesn’t always know what he is talking about, I’m sure many of us would agree with me. The guy is one of my best friends, and he means well but he doesn’t always show it the best way. I think you did good on yesterday’s mission, keep training and you’ll get even better. Bruce also told me you stopped by yesterday evening, so thank you for helping me and checking in on me as well.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Sam gave you another smile and then told you he was going to his own bed to catch some more sleep.

You closed to the door behind him and made your way to the shower since you hadn’t taken one last night. Once done you changed into some sportswear and put a nice sweater over it, it was the one you had worn the evening you and Bucky spent your time eating ice cream in the kitchen in stead of training like you usually did. Just as you were about to leave the room, another knock on your door caught you attention.

Opening the door again, it showed Steve this time. He cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Good morning” he greeted you.

“Good morning” you replied to him.

“Bucky helped me realize that I might have been a bit harsh on you yesterday, so I came to apologize to you. I realize that you were just trying to help, but your instructions were clear so I hope you understand why I made the decisions I made, because I haven’t changed my mind about them.”

You nod your head. “Okay, thank you Steve, for apologizing and letting me know.”

He gives you a nod back.

“We’ll look again in a few weeks to see if you’re ready”

“Okay,” is the only thing you reply.

“I- uh.” Steve clears his throat again before continuing, “I saw Bucky in the training room in case you were looking for him.” You give him a tight smile with another nod before he leaves for his own room without another word.

You close the door behind him and your gaze falls on the banana you had taken to your room last night. You really should eat something, not eating for this long is unhealthy. So you take the cup and drink its contents, then take the banana and leave your room. While eating the banana you make your way to the training room, where Steve said Bucky would be.

It wasn’t like you wanted to talk to Bucky, but you were in the need to speak to someone and you knew Bucky wouldn’t mind. So entering the gym he’s the only person you find, which is weird for this time of the day. A lot of the people living here enjoyed a early morning gym session, it was a great and healthy way to start the day. 

“Good morning,” you greeted him in a soft voice.

He looks up in surprise, you could understand why. He probably hadn’t expected to see you, since you missed dinner last night as well.

“Good morning” he said with a smile. “How did you sleep?” He then asked, watching your still tired state.

“I’ve had better nights.”

Bucky remembered your lights being off pretty early in the evening so at least you went to bed on time. Maybe the nightmares were just unbearable last night. Now he wished he had knocked on your door last night, maybe he could’ve eased your mind about the mission and you would’ve slept better.

“Did you eat?”

Another question.

You hummed while making your way to the yoga mats in the corner of the room. “I ate a banana.”

Bucky was over by the weights, watching you start to stretch. He had stopped actually lifting the weights once you came in, he was distracted. You looked tired and pale, he didn’t want to interfere but you didn’t look healthy.

“I don’t think you’ve eaten enough, you don’t look too good,” he said after contemplating if he should or not.

You let out a huff as you started to do some kind of fitness exercise.

“I’m fine, it’s just the lack of good sleep and the fact that I just woke up,” you defended yourself. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what you were doing, it was just a work out. You’d eat more after.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked one last time, continuing his own work out.

“Yeah” you answered him.

The two of you continued your workouts in silence. To Bucky you seemed to be lost in your own thoughts, he could only imagine what you were thinking about, probably yesterday’s mission. He made sure to keep an eye on your while doing his own work out, which turned out to be a good thing to do.

At one point while you were doing squats you just collapsed. Bucky didn’t know how fast to drop the weights still in his hands and run over to you. You didn’t respond to him when he called your name, your eyes were closed.

“FRIDAY, tell Tony and Bruce to come to the training room now. Say it’s an emergency and that it’s about Y/N” You couldn’t hear his voice but he sounded scared and desperate.

“I am letting them know right now, Mr. Barnes” FRIDAY replied to him.

His hand was on your cheek while his heart was pumping at a rapid pace. His mind went to all the wrong places, he knew it probably would just be the amount of sleep and food, or rather the lack of those but he couldn’t help but let his mind cloud up with ‘what if’s’.

You were still out when Bruce came running into the room, he was already dressed so he must have been up and at the lab already. As soon as he saw your state he took place next to you and checking your pulse, which was still there luckily.

As both Bucky and Bruce were bent over you, Tony arrived as well. Bucky noticed him first, he was still dressed in what seemed like pajamas, he was never really the one to wake up early. With Tony it was one or the other, he either didn’t sleep at all or slept in until like 2 in the afternoon.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony said walking over to you and letting Bruce know he had arrived as well.

“She just collapsed while doing a work out” Bucky replied to Tony.

“Any more information?” Tony asked.

“She looked pale and tired. Said she hadn’t slept well, and I know for a fact she hasn’t been sleeping well any other night. She also missed dinner last night and informed me the only thing she had eaten since probably before yesterday’s mission was a banana.”

Both Tony and Bruce nodded. That was also the moment you started to stir again. Groaning you opened your eyes only to find Bucky and Bruce hanging over you and Tony standing close and looking at you.

“Well, good morning kid, what the hell is going on?”

You blinked your eyes a couple of times before scooting away from them, creating some kind of distance between all of you. Resting your back against the wall behind you, you look at the three of them with big eyes, feeling a headache start to show up.

“Have you been eating enough lately, Y/N? You weren’t at dinner last night?” Bruce then asks.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I fell asleep so I missed it.” You told the lie so easily, you surprised yourself. You used to be so scared of lying, scared your uncle would find out and punish you.

“Buck said you said you also hadn’t slept well?”

“Yeah I woke up some time after dinner and I went to get a banana, I actually saw you then Tony, you were in the kitchen with Steve, and then went back to my room but I didn’t have the energy to actually eat, so I just went to bed instead. But for some reason I couldn’t fall asleep, I think I did somewhere around 5am. Then I woke up early this morning, because there were several people at my door and then I made my way to the gym and ate the banana.”

You told them a lot about your day, in details. Something inside of you said that you shouldn’t, but you had anyway.

“Do you often sleep bad?” Bruce continued to question you.

You didn’t really want to answer his question, because the answer was yes. You’ve had sleeping problems for as long as you could remember, often it were the nightmares, but other times you just seemed to be unable to fall asleep.

You touched your forehead with you hand, trying to ease the headache. You were feeling overwhelmed by the questions.

“How about you stop by at the lab after you’ve eaten some proper breakfast? Let Bucky help you if you’re up to it and then we’ll take a better look at you, is there any chance you could have gotten a more serious injure after yesterdays mission? Did anyone take a look at you?”

“No, I don’t think I have an injury. But I guess I’ll stop by. Thank you Bruce and Tony for coming, you really didn’t have to, I would’ve been fine.”

“It’s okay kid” Tony speaks up, “You still live here with all of us, we gotta make sure you’re okay. Now scary dude, help her get some proper breakfast, Bruce and I will see you after.”

Bruce and Tony leave the gym and Bucky speaks up.

“Well, you scared me there for a second,” Bucky said while leading you out of the training room and to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that would happen. I really didn’t feel that bad. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

Bucky really wanted to comfort you, pull you into a hug and make sure you knew you were safe and that you shouldn’t feel sorry for such a thing. The way you had scurried away from him and the others hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was sure you didn’t want to be touched right now.

As soon as you entered the kitchen Bucky ordered you to sit down, so you did as he started to make you some breakfast. He made you some oatmeal, he probably had noticed you often had it for breakfast, you liked it. He added one spoon of sugar, just like you always did. And for a nice touch he added some red fruit he found in the fridge on top. Two strawberries and a few raspberries.

“Healthy and filling, here you go” he said as he sat the bowl in front of you and giving you a spoon.

You were grateful for him, that he would do something like this for you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” You told him with a smile more genuine than it probably has ever been.

Bucky could swear his heart had made a little jump when you said his name right then.

[Chapter 9] Coming soon

[clumsyclifford]

good morning 💕 (morning for me anyway) so firstly waking up to a new spidey au part is amazing & then a cute jalex prompt is even better 🙈 also i'm very excited to listen to the happy recs 😊

anyway since i had a night of too many vivid dreams i'd like to request "33. Kiss in a dream" with lashton, please? -fiancee

good morning! except you sent this at almost 4am for me and now it’s 9pm so not really morning either way but i accept the sentiment. i’m very happy u liked the fics and i hope u like the recs <3 AND i hope you like THIS fic. i fell down a rabbit hole of 5sos family instagrams so we also get a jack scene because, you know, i love him. xoxo

-

“Had a weird dream last night,” Luke yawns, trekking into the kitchen. Jack’s sitting on the counter, looking at his phone with a mug of coffee in his left hand. 

“Yeah?” Jack says. He doesn’t look up. “What about?”

Luke frowns. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but whatever. It’s just a dream. “Have you ever kissed someone in a dream?”

Now Jack does look up, grinning. “Oh shit, really? First dream kiss! Congrats, Lukey, that’s a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Luke says defensively. He doesn’t want it to be a big deal. He has weird dreams all the time, and those aren’t big deals. Just because in this one he’d kissed his friend, doesn’t make it a bigger deal than the one where he’d been invisible in a broken-down elevator with Green Day.

“Who’d you kiss?” Jack prods, then takes a sip of his coffee. “Someone I know?”

Luke blushes. “No,” he says, except he’s always been a terrible liar.

“It totally is,” Jack says. Luke turns away, reaching for the loaf of bread on the counter and pulling out two slices. “It is! Who was it?”

“I don’t want to tell you,” Luke says, putting the bread in the toaster. 

“If I guess it, will you tell me?”

Luke sighs. “Fine.”

“Calum.”

“No, oh my God!”

“Well, I don’t know,” Jack says, holding up his hands in surrender. “Uh, Calum’s sister?”

“No.”

“...Michael?”

“No.” Luke makes a face. “Michael? Really?”

“I’m just going down my mental list of your friends,” Jack says. He gives Luke an impassive look. “There aren’t that many of them, you know. I’m bound to get it eventually.”

“Maybe it wasn’t one of my friends,” Luke challenges.

Jack waves him off. “No, it definitely was, or you’d have told me. Okay, who haven’t I said. Calum, Michael…Ashton? Was it Ashton?”

Luke reddens. He turns back to the toaster. “No.”

“It was Ashton!” Jack crows. “Hey, no shame, mate! Ashton’s cute.”

“He is not.”

“You don’t think Ashton is cute?”

Luke splutters. “He’s — that’s not the point! Stop it,” he says, pointing a finger at Jack. “I didn’t ask to dream-kiss him, okay? I’m not in control of my dreams.”

“They’ve got to come from somewhere, though,” Jack says. He grins. Jack always grins like he’s going to make fun of Luke, whether or not he actually is. “It’s fine, bro, you can want to kiss Ashton if you —”

“I don’t want to kiss Ashton!” Luke insists.

“You wouldn’t have dreamed it if you didn’t,” Jack says.

“That’s so not true! I dream weird shit all the time that I don’t actually care about.”

“Yeah, but it’s a kiss, Luke. That’s not just some random weird shit. That’s a real thing you actually dreamed about doing with a person you know. Your friend.” Jack gives him a meaningful look. “Who you think is cute.”

“This is why I don’t tell you this kind of thing,” Luke says, scowling. “It was just a dream.”

Jack shrugs. “If you say so. I don’t care.” He takes another sip of his coffee. Luke makes a face. He can’t fathom that Jack actually enjoys coffee. It smells awful. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell Ashton?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “If it was just a dream, you might as well. If someone snogged me in a dream I’d want to know.” Luke supposes he’d want to know, too. Jack has him cornered, too, because if he says no, of course I won’t tell Ashton, Jack will point a victorious finger — so it wasn’t just a dream after all! But he really doesn’t want to tell Ashton, because that’s a weird thing to tell. And even if he prefaces it with this doesn’t mean anything at all, I just thought you’d be interested to know, it’s still weird. Ashton will think it’s weird.

(Also, maybe Luke has a small crush on Ashton, maybe. And he really doesn’t want to jeopardize their friendship, which is still so new.)

“Sure,” he lies. “I’ll tell him.”

Jack shakes his head and drains the last of his coffee. “You will not.”

“Why would you ask if you’re just going to argue when I say I will?” Jack laughs. “Whatever, Luke, fine. Let me know what he says.”

“I will,” Luke says stubbornly, forgetting that this is a lie. He’s not going to tell Ashton, right? He can just make something up. Yeah, he said good for me, and everything’s aces! Yeah, right. Jack’s seen through every single one of Luke’s lies this morning. Luke should invest in lying lessons, or else he’s not going to get very far at all.

“Good,” Jack says, hopping down off the counter. “And it’s your day to take the trash out, don’t forget.”

“I know,” Luke says. Jack puts his mug in the sink.

“Have fun at band practice,” he says as a farewell, and then retreats from the kitchen, maybe to go do homework or, more likely, play Fifa. Luke scowls at his back. There’s a reason he doesn’t share embarrassing shit with his brothers (Jack, specifically) anymore.

He reaches for Jack’s mug and rinses it out so the coffee doesn’t dry at the bottom, then grabs a plate for his toast and retrieves the Vegemite. The dream is exiled to the back of his mind, and he doesn’t think about it the rest of the morning.

(Doesn’t think about how much he’d like to remember exactly how it had felt, because all things considered it’s not like he’s ever going to get closer to kissing Ashton, and already the details are slipping through his fingers, until all he can remember is the warmth in his chest from knowing that someone like Ashton could have ever wanted to kiss someone like Luke.)

-

“Okay, we need to take a break,” Michael declares, setting aside his guitar. Michael’s not the boss of them, but Luke is inclined to agree. He’s getting bored of playing “I Miss You” over and over, and anyway he needs water. “Five minutes.”

“Five,” Ashton repeats, firmly. “And then everyone back here.”

“Sick,” Luke says, also putting his guitar down. “I’m getting water, anybody want?”

All three of his bandmates raise their hands, and Luke sighs. “I can’t carry four cups of water.” “I’ll help,” Ashton says, leaping to his feet. Calum coughs, and Ashton shoots him a look. Luke just smiles gratefully, and together they head to the kitchen.

“I really like that song,” Ashton says as Luke reaches for four plastic cups from the cabinet. 

“Me too,” Luke says. “Fun chords. And the ending is cool.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says, although he probably wouldn’t know fun chords from boring ones. But Luke appreciates the effort. 

“It looks fun to do on the drums, or,” Luke makes hitting gestures with his hands, “the cajón. You know.”

Ashton mirrors his movements, laughing. “Yeah,” he says. “It is, yeah.”

“Alright, look.” Luke scowls, but Ashton just pats his shoulder, and the look disappears pretty quickly.

“It’s fine,” he says, taking one of the cups out of Luke’s hands and thrusting it under the tap. “Tap water is fine, right?”

“Unless you see someplace else to get water,” Luke says, making a show out of glancing around the room. Ashton rolls his eyes. The smile doesn’t disappear from his lips. Luke likes that about Ashton, that he’s always smiling.

“So how are you?” Ashton asks. “I mean, aside from rehearsal? How was your morning? How were you yesterday?”

“One question at a time,” Luke jokes. “Fine, all fine. I mean, I didn’t sleep much last night because of homework, and then Jack was making fun of me this morning, but you know.”

“Making fun of you for what?”

“My —” Luke breaks off. He can’t stop now, or it’ll seem very suspicious, but they’re getting dangerously close to uncharted waters. “Just a weird dream I had.”

“Ooh, I love weird dreams,” Ashton says conspiratorially, handing off one full cup to Luke and swapping it for an empty one. “What was it?”

“No, it wasn’t that weird,” Luke tries to say, but Ashton’s face starts to fall, and Luke doesn’t want to be responsible for that. “I mean, it was just — I kissed someone, in my dream. Which was really strange. I’ve never had a dream-kiss before.”

Ashton raises an eyebrow. “Get it,” he says, and Luke ducks his head, laughing through the nerves. His face is surely burning red by now. “Who’d you kiss?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Luke says emphatically. Attempting to change to subject, he adds, “Anyway, that was right after I found out I was adopted and Billie Joe Armstrong was my real dad all along.”

“Did you kiss Billie Joe Armstrong?”

“Ew, Ashton, I just said he was my dad in my dream!”

“Well I don’t know what kind of freaky shit your mind comes up with!”

“No,” Luke says vehemently. “It was a friend, oh my God.”

Ashton immediately looks more interested. “A friend?”

Fuck. “Well,” Luke says diplomatically, “more like just a person that I know in real life. Not necessarily a friend. Could be someone from school. Or, like.”

“So a friend,” Ashton says, a teasing smile on his lips. “I can see why Jack made fun of you for this. Why don’t you just tell me who it was? I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“You will laugh,” Luke says. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“Come on,” Ashton wheedles. “What’s the worst that could happen? Can I guess?”

“No,” Luke says, because that’s exactly how Jack had gotten him this morning, and he’s not going to make the same mistake twice. “Nothing bad will happen. It’s just weird, and I don’t want to say.”

Ashton rolls his eyes. They’ve filled all four cups of water now, and there’s no reason for them to linger by the sink, yet Ashton looks like he’s not planning to move. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says. “I just thought you could. Because we’re friends. You know. If you really don’t want to, then I’m not going to make you.”

Luke stares at him, guilt rolling around his stomach. That’s not fair. Ashton’s totally manipulating him, and Luke knows that, and it shouldn’t be working, and Luke wishes it weren’t working, but it is.

Fuck. It totally is.

“Fine,” Luke sighs. “I’ll tell you, but promise you won’t make it weird?”

“I won’t make it weird,” Ashton swears.

Luke worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He picks up a cup and takes a long drink from it. “Okay, well, it was you,” he finally says, looking down at the tiles of the kitchen floor so he doesn’t have to see the look on Ashton’s face.

A beat.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Another beat. “That’s nice. How was I?”

Luke looks up. “Don’t make fun of me,” he says.

“I’m not!” Ashton says quickly. He cracks a smile but it’s a little uncertain. “I just want to be sure your first dream-kiss was an enjoyable experience.” Luke groans. “This is weird,” he says. “You’re making it weird.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Well, you are. I take it back. Pretend I never said anything.” Luke takes his cup of water and moves past Ashton, but Ashton grabs his arm.

“Luke, just calm down a second. Sorry if I sounded like I was making fun. I’m just, um, I guess I’m just wondering —” He clears his throat. “Like, maybe it would be nicer in real life than in a dream?”

Slowly, Luke turns, fingers tightening around his cup. “What? Like, kissing in real life?” 

Ashton is blushing. Luke’s never seen Ashton blush before, but he’s definitely doing it now, cheeks turning patchy pink as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know. Yeah. I mean, it’s not really fair that you got to have a dream about kissing me and I’ve still never kissed you, in dreams or otherwise.”

“What?” Luke says dimly. “You don’t want to kiss me.”

“Well,” Ashton says, “I can pretend I don’t, if you want. I just thought — I’ve never kissed anyone in a dream that I didn’t want to actually kiss in real life, so I figured —”

“Yes, I want to kiss you,” Luke says boldly, over the sound of his heart battering his chest. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Ashton says, frowning. “I wouldn’t joke about this, what kind of person do you think I am?”

“I know, I just, um, you’re you? And I’m me,” Luke says, gesturing between them like this is some big revelation. “So I’m taking a moment to process.”

“Oh,” Ashton says. “Well, take all the time you need.”

Luke stares at him. It occurs to him that Ashton is waiting to kiss him, and that thought fills his whole body with butterflies. “Okay, I’m done,” he says, even though he’s not really, and could spend hours trying to reconcile the idea of Ashton as a person with Ashton wanting to kiss Luke and probably still come up empty. 

“That was fast,” Ashton says. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yeah,” Luke breathes, setting his cup of water down on the counter. Ashton smiles and shuffles closer. He presses both palms to the sides of Luke’s face, and Luke’s eyes flutter shut, soaking up the heat of Ashton’s hands against his skin. Already this is better than his dream, a hundred times better. 

Then Ashton presses their lips together, gently, and all thoughts of Luke’s dream dissipate, replaced by real Ashton, actually kissing him, in real life, in Michael’s kitchen. He’s pretty sure his hands are shaking from the excitement.

Ashton pulls away and smiles, and Luke smiles back, then ducks his head, feeling far too nervous to look Ashton in the eyes.

“So?” Ashton prompts, which makes Luke look up again. “Better than the dream?”

“Oh,” Luke says, smiling like an idiot, “so much better.”

Ashton looks pleased, and Luke hopes he dreams of kissing Ashton again tonight, just so he can wake up and remember that he’s actually done it for real. 

[excuseme-howdareyou]

Birthday Prompt: Jason

@redhoodrage

They did it again. And by 'they', he meant Bruce.

Jason didn't know if he wanted to curse, sigh, or blow up the damn thing. Maybe all three? Either way, the fancy wrapped box sitting in front of his door, done up in shiny gray paper and yellow ribbon was doing way to much to fuel his anger. And the little tag on top, with just a 'B', was a bit much.

He just got off patrol, and all he wanted to do was go home, sleep for ten hours, eat his weight in chili dogs when he woke up, and enjoy an entirely Bat-free day all to himself. Was that too much to ask? So with a grumble and a glare, he nudged the box (probably full of something stupid and expensive and fancy) with his foot a good couple feet to the right.

Once the box was out of the way, Jason unlocked his front door and stepped inside. He left the present sitting outside in the hallway.

A minute later, his door opened back up again and his arm reached out. A yellow sticky note with the word "FREE" was slapped on top, then he retreated back into his apartment.

.........................................

Jason was a light sleeper. He knew this. His friends knew this. Everyone knew this. So who in their right mind would break into his apartment at 4am, when he's only had two hours of sleep, and much more likely to blow someone's head off?!

Cassandra Cain. That's who.

Cassandra and her idiotic girlfriend Stephanie Brown. If Jason didn't have such respect for Cass, he would've called them the Dumbass Duo. But that nickname was reserved for Dick Grayson and Wally West. So it was just Cassandra and the Dumbass.

Cass was the only one skilled enough to get into his apartment at 4AM. Steph was the only one dumb enough to actually do it.

"Fuck off!" Jason roared at them, leaping out of bed with the knives he kept under his pillow for exactly this kind of trespassing. Cass silently caught the knife he threw at her face, but Steph eeped and ducked at the next one that came flying at her.

"Whoa, hey!" she yelled, ducking down behind his dresser," We come in peace!"

Upon realizing that they weren't ninjas/assassins/monsters/Untitled sent to kill him, Jason lowered the third projectile in his hand (his trusty laser-sharpened hunting knife) but did not put it down. "What," he breathed in deep, trying to blink the green away from his eyes," the fuck are you two doing here?"

Cass, still in her all black suit and really not making Jason feel all that better about the two of them breaking into his place in the middle of the night, hauled Steph out from her hiding place. "Umm, happy birthday?" the blonde laughed nervously and held up a purple gift bag. From... somewhere, Cass produced a matching gift bag in pastel pink.

Jason could only stare incredulously at the two of them. "Get out..." he whispered.

Steph blinked," But aren't you gonna-"

"GET OUT!" he roared at them.

They left, leaving the presents on the dresser.

Once they were out of sight, and Jason wasn't seeing as much Lazarus green, he took a couple deep breaths. Then he grabbed the two gift bags, walked up to the window which they exited out through-

-and from the 21st floor, dropped both bags out the window and slammed it shut.

...............................................

"Well of course he kicked you guys out!" Duke groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm," What kind of crazy...and at 4 in the.... did it just not occur to you that breaking into someone's bedroom in the dead of night is just kinda this side of creepy?"

Both Cass and Steph had the decency to look ashamed.

"We wanted to be the first ones to wish him happy birthday," came Steph's explanation," He hasn't... I don't think he's had a birthday since he was put six feet under and dug his way back out."

Not exactly a tactful way to say it, especially on such a sensitive matter, but... well she wasn't wrong.

"And it's Alfred's birthday too," Duke murmured thoughtfully," Didn't they use to celebrate their birthdays together or something?"

From across the room, Tim piped up," They used to bake cakes together."

A contemplative silence fell over the room. "No," Tim deadpanned," You're not gonna succeed in whatever you're thinking."

"I didn't say anything!" Steph protested.

"But you were thinking it."

"Thinking what?" of course, Dick chose that moment to walk in, rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

"It's Jason's birthday and Steph and Cass tried to give him a present but he refused to accept it," Duke told him, as it didn't even occur to him to not mention the elephant in the room to the man who loved elephants more than anything.

At the words 'Jason's birthday', Dick froze and his eyes lit up. At the word 'present', a devious smile spread over his face.

"Dick, No," Tim directed his glare over to him.

"Dick, yes!" said man just grinned all the wider," It's Little Wing's birthday, we should celebrate it!"

The energy in the room now sufficiently reignited, both he and Steph smiled widely and bounced ideas off each other.

"Birthday party?"

"Nah, too big. Family dinner?"

"We could make both him and Alfred matching cakes."

"I've already got them both presents."

"So did we. But... Jason threw ours out the window."

"He did what?"

"Well can you blame him?" Tim sighed," Jason's not gonna come to a birthday dinner here at the Manor, Dick." He tried to explain, and wow it was really hard to explain this to a man who looked too much like a kicked puppy," He hates it here, you know that." Jason had made it plenty and obviously clear anytime he was forced to so much as come near the place.

"And he's not going to accept any gifts you guys give him. It's Jason. He's paranoid and temperamental and he's not going to trust anything that comes from us."

Dick thought a moment, rubbing his chin in deep contemplation. Tim didn't like that look. "So you're saying..." Dick hummed thoughtfully," ...that Jason will only accept a gift from someone he trusts? Someone he actually, truly considers family?"

'Oh no,' was all Tim had time to think before both Dick and Steph exclaimed," Challenge accepted!"

"Challenge?"

Oh no, Tim thought again as Damian descended down the stairs with an intrigued expression on his face. "What challenge?" Damian demanded.

................................

Jason straight up buried his head under his pillow when there was a persistant knocking at his door. 'Go away,' he pleaded and tried to fall back asleep,' I'm not here.'

"I know you're in there,  Jason!" came Dick's voice from out in the hallway," You can't hide in there forever!"

'I can, and I will,' Jason grumbled and rolled over.

The knocking continued.

"Fuck off, Dick!" he yelled.

"No, it's your birthday and we're going to celebrate!" came Dick's reply," Now open up or I'm going to come in whether you like it or not."

There was no answer, so Dick waited all of three minutes before picking the lock. (Took a couple minutes more though. Little Wing was getting good at arming electrified locks)

The apartment was empty when he got inside.

.....................................

The day was hot and muggy and Jason loved it. Gotham would probably never feel as warm as the tropics (except during heat waves, but even then those were just uncomfortable) but he liked the warm and if it was sunny and warm, Jason could be found outside soaking it in.

Annoying, persistent Bats aside, not a bad day for his birthday. Last night he'd successfully taken down a small drug ring, got a couple messages on his phone from Roy and Kori wishing him happy birthday, and the Joker was locked up in Arkham. Now all that was missing was-

-Jason stopped dead in his tracks.

Tim Drake stood in front of Jason's favorite hot dog cart, where the owner made the best chili-dogs, with an almost expectant expression his face.

Part of Jason -a large part- wanted to spin on his heel and just march away from Tim and his stupid face and everything else Bat. But his stomach was protesting loudly and he mentally swore at Dick because he hadn't had a chance to grab breakfast before fleeing out his own bedroom window.

"I hate you," he hissed as he passed Tim entirely to get him some chili-dogs.

Tim didn't look too upset about it. "Mmhmm," he hummed, as if didn't believe a word Jason said. "So who's all harassed you so far?" he asked.

"Including you?" Jason added with a glare," Dick, Cass, Steph, and Bruce."

That last one seemed to surprise the brat. "Bruce stopped by to see you already?" he blinked," I thought he was still asleep."

Jason took a bite of one of his three chili-dogs ('The best chili dogs in town.') and very purposely didn't offer one to Tim. "Left a present on my doorstep," he answered and walked away. Tim, the asshole, kept in step with him. Though Jason took a little glee in the fact that for every one of his steps, Tiny Tim had to take two.

"What'd he get you?" Tim asked, genuinely curious," It's always something stupidly practical and mission-related. Last year he got Dick a thermal insulated Nightwing suit with built in heaters."

Jason shrugged. "Dunno. I put a ‘free’ sticker on it and left it outside." So yeah, that had definitely been taken by some stranger already.

"And I heard you threw Cass and Steph's presents out the window."

Finishing off the last of his first chili-dog, Jason turned and gave Tim the stink eye. "And if you try to do anything for my birthday, I'm gonna throw you out the window."

Tim just scoffed; not like it would be the first time. "Sorry, you're not on my list of 'People I Buy Presents For'," he replied," But I suppose I do have some kind of birthday gift for you..."

At Jason's groan of despair and annoyance, he couldn't help but laugh. "Just a warning, you drama queen," Tim added," Dick and Steph sorta... made it into a competition..."

"What kind of competition?"

"The kind where everyone in the family is going to try and get you to accept a birthday gift. The first one you accept is the winner, and you've officially come back into the fold."

"....Fuck."

..........................................

"I hear it's your birthday, ya big lug."

Great. Now he's being harassed while out grocery shopping. Clutching his basket of food closer, Jason prayed for patience before turning around and looking at Harper Row. "Whoever told you that was lying," he said.

Harper looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or scoff. "I'll be sure to tell Alfred that," she snarked back and ouch- She really knew where to hit him hard. "Anyways, I already gave Alfred his gift, so..." she held out a little red box with a white bow on top.

"Happy birthday."

Now, Jason didn't mind Harper. Not really. They never really hung out or talked, and as far as Jason knew she hadn't really done anything to piss him off. Hell, she wasn't even a Robin which went miles in his book. But then Tim's warning this morning about the competition rang through his head and Jason would be damned before he lets anyone of the Batfamily think he's one of them.

So without a word, he took the box out of her hand (she seemed genuinely surprised at that) then turned right around and found a little kid about 5 standing a little bit down the aisle.

"Happy birthday, buddy," he smiled widely at the little boy and held out the box," Here's a gift from the Red Hood, okay?" The little boy, staring up at him with wide awed eyes, clutched the red present to his chest before running off yelling," Mommy! The Red Hood gave me a present!"

Jason sauntered off out of the aisle -wouldn't do to have the mom come back and find him- with Harper on his heels.

"You know there was a taser in there, right?" she asked skeptically.

......................................

"Here."

Well, it wasn't the rudest way in which someone's shoved something in his face, but it was pretty far up there. Damian 'Demon Brat' Wayne looked like he'd be anywhere else when he sat down on the city bus with Jason and held out a perfectly wrapped present.

Jason Todd never thought he'd see the day in which Damian would willingly ride public transportation.

"Nope," he said, largely ignoring the present being shoved in his face.

The scowl on the kid's face was highly amusing though. "Just accept the damn gift," he snarled at him.

"Language," Jason found himself retorting before really realizing it," And I'm not taking it. I know about your guys' stupid contest and I'm not having any part of it."

Damian was oddly silent.

Incensed, Jason's scowl was even more impressive. "You guys seriously think you can just buy me back with some stupid things on my birthday and pretend like the past nine years hasn't happened? I know Dick's an idiot, but I expected better of the rest of you."

Damian still didn't say anything and for five city blocks, their bus ride continued in silence.

When they came to the next bus stop, the brat stood up and walked off without another word. 'Huh, not even an argument for once?' Jason thought. It was odd, for sure, but he decided to count his blessings and not dwell on it.

.......................................

All he saw was a hint of yellow, a smidgen of black...

...and the instant Jason saw Signal drop down in front of him, he threw a brick at his head.

.......................................

There was another box sitting in front of his door when he got home. This time, it was big and bright and blue. He didn't even have to look at the tag to know it came from Dick. He sighed, a put upon sigh that rattled down to his bones, and nudged the box away from his door with his foot, just like he'd done for Bruce's.

It was large and bright and had it been just a square foot bigger, he would've half expected Dick Grayson to have squeezed himself inside only to pop out with a confetti gun like some kind of smiley jack-in-the-box.

He really wouldn't put it past Dick.

So he dug his grocery receipt out of his pocket and a marker. And just like he did for Bruce's, he wrote FREE on the back of the paper, shoved it under the ribbon so it wouldn't blow away, and left it there in the hallway.

....................................

Inside his apartment is....

Well, the first thing Jason noticed was the smell of something herbal and sweet. He knew that smell. And he knew for a fact he didn't have any Oolong tea in his cupboards.

"Ah, I see you've returned with groceries, Master Jason," came Alfred's voice from the kitchen," I hope you remembered to get milk. It would appear you are out."

Wide eyed, confused, and just a little bit apprehensive, Jason stepped into his own kitchen. And yep, he wasn't hallucinating. There was Alfred, black suit and all, with a pot of water boiling on the stove, Jason's tea pot sitting on the counter, and a mug of tea in his hands.

Also spread out on the counter was a number of baking ingredients such as flour and sugar.

Jason set his bags down on the table, staring at Alfred. "What..." his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat," What are you doing here, Alfred?"

"It's my birthday, and I have the day off," Alfred answered in his usual no-nonsense tone, as if Jason had asked him what the weather was like outside. Then he poured some tea into another mug that Jason hadn't even realized was there. "Tea?" he held it out to him.

Still baffled, but he did love Alfred's Oolong tea, and well... he did love Alfred, Jason silently took the cup from him.

Alfred waited until Jason took his first long sip before saying," Happy birthday, Master Jason."

"Not you too!" Jason groaned.

There was a smile on Alfred's face as he sipped his own tea before setting the cup down on the counter. "Do you know why I'm here, Master Jason?" he asked. Alfred apparently decided to busy himself with unbagging Jason's groceries while said man tried to come up with an answer.

"Because you're in on this competition too?" he guessed sourly.

Pulling out the milk and a couple cans of soup, Alfred replied succintly," Because what I want for my birthday is to spend the day with my grandson on his own birthday."

..."I'm not really your grandson," Jason mumbled into his tea. His face was red and he felt warm and cozy inside, but he tried to not let it go to his head. He wasn't really Alfred's family. He wasn't really anybody's family. Family's not exactly his forte and time has proven multiple times that Jason Todd's never really been good at the whole thing.

Alfred shot him a look like he wanted to prove him wrong. "And do you know why everyone is insisting on giving you birthday gifts?" he asked instead.

"Because they want to win the contest?"

"Yes and no."

Great, a cryptic answer. Jason's favorite.

"Because they're a bunch of competetive fools who are bored out of their minds, so Dick and Steph came up with this stupid contest that will occupy them for a day, then everyone will go on with their lives like today never happened," Jason haphazarded a guess.

Alfred very nearly rolled his eyes, but they lit up in surprise when he pulled something unexpected out of one of the grocery bags. "Hello, what is this?"

It was a little white box with yellow ribbon, professionally wrapped, and Jason recognized it immediately. "That little brat!" he exclaimed," He must've snuck it into my bag on the bus!"

That would finally explain why Damian left without a fight.

With the knowing little twinkle back in his eye, Alfred set the present down and turned to Jason. "They want to celebrate your birthday because they care, Master Jason," he finally said," Yes, there are sadly few in this family who are any good at actually talking to each other, but you must understand that everyone, Master Bruce especially, do things for each other because it's the only way they can show that they care."

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but didn't dare interrupt Alfred. "They try to give you gifts because they know you won't accept an invitation to a family dinner," Alfred continued," Master Bruce gives practical gifts because he wants all of you to be safe. Master Dick gives hugs because to him, physical contact is how he shows his love. Master Tim doesn't get gifts for people, but he will set aside time to spend with those he cares for. And for this..." He held up Damian's little gift," While yes there is a competition going on, Master Damian snuck this into your bag not because he wanted to win some silly challenge, but because he simply wanted you to have it."

"But even more importantly, you must know this: What is the reward at the end of this contest?"

Significantly cowed, Jason sipped his tea and thought. He never really thought of it in that way. That other people showed the way they cared in different ways.

But it was still a hard pill to swallow.

"Bragging rights?" he replied, more of a quiet question than an answer.

But even still, Alfred smiled at him," No my dear boy. They get you. That's why they try so hard, because they want you know you're still part of the family."

[curiousconch]

Exit

Chapter 6 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Heather is taken hostage, but by whom? And she isn't alone. Rafael and Bryce set tries to find the missing link.

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.4k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / violence, language

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Heather was due for another week in Johns Hopkins. So even though she didn't feel up to it after last night's fiasco, she forced herself to pack her clothes from the washer and clean out her temporary room.

She snuck glances to Bryce's bedroom door, trying to muster up the courage to face him and apologize. She was drunk last night. Drunk people make the lousiest mistakes, especially when that person is an emotional wreck. Long kept secrets of the heart creep up to the surface, often loaded with regrets like ticking time bombs inevitably blowing up the next morning.

In the end, she decided not to tell him her impassioned speech about nothing good ever happens after 2am, a reference from their shared favorite sitcom. Instead, she washed and cleaned and packed, and when the time came, left without a single word. She thought it was best to leave him be, giving them both space to process what they've just revealed. They'll just deal with it after she's done with her commitments in Maryland.

So she booked a car. And with one silent goodbye, she stepped out into the empty hallways. Her steps felt heavy against the carpeted floors, feeling more and more rueful with each. She was about to turn to the elevator bay when the fire exit flew open behind her.

Before she could turn around to see, an arm grabbed her by the waist while a piece of cloth covered her mouth and nose, muffling her shouts for help. Her head began spinning almost immediately. It wasn't long before she completely blacked out.

***

When Heather came to, she only saw darkness. Her immediate reaction was to scream, only to whimper after realizing she was gagged. Panic rose within her chest, as she struggled to think straight. She tried to blink to no avail. She was living in a nightmare, and she badly wanted to wake up. So she had two choices - either be a victim or be a survivor.

She chose the latter.

With that, she began to assess her surroundings, using her limited capabilities. She could tell that her eyes were covered, and by the tingling pain in her wrists behind her, she knew she was tied up. Strangely, her ankles were free. While most of her senses were restrained, those that weren't became magnified.

Her back felt the hard floor, she banged her head against it, confirming her theory.

Concrete? Uneven. Unfinished?

She tried to stand up, her legs felt weak, almost like jelly. She tried another time, and succeeded on kneeling. She balanced herself and used her legs to stand up, one after another.

She heard the sound of plastic rustling in the wind, and the cold night air brushing against her face.

Seems like I'm somewhere cold. Is that wind coming from large windows?

All of a sudden, she heard voices. The sounds were inaudible, but she observed intense shifts in the faint conversation.

Two voices, another room? Are they arguing?

She tried to direct herself towards the voices, taking caution not to make a noise. The volume gradually increased, aiding her to understand the conversation clearly enough.

"You're one hour late and you didn't bring enough."

"Such a whiney brat. Did you get that from juvy?"

"It's a mystery why someone haven't punched you and your perfect teeth."

"Some guy already did. But you? I bet ten grand you wouldn't. You're just a piece of shit without my funding."

"Right, without your pockets lined with cash, what are you?"

"Uh, free man with lots of connections?"

The words didn't make sense to her, but the voices that threw them around sounded familiar. She strained to get closer, trying to think who they could possibly be. Before she could hear more, she stumbled, her body making a noisy thud as it quickly planted on the ground. She felt something hard scrape against her cheek, a warm liquid trickled after, then pain.

Blood.

She shifted her head sideways, her legs dangling over something she couldn't quite figure out from the thick fabric of her jeans. Then it moved.

She gasped and retrieved her legs, her mind racing.

Who is it? Bryce? Rafael?

Her anxiety rose as she struggled with the mere possibility that she wasn't the only one kidnapped. The danger of the situation suddenly becoming more grave.

Then the body elicited a groan, a sound similar with her failed attempt to scream earlier. She heard it grumble once more, and then again. It was in the third time that Heather finally figured out who the voice might belong to.

Senator Ed Farrugia's.

Like a bucket of ice, a bone-chilling realization came to her. If they went all this way to hostage the senator, what's gonna stop them from killing her?

Her panicked thoughts were invaded by the sound of steps approaching. In an instant, she felt that she was shoved upright in a sitting position. The same person grabbed her by the collar and dragged her body back to where she came from, making her bare feet blister and bleed against the rough surface. Her face touched edges of plastic as her body followed the steps of her attacker. She tried to swallow her screams in an attempt to preserve energy, but the hairs at the back of her neck gave her fear away. She was then banged against a wall, followed by silence.

A set of steps receded, probably of the person who just dragged her back to her original place. This was quickly replaced by another set of steps, producing a distinct tapping. Different shoes, different person. First one seems like running shoes, this one sounds like leather.

Without warning, her hair was pulled backwards, making her wail beneath the cloth in her mouth. She smelled the scent of cigarettes.

"You just won't go down without a fight, eh? Well good for you, doctor. This will be all the more enjoyable."

Finally giving in on her fears, she shivered. She knew that voice anywhere. It was a sound so despicable that she hated it ever since the first time she heard it. The one man who mocked her, brought her down since her intern year. Arrogant, ambitious and immoral. All the curse words in the world couldn't describe this person. It belonged to a man she never wanted to see, hear, nor be in the presence of ever.

It was the greatest scumbag of all time.

Declan Nash.

***

Rafael was in full blown recon mode for Senator Farrugia's disappearance when he learned that Heather was also missing. Elijah called in to check if she has contacted him for the last 12 hours, he wished she did, but he told him no. When he got off the phone, the conference room he was in suddenly felt crowded.

"Dr. Song is apparently missing too," he reported to the rest of the team working on the Farrugia case. "Let's find where and when she was last seen, and start from there. I have a hunch she's going to lead us to the senator." He called IT to extract Heather's phone logs and location pings before he stepped out for a moment to process this new information. He found himself slumping in the fire exit stairwell, feeling an urge to punch the wall.

When he was about to act on it, his phone rang. It was ADA Lahela.

"Have you heard?"

"Yes, I just got off the phone with Elijah."

"And Senator Ed?"

"Yes, we're trying to find leads for the past 3 hours since we were notified."

"Okay, have you checked her phone records?"

"IT is working on it now."

"Okay. She supposedly left the condo around 4am this morning. I heard her leave. That might be a good starting point."

Rafael made a mental note.

"I'm going to meet Perry. He's in the front and center of this thing. I'll let you know as soon as I come up with anything." Raf heard Bryce say, after which the line ended.

He felt like an idiot, a sinking feeling of regret drawing him in. But he couldn't wallow in it now. Not until they find her.

There's time for that later. Right now, Heather needs me.

Fired up with resolve, he went out of the desolate stairwell and worked. He immediately followed up on Heather’s phone logs and available electronic records. He also called up field agents to go down at Bryce's complex for a copy of CCTV footage for the past 24 hours.

Once the instructions were handed over, he focused on Travis Perry. He helped himself to a cup of black coffee, willing his mind to stay sharp. He pored over Perry's file, searching for anything they may have missed.

He sighed, pushing back his emotions to the back of his mind. It's quickly becoming one of the longest nights of his life.

Author’s Notes 2: When I wrote this, I thought of merging this with the next. I just felt that they're best read together. So instead of combining the two, I've decided to publish both chapters simultaneously. Both is packed, I know, even I got dizzy writing it. But I hope you'll enjoy the roller coaster ride as much as I did. Appreciate it if you could share your thoughts!

Taglist: @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @choicesficwriterscreations