#like new york was great when i was a kid and i was easily amused by huge monuments to capitalism

[blueberryblogger]

look, i love Unsleeping City but i cannot & will never be able to get behind NYC as the 'best fuckin city in the world'

haven't you guys been to Sydney? Cairns? London? Dublin? Tokyo? Seoul? Lagos? Rome? Literally any other city?

[green-eyedfirework]

"Getting slow in your old age?" Dick taunts as he leads a breathless chase through the skyscrapers of New York.  His team is somewhere behind him, getting the diplomat to safety while Dick is being chased by her would-be murderer.

He thinks he hears a distant growl, lost in the wind, and laughs in exhilaration.  There's nothing better than a rooftop chase, even if it does have high stakes.

"Come on!" Dick does an unnecessarily showy flip on his jump.  "Can't keep up anymore?"

Some preternatural instinct warns him of incoming off his left shoulder and Dick tucks into a roll on landing, twisting out of sight behind an AC unit.  A knife hits the gravel and sticks, quivering, where Dick was a second ago.

He lets out a slow whistle as he straightens to his feet, stepping back in the maze of AC units to put more distance between him and the mercenary that landed right after his knife.  "Struck a nerve, did I?  Don't worry, Slade, there are pills for that sort of thing nowadays."

"Pity the same can't be said for your mouth," Deathstroke growls.  "You ever shut up, kid?"

"Better men than you have tried and failed," Dick says coquettishly, though he's really talking about Alfred.  "Same way you failed your contract tonight.  You have a history of coming up short against the Titans--I hope it hasn't started affecting your reputation."

"My reputation is just fine, Nightwing," Deathstroke says, unsheathing his sword.  Dick tenses on the balls of his feet, prepared to run.  "But teaching you some manners will be a nice consolation prize."

Dick laughs again, high and clear, Robin bright.  The rooftop access door is five feet away and probably locked, but this is an office building, Dick can swing over the ledge and crash through the windows.  "Going to take me over your lap, old man?"

"If you ask nicely."

"In your dreams, Slade," Dick shoots back, ready to run.

"Oh I'll get you to beg, Nightwing," Deathstroke promises, voice dark and heavy.  "One way or another."

Something about his tone makes chills go down Dick's spine.  He swallows and resettles his shoulders.

"You have to catch me first!"

Dick feints for the door and Deathstroke falls for it, a half second of readjustment before he realizes Dick's going for the ledge.  With an enhanced mercenary, that's all the head start Dick's going to get.

Deathstroke almost manages to catch him while Dick's swinging over the edge of the roof, the sword grazes his right hand, slicing through the glove like butter and nearly taking Dick's fingers with it.  He ends up rolling across broken glass, hissing at the cut on his hand--it's bleeding fast and hard and Dick wastes precious seconds using his torn glove as a makeshift bandage.  He's already running, out of the office and down the maze of corridors, but Deathstroke gains easily.

The escrima sticks are pulled from their sheaths.

Dick was trained in hand to hand by the goddamn Batman, he's fought people bigger and taller and stronger than him his entire life, he knows how to use his size to his advantage.  Unfortunately, the regular rules don't apply to an enhanced super soldier, because no matter how fast and flexible Dick is, Deathstroke is always right there.

Dick has to give up his grip on his right hand escrima, hand cramping, when the full weight of Deathstroke's sword crashes into it.  The stick goes flying, Dick dodges the follow up, and goes back to running away.

"No more quips?" the mercenary drawls, amused, not even out of breath even though Dick is panting hard.  "Has the little bird finally lost its tongue?"

Another thing Batman's taught him--how to make great use of his environment.

Dick has recently discovered a cool new trick with his escrima sticks, if he can just--there.  Dick grabs the bottle of hand sanitizer and squirts it at Deathstroke.  The mercenary raises a hand to block even though he has a mask, clearly baffled.

Dick immediately attacks with the escrima, he only has a small window of opportunity.  This time Deathstroke blocks it lazily, catching the stick in the same hand.

Dick turns on the electricity.

The mercenary's suit is insulated, the voltage wouldn't do anything to him normally, but the electricity can--and does--light the sanitizer on fire.

"Hot enough for you?"

The mercenary immediately curses at the flames, momentarily distracted by getting the glove off, and Dick uses the distraction to sprint for the stairs.

He needs to get to street level and slip into the shadows, lose Deathstroke on his way back to the Tower.  They've succeeded, preventing Deathstroke from another hit, and Dick's already dreaming of a long, hot shower.

The whistling is the only warning Dick gets.

He throws himself out of the way, nearly falling headlong down the stairs as Deathstroke swings himself onto the stairway.  The goddamn bastard jumped from two flights up.

"Leaving so soon, kid?" Deathstroke mocks, advancing forward as Dick struggles to get up fast enough.  "We were just getting to the good part."

"Didn't want to outstay my welcome," Dick manages breathlessly, going down the stairs backwards to maintain the distance between them, half his attention on not stepping wrong.

Deathstroke snorts, "Doesn't sound like you."

Dick's heartbeat has begun to tick up.  His mind is flicking through plans at breakneck speed, considering and discarding and considering and discarding as he tries to figure out a way out of this one. The mercenary has the advantage, casually strolling down as Dick is forced to step blindly, single escrima waiting.

"Maybe if you apologize prettily enough, I might let you off with only a few bruises.”

"Apologize for what?"  Dick's heart is pounding.  "Your face?"

Deathstroke's posture visibly draws in, going from stalking predator to ready for the kill.  Dick goes for the stupidest--the only plan he can think of.

There's more weight to the swing of Deathstroke's sword like this, and Dick doesn't bother trying to block it head on.  He lets the escrima clatter off to the side, a necessary sacrifice as Dick grabs the railing with his injured hand and jumps--

Deathstroke's ungloved hand closes firmly around his, yanking him to a stop in the stairwell.

One breath.

His hand is burning--not the cut across the back but around his ring finger, red hot and searing.

Two breaths.

Dick looks up--intending to yank his hand free, wingding ready to slice through the mercenary's grip--and catches sight of glowing blue emanating from their clasped hands.

Dick stops breathing.  Deathstroke has been frozen still for three beats too long.

"Fuck."

Deathstroke unfreezes with a violence that takes Dick off guard.  Before he can recover from the sight of the blue glow, suppress it or ignore it to stab Deathstroke and get away, the mercenary has hauled him back over the railing, flinging him against the far wall.

The sudden loss of contact hurts worse, like pins and needles stabbing through his body, and Dick barely manages to push himself up before Deathstroke is on him again, slamming him against the wall.  The bare hand wrapping around his throat makes the prickling vanish.  Dick grabs Deathstroke's wrist and stares at the glowing blue line wrapped around his ring finger.

The glowing blue line connecting to Deathstroke the Terminator.

"No," Dick says hoarsely, barely registering how the mercenary's grip tightens.  "No.  No, it can't be, not you--"

Deathstroke's grip tightens further, cutting off his blood supply.  Black spots proliferate in Dick's vision.  He welcomes the darkness as an alternative to the growing horror, the sickening realization that this is real, that it isn't a nightmare or a delusion.

He's found his soulmate.

He's tied for eternity to Slade Wilson.

[mcrgiela]

In the comfort of her Holmby Hills home, Skye found herself curled up on the couch after her pilates session, with her Macbook on her lap. She navigated to the FaceTime app and listened as the line trilled while she awaited her fate. She hoped only her mom answered, but after news broke of her incident, she knew her father would make time to call her. Her dad, Giovanni, answered the call first followed by her mother, Nicole. It was the call she had been avoiding and she wasn’t sure if she was even ready to face it. “Hey,” Skye greeted her parents with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I see only mom made it to fashion week which means... Dad’s working. How’s everything going?” There was a brief moment of silence as her parents exchanged glances on the other end of the screen. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Yes, your dad stayed in Luxembourg for work but I’m enjoying Milan without him. It’s been fun. I can’t wait for you to see the photos.” The older woman greeted Skye. Clearing his throat, Skye’s father began to speak up. The tension between them was palpable with all the words that hadn’t been spoken. 

“Tutto va bene. We wrapped up the financial reports and things look great but I’m not sure you really care. You know… I asked you to join the company and work with me full-time but you said no and that was fine. We celebrated the 60th anniversary of Nutella but you missed that and it was fine. Now you go out and get in a fight, in a strip club of all places, and you think that’ll be fine too?” Gio questioned while furrowing his brows. “Dad-” Skye interjected quickly as she sat up on the couch.

“I’m not done talking, Skye. Your great-grandfather started this company with nothing. When I was a kid, I was shipped to a Belgian boarding school to lay the foundation for me eventually working for the family. When your uncle died, I had to take over all by myself. I wasn’t running around and getting into trouble. Our family’s been notorious for how private we are and yet, you seem to think that putting your entire life on display is amusing. If you have an issue with someone, you handle it quietly. You know that. Furthermore, you need to be more cautious of the company you keep if you feel the need to engage in senseless violence. If you don’t give a damn about this company, at least think about yours. You’re still growing. I know four shops seem like a lot, but you haven’t even scratched the surface yet. You’re operating at the level of a small business.” The male paused, acknowledging the weight his statements may have had on Skye.

Skye’s eyes welled up with warm tears as she listened to her dad. The enigmatic scorpio usually held her composure easily, but whenever her parents were expressing their disapproval of her actions, her nonchalant nature faltered. She blinked the tears away and reached for her bottle of water, taking small sips to calm her down. 

“This is our legacy, Skye - your legacy. It’s important that you contribute to it in a meaningful way. I’m very proud of you and Skye Brew and all of the other business ventures you’ve done. Your personal life just concerns me.” The well meaning patriarch softened his tone, in hopes of not further offending his daughter. “You had this phase a few years ago then things were fine but after the engagement ended, you just don’t seem the same. I have to know you’ll be okay.”

“Can I speak now?” Skye inquired, unfazed by his not-so subtle shift. “My personal life is fine. I had this one incident and you’re acting as if I’m gonna go back into my post-grad depression. It was a mistake, but I’m gonna do the show and I’m gonna continue building my empire, dad. I’ll keep consulting for Ferrero, but that’s all I feel comfortable with. I want to expand my portfolio first and I promise starò bene. Everything will be fine. Now I actually have a meeting to get to, so I’ll talk to you both later. Love you both.”

“We love you too. We need to get dinner when I come back to New York, Skye.” Nicole added while waving. “Sounds good, mom.” Skye replied with a smile. Once the family exchanged departures, the heiress sighed deeply before slamming her laptop shut.

[toastedkiwi]

Professor

Summary: newly transferred to your husband’s school, you’ve already made some friends. However, they don’t know that you’re married to the hot professor.

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader, Wife!Reader

You had transferred to your husband’s university that he works at a couple weeks ago. You even managed to get into one of his advanced classes. He’s pretty proud of you and he loves seeing you sitting next to this redhead whose become one of your friends. You aren’t the greatest at making friends and he’s very happy that you found someone other than his friends. His are complete maniacs and you’re the youngest in the group. You had just turned 21 and Bucky’s 30. His friends are all around the same age or older.

You met Bucky when you were just 19. Your ex best friend dragged you to a club you didn’t want to go to and weren’t legally allowed in. She made you wear a tight dress and heels. She straight up left you at the club after ten minutes of meeting a guy and insulting you. This guy grabbed your ass which made things worse. He tried taking you home but this blue eyed man swooped in while his buddy Sam just flirts so hard with the guy while Maria, his now wife, watches from a foot away.

“There’s a party tonight,” Natasha said as the two of you sit down. “Wanna come?”

“Can’t. Got a hot date tonight,” you said knowing that Bucky overheard you as he starts writing on the white board.

“With who?” She asked.

“This guy named Luka. He’s really sweet,” you said.

Bucky smirks knowing you and him are going to have a fun time picking up after the 6 month old tonight. You and him have planned to have a nice movie night in with Luka and Alpine the cat. He honestly cannot wait. It’s the highlight of his week and he always looks forward to it.

“Does he go here?” Natasha asked.

“No, he’s actually a New York firefighter,” you said since the six month old loves the plastic helmet that his Uncle Sam got him.

“Damn, what are you even doing here when you could be with the firefighter right now?!” Wanda asked from a row behind.

“I sadly cannot fail this class,” you said.

“If only Professor Barnes—,” Natasha said glaring daggers at the back of your husband’s head.

“Glaring at me won’t change the F you got your freshmen year, Ms. Romanoff,” Bucky said loud enough for everyone in the lecture room.

“You could’ve given me a C!” Natasha sassed back.

He spins around and said pointing at her, “you didn’t show up to class. Don’t be a bad influence on the transfer student.”

Natasha scoffs crossing her arms over her chest while you giggled. Bucky obviously flashed a smile at you and you grinned wider. The two redheads quickly noticed at how fast he favors you. Bucky easily starts class as the last student sits down.

~~

“You should be careful. Professor Barnes is married,” Wanda said as you, her, and Natasha walk through the campus courtyard.

“I know,” you said and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t even try with that DEMON of a human being,” Natasha warned. “He’s absolutely terrible.”

“You’re just mad that you have to retake this class,” Wanda said. “Also, Y/n has a hot firefighter boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure Professor Barnes is not that bad,” you said.

“Awww, you’re so innocent,” Natasha mocked.

You rolled your eyes thinking if she only knew. You haven’t said anything about being married to the professor to anyone except the university’s dean of students. You just want a pretty normal college life besides the fact that you’re married and have a kid with a man nine years older than you.

“Ignore her,” Wanda said. “But we’ll see ya next class.”

“Bye,” you said splitting from the two.

You head straight to the parking lot where Bucky parks his precious Audi Rs7. You try opening the passenger door but you forgot to get the keys from your husband. He usually gives you them as you make sure to be the last to leave and so he can kiss you without watchful eyes but Nat and Wanda got you to leave before you got the car keys.

Twenty minutes later, your husband comes with the keys spinning on his finger and his briefcase. He gives you a cheeky smile.

“You can drive, dollface,” Bucky said tossing you the keys.

You catch them and unlock the car. You go to the trunk with Bucky. You open it up. You put in your backpack and he puts in his briefcase. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Oh, I called the jewelers before my first class,” Bucky said as you both went to your separate sides.

“What did they say?” You asked.

“Your ring will be done tomorrow and we can pick it up,” he said with a smile.

You grinned and got into the car. Bucky slides in and closes his door. You close yours and adjust your seat. You both buckle in. You start the car.

“I liked how you used our son as your excuse to not go to a frat party,” he said.

“He’s a great excuse. I would’ve said you but I don’t know how Nat would react to me being married to the professor she hates most,” you said backing out of the parking space.

Bucky chuckles pulling out his phone and said, “she’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know about that, James,” you said biting your lower lip.

“Don’t worry, babydoll. She’s a pain in my ass but she’ll stick around you,” Bucky said as you drive off. “Wanda will too. If not, you’re stuck with me and the boys.”

“Oh Jesus,” you said.

~~~next week

You carry Luka into the lecture room and you’re the first one in besides Bucky. Luka is not feeling too great and you couldn’t leave him at the daycare. Bucky left in an Uber before you due to two of his classes starting before your two of the day. Luckily, you got Bucky’s class first and know that he’ll let his little man into the class without hesitation. It’s quite a perk to be married to your professor.

“Hey..,” Bucky said and he’s immediately concerned seeing Luka in your arms.

“They wouldn’t let him into daycare,” you said softly. “He’s got a cold.”

Bucky takes his whimpering boy out of your arms holding him against his chest. He rubs his back.

“Why don’t you sit up in front today with my little man?” Bucky suggested. “You’d be closer to the door.”

“That was my plan,” you said quietly. “Are you staying longer today?”

“Nah, I don’t need to but I can take Bubba back to my office until you finish up your class with Banner,” Bucky said. “So that we can all go home together.”

“Fine by me. I brought extra clothes and tons of diapers in case as well as formula,” you said.

“Alright, I’ll let you go sit down with Lu,” Bucky said.

He tries giving you Luka back but he just cries. Bucky holds him back against his chest. He cooed at his little one.

“I brought the carrier,” you said smirking.

“You better pull it out, darling,” he said.

Soon enough, Luka is strapped to Bucky’s chest, you got your kiss from your husband, and you’ve planted yourself at the end of the first row. You’ve pulled out your notebook and pens, highlighters, and mechanical pencils. You took out your phone and get a picture of Bucky with Luka. Your backpack along with the diaper bag is under table.

Classmates start coming in. Wanda and Natasha stroll in as well.

“Who’s baby did you steal?” Natasha asked as Bucky is writing on the board.

“First of all, that’s kidnapping and I have better morals than that,” Bucky said looking at the two redheads. “Secondly, why steal a baby when I can make my own with my wife?”

“Oh my god, disgusting!” Natasha said racing up the stairs in the middle to her regular spot.

You laughed along with others in the room. Wanda goes up the set of stairs nearest the door and slides into the swivel chair next to you.

“That’s sparkly,” Wanda said pointing to the ring on your ring finger.

“I know,” you said grinning.

“When’s the big day?” She asked.

“Why are you sitting over there?!” Natasha asked.

“It’s near the nearest exit,” you said.

Natasha groans and picks her stuff back up. She heads over to the two of you and sits next to Wanda.

“So, When is the big day?” Wanda asked.

“Already? You’re so young and innocent,” Natasha said.

“Ladies,” Bucky said sarcastically. “I’d like to start my class unless you have more pressing matters.”

“Sorry, Professor,” you said and he gives you smile.

“Alright, I have a special guest with me, my son Luka. He’s just six months old if you’re curious and no, I didn’t steal him,” Bucky said to the class. “Hopefully, we’ll get through the lesson with little to no disturbances from him.”

Natasha and Wanda turned to you immediately as your husband proceeds with the lesson. You ignore their looks even though you find it quite amusing.

Once the class gets dismissed, you take your time packing up. Wanda and Natasha sit and turn to you. Bucky comes over without hesitation. There’s no point in hiding it any longer.

“Do you have the diaper bag?” Bucky asked. “Luka took a shit and I’m scared it’s the explosive one.”

“Yeah, I got it,” you said standing up putting your backpack on and grabbing the diaper bag.

“Seriously? This whole time?” Natasha asked.

Bucky takes the diaper bag and said, “yeah.”

He gives you a quick kiss before heading off.

“Wow,” Wanda said.

[hangovercurse]

Live from New York

You’re hosting SNL and get close with one of the cast members

Request: “hi! can you do something about pete where the reader is hosting snl and throughout the week they’re flirting with each other but she’s unsure if they should date and he convinces her? maybe a combo of fluff/angst/smut? it can be whatever :,)”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to take that long on this one and then I ended up watching an entire documentary on the making of an SNL episode because I wanted to be as accurate as possible… someone stop me pls

Word Count: 2834

Monday

Despite being a swiftly rising actress, you hated being the enter of attention. You’d always gotten anxious as a kid when a teacher made you stand in front of the class for presentations or during first-day introductions. So being front and center in a room of 30 people who were all there to study and try to impress you was not something you found pleasant.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You spoke timidly to the crowded room, people clapping from their spots on the floor or various couches around the room, “it’s great to be here.”

Lorne cleared his throat, “alright, let’s start with you, Anna.”

You looked around the room as a young woman pitched the first sketch of the night, listening intently to her ideas while trying to match faces with the names Lorne had given you earlier. Then your eyes locked with a pair of deep brown ones, the man wearing a soft smile on his face. He radiated gentle energy despite the tattoos you could see running down his arms.

The pitches continued with an air of lightheartedness and fun. You found nearly everything funny, so you couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were going to cut any of the sketch pitches.

After a lull in ideas, Lorne announced that cast members could now pitch ideas for Weekend Update character appearances. The man you’d taken an interest in earlier, who you’d since learned was named Pete Davidson, pitched a new set of characters for you and him.

“You know those weird stoner kids in high school who were always hanging out in the parking lot and acted really weird and mysterious? Those characters who just give really vague answers to anything you ask and act like they’ve seen some shit when they have the most normal home lives.”

You giggled, knowing the exact kinds of kids he was talking about. Colin and Michael also chuckled, writing the idea down with some notes of their own. Soon after that, everyone went back to pitching regular sketches, Jost and Che pitching an unusual number of sketches featuring you and Pete.

After a few long hours, the session wrapped; everyone leaving the office space except for you and Lorne, “so, what did you think?”

You chuckled lightly, “you have some seriously talented people on this show, Mr. Michaels. I don’t understand how you guys write an entire show every week.”

“We all work very hard; I’ll tell you that. Now, talk to me. Anything you really liked or really hated?”

You shrugged, “you’re the comedy mastermind, I know nothing. But I thought that weird kids from high school bit was pretty funny.”

Lorne nodded, “So did Jost and Che it seems. Sometimes the kid has a good idea.” You giggled at his reference to Pete as “the kid.” He sighed, “anything else? I noticed you liked that proposal sketch.”

“Yeah, that one was super funny. I will say, I wasn’t too in love with the dad-teacher one, but I would have no problem with it being done with someone else as the daughter.”

Lorne and you spent the rest of the workday discussing the different sketch ideas that came up and gauging what type of comedy suited you best. Before you left, he introduced you to Donna, your dresser who would be helping you out throughout the week.

Tuesday

After a quick tour of the studio by Donna, you were given a list of cast members and writers who wanted to meet with you to get ideas about sketches. You first stepped into a small room with a desk and futon, Donna introducing you to Chloe Fineman and Celeste Yim.

Chloe smiled brightly at you, “okay, so we were thinking that we could do something where I bring you to a sleepover with some friends that you don’t know. But at some point, you try to go to sleep because you have a soccer tournament in the morning but everyone else is being loud and it turns into this big overdramatic argument.”

You giggled softly, “I love that!”

After writing with them for a while, you were whisked away to room after room, finally landing in Colin Jost and Michael Che’s office, where they were hunched over a computer with Pete.

Colin smiled at you, “hey Y/N, how’s your day been?”

“Busy, how are you guys?”

The men responded with variations of “good,” before Michael spoke, “I know it’s late, so don’t feel obligated to stay longer than you’re comfortable with.”

You shrugged, “what time is it? It doesn’t feel that late.”

Pete laughed, teasing Colin and Michael, “c’mon guys, don’t you know that the young people of New York don’t sleep?”

You giggled in agreement as Colin frowned, “I’m only 38, that’s not that old.”

“I’m only 26, Colin,” you said, laughing at the men.

Michael patted Colin on the shoulder, “Jost, we’re getting old.”

Colin frowned before clearing his throat, “anyways, we had a couple ideas for some sketches with you and Pete, if you’re up for it, and we wanted to hash out your weekend update appearance.”

You smiled and nodded, “yeah, that sounds great.”

The rest of the night (and into the early morning) was spent with the three men, eventually joined by Heidi Gardner and Kyle Mooney to work them into the scripts. A majority of the writing process was simply messing around with various sketch situations until someone found a joke that worked best.

Pete watched you carefully the entire night, doing everything in his power to make you laugh. You had no complaints, doing your best to not openly flirt with him in front of the rest of the cast (and failing quite miserably).

Wednesday

Wednesday was the designated day for the roundtable readthrough. You took a place between Pete and Lorne, who began the reading, “we’ve got 41 sketches so let’s get started.”

The table read was just like any other you’d been through; Lorne wasting no time between sketches to discuss or joke. You struggled with containing your laughter throughout the reading, trying to act professionally. It didn’t help that Pete was making jokes any chance he got, eliciting even more giggles from you.

The three hours seemed to take no time at all as sketch after sketch was read out loud. Every so often you would catch Lorne looking at you with an eyebrow raised, usually after you read one of the sketches with Pete.

After everyone was dismissed, you were led to Lorne’s office with the head writers and producers. There was a large wall covered in sticky notes with each sketch’s name written on one. Lorne turned to you, “what do you think?”

You scanned the wall, listing off some of the sketches that you really liked, though most of them were  great, so you had trouble narrowing them down.

Lorne let out a small laugh, “you guys noticed how she picked out the sketches with Pete in them, too, right?”

Your face went hot, immediately turning to face the ground. Colin and Michael chuckled, “we noticed,” the latter commented.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, Y/N, just wanted to point it out to you.” Lorne teased before turning back to the wall and thinking.

You giggled, “you guys suck.”

As embarrassed as you were, your anxiety was surprisingly low. You had been worried about hosting since you got the invite, but the cast and crew had been nothing but kind to you. Even just being able to make jokes like this with the writers made you feel oddly comforted.

You worked on narrowing down which sketches to keep for rehearsals and which ones were going to get cut immediately, a job that was very easy for Lorne but very difficult for you.

Eventually you got it down to enough sketches that Lorne was satisfied and he sent out the list to the cast. He led you out of his office, “you know, you have a real affinity for comedy,” he told you. “I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about sketch comedy, but from that read through you seem to know what you’re doing.”

You blushed slightly, thanking him, “we’ll see if you’re still saying that on Saturday.”

He chuckled, “have a good night.” You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, running into none other than Pete Davidson.

“Hey, you headed out?”

You smiled, “yeah, just got out of my meeting with Lorne. Did you get a chance to look at the revised sketch schedule?”

Pete nodded, walking with you to the door of the theater, “yeah, I noticed you kept a lot of our sketches in there,” he bumped your shoulder, a playful smirk on his face.

A giggle rolled from your lips, “what can I say? We’re funny together.”

He raised an eyebrow, watching as you flagged down your taxi, “whatever you say.”

“Are you complaining about having to work with me?” You asked, opening the door.

He chuckled, “oh yeah. I am just dreading tomorrow.” Sarcasm laced his words, making you laugh.

“Goodnight, Pete.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Thursday

Donna ushered you around all day, making sure you were in the rehearsal space when you needed to be and supporting you from the side. This part of the process came naturally to you, as it was the most similar to rehearsing and filming on movie sets.

When you weren’t rehearsing a scene, you were hanging out with Pete. It was strange how easily you got along, your humors aligning almost perfectly. Not to mention he was a huge flirt and was making it more and more obvious with you. You flirted right back, earning looks of amusement from Lorne throughout the day.

The day was a whirlwind, and by the time you were able to go home, you were exhausted. Pete walked you out to the street again, talking about one of the sketches that went wrong earlier until your taxi pulled up. This time he opened the door for you and helped you inside, “see you tomorrow.”

You smiled up at him, “bright and early.”

Friday

After hours of rehearsing, you plopped onto the couch in Pete’s dressing room, where you had found yourself a home over the past few days, “I don’t know how you guys do this every week. I’ve been here for four days and I’m exhausted.”

Pete chuckled, “to be fair, you’re the host. The key is to try and only get one sketch into the show so that you don’t have to do anything during the week.”

You laughed, letting a comfortable silence fall over you. Pete studied you, taking in your tired appearance, “you’re doing great though, being a host. I’ve seen some people come in and try to take control of everything and then no one has fun. You’re really good at just letting the comedy speak for itself. Not many people do that.”

Shrugging, you responded, “I mean, I’m not a comedian, I’m just an actor. You guys come up with everything. I don’t know enough to try and control things around here, I just do what I can to make your visions come to life. I figured that’s what a host should do.”

Pete nodded, “yeah, but again, a lot of people want their SNL episode to look a certain way. You don’t seem to care.”

“I just want to have fun, honestly.”

He smirked, “are you?”

You looked up to him with a smile on your face, “definitely.”

Suddenly the speaker in the room rang out, “Y/N and Pete to main stage 1.”

Groaning, you lifted yourself from the couch, Pete watching you with amusement, “c’mon Ms. Host, we’ve got a show to rehearse.”

Saturday

The day was hectic; filled with rehearsal after rehearsal. Lorne and Donna made sure that you were comfortable all day, but you could feel the stress radiating from every inch of the studio.

Stronger than that, though, was the sense of excitement buzzing around everyone. You were fit into more costumes than you could count, all leading up to the final dress rehearsal of the night in front of the live studio audience.

Dress ran smoothly, but you could see Lorne cutting lines from sketches from stage out of the corner of your eye. Luckily, Pete distracted you from all the anxious energy. “I know Lorne looks like a psychopath, but that’s just what he does. Everything’s fine, don’t stress about it,” he said over dinner.

You chuckled, “thanks. I feel so out of my league this week.”

“I told you, you’re great. Everyone here loves you. I heard Lorne talking about wanting you back as soon as possible.”

Rolling your eyes, you responded, “yeah right, I’m never gonna do anything big enough to get me on this show again.”

Pete laughed, “you could always make guest appearances with me on the Weekend Update.”

“You aren’t sick of me already?” you joked.

After dinner you were paraded around by Donna, who got you into your style for opening monologue. She smiled at you through your dressing room mirror, “how are you feeling?”

You gave her a nervous smile, “terrified, but ready.”

The lady chuckled, “you’ll do great. I’ll be right offstage if you need anything.”

“Thank you, for everything this week.”

She squeezed your shoulders, “don’t mention it, though if you really want to thank me, go ask that Davidson boy out on a date.”

Your eyes went wide, “Donna!”

A chuckle rang out through the room, “what? I say it for your own good.”

She led you through a maze of hallways and tunnels until you were in place to walk onstage, the speaker announcing your name to the audience followed by cheers.

Exactly 90 minutes later you were gathered with the cast on stage, “thank you to Fletcher, Lorne Michaels, this amazing cast and crew, and thank you all for watching. Goodnight everybody!”

You turned to Pete, who was standing beside you and let him pull you in for a hug, “you did it!” he cheered.

You passed around the cast, giving hugs to as many people as you can before Lorne announced, “that’s a wrap on Y/N Y/L/N and Fletcher!”

Everyone cheered, clapping for you and your musical guest before heading to their dressing rooms to change into their night clothes. You went back to your own dressing room, taking a moment to bask in the feeling of accomplishment.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your haze, “come in!”

Pete entered the room, a wide smile on his face, “congrats!” You let him pull you in for another hug, “so I know that there’s supposed to be this big party after the show, but I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner instead?”

Your breath got caught in your throat, those words being the last thing you expected to hear from him. Of course, you wanted to say yes because you did, truthfully, really like him. But part of you was hesitant.

You’d dated your fair share of celebrities, and things always ended very publicly and typically poorly. On top of that, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be happening a bit too quick. You started to doubt that he would still have feelings for you in a week since he wouldn’t be around you nearly all the time.

And then there was the issue of your insane work schedules. Having just lived through his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep a relationship like that.

“Pete, I think you’re amazing and I really like you, I just-“

Pete nodded his head, cutting you off, “I know we only met like a couple of das ago, but people go on dates with literal strangers all the time.”

You sighed, “it’s not that, Pete, it’s just that…” you paused, searching for words, “things like this tend to be very public with me, and I really don’t want to have a relationship where there’s all this pressure by the media to be perfect.”

He shrugged, “I get that, but it’s just dinner. And we can go somewhere quiet and private, no one has to know. And if things go further then we’ll just keep it on the down low until you’re ready. Trust me, I know what a public relationship is like, I’m not a huge fan either.”

“Yeah, but what about your work schedule. I mean, I’ve only lived in your world for six days and I want to sleep for a month. How do you even hold a relationship on this schedule?”

Pete moved closer to you, fingers grazing your arm, “we can make it work. I promise. Just give me one date, and if it’s not the best first date of your life, you have no further obligations to me.”

You giggled lightly, leaning into his touch, “I’m only saying yes because you’re kinda cute.”

He smiled down at you, eyes twinkling, I’ll take it.”

[stathen]

Random Avengers Headcanons Pt1

Natasha and Bucky - after fighting with each other for some time - eventually bond due to their mutual love of motorcycles. They talk regularly, giving each other tips and tricks on how to perform certain stunts. Natasha pays Bucky to wash her motorcycle every weekend, and Bucky can always rely on Nat to fix his in return. Steve finds it strange, but also kind of amusing.

Still on the subject of Bucky: he’s an incredible cook. In civil war, a lot of people pointed out his cooking utensils. I like to believe that Steve could NOT cook for shit in the 40’s so Bucky learnt how to from the elderly neighbours next door. His favourite thing to cook - though very basic - is scrambled eggs. He used to serve them up as breakfast the morning after Steve had another attempt at being recruited rejected. Now, Steve insists he makes them for the entire team whenever he’s around.

Not a personal one but I just love it. Sam began sticking notes onto Bucky’s arm as a joke to piss him off. Normally the notes were playfully insulting. But after they become an item, Sam continues to stick the notes onto Bucky’s arm, this time with nice little messages and reminders to take care of himself.

Peter Parker realised one day that the avengers are just really fucking sad. So he organises a weekly movie marathon that showcases at least two of everyone’s favourite movies each week. So far, the most diverse and funny selection was Scott Lang’s (Mean Girls because he enjoys the drama and Polar because he gets all giddy over the weapons)

Steve likes photography. Like, really likes it. He’s weirdly good at it as well. One day he notices Wanda looking a little down, so he takes her around the nearby woods to teach her to take photographs. She ends up with a new hobby, and she in turn becomes almost as good as Steve.

Strange and Tony have been permanently banned by both the avengers and Pepper from talking to each other before midday.

Tony was so petrified when he found out he was going to be a dad. It’s not that he didn’t want it, because of course he did. It was more to do with the fact that Howard and the affect it had had on his life still lingered in his mind, and he didn’t want to be that kind of father towards his kid. When Morgan came along, he completely proved to himself that he was the opposite of his dad. He put in the hours and gave up time to spend with Morgan so he didn’t immerse himself in his work like his father had. Tony is a great dad.

Bruce constantly fiddles with things in meetings. He’s always taking pens apart and putting them back together again or running his hands through his hair or staring out of windows. He gets distracted easily, unless he’s working on a project he cares about.

Natasha has devised multiple ways to kill everyone in her spare time. Each way was crafted around their flaws so if would bring about a satisfying end, should they betray her. The only people she hasn’t imagined killing are Clint and Maria.

Peter Parker taught Shuri deez nuts jokes. She made T’Challa fall for one and he tried to have her taken back to New York. It was all jokes, but the Queen wasn’t very happy.

Sam cannot go a day without singing ‘what a man, what a man, what a man, what a man, what a mighty good man’ under his breath.

[absurdthirst]

I’m resubmitting something that might have been lost in the purge. Whiskey watching someone being hit on with great amusement when they reply “Tender what?!” to being asked if they were on Tinder and making his way over to try his luck. That other guy wasn’t your type but perhaps he just may be. 😏

***I LOVED THAT SCENE!!!

The Shot

It wasn’t often he found himself at a bar anymore, unless he was down in Kentucky. The cocktail hours and mingling of New York never seemed to sit with Jack. Too polished and so damn complicated. Talking about Tinder dates and stock market analysis when all a man really wanted was a stiff drink and pretty girl to flirt with, and if he was damned lucky, to take home.

Still, the loneliness got to him sometimes. The large penthouse apartment that echoed drove him mad. It was supposed to be filled with kids and a wife, but that future was dead and buried. To escape it, the reminder that he was alone, he ended up here.

It was a hole in the wall. As most good bars were. Crowded, and lacking the peanut shells or sawdust on the floor from back home, it still had that vibe that they weren’t as plugged into technology as the rest of Manhattan. No credit card machines or fancy martinis. More like whiskey and beer and a dim corner to sit in.

That was where he was, nursing his third whiskey. He’d already talked to the barkeep about carrying Statesman, but he supposed this would do in a pinch. He had already spotted you across the bar, nursing what looked to be a Guiness. He always did admire a woman who could drink beer.

He watched as a suit walked over to you. Obviously enjoying his happy hour after a day of trading stocks on Wall Street. Not looking anything like your type by the way that you looked him up and down, your eyebrow lifted as he introduced himself.

Jack smirked when you shook your head, turning down his offer of a drink. Lifting your beer in salute before taking a swallow. “I can buy my own, thanks. And I don’t drink Cosmos.” Feisty, just the way he liked ‘em.

He had to hand it to the guy, even when he was stuck down, he got back up in the saddle. The cocky man, who obviously thought he was better looking than you realized, leaned against the bar and shot you what was supposed to be a lady killer smile. “I’ll swipe right for you baby.”

A big grin settles on his face when you say something, a little too low for him to catch but the suit’s face says it all. You have no clue what the hell he’s talking about. Jack leans forward, very interested now, since his own blunder with that infernal dating app a few months ago.

“Tinder.” The suit says, frowning. “Swipe right on Tinder?”

“Tinder what?’ That makes him laugh, setting his drink down on the table and standing at the confusion in your tone, paired with annoyance.

“Tinder, the dating app?” He tries again, still not willing to give it up.

Jack decides it’s time for him to step in, the man obviously not realizing that he’s blown his shot. He is not your type. Although, given what he has observed, maybe Jack is. He makes his way through the bodies easily, his own tailored clothes were neat but far different from a suit. A dress shirt and jacket, sure. But it was paired with a bolo tie and jeans which were cut to fit his lean frame and cowboy boots.

Making his way behind you, he notices the suit’s eyes shift over to him and he gives a rueful smile. “Hey honey.” He says, drawing your attention. “Sorry, I’m late. Had a hell of a time getting out of the office.”

Your eyes widen in recognition of his play and he sees the mischief in them, making his lips twitch. You grab onto his offer like a lifeline and hand on tight. Turning your body towards him, you hold up your beer for him to take a sip, a silent challenge in your eyes. “It’s okay, baby.” You tell him poutily. “You will just have to make it up to me, making me drink all by myself.”

Jack does smirk at that, the twist of his lips hidden by the glass as he takes it from your hand and takes a healthy swallow, the foam catching in the edge of his mustache. He looks past you to the suit and offers his hand. “Daniels, my man.” He offers. “You are?” Grinning when the suit quickly makes an excuse and turns around to leave.

Looking over at you, he raises his eyebrow. “Wonder what made him light out of here like a cat with a firecracker tied to his tail?” He muses, making you smile. He takes another drink of you beer and then looks around to the barkeep to catch his eye. “Another for the lady.” He asks, looking down at you with a questioning look. When you nod, he grins and leans against the bar.

“I promise you I don’t know anything about Tinder.” He says, laughing at your relieved expression.

“Perfect.” You say as the barkeep sets your beer down. “Have a drink with me and I’ll decide if I’m gonna buy you dinner.”

Jack raises his eyebrows and grins, lifting the beer you had handed him when he walked up to you. “Yes madam.” He nods his agreement, looking like the shot he took was going to pay off.

MasterList

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[manyfictionsmusings]

Pull Me Like A Ripcord

Summary:

This story takes place immediately after the events of X-Men Apocalypse, where Peter decides against going back to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, despite seeking his father’s attention prior. This fic will just be growing and “mutating” as I write but promising lots of Dad/son angst, hurt/comfort etc.

Chapter 1: AfterEffects

As naïve as it was, Peter had hoped Erik would somehow realize he was his son, now that idea seemed cold and stupid. Why would Erik magically know who he was? He wasn’t Charles, a mind reader, and this wasn’t a fantasy kingdom where the orphan got his father in the end of the story.

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, or at least he would have if he could have moved his shattered knee, the pain, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the long day sent him easily to tears. He wasn’t used to losing, he wasn’t used to being physically injured. The finale of the Egyptian battle had seen the x-men triumph, but Peter himself had lost…lost another chance to connect with Erik, if only he’d been able to get the better of the Immortal it might have impressed his father enough to take note of him, but instead if it hadn’t been for Raven’s distractions, the Beast’s strength and his own father’s shift in loyalties, he would have been just another victim in the note book of Apocalypse.

Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to force the events to wash over him, normally things didn’t bother him, but the last few months he’d changed, the others here at the school, or what was left of the school…he didn’t want to call them family but that’s what they felt like to him. It scared him and it was too much to hope for, he’d been disappointed to many times to open up like that. Which was why he’d told Beast to take him to a regular hospital in Cairo and he’d make his own way home once he was healed.

Beast had had his reservations about it, leaving the scrawny, pale kid who’d been with them since he’d saved literally everyone at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters seemed a shitty way to repay him, but he’d finally consented to it, only after Peter had gotten angry and started yelling.

He felt lonely now, in the hospital bed, with an oxygen tube in his nose and his injured leg casted and hoisted by a sling, a thousand miles from anyone he knew, but the pain was reminding him of his failures as one of the x-men and the isolation served to remind him why he didn’t bother with people, especially his father.

They always left. Or were never there to begin with.

He deserved this.

“You don’t deserve any of this, Peter.”

Peter jolted, startled for only a second by the gentle voice, there was only one person it could be, to know what precisely he was thinking. He hurriedly wiped tears off his face before Charles came any closer.

“I told Beast I was fine. I don’t want anyone wasting any more time on me.”

“Beast didn’t tell your secret, but I was worried about you, Peter. You think I was going to just leave Egypt without you? I wouldn’t leave here without any of you.” Charles stepped closer, softly he took his hand and squeezed gently.  “You all mean so much to me. I owe you my life, Peter.”

He removed his hand and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do anything, if…if Erik hadn’t stepped in, we all would have been killed-including you.”

Charles glanced towards the monitors attached to the young man, before his eyes roamed across the physical state of Peter, in contemplation. “It was a group effort; it took all of us.” He finally spoke after a moment of hesitation. “I know you seek his attention and yet you’re afraid of it…Lehnsherr is coming back with us to New York, he’s going to help me rebuild the institution.”

Peter glanced up, his eyes reflecting a youthful hope the professor hadn’t seen for some time. “I thought he left.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s a way to…perhaps earn his attention, little by little anyway. What do you think? Will you return with me?”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not in great shape professor, encase you haven’t noticed. I might swing in when I’m up and around.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I know all your pains, I’m sorry. I put your life in such horrific danger-”

“I came along on the mission of my own free will, no one forced me,” Peter interrupted.

Charles gripped his shoulder suddenly with an assertive intention. “Let me oversee your recovery, Maximoff, please, it’s the least I can do. I won’t leave here until you agree to be transferred to a hospital in New York, preferably close to Salem Center. You don’t have to be bothered by anyone from the school. But knowing you aren’t in Egypt would put my mind at ease.”

Peter sighed, he was feeling it again, the warm sensation that made him relaxed and somehow extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Family was something he would never be able to hold on to. He was going to mess it up, he knew that. He could already feel the threads slipping between pale, desperate, grasping fingers. But in the meantime, Charles cared about him enough to hunt him down in one of many Cairo hospitals, and he’d checked in under an alias. The professor cared enough to come back, or had he never left in the first place? His caring nature was beyond consolation to Peter’s broken, cold body, so comforting in fact he felt tears welling up again!

He sniffled and hurriedly wiped his brow before their return, nodding. “I’ll come with you.”

Professor Xavier had kept his word, medically and financially he’d arranged for everything to be taken care of, transporting Peter from Cairo to New York. He’d also arranged for him to have his own private room in Sheeran Hospital—a private hospital in upstate New York, forty-five miles from the current disaster of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

Over the next two weeks physically Peter’s injuries slowly healed but mentally he felt wrecked beyond compare. He started having reoccurring nightmares that he couldn’t run; his ability had been fractured when the monstrosity had snapped his leg like a twig under his boot. In the dream he was trying to run away from someone, his first thought was that it was Apocalypse but a couple nights later he realized it was just a shadowy figure, one he could never outrun. Each time he fell, immobilized as pain shot through his leg, the sound of his own bones crunching reverberated in his ears, just as it had that day.

The nurses had unfortunately taken note of his mood, though Peter hadn’t put much effort into hiding his grim attitude, he’d slipped in a snarky remark about getting some extra drugs for an overdose. The nurse didn’t find his dark humor amusing and Charles suspiciously showed up the very next day.

He didn’t say much at first, just sat near Peter’s bed, looking out the enormous rectangle window that looked west, on a glowing sunset. “You have a good view though,” he finally spoke.

Peter pursed his lips. “I do appreciate your hospitality Professor, but I’m fine, you don’t have to check in on me. Just... really bored here you know, I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place this long…it’s wearing on me, I feel weird being at this speed.”

Charles turned his chair to face him, hands in his pockets, yet concern on his features. “Must be very uncomfortable to be forced to slow down. How’s physical therapy going?”

Peter avoided the older man’s gaze for some reason and snorted. “I mean it’s slow, I’m not the patience type or a patient for that matter…”

Charles nodded. “But the sooner you’re hobbling around, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“And take me where?” Maximoff snipped with his signature deep-set frown.

Charles chuckled, “You’d be surprised what several telekinetic mutants can accomplish when it comes to construction. The east wing is already rebuilt, for now we’re using it for sleeping quarters. It’s a little crowded but…”

“…Anything is better than the smell of hospital?” Peter finished, trying to keep his mind in constant motion—moving from thought to thought. He didn’t know how much the professor knew about what he was thinking but Xavier had already noted his inward conception about seeking Erik’s attention in Egypt, so his guess was he was an open book, but Peter’s thoughts could be about as fast as his movement when we wanted them to be. “Well sounds like I need to hit therapy harder, if you’re actually going to get me out of here.”

As much as Peter didn’t intend to be shambling around a cramped wing in the school, Charles’ visit served to kick him in the butt about getting out of Sheeran soon, regardless of where he went afterward. And if he was being honest, he had never planned to go back to the school, though he also wasn’t ready to face his reasoning for not returning there.

No one was going to miss him, well not the one person that mattered, because he couldn’t even see Peter for who he was. A new plan had quickly formulated—get his leg in good enough shape to slip off before Charles came back for him and circumvent the entire situation altogether.

The nightmares continued to plague him, as day after day he added a little weight to the tender broken leg, between tears and a lump that had formed on his lip from how many times he had bit it to deal with the pain, he started making it all the way through the routes the therapist had set up for him. Once he realized he could make it to the end of the routine he had to mentally stop himself from trying out his true speed. He continually checked himself, forced himself to be normal, move slowly. He embraced the pain wholly, promising himself a whole box of Lemonheads when he got out of here.

A week and two days after Charles’ visit, Peter decided he was going. He’d woke up from his worst nightmare by far, clutching his throat, covered in sweat, his heart was beating hard enough his chest ached. His leg was throbbing with shadow pain from Apocalypse breaking it, only in this dream he hadn’t been saved before the giant mutant had slit his throat and tossed him aside like trash. His father hadn’t even noticed or cared.

Peter swallowed painfully, still tracing his fingers across the smooth, blanched flesh of his neck as he slipped out of bed. His x-men costume had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, or maybe the professor had taken it, either way Charles had been kind enough to replace it with his current pajamas and a change of clothing. Not the usual silver tinted clothing but considering he still wasn’t up to his Quicksilver speed, it seemed fitting to pull on the dark blue jeans and faded orange hoodie. Peter sighed in comfort at the velvety worn state of both items as they contacted his skin, though he tried to ignore how billowy the clothes were on him, he’d lost a significant amount of weight since Egypt—which the nurses had been lecturing him over—but what could you expect when there was only hospital food and no snacks to be seen.

Next Peter attempted to calm his silvery hair, by brushing his fingers through it repeatedly, which only seemed to make it worse. Between the wild shock of hair and the dark rimmed eyes, his reflection looked ghostly, coupled with the dim hospital lighting.

Peter exhaled calmly before grabbing the only items that had made it back with him from Egypt, his googles and his earphones, he stuck one of the foreign crutches under each armpit and silently slipped out of Sheeran Hospital…

[winterscaptain]

the pleasures of the elder.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: the people have spoken, and they all love sean hotchner. this fits after mean it in the joyful future universe, but no context is actually required to enjoy a little bit of sibling rivalry. title comes from jane austen’s quote: “the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.” 

words: 3k warnings: language, alcohol use, sex mention, jealous!aaron, perceptive!sean

summary: when he arrives for an impromptu visit, sean knows his brother too well to give him any moment’s peace - especially when it comes to you. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed

A man, both very handsome and vaguely familiar, pushes through the glass doors and walks across the bullpen - a visitor's badge pinned proudly to his leather jacket. You try to place him, but come up short. 

You’re alone, for the time being. Almost everyone is off running some kind of last-minute errand around the federal building - making copies, finishing paperwork, or in a meeting (in Hotch’s case). It’s the last dregs of the day, the sun setting over the river. 

The man stops in front of your desk. “Hi. Are you part of the BAU, or am in the wrong place?” His eyes are bright, roaming over your face with a kind of curious, warm, knowing air. 

You smile at him, and before you can answer -

“Sean!” JJ’s fond tone carries across the bullpen, and she arrives with an armful of cases. 

Sean? 

Oh my god. 

Sean Hotchner. 

“Hey, JJ, right?”

She laughs, sounding a little younger than she is. You can’t blame her. Sean is exceedingly handsome in an entirely different direction than his older brother. And if your memory serves correctly, just a year older than you. “Yeah, that’s right. Good to see you.” He offers her a hand, and she shifts her files to take it. His handshake is firm, and lasts just a moment too long. 

You kick back in your chair, almost inviting him to lean against your desk. “Hotch is in a meeting, if you’re looking for him. He should be out in,” you check your watch, “about five minutes.”

Sean turns back to you, his shockingly blue eyes meeting yours. “Thanks.” He smiles at you again, and you’d be lying if you said your heart was doing normal things in your chest. “Sean Hotchner. I’m Aaron’s - sorry, Hotch’s - little brother.”

Those eyes are dangerous. 

Oh, poor Aaron. 

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” 

Just as you suspected moments ago, he takes the initiative and leans against your desk. JJ hovers nearby, a little smile on her face. You watch as she sends a quick text, and puts her phone back on her belt. 

Gotta tell the girls...

“So,” he starts, brisk and businesslike, “you definitely weren’t here during my last visit. What’s your story?”

“Well, if you must know -“

“I must.” He flashes you another smile, and you can only imagine all the trouble he caused growing up. Or, rather, you can imagine all the trouble he would have caused if his brother wasn’t around to bail him out. Five years ago, you would have been drawn into his pretty eyes and wide smile. Now, you can only see a boyish, overt, almost-inelegant version of the understated warmth you love in Aaron. 

You give him a quick rundown of your history: hometown, alma mater, etc. “- I was an academy grad in 2007, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Ah, so not a newbie anymore. And you’ve worked with my brother the whole time?” He almost looks impressed. His glance down to your ringless left hand doesn’t escape your notice.

Oh Sean, if only you knew. 

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve worked under Hotch for five years now.” 

And I’ve worked over him for about three months. Also under him, around him, on the couch, in the kitchen, etc.

Shut up. 

C’mon. It’s funny.

A low whistle leaves him as you bite back a smile. “Damn. I’m so sorry. He’s a real hardass.”

You lean in conspiratorially, and you’re almost cheek-to-cheek as he leans down to listen. “You know, that’s what I hear, but -” 

Penelope bursts through the doors and calls your name, carrying an armful of papers that have absolutely nothing to do with the work going on upstairs. Emily is close behind her, an amused grin on her face. 

Sean leans back so you can finally see her. “Yeah?”

“I have these for - Oh, hi Sean!” She says it like she hasn’t already decided her primary objective is to get his attention. 

“Hey!” He looks over at her, one finger up to stop her in her tracks. “Wait, don’t tell me. Garcia, right?”

“Penelope,” JJ supplies helpfully. 

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.” He offers her his hand, and she takes it. You’re almost certain he winks at her, and she smiles through the blush rising on her cheeks. 

He really is a heartbreaker, huh?

Aaron must have had his work cut out for him.

Derek rounds the corner and immediately rolls his eyes at the scene before him. Sean has his body angled toward you (in your chair, completely open, with your chin in your hand) while he shakes Penelope’s hand. JJ pretends to do work off at her desk behind yours, but she’s completely tuned into the conversation. Emily’s sitting on her own desk off to the side, watching the whole thing with a certain degree of good humor. 

“Sean, good to see you, man.” Derek walks over and takes Penelope under his arm. It’s almost possessive, and you almost laugh. 

Sean releases Penelope’s hand and takes Derek’s. “Hey, Morgan. How’ve you been?”

Their bro-to-bro catch-up fades into the background as you see Hotch appear on the breezeway by his office. You look up at him before pointedly glancing at Sean beside you. He sighs, then calls, “Sean.”

The man in question turns, and a smile breaks out over his face when he sees his brother. There’s something cocky about it, and you don’t miss the way his body language remains keyed into you as he speaks. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Aaron takes another deep breath and walks down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come see my big brother at work?”

Aaron’s eyebrow is dubious at best. “What do you need?”

Sean laughs, and it reminds you enough of Aaron’s that it draws a wide smile from you. You find yourself looking fondly up at Sean, seeing more of the resemblance now that they’re beside each other. Aaron’s jaw flexes. You notice. 

Oh, see, now this is fun. 

“I was just in town and figured I’d stop by to see if you were here or out on a case.” Sean glances down at you with another charming smile before looking back at his brother. “I guess I got lucky.” 

He’s just full of those smiles, isn’t he?

JJ jumps in. “We’re actually planning on going out to drinks once we wrap up in a couple of minutes. You’re more than welcome to come.”

While JJ pulls attention elsewhere, you glance up at Hotch and throw him a wink. Hey. Relax. 

His jaw relaxes just a touch, and his lips twitch. As usual, he covers it by crossing his arms over his chest. Don’t be a shit. 

You wet your lips and purse them a little. Nice try. 

He shifts, just a little, raising an eyebrow. You’re really gonna go there?”

Watch this. You toss him a quick smile. “That would be great!” You brush Sean’s sleeve as you unnecessarily reach over him for Penelope. “What do you think, Pen?”

“Oh, we’d love that!” Penelope takes your hand, squeezes it, and looks up at Derek. “Wouldn’t we?”

Derek nods. “We’d love to have you, man. It’ll be good to hear what you’ve been up to in New York.” 

Aaron does his best to suppress his eye roll. You’re lucky he loves you, childish antics and all. 

+++

When you split up into your respective cars, Sean elects to ride with you over his brother. You and Hotch play the role of designated drivers. You’ve fallen into the routine, finding it's much easier to sneak around your coworkers as they get more and more inebriated through the evening. 

Aaron doesn’t look too happy with the ride arrangements, but he lets it slide. Dave and Emily ride with him, while you have Derek, Penelope, and JJ in the car with you and Sean. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t trust Sean. 

Logically, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. He woke up this morning to your patient, adoring eyes and your hands playing with his hair. You ate breakfast together (read: sat in his lap with a bowl of cereal while he read his emails), were (almost) late due to your showering arrangement, and only parted after a (very) good kiss in the driveway. 

Still though, he can’t quite shake the insecurities he always felt with his brother. Thirteen years his junior, Sean always seemed to excel in every social pursuit. Music, girls, friends - he was able to settle into things Aaron always struggled with. It was stupid. Aaron was well into his thirties when Sean was in undergrad, but that prickle of envy never seemed to fade. 

Their mother never put the pressure on Sean the way she did on Aaron, and in some ways it made sense. He was a teenager when their father passed, and Sean was hardly a child. More responsibility, more weight, less credit. 

Aaron might be his mom’s pride and joy, even to this day, but Sean will always be her baby. 

Thus, watching Sean easily weasel his way into one of your smiles wore on almost thirty years of tension. 

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Emily asks, tapping Hotch’s shoulder with gentle fingers. Upon making contact, she snorts. “Wow, you’re really tense.” 

Hotch shakes his head and shrugs her off. “I’m alright.” 

It’s Dave’s turn to snort. “No you’re not. You’ve been scowling since Sean showed up.”

“He just has that effect on me. Always has.” 

“C’mon, Aaron.” Dave says. Aaron’s grip on the wheel tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. “He’s just a kid.” 

With a flat deadpan, Aaron replies, “He’s thirty.” 

Emily leans forward on the center console, inserting herself into the conversation. “Hotch, you don’t have anything to worry about. Sean doesn’t have anything on you.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. 

He sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Emily and Dave share a look and a little smile. 

+++

You hop out of the car, swinging your keys in your hand. Hotch is a couple of spots down from you in the parking lot, and your little groups meet up somewhere in the middle. Falling back, you let Derek and Emily lead the way. When they’re all in front of you, Sean included, you press your shoulder to Aaron’s for just a moment. 

“Are you going to be childish?” he says, quietly. 

You suppress a smile. “You’re fun when you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous.” 

“Alright.” Your hand snags his for just a moment, before you jog forward to catch up to the rest of the group. 

“There you are!” Sean’s voice rings out, and you let him tuck you under his arm. You wrap an arm around Sean’s waist and chance a look back to grin at Aaron. 

Gotcha, babe. 

Aaron rolls his eyes so loudly you can see it from twenty feet away. Ridiculous. 

I love you. 

I know. 

+++

You’ve all managed to secure a table. While not incredibly crowded, there are plenty of people around. You planted yourself next to Aaron, and Sean planted himself next to you. The music is just loud enough to encourage dancing without requiring a shout to communicate. 

Derek downed his first drink and led Penelope on the floor within ten minutes of your arrival. 

The round table is crowded, and your pinkie locked in Aaron’s belt loop goes unnoticed. He stretches his arm out behind you to clap Sean’s shoulder, and his fingers quickly trace across your shoulders as he pulls it back. 

“So what have you been up to, Sean?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He pulls from the drink in front of him and you’re almost certain it’s just a Coke. 

Sober? Getting there? 

Remind me to get the skinny on that later. 

10-4.

Aaron chuckles darkly. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Sean shrugs, and leans back, checking out the dance floor. You pull your pinkie from Aaron and put both of your hands on the table. Emily’s looking a little too watchful tonight, and you’d hate to lose your bet. 

Your money is on making it more than six months without alerting the team you’ve been sleeping together. Aaron, always of little faith, took the alternative. 

“Dance with me?” Sean offers you a hand, and you take it. Before you get too far, you lean across Aaron to take another sip of your drink. When you lose your balance (on purpose), Aaron steadies you with a hand around your waist, making sure you’re settled on your feet before you jet off with Sean. 

“Thanks, Hotch!”

He takes a long pull from his beer - his only drink for the evening. Hotch. Gimme a break. 

“Looks like they’re hitting it off great,” JJ says with a laugh. “That works out. I mean, Sean’s about our age, right?”

Don’t remind me. 

“Yep. Turned thirty last month.” Aaron does his best to not sound too bitter. 

JJ smirks at Emily, who turns to smirk at Dave. They don’t know what they don’t know, but they certainly know enough to keep an eye on Aaron for the rest of the evening. 

“That’s in-flight entertainment, baby.” Emily whispers to JJ. “I can’t wait to tell Will. He’s going to die laughing.” 

JJ lets out a peal of laughter. “Absolutely.”

Out on the floor, you’re having way too much fun, sandwiched between Derek and Sean. You pull Penelope between you and Derek, and loop an arm over Sean’s shoulders. 

“So,” he says, his lips close to your ear and his voice barely audible over the music, “how long have you been sleeping with my brother?”

You freeze for just a moment, but it’s a moment too long to recover. “What?”

“Oh, come on. Question in response to a question? That’s like profiling 101.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sean rolls his eyes. “He’s halfway in love with you, if not completely fucked, in case he’s failed to tell you.” He spins you out, and back in so your back is against his chest. 

“We’ve got that covered, yeah.” You twist in his arms. “You gonna do anything about it?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’s pretty funny to get him all worked up, though, don’t you think?” Another bright smile crosses his face and his blue eyes seem to glow in the dim light. 

“Oh, Sean. I think we’re going to get along just fine.” You laugh and reach for him again, but a finger appears in your belt loop. Derek pulls you back toward him by the hip. He’s stupid strong, and you can only tumble back into him with another laugh. 

You’re sweaty, sober, and having way too much fun.  

“Careful, kid. I think Hotchner has a crush.” Derek’s playful jab is warm against your ear as you fall in with him, cheek-to-cheek. 

“What can I say?” You ask. “I’m irresistible.” 

Derek throws you under his arm in a spin and you land back at his chest with the wind knocked out of you. “He’s gotta get in line though.”

“Oh?”

“I think his big brother’s gonna give him a run for his money?” 

That’s enough for you. “Gimme a break, Morgan.” With a laugh, you shove at Derek’s chest and leave the floor. Returning to the table, you sidle up to Aaron again. “Hey, Hotch. Having fun?”

He gives you a weak glare out of the corner of his eye and takes a sip of his beer. “A blast.” 

“Couple more hours, if that, then we’ll be home.” You drop your voice, almost whispering into your glass as you take another sip.

Aaron nods. “Can’t come soon enough.” 

The rest of the team gets more and more sloshed as the evening progresses, and you can get away with a lot more. That said, Sean’s eyes are playful, sober, and more than a little amused. 

“What did my brother say to you?” Hotch murmurs, under his breath. The girls went to the bathroom (and to call Spencer a cab home) while Derek and Sean posted up at the bar, itching for an excuse to give some asshole the what-for. 

You bump his shoulder. “Just that you’re half in love with me, if not already completely fucked.” 

He heaves a sigh. “Can’t catch a break.” You link your pinkie through his belt loop again. “He’s right, though.” 

“How’s that?” You look up at him and you know he can see how much you love him. 

“I’m completely fucked.” 

If any of your team members wonder what’s so fucking funny, they don’t ask. It’s just good to see Hotch smiling again. 

+++

At the end of the night, you drop Sean back off at the hotel on your way home. He’s the last in your car, so he can speak his mind with a certain degree of freedom. You idle in front of the building for a moment, just enjoying the silence.

“Hey.” 

You look over at him. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great in-law. Just wanted you to know that I’m here for it.” He offers you a hand. You shake it and it almost feels like you’re making some kind of gentleman’s agreement. “Take care of him. He needs it.” 

“Oh, don't worry. I know.”

The smile you share is that of a pair of co-conspirators, of siblings, of friends. 

We’ll do just fine, you and I. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts  @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @lilsiswinchester @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @mrshotchnerrossimulder21 @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas  @qvid-pro-qvo @joanofarkansass @jeor @spencers-hoodrat 

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 60 - Epilogue

Title: Irreverent Pt. 60 - Epilogue

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~2K

Status: Complete

A/N: That’s all folks. Chapters 59 and 60 coming out together today.

For J - For being the reason I finish this. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Aaron's been seated in his new office for the past hour, going over the new certification and training requirements for the BAU with Dave. Technically, it should've been Prentiss he was meeting with, but she'd happily passed along that piece of her new responsibilities, stating that the grouchy old men would do a much better job at it than she ever could.

From across the way, he can see through the glass walls into his old office which Prentiss now occupies. Both Garcia and JJ are sat across from her, no doubt convening there before they all fly out for your bachelorette party. It was a bit unbelievable to think he was only a week away from officially marrying you.

That is, if you survived this weekend, as you'd commented apprehensively earlier that morning. You've been terrified about what Emily had planned, especially given how his bachelor party had gone a few weeks prior. Dave had lured him away with the promise of good steaks and cigars, and then ambushed him with private dancers. He'd even gone out of his way to find one that held an uncanny resemblance to you. John had been sure to give that one a wide berth, making a beeline for the other corner of the room and staunchly avoiding any sort of eye contact with Aaron, much to his amusement. The night had culminated in a panicked text from Aaron to you, begging to be rescued. You'd arrived – his knight in shining armor – and taken him, a terrified Reid who'd been on the phone texting his girlfriend half the night, and a reluctant John who had finally relaxed enough to enjoy the company of the other dancer when you'd arrived and fixed him with an unamused regard that had the poor guy following the rest of you out with quick goodbyes to Dave and Morgan.

"You talk to Morgan recently?" Dave asks idly, sifting through the files in search of the old requirements documentation.

"Yes, he seems to be liking the transition to the academy," Aaron remarks, flipping through the file in front of him in search of the same. "We grabbed lunch last week when I did the Profiling and Prosecution seminar."

Dave smiles with a contemplative nod, and Aaron can only imagine what was going through his friend's head. Things were changing around them slowly – you'd left the team and had built your own, Prentiss was running the BAU, Morgan had retired to spend more time with his wife and soon to arrive son. Aaron himself had taken on the mantle of Section Chief, a role to which he was taking to far better than previously anticipated. Though, he supposed it helped that this time, he was only doing the Section Chief job and not also running the BAU.

It had been the right decision – for him, for you, for Jack. Both of you were home for dinner more nights than not. The three of you had settled into a routine that felt comfortable, and while he missed being directly in the field, he could see the change in him, his body. At his last doctor's visit, Dr. Robbins had commented that his stress levels appeared to be lowered and having a job that wasn't quite so hard on his body was a great help in that.

John was over every few weekends, very much a part of that routine you'd created, and the three of you had flown to New York a handful of times as well, taking Jack to a Yankees game (which he enjoyed thoroughly) and taking him on the subway (which he didn't care for). Dave had asked him half a dozen times, how he felt about John's presence in your lives. Aaron was incredibly alright with it – he hadn't been the only one who thought he'd lost you.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he was far more comfortable with John than he'd ever allowed himself to be around anyone that wasn't you or Haley. He's had time to think about it, about why that was the case. He figures it's because John is possibly the only other person in the world who understands the importance of you, the impact of you. For Aaron, in many ways, John also felt like an extension of you. The same biting humor, the forced humbleness – the way neither one of you could see anything wrong with spoiling Jack entirely.

Aaron could still easily recall the day he'd made an offhand remark about him not wanting Jack to grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth. John had grown quiet, eyes fixed towards where you were finishing making lunch. Jack was sat on the countertop, mixing together a bowl of cookie dough for you, to be baked for after lunch. Aaron had followed his gaze, his heart warming gently at the sight. It was so familiar, Jack always loved helping you in the kitchen. Aaron's mouth involuntarily turns into a smile as you laugh at something Jack had said, your head falling back easily, the musical notes of your laughter making the room feel brighter.

When John had turned back, he had a far away look in his eyes. "You're right," he'd said, clearing his throat, his voice a little heavier than before. "At the end of the day you want to be sure of only one thing – that he feels immensely loved. Because kids who aren't fed love by a silver spoon, they tend to lick it off of knives."

Aaron knew, without being told, that John was referring to Julian. He found himself incredibly grateful that his son got to be fed by you, wielding a platinum spoon. With John in your lives, that love in Jack's life only increased.

*------------*

You stood at the door of Aaron's office, having walked down from your own, on the way to Emily's so that you and the girls could fly off to a weekend of controlled (hopefully) fun. Who were you kidding? Emily Prentiss was in charge of your bachelorette party. You'd be lucky if you made it back in time to meet Aaron at the altar.

It takes a few seconds for them to notice your presence. A few seconds during which you get to admire the late afternoon sun hitting Aaron's frame just right, the golden hues turning his hair a lighter brown – it made him seem younger than his age, and the white flecks (which he blamed almost entirely on you and your disappearance) would suggest. The pronounced furrowed brow that seemed to be a permanent fixture for him while he was in the office, the warm eyes turned seriously down towards the papers in front of him, the pink lips that had spent a fair amount of time between your legs the night prior, causing you to shatter around him. That had resulted in John making a few crude remarks at breakfast that morning, which thankfully flew over Jack's head. Your son was far too excited to have an entire weekend with just his dad and favorite Uncle for a "Boys Only Weekend" to make up for you missing his soccer game on Saturday.

Aaron shifts, noticing your presence, head tilting up and eyes meeting your own. At the sight of you, they imbue warmth and familiarity, sparkling against the reflected sunlight. You're struck for a moment. Your husband-to-be was remarkably beautiful.

"Hey, how's it going?" You smile at both Aaron and Dave, entering quickly to meet Aaron on his side of the desk. Both of them turn to look at you.

"You still have no idea where Emily is taking you?" Rossi's face betrays his glee at your misfortune. He's been cross with you ever since you kidnapped Aaron from his own bachelor party. In your defense, the man had practically begged you to.

"No, she won't tell me." You sigh, your voice coming out almost in a whine.

Rossi's lip twitches, though he does a good enough job at not laughing outright.

You perched on the arm of Aaron's chair, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Harvey sent these over," you tell him, placing the envelope you had been carrying on his desk, your hand returning to play with the ring on your finger around as you were prone to do nowadays. "Would you please sign them and make sure they get to his office before Monday? He wants them finalized before the wedding."

Aaron nods, noting how your delicate fingers caress the stone of the ring that's sat on your hand and made him – quite literally – the luckiest man alive.

He's been expecting some paperwork coming his way in light of your upcoming ceremony. He'd lightly brought up the idea of a pre-nuptial agreement with you early on – for your sake – and had been laughed out of the room. You did however, feel it necessary to make him aware of exactly what assets he'd have access to, and thus your lawyer had been busy creating a summary for him to look over and acknowledge. Apparently, it had taken a full staff to do the entire work up, over the course of a month. If the thud the envelope had made when you'd set on his desk was any indication, he was in for a long night of reading.

"Alright, I should go." You heave off of his chair and the two of you look at each other and then Rossi, who takes a hint and looks away, leaving you to bend down and capture his lips against yours. You feel his arm winding around your waist and tightening into your side briefly, before you withdraw, your tongue peaking out to lick your lips. Aaron looks just barely flushed as Rossi turns back, his lips twitching in amusement as you fix yourself and take your leave.

*------------*

The door closes behind you, Aaron's eyes following your walk across the floor towards Emily's office.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dave asks, drawing his attention back to the envelope you'd dropped off for him. There's something oddly familiar about this – the two of them in his office, an envelope related to you dropped off at his desk. Though this time, under far less confusing and much happier conditions.

Aaron nods, doing his best to hide the smile threatening to break through at his friend's curiosity. Ever since New York, Dave had been very interested in learning exactly how much richer than him you were.

Reaching for the envelope, Aaron opens it up and withdraws the large stack of papers, and flips to the first page. Disclosure of Assets – the name of the document hardly did justice to the summary that followed. Properties across the U.S., Europe, South America, and the Caymans. A plethora of divided up Swiss bank accounts, each with a balance more staggering than the last. A stock portfolio rivaling Buffets. The number at the bottom of the page takes his breath away entirely.

Aaron turns once more to look towards his old office – he can see you gathered there with the rest of the girls, laughing about something. Given the piece of paper in his hand, he has to hand it to you in that moment. You lived far below your means. To think that someone your age had access to that kind of money – that kind of freedom – and still chose to do what you did. He didn't think there were many others who would.

Before Aaron can react, Dave has reached across the table and yanked the piece of paper right out of his hands.

The noise of complete shock that leaves his friend's body was not one that Aaron was likely to forget anytime soon. He watches as Dave reads the same summary he just had, his eyebrows moving further and further into his hairline as he goes down the page.

When he finally looks back at Aaron it's with a look that couldn't quite be described – surprise, awe, a hint of envy. Aaron can viscerally see the same thought he had moments ago regarding you and your work at the Bureau flit through Dave's head as he too turns to assess you across the floor.

Quietly, he hands the documents back to Aaron. Shifting in his chair, Dave clears his throat. "You do know that you're going to be picking up the tab every time now, right?"

Aaron chuckles, nodding. He'd assumed as much.

He turns back to you, only to catch you looking towards him as well through the glass walls. Your mouth turns up into a smile as your eyes meet his. Eyes like the sunrise colliding with his, causing his stomach to flip in that torturously delicious manner that only you seem to invoke. Eyes that meet his and stay. Eyes that have followed him, mirrored his, since the moment the two of you met. Eyes that betrayed you both when you looked at one another, the sheer intensity of the emotion behind them giving you away entirely. It didn't matter what distance, what time, what circumstance separated you from one another – somehow his eyes knew to always find their companion in yours.

Aaron might have fallen first, but he is forever grateful that you'd followed.

[stark-tony]

underrated irondad and spiderson fic recs part 2

part 1

Queer Eye for the Cacti by silentsaebyeok

summary: He bought one-hundred cacti on Amazon! Pepper was going to kill him!

What had possessed him to do such a thing? He never went on shopping sprees when drunk. That just wasn’t a Tony Stark type of thing to do. And in all honesty, he was astonished he even remembered the Amazon password.

--

Tony makes an interesting purchase while drunk. What he doesn’t expect is for said purchase to bite him in the ass in the worst possible way.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Tumblr Posts by Jen27ny

summary:   Literally what the title says. All the prompts and one-shots I post on tumblr.

pairings: pepperony, spideychelle

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

warnings:

It Lasts for Always by YellowDistress

summary:  Peter has never asked anyone to kill for him, especially not Tony.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Cursed Christmas by sahiya

summary: A series of unfortunate events befalls Tony, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan (and Happy and May) in the week leading up to Christmas.

It'd be kind of funny if it didn't totally suck. Fortunately, they've got good back-up.

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Keeping your head up by frostysunflowers

summary: It’s been a while, a long while, since Tony felt this defenceless. He’s without a suit, the manacle around his ankle is solid steel, and he can’t see a single way out.

 He’s been here before, but back then there had been tools, resources, options.

Here, there’s just the walls, his missing kid and the water. 

The water.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: kidnapping

Young, Dumb and Suffering by wordscorrupt

summary: In a moment of desperation, Peter decides to take Steve's pain medication to relieve a migraine.

or

Peter accidentally overdoses on pain medication.

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings:

Midnight Oil by JolinarJackson

summary:  After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

Love Will Remind Us Who We Are by blondsak

summary: There had been many times in Tony’s life when he’d known the piercing clarity that separated a Good Day from a Bad Day. Had known the ways in which, upon first waking, one’s soul would strike a balance between agony and relief either in your favor, or not.

But none of his earlier Good and Bad times had prepared him for his reality now.

//

Nine months after the Avengers defeated Thanos, Tony is still reckoning with the toll the final snap took on his body. Between grueling physical therapy, near-constant pain, and the inability to so much as tie his own shoes, well-- things aren’t exactly like Tony had imagined.

Luckily for him, there’s a certain kid from Queens who won’t let Tony give up so easily.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Summertime Sickness by Spideysickfics

summary: "Well, this is your lucky day, then!" Peter replied enthusiastically, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest as he broke into a wide grin, "You're looking at a former Boy Scout!"

Tony let out a huff of air.

"No shit, a Boy Scout, huh? When did you quit?"

"First grade." Peter's grin didn’t waver. Tony rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"I'm sure you're very knowledgeable."

OR

An Irondad camping trip and sickfic to soothe your soul

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

to break in these bones by searchingforstars

summary: “We’re gonna go play baseball? I’m not exactly a great shot, and you might have to let me out of these first,” Peter rattles his wrists around in the metal chains and they clink together, echoing around the sparse room, “but sounds like fun.

“We’re not playing baseball.”

“Shame, because I passed a park on my way here and I’m pretty sure that there’s only been like, six murders there this year so that could have been a fun spot.”

“I’m going to enjoy this, you fucked up little kid.”

“Hey, I’m not a little-” Peter starts, but he’s cut off by all the air being knocked out of his lungs as he sees the bat raised in front of him.

--

or, Peter doesn't listen to Tony, pisses off someone dangerous and ends up on the wrong end of a baseball bat.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

5 Times Peter Gave Tony Something by impravidus

summary:  and the 1 time Tony gave him something back

pairings:  none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

You'll Be Here (in My Heart) by seekrest

summary:  The morning that Tony’s life changed forever began as his days usually began now — shuffling into the kitchen half asleep, going through the motions as he searched for Pepper’s favorite coffee mug.

Tony stifled a yawn, grabbing the Black Panther novelty mug she adored while he grabbed one that Morgan had made them years ago - one that made her now cringe with embarrassment anytime she saw him use it, the childish scribbles that made him laugh.

  He sets Morgan’s creation down on the countertop as he reaches for the Black Panther mug, it being just barely out of reach for when Pepper has put it last.

“Damn thing.” Tony mutters to himself, fingers barely brushing against it before he grabs it - going to set it down on the counter only to be surprised when Pepper walks in from the bedroom, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Morning. You know, you and I need to have a talk about about your choice of mugs. I know T’Challa somehow perfected the cup warmer thing here but you could at least show a little—“

“Michelle’s in labor.”

pairings: spideychelle

tags: angst

warnings: none

the little things we don't say out loud by JBS_Forever

summary: “It's not funny,” Peter says, voice catching as he whines, “This is life or death, Ned. I'm actually dying.”

On the other end of the line, Ned sighs, amused and not at all concerned. “So you're Mr. Stark's secret Santa. It's not that bad.”

- - -

In which Peter is Tony's secret Santa, and it is, in fact, that bad.

pairings: none

tags: humor, fluff

warnings: none

Hiking Essentials: A backpack, plenty of water, and a Spider-kid by kiwifeather

summary:  Morgan, Peter, and Tony enjoy each other's company on a hike through the woods while Peter is staying with them for the weekend. Father-and-son bonding ensues

(Takes place after the snap but Tony survives because this is the good timeline and we know that Tony deserved a happy ending)

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

In Case of Emergency by Bowtiez

summary: Babysitting his little sister at the Stark's lakeside cabin seems like quite the gig for 17-year-old Peter. Of course he's got that covered- he's a mature individual and he can watch over a five-year-old for forty-eight hours.

On a totally unrelated note, did anyone know that super-healing doesn't really work on bacterial infections? It's a good thing Morgan knows what to do. Well... it's probably a good thing?

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Three Times Tony Stark Used Italian Nicknames and One Time He Received One by MCUsic_to_my_ears

summary:   Tony can't help but slip into his Italian when with his children.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

More Ancient Than Magic by ironfamjam

summary: Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.

It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.

But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.

Even if it breaks him.

The mini Hogwarts AU

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: torture

Peaches by peterparkr

summary: There’s no response, not even a faint twinge of muscle. Peter tries to listen for a heartbeat, but he can’t seem to focus enough to pinpoint it. Another bubble of thought starts to rise. This could be the reason his spidey-sense is going haywire. Tony could be—

He pushes the bubble down.

OR

Peter and Tony find themselves stranded in the woods after an Avengers mission

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Snowflakes by Jen27ny

summary:  Tony just wants to see his kids happy - which means letting Morgan stick as many snowflakes to the window as she likes, and making Peter talk about his nightmares.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I Sure Do Like Those Christmas Cookies by baloobird

summary: Tony is spending a fun afternoon baking cookies with his kids, but his older one isn't acting like himself.

Whatever the problem is, it's up to the now-retired hero to figure it out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: bullying, acephobia

An MIT Halloween by bethy_277

summary: Coming to MIT had been difficult, having almost lost his mentor when he had snapped to save the entire universe, and Peter had really struggled. If it hadn’t been for Ned and Harley- who he had met shortly after he came back and become good friends with- he didn’t think he would have made it past the first few weeks at school. He had called both May and Tony that first week, hysterical and begging to come back to New York. May had been patient, Tony had been ready to get in his car to drive to him to help him through it, and Harley and Ned had been there and talked him down both times.  

** Peter is a college student at MIT and Tony brings Morgan up for some trick-or-treating.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Someone Take Me Home by GallagherHunter

summary:  More than a month since May's death Peter is having a less than stellar day at school in the hopes of making it through the day so he can get to the apartment where he's been living with Tony since his world came crashing around him. Meanwhile, Tony has been advised to adopt Peter to assure him he won't leave him.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

It’s Gonna Be Lit by Pawprinter

summary: What Christmas gift does one get for the man who seemingly has everything?

Peter is struggling to find out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I'll Be Home For Christmas by snarkymuch

summary:  May gets called away for work, and Tony steps in to make sure Peter isn't alone for Christmas. Harley, Morgan, and Peter being adorable kids, and Tony being a great dad.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The power of makeup by SparrowFlight246

summary: Peter shows up to a prestigious awards ceremony with a black eye and a whole lot of regret.

Tony raids Pepper's purse and decides to improvise.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

if you'll be my star, i'll be your sky by ftmpeter

summary: There are two things Tony learns about Peter after Morgan is born.

The first thing is that when it comes to kids, he's a natural.

The second thing is that he's a self-sacrificing little shit.

(Tony already knew that. He has the gray hairs to prove it. But. Still.)

It isn't the kind of self-sacrificing that will get him killed or seriously injured - thank God - but it's just as annoying. Maybe even more, because while he can ground Peter from Spider-Man, he can't exactly ground him from staying up all night to make sure Morgan sleeps through it.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

give the cookies a miss by searchingforstars

summary: “Surprise!” Morgan exclaims as soon as they’re both in the room. She gestures excitedly towards a few slightly sad looking lumps of something drenched in icing and severed onto sticks. There are sprinkles as well, which look like they might have been a nice touch to cheer the entire thing up, had the majority of them not ended up scattered around the surrounding bench space.

“Daddy and I made cookie pops! Well, I made them, he just helped me use the big scary whisk-y thingy. They’re for Katie’s birthday party tomorrow because we all have to bring something yummy to eat, and Daddy wanted to do regular cookies but I told him that was boring. So we made these instead!”

--

or, Peter is poisoned by the ones he trusts most.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

i want to be with you 'til the whole world ends by searchingforstars

summary: The last thing he does as his eyes slip shut is wrap his arms tighter around Peter, as tight as he can manage when it feels like the life is draining from him.

Please, for the love of God, I'm sorry I couldn't do it, but please, please, someone look after this kid for me.

Tony would give anything to make sure that Peter Parker is safe.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much left to give. He’s about to have nothing left to give.

The world goes dark.

He drifts away.

--

Or, Peter and Tony nearly lose each other.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Of bright autumn days and things that go bump in the night by frostysunflowers

summary: Halloween/fall themed fics featuring plenty of fluff, feels and seasonal shenanigans!

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor, angst

warnings: none

Twelve Days of Terror: A Whumptober Collection by seekrest

summary:

pairings: spideychelle

tags: 

warnings: 

[slygirl666]

Misunderstanding

Fred x American reader

summery: while taking some time in New York Fred meets reader. but she is convinced he's a No-Maj. 

warnings: maybe language, not edited and probably won't ever be.

words: 2,7020

----

You sighed, you were on your last hour of a double shift at a twenty four hour dinner. You couldn’t wait to Apparate home and sleep. Getting a plate of hashbrowns and eggs you walked tiredly to your section.

What you didn't see was the giant of a man walking towards you. The eggs and hashbrowns did end up on him.

“Shi- i mean sorry, sir,” you bent down to get the now broken plate. To be fair this was only your second week on the job and you were still getting used to the fact magic wasn’t used to keep things afloat.

“No harm, love.” he gave you a smile that made your cheeks heat up. Maybe it was just the nickname, that's what it was. A tourist most likely

“Sit down, i’ll get you a milkshake on me.” he started to shake his head. “Please something I don't want to let you go knowing I made a mess of you.”

“I’ll settle for a coffee, if that's alright?” you nodded as you went back to replace the order and get his coffee. You smiled at him dropping the coffee before taking the order to another customer.

When you got off of work you noticed the same man sitting only a block away on a public bench, he was awfully cute and the city lights bounced nicly off of flaming red hair.

No, the last thing you needed was to get attached to another no-maj, let alone one from another country.

That's the way you ended up in New york alone, you followed a boy. A no-maj you were ready to turn in your wand for. But he left you with a girl who came sobbing at your door about being pregnant. You're glad that he had the decency to see this through with her but not the decency to not cheat on you.

Against your better judgement you walked up to the man. “Hi, I believe I spilled a whole meal on you a while ago.”

He turned to look at you, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes flashed. You bit your lip just knowing that smile will get you in loads of trouble.

“You did, do you always end up following people out?” He gave you a smirk. You felt yourself heat up embarrassed, but he couldn’t know that.

“Only the cute ones.”  you shrugged, mentally hitting yourself for saying it.

His smirk turned into a boyish grin, “awfully bold of you to say. I’m Fred.”

“Y/N” you offered him a hand. He shook it. “What are you doing all the way out here in New York?”

His face darkened, his eyes went haunted. “I needed a change from home. How long have you lived here?”

“A year,” Merlin, you should walk away, Apparate home. “I should get to the subway before it’s too late, have a good night.”

He waved to you as you walked off.

Two days after your talk with the Red Headed man you walked into work, a co worker took your hand.

“Y/N a cute guy came in yesterday asking about you,” she gave you an excited smile. “I told him you were working tonight and he said he’s stopping by.”

Shit, who would ask for you did kade find you. No his kid would be a here by now. “What did he look like?”

“Very tall, red hair, freckles..” you let out a breath  as she listed them. It was that guy...Fred.

“Thanks Heather, I should get on my shift now,” you tied the apron around your waist and walked off to your section.

You anticipated Fred coming to see you, three hours passed and he didn’t. He wasn’t obligated to come see you, but why would he ask your coworker if he wasn’t going to come. Two more hours and you were putting your apron back in your locker.

You walked out through the front, only to see Fred leaned against the wall running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself to ‘just do it.’

“Do what?” You laughed, he jumped and turned to you.

“ask the pretty waitress, who happened to spill food on me if she wants to get a drink with me.” He smiled hopefully at you.

“I can’t get into a bar,” you shuffled your feet. He was older than you then. “I’m only nineteen.”

You could always use a glamour in your ID but you didn’t want to lie about your age to him.

“Oh,” He looked at a loss for words.

“I do know a killer pizza place just around the corner, so how about dinner?” You bit your lip half expecting him to say you were too young for him.

“Sounds lovely,” he smiled,gesturing for you to lead the way.

You walked ahead of him, before stopping at your favorite place for a late night slice. Leading him inside.

“Y/N your back,” Johnny, the owner smiled at you. After Kade broke your heart you spent a lot of time crying over a slice of Pizza here.

“Brought a friend too,” you smiled at him waving in the direction of Fred.

“Out to break my heart Y/N” he dramatically grabbed his chest.

“It’s okay Johnny I only loved you for your pizza skills anyway.” He laughed as you took a seat at a table, Fred sat across from you amused.

“You get on with everyone you meet?” He breathed out a laugh.

“Not always, but moving somewhere alone you learn where you feel safe and who you should talk to to secure that.”

He looked at you a little worried. When Johnny sat a cheese Pizza in front of the two of you with two bottles of beer Fred looked at you.

“They’ve never carded me here,” you shrugged, opening it up. That was a lie you spent two months charming your I.D till they stopped carding you. “So tell me about yourself.”

You learned a lot like he was the fourth child out of seven, he was twenty two, he only had one sister. He dropped out of school his last year and he owned a small joke shop with his twin brother in London.

“What about you, love?”

“Uh, I don’t have a family…” you refused to meet his eyes. “I went to a boarding school, and stayed with a foster family over the summers.”

You knew he would pity you, everyone seemed to. “You seem to have no trouble making your own family then.” He smiled at you nodding towards Johnny.

“Don’t always make the right choice though, that’s how I ended up on the other side of the country on my own,” you laughed telling him about how you ended up alone after only two months of living with someone.

“Stupid wanker if you ask me,” he smiled. You couldn’t agree more. The pizza and drinks were finished before you knew it. You felt so comfortable with this man. He got up and insisted on paying for the food and drinks. You agreed only if the next time you could pay, though you had a feeling he wouldn’t allow that.

And he didn’t, random nights turned to days, you gave him your phone number, he’d call from the landline he had. You even took him sightseeing, though he said he already had you insisted it was better with a partner.

It was a dream your friends had warned you, even saying that you get attached to men too easily. That was true but with Fred it just felt right. Even though you always felt like he told half truths maybe it's because you were keeping secrets. You eyed your wand, you should tell him maybe not now but soon. You were sitting in a cafe in the magic district.”

“No way Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” she recognized the voice of Naveah Klower, a girl in her year at Illivamory. “I thought you lived in california, what the hell are you doing in New York?”

She smiled you two were never close but you did study together occasionally. “I live here now.”

“No way,” she sat herself across from you, last you heard she was working her way up as a top journalist for the daily. “Tell me everything.”

It was nice to talk to someone about the frustration of falling for a No-maj and not sure what to say.

“Oh, sweetheart.” she looked ready to cry for you. “You’ve always been a lover haven’t you? Tell you what, let's get together. I have to go to this event, it's formal, come with me as my date.”

“Uh, is that really what you get ou-”

“Common say yes, it's a free trip to london. Austin bailed on me and it's this weekend.” she pulled out a silver invitation.

Remembrance Ball

Witches and wizards all over the world are the reason were here today

“It’s cheesy I know, but I have a port key and you’ll get to meet all the people who fought for everyone, they usually only invite people higher in the business but my boss has a soft spot for me.”

She gave you lage pleading brown puppy eyes. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Great, we can go to the ball and then maybe we’ll go bar hopping. It's only a weekend but-”

You were lost in thought as you thought maybe this would be an opportunity to see everything clearly. Spend the weekend away from Fred out of your apartment.

He was already busy this weekend, something about his apartment needing to be cleaned. You wouldn’t just mope around your place.

“You can borrow a dress of mine, oh give me your address.” she pulled out a quill and paper. “I’ll be by tomorrow night.”

she smiled at you walking off.

You spent the next day packing a bag and pacing your apartment. When Naveah knocked and excitedly waited. “So we need to apparate to the ministry and they have my portkey.”

She took your hand so you went with her. The portkey itself was a dusty record player that had a sister key set in your hotel room.

“Okay so, we have a hair and nail appointment in London and I’ll do make up,” she pushed you out the door grabbing both your purses.

You were never friends because she was so high energy and you weren’t. You checked your phone in hopes for a voice mail or call from Fred, but he said he couldn’t this weekend.

“Y/N don't worry about the no-maj man,” she took your phone. “We’re going to get you looking perfect for tonight you can't stress over a boy.”

The day felt long getting through the appointments, and having Naveah pull and tug at you as she chose your dress and makeup.

You did look good, hair in large soft curls, grey and silver eye makeup with dark red lips. She handed you a silky charcoal colored gown.

“Me best work yet i have to say, “ she zipped you up she looked amazing, in neutral makeup and a pink dress.

They looked walked out to the hall to the elevator, the man inside nodded, “looking lovely ladies, where too?”

“Top floor please,” Naveah flashed her invite, he nodded, waving a hand over the elevator buttons to make a new one appear. He pressed the button, elevator going up at lightning speed. “Enjoy.”

They walked into the room, the ceiling magically showing the perfect night sky. People were already mingling and discussing the war. Naveah pulled a pad and quill to start writing. “You go talk to people, I have to report and stuff.”

You smiled going to find the table, feeling awkward alone in a place you knew nobody. It reminded you of when you moved, you saw a flash of red hair. Turning you saw it belonged to a lanky man shoving bread in his mouth, not your Fred.

The woman the man was with guided him to the front, she was beautiful with her large hair in natural curls and a light blue gown. “Ronald! we have to go meet Harry up front, swallow that or spit it out.”

You giggled, they looked like a cute couple. The two walked to the front where a shorter man with jet black hair tapped a knife against a champagne glass. From photos you knew that was Harry Potter. He began thanking everyone before awkwardly going on to talk about the war and the people who stood with him. When he mentioned the last name Weasley you perked up.

It's a common last name right? Especially here, the name isn’t unheard of. You think at least.

When Harry finished his speech he motioned for the staff to bring out the food.

You sat and chatted with Neveah and the others at your table, you met Rita Skeeter and her partner. After food everyone was invited to dance and mingle.

“Y/N would you mind helping, just jot down notes, please?” Neveah gave you pleading eyes. You smiled taking the two items sitting next to you.

“I want to focus on everyone around the war, not just those three,” she moved on asking people who they were and how they were involved.

You stopped at Ginny Weasley who insisted you should talk to her older brothers. “Georgie, Freddie! Come here, they came here from America.”

You froze the second she said Freddie. And a familiar voice called out to Ginny.

“Y/N what's wrong with you?” Naveah gently shoved your shoulder.

It was too late the men already came to stand with their sister.

“Y/N?” Fred eyed you. “What are you doing here aren't you- Merlin I’m an idiot. You never told me anything about before your days in new york and you always cut yourself off.”

“I take it this is the girl you were writing about,” the identical man laughed.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” you handed the paper and quill to Naveah.

Fred led you to a bar, he ordered a whiskey and wine handing you the glass.

“Mione, made sure there was an open bar,” he didn’t look at you.

“Oh thats-”

“Did you plan on telling me? At all?” he turned to you with a short glare.

“You can't be mad Freddie, I was going to decide this weekend,” you returned his glare.

“Were you going to tell me?”

“Yes, I was going to tell you on monday after I picked you up for work.” he cracked a smile, “we’re right idiots aren’t we?”

You laughed, placing your glass down, he led you to the floor where people were dancing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “we really are, maybe it’s a good thing.”

“You know I know, I was so scared. You were a bit too young for me,” he pulled you closer by the waist. “Obviously reckless, somehow can drink underadge you spilt food on me multiple times-”

“Those were an accident,” you defended.  he laughed, bringing up a hand to caress your cheek.

“But charming and absolutely gorgeous. I was amazed you agreed to go on a date with me after one conversation.”

“I tend to do things most people see as a read flag,” you smiled up at him.

“I will forever be grateful for that.” he leaned his head down to kiss you sweetly.

The two of you had kissed many times, this was different, you felt lighter no longer holding anything back.

“Ahem, Fred.” the two of you turned to see George and a whole family of redheads standing by you two. looking ready to laugh. “Don’t you want to introduce us to your lady friend?”

He looked embarrassed before you introduced yourself, Molly Weasley hugged you. “I thought you were a muggle.”

“I thought he was a no-maj. We just misunderstood each other ma’am.”

“Oh, dear call me Molly, Fred hasn’t shut up about you.”

“That's enough you lot!” Fred pulled you under his arm guiding you to a balcony. You looked out amazed by the view of London under you. “Y/N I think I love you.”

“I know I love you already.” you got his collar to pull him down for a heated kiss.

[kjack89]

Christmas Wish

Modern AU, E/R, established relationship, misunderstandings with a happy ending. Because sometimes you have to make your own entirely self-indulgent Christmas present :)

“A young boy has just come running out of the park...Let me see if I can get a comment...Did you see anything?”

“It's the real Santa! His sleigh can't fly cause nobody believes in him!”

“Now, this is feeling more and more like some kind of elaborate Christmas hoax.”

“Typical,” Combeferre said dismissively over the sound of Elf playing from the TV in Courfeyrac’s living room as all of Les Amis lounged around, ostensibly watching the film, which was one of their holiday traditions. “The mainstream media agenda at work, propping up a capitalist system by decreasing belief in Santa Claus.”

Grantaire snorted and shifted from where he was lying on the couch, his feet propped up on Bossuet and his head resting in Enjolras’s lap. “I realize that you deny nothing, which apparently extends to Santa Claus, but I don’t think you can dismiss lack of belief in the Big Guy as a media coverup.”

“Besides, all you need is to call it the ‘lamestream’ media and you’ll sound more like a QAnon supporter than anything else,” Jehan added blithely, ignoring the wounded noise that Combeferre made at the insinuation.

“You take that back—” he started, but Courfeyrac elbowed him.

“Shh,” he scolded, “I’m trying to watch.”

Combeferre rubbed his ribs and grimaced. “Right, because we haven’t seen this movie a hundred times before,” he muttered.

Courfeyrac ignored him as the kid in the movie flipped through Santa’s book. 

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Charlotte Dennon, New York 1.”

“Lemme see...Charlotte Dennon wants a ‘Tiffany engagement ring, and for your boyfriend to stop dragging his feet and commit already’!”

Courfeyrac cackled and for some reason twisted around to smirk at Grantaire. “Looks like the film writers cribbed from Grantaire’s Christmas list for that one,” he teased.

Most of the other Amis laughed at that, though Enjolras frowned, his hand stilling from where he had been running it through Grantaire’s hair. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and Grantaire squirmed, trying to get Enjolras to resume stroking his hair.

Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow at him. “It means that you and Grantaire have been dating for, what, five years now?” he said, as if the answer were obvious. 

“Off and on,” Enjolras said, feeling defensive even if he wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Right, so five years of dating, and you’ve been living together for two years now…” Courfeyrac trailed off and Enjolras just stared blankly at him. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Leave it alone,” Joly said, a little sharply. “Not everyone wants to be married and live in the suburbs with two point five kids, a dog, and a white picket fence.”

“Though to be fair, there is nothing wrong with wanting that,” Cosette piped up, patting Marius’s hand loyally.

Marius glanced at her. “Is the point five part of the kids negotiable at least?”

Bahorel cleared his throat. “Can we please,” he started, an unspoken threat clear in every word, “go back to watching the damn movie?”

Everyone fell silent, all remembering far too well the Sound of Music fist fight of 2016, where Bahorel took Jehan’s then-boyfriend outside to beat him up for mocking the movie. The rest of the movie passed in relative silence, and once it was over, everyone took their leave. 

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve,” Courfeyrac said as he held the door open for Enjolras and Grantaire. Combeferre cleared his throat pointedly from behind him and Courfeyrac reluctantly added, “And, uh, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Grantaire said easily, giving Courfeyrac a one-armed hug before he and Enjolras left.

But Enjolras was not so quick to forget, and he was silent as they walked towards their place, the chilly December night lending itself better to walking than waiting for an Uber. After the silence between them had stretched for several minutes, Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire, who sighed. “Don’t,” he said warningly, and Enjolras scowled.

“Don’t what?” he asked defensively.

“Don’t even start.”

Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “I have no idea—”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. “You weren’t going to bring up what Courfeyrac said?” he asked pointedly.

“No,” Enjolras said immediately, and when Grantaire just gave him a look, he sighed and amended, “Ok, yes, I was, but—”

“But Courfeyrac has a shitty sense of humor sometimes,” Grantaire interrupted with forced levity. “That doesn’t mean we need to ruin our Christmas Eve Eve by indulging his idiotic fantasies.”

Enjolras glanced at his watch. “Technically, it’s now actually Christmas Eve.”

“And that’s not the point.”

Enjolras made a face. “No, it’s not,” he agreed, hesitating before giving Grantaire a sideways glance. “And you’re not normally that rude about our friends. At least, not behind their backs. You’re plenty rude to their faces.”

Grantaire didn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes. “Yeah, well, our friends normally know better than to stir up things that they shouldn’t,” he muttered.

Enjolras seized the opportunity. “Since it has been stirred up—” he started, and Grantaire snorted.

“Hell of a segue.”

“—I think it’s something we should talk about,” Enjolras finished doggedly.

Grantaire groaned. “Must we?”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Is there a reason you don’t want to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Grantaire said sourly. “That’s a neat trick.”

Enjolras nudged him. “So is deflection.”

Grantaire sighed. “Fine. The reason I don’t want to is because it’s Christmas. And we’re supposed to be, y’know, holly jolly and shit.”

“Holly jolly and shit,” Enjolras repeated, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Well that certainly captures the festive mood.”

But Grantaire didn’t seem amused. “You know what I mean.”

“So why do you think talking about this will ruin the holly jolly mood you’ve clearly gone to great lengths to cultivate?” Enjolras asked mildly.

“Because I don’t think this conversation is going to have the outcome you’re hoping for.”

Grantaire delivered the words bluntly, but Enjolras didn’t flinch. “Because you want us to get married and I don’t,” he guessed, less a question than a statement.

To his surprise, Grantaire barked a laugh. “No,” he said, with actual amusement, “quite the opposite.”

Enjolras stopped in his tracks. “Wait, you don’t want to get married?” he asked, a little stupidly.

“Absolutely not.”

Enjolras hesitated. “Like, you don’t want to get married to me, or you don’t want to get married at all?”

It was Grantaire’s turn to stop in his tracks, turning to face Enjolras, something urgent in his expression. “I love you.”

Enjolras looked warily at him. “I know, and I love you, too. But why—”

Grantaire shook his head. “I just don’t want you to go into this conversation that you insist on having with any kind of doubt in your mind about that.”

Enjolras’s expression softened. “I never would doubt that,” he said, tugging Grantaire close and pressing a kiss to his temple. “So you love me, and I love you, and like Courfeyrac said, we’ve been dating for years, living together for years...isn’t marriage the next logical step?”

“For some people, sure,” Grantaire said with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean it needs to be for us.”

“Because you don’t want to get married.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Are you telling me that you do want to get married?”

“No,” Enjolras said, a little too quickly, and he winced. “I mean, not because of you. If I were to marry anyone, it would be you. I’m just...not big on the institution of marriage, the perpetuation of the patriarchy, certain segments of the gay community acting like marriage equality was the end of the fight for equal rights…” He trailed off. “But you know all of that.”

“I sure do.”

Enjolras frowned slightly. “So is that why you don’t want to get married? Because you think I don’t want to?”

Again Grantaire laughed, and again, it took Enjolras by surprise. “Enjolras, believe me, if I wanted to be married to you, we’d be married, whether you wanted to or not.”

Enjolras stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you’re historically terrible at denying me something that you think I really want,” Grantaire said easily. “Which is probably a consent issue that we should discuss more some time, but that’s not really the point.”

It wasn’t, so Enjolras didn’t press it. “So you really just don’t want to marry me?”

“Not so much, no,” Grantaire agreed.

“But...this is – this is a forever thing for me,” Enjolras said, before hesitating. “You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Grantaire said instantly.

“And don’t you want this forever too?”

Grantaire grinned at him. “There is absolutely nothing I want more.”

“Then why…?”

Grantaire sighed and looked away. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this at Christmas,” he said. “Total mood killer.” Enjolras didn’t smile and Grantaire sighed again. “I don’t want to be married to you because if we were married, you would never divorce me, or walk away, no matter how much you might want to.”

“I—” Enjolras started, but he couldn’t seem to find any words to say to that.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

As much as Enjolras wanted to tell him that he was, he knew better than to try. “No.”

Grantaire nodded. “Because when you make a promise, you keep it. It’s just who you are.” His tone turned fond. “Too damned stubborn to admit defeat, no matter how much you should.”

Enjolras frowned. “Ok, but again, isn’t that what you want?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

Grantaire cocked his head slightly. “You think that I would want you locked into a marriage, which is an institution you don’t even believe in, just so that you could never leave me?”

“I—” Enjolras broke off, flustered. “Honestly, I’m not sure how to answer that.”

“Wise man. I don’t want you to be with me because you have to be with me. I want to know that you are with me because you want to be, not because you made some arbitrary vow.” Enjolras opened his mouth to interrupt but Grantaire didn’t let him. “I want to wake up every day in your arms and know without a question of a doubt that you could walk away any time you wanted, but that you choose to stay. That’s what I want. And I’d like to think that’s what you want, too.”

For a long moment, Enjolras was silent, staring at Grantaire as if he’d never quite seen him before. “Well,” he finally managed around the lump in his throat, “when you put it like that...”

He didn’t even bother trying to finish his sentence, just cupping Grantaire’s cheek with one mittened hand and kissing him deeply. Grantaire returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, balling his hands in Enjolras’s red coat.

They stayed that way for a long time, long enough that when they pulled away from each other, they both immediately looked up at the sky. “Is that snow?” Enjolras asked stupidly.

But Grantaire just laughed, and Enjolras smiled at him. “What?” he asked.

“We are kissing in the snow on Christmas Eve,” Grantaire said, grinning up at the flakes swirling from the sky. “If this were a very different story, you’d get down on one knee right now and ask me to marry you, and we’d have a happily ever after for Christmas straight out of a Hallmark movie.”

“If Hallmark wasn’t a bunch of homophobic cowards, anyway,” Enjolras grumbled good naturedly.

Grantaire just laughed and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Enjolras said, grinning, and without warning, he took a step back from Grantaire before kneeling down on one knee. “And you’ve just given me an idea.”

“What are you doing?” Grantaire asked, staring at him. “Did you seriously just not listen to a word I said, or…?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said, “I absolutely listened to everything you’ve said, because I love listening to you talk. I love everything about you. You don’t want to get married. I don’t want to get married. And I know better than to make a promise to you, even if you deserve all the promises in the world. But it is Christmas, and it’s snowing, and I love you more than anyone in the world. So Grantaire, I have to ask – will you not marry me?”

“You are such a fucking dork,” Grantaire said, exasperatedly. “Of course I will not marry you.”

“Good,” Enjolras said, satisfied, and he stood up, kissing Grantaire once more before taking his hand. :Now let’s go home. I want to make love to the love of my life.:

“Romantic,” Grantaire said with a snort, but he was grinning.

“Whom I will never marry,” Enjolras added.

“You sure know how to woo a boy,” Grantaire said wryly, still grinning, and he leaned in and kissed Enjolras’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Enjolras.”

Enjolras wrapped his arm around Grantaire’s waist, turning to kiss Grantaire lightly on top of his head. “Merry Christmas, Grantaire,” he whispered.

[weirdestbooks]

The First Thirteen Part 1 (Oneshot)

The origins of the first 13 states in my books. Also the italicized words are the states that don’t have countryhumans, but exist as voices in America’s head. More will be explained in the hearing the states headcanon.

United States POV

December 7, 1787

"I hope that the states will ratify the Constitution." I said as I marched through the room. I was making my way up to New York to meet with Congress. I had been in Virginia with General Washington, trying to take my mind off of the ratification of the Constitution. Benjamin Franklin, who I had been staying with, smiled.

"Don't worry United, I'm sure they will." He said. I sighed.

'It will get ratified. Just wait.'

"I'm just worried, if they insist on using the Articles of Confederation I'll collapse and die, or British Empire will take me back easily. I know they want their states rights, but if the states have more power than I do as the federal government, then I'm not a country, I'm just an organization of thirteen countries who could very easily die if they refuse to get along. So I've very worried, because an option other than this Constitution will most likely end in my death." I ranted out, wringing my hands in worry. Dr. Franklin smiled.

'The Union won't fail. We'll show British Empire what we can do.'

"Those are reasonable concerns United, but have faith in your people. We wanted to be united and we will be." He responded. I nodded, but I just couldn't shake the worry from my mind.

'The states will unite. Even if they aren't ratifying the Constitution instantly doesn't mean that they aren't discussing ratification.'

'Yes, just relax. Things will work out'

I had to survive. I had to become a strong country so I could prove British Empire wrong. Just because I am a republic doesn't mean I am going to be weak. A republic can be strong and I'll prove myself to them all.

Suddenly I began to feel pain on my face, but they was something very weird about it. The pain was centered on my first stripe and one of my stars, instead of my entire face. I let out a gasp of pain, one hand reaching up to cover the star, were the pain was more focused.

'What's happening?'

'I feel weird.'

' '̷̢̬̟͇̹̫̠̲̩̬̳͛͒̀́̈́̔́͠͠L̸̢̧̛̰̲̟͌͛͛̉̈́̅͑͋ͅơ̸̢̝̘̞̈̀̽͗̽̀̑͘̚o̶̡̢͎͔͙̟͍̙̩̓͒̆͐͜k̶̠͛̒̂̓̐̐̾̐ ̶̨̬̠͖̏̉͐̒͊̆ͅa̶̢͎̮͇̬̰̥͉͙̦̘̪̥̮͗t̶̬̳̥̀̈́̈́͒̈̏̏̀̔́̾̌͊͠ ̴̧̨̛̟̪̤̬̭̤͎̎̈͜ͅĎ̵͙̣̳̭̰̙̲͔̻̝̓̋̈́̈́̄̽̏̀̊̄͘̚̕͝é̵̛͉̺̘͍̤̫͖̣̗͊͆͋̔̀̄̅̀̎̍ͅl̷̨̢̛̹͇̓̽̆̅̍̈́̚̚!̸̧̦̠̩̭̩̤̾͆̂̅̈́̔̉͝'̵̛̜̭͍̝̬͉̬̮̗̄͐́͌́̽'

My thoughts became louder and head ached so much that I was unable to understand what they were saying, but the tone of them was panicked and confused. I hadn't had a headache this bad since...I don't remember when, but it was a long time ago.

"United?" Dr. Franklin asked, standing up in concern. I groaned in pain as an image of Delaware's state seal flashed through my mind. I walked over to the couch and sat down as the headache grew and keep my balance was becoming impossible.

"United are you alright?" He asked as the pain grew. The image of Delaware's state seal grew more and more vivid, until I could pick out the details of the seal. The farmer and the militiaman, the wheat and the boat. Then I started to feel the pain flare up once more and then it was gone.

I pulled open my eyes, having closed the due to the pain. In front of me was a child, with a face that bore Delaware's state seal. Dr. Franklin looked at me in amazement. I looked at the countryhuman in front of me.

'What the fuck!'

'Oh come on.'

'This is just bullshit now.'

"Delaware." I muttered, looking over my son. "You're Delaware."

The child smiled and nodded.

"This must of happened due to the state ratifying the Constitution. Congratulations United." Dr. Franklin said, smiling down at me. They were ratifying the Constitution. I was going to survive. But then another thought hit me right then.

"I'm a father. I had a child. If this happens for all the states I'm going to have thirteen children!" I exclaimed in alarm. I already loved my son, but would I make a good parent? My former father was good, until those goddamn taxes.

'Great. I don't think this will end well.'

'Which part?'

'Thirteen children part.'

'How can he have kids if he's a man.'

'Magic countryhuman bullshit now shut the hell up before there's an existential crisis.'

What if I messed up the way he did? What if I destroyed my relationship with my children?

'Don't worry. You aren't British Empire.'

"United. Don't doubt yourself. You will make a great father. I'll help you for as long as I can." Dr. Franklin assured. I nodded, but I was still a bit panicked. I didn't expect to have a kid. How was I supposed to run my country and take care of my kids? What if my kids hated me? What if British Empire tried to use them against me?

'Stop thinking about British Empire. We're independent! He will only continue to control your life you you constantly think about him.'

"I think you will be a good Father Dad." Delaware said, continuing to smile at me before pulling me into a hug. I felt a smile tug at my lips before hugging him back.

'I hope the ratification of Pennsylvania is next.'

"We...we should probably tell Congress." I eventually said. They would want to know. The member of Congress would also like to meet their states. I just hope this doesn't lead to any infighting.

"Yes, they will want to know. I'm sure there are other people you will want to tell." Dr. Franklin said. I smiled.

'Vermont!'

'General Washington.'

'Alexander!'

"I can think of a few. I'll write letters to them once we get to New York. I have to figure out how to take care of a child." I told Dr. Franklin. I hope the reveal of my states getting countryhumans wouldn't lead to internal divisions. My people were very proud of their state identities. I just hoped they could be proud of their national identity as well.

————————————————-

December 12, 1787

Pennsylvania had just joined the union, gaining a countryhuman, or I guess statehuman, the same way Delaware did. Pain in Pennsylvania's star and stripe, followed by the statehuman coming into existence.

Pennsylvania didn't have a seal like Delaware did, so her face was a faded version of my flag. She also spoke German, which wasn't surprising, due to the large amounts of Germans that lived in her state.

"Ich möchte ein Staatssiegel.  Ich möchte nicht wie Sie aussehen, besonders wenn wir mehr Staaten haben, die keine Siegel haben.  Es wird zu verwirrend sein." (I want a state seal. I don't want to be stuck looking just like you, especially when we get more states that don't have seals. It will be too confusing.) Pennsylvania told me.

'Well that was blunt.'

'And a bit rude.'

That was another thing I had noticed about becoming independent. Before I declared independence I only knew English and French, and a little bit of Spanish. But I could understand German now. Did this have something to do with that fact that I didn't have an official language?

"Are you saying Dad's flag isn't good?" Delaware asked. Pennsylvania blushed.

"It is, I just want my own!" She said, switching back to English.

"It's alright Delaware. I understood what she meant. Besides, I want her to have her own flag as well, mainly because if all of you had my flag, well..." I said, trailing off.

"Yeah good point that'd be creepy." Delaware said.

"Ich werde mit meinen staatlichen Gesetzgebern darüber sprechen, mich zu einem Siegel zu machen." (I'm going to talk to my state legislators about making me a seal.) Pennsylvania said as she stood up.

'She's a day old and had the body of a ten year old.'

'And yet she speaks like she's thirty.'

"Pennsylvania, Penny, you can't do that. You look ten and you're a day old. We can send a letter and travel their after all of the states have ratified the Constitution if you still don't have a seal." I told her, the nickname slipping for. Pennsylvania looked thoughtful before crossing her arms.

"Fein." (Fine) she huffed out, sitting down on a chair.

"Be patient Penny. We'll get to it eventually." Delaware said.

"Says you. You already have a seal!" Pennsylvania said.

"Oh come on not all the states have seals." Delaware responded.

'Maryland and North Carolina need seals.'

'And Rhode Island got ahead by making a seal in the 1600s.'

"Like who?" Pennsylvania asked. Delaware blushed.

"Someone. I don't know." He said, embarrassed. Pennsylvania started laughing as Delaware's face turned more red.

"Penny don't laugh at your brother." I said. Fuck parenting feels weird. Why do I have to be the mature one?

————————————————————————

December 18, 1787

"Take him back. Why do we need him?" Delaware said after New Jersey came into existence.

'Del! You're supposed to be the mature one.'

"Hey Del fuck you." New Jersey said.

"Please don't fight. And Delaware how do you already hate him? He came into existence an hour ago." I asked, confused about why Delaware would pick a fight as soon as he got a new brother.

"Past grievances. He knows what he did." Delaware said. What does that mean?

'Wow he is petty about that.'

"Del I'm an hour old. There's no way I could of done whatever you think I did. We never existed before the ratification of the Constitution." New Jersey argued. Delaware rolled his eyes and then left.

"Können wir jetzt mein Siegel machen?" (Can we go make my seal now?) Pennsylvania asked. I sighed.

'She will not let that go will she?'

"After the other states come Penny. We have one out of thirteen. I'd rather not be on the road when one of you guys are born." I said.

"Aber es ist nicht so, dass der Rest der Staaten wichtig ist.  Der wichtigste Staat, ich, wurde geboren, also sind wir alle gut." (But it's not like the rest of the states are important. The most important state, me, has been born, so we're all good.) Pennsylvania said, causing New Jersey to bust into laughter.

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'Well now that that's just rude.'

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'I can't tell if she's being serious or if that's a joke.'

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

'SHUT UP!'

"Penny!" I said, trying to muffle my own amusement at the comment.

"Penny, I agree that every other state is horrible. The only thing wrong is when you said you were the most important. I could care less about you." New Jersey said.

"Jersey! You can't say that." I said. God I didn't feel like a good parent. What is I was fucking up and they didn't like me?

'Relax. You'll do fine.'

'The states are a part of you. They understand you.'

"I hate everyone." Was his response. I sighed. So far the states seems to be very unique. Delaware was mature, Pennsylvania was German, and New Jersey hated everyone. They were all so different. I was nervous about having to take care of thirteen children.

"Geht es dir gut, Vater?  Du siehst ängstlich aus." (Are you okay Father? You look anxious.) Pennsylvania said.

"I'm fine...just worried I'm not doing to be able to take care of you properly." I said.

"Well you do have help." I heard Vermont say from behind me. I turned around to see Vermont in the doorway to the room.

"Vermont? What are you doing here?" I asked, confused at why he was here.

"Helping. United, my country's land used to belong to yours. Technically your my dad, and I want to meet my siblings." Vermont said as he was walked into the room.

'Vermont's your kid too?'

'Well at least there's another mature one there.'

"I hadn't...I...I didn't realize." I said. Vermont shrugged.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to you have a crisis in the middle of your Revolution. Now that it's over and things are calming down, so your my dad." Vermont said.

"Then why weren't you born like the states?" I asked. The states caused a lot of pain in my head, and there is no way I didn't notice it. Vermont smiled.

"Papa, countries and states are different." He answered. That made sense. Things are so confusing right now.

"Hallo Vermont.  Bitte ignorieren Sie New Jersey, wenn er sagt, dass er Sie hasst.  Er hasst alle." (Hello Vermont. Please ignore New Jersey if he says he hates you. He hates everyone.) Pennsylvania said, looking up at Vermont.

"She's so tiny." Vermont said.

"Ich bin nicht winzig!  Del ist winzig!" (I'm not tiny! Del is tiny!) Pennsylvania protested.

"I'm not short!" Delaware said, walking up to stand next to Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania was taller than him by a lot. Vermont laughed.

"Sorry petit frère, but you are tiny." Vermont laughed out. Delaware huffed.

"I'm not tiny!"

——————————————————————————

January 2, 1788

Georgia was very soft spoken state. At first. She was actually very good insulting people without the realizing it. Delaware had to stop himself from laughing as Georgia insulted New Jersey without him realizing yet again.

"Del I know you hate me, but what are you laughing at?" New Jersey asked.

'How has he not realized he's being insulted yet?'

"New Jersey if you keep sayin' you hate everyone, you're goin' to make people mad." Georgia said.

"Like me, and Georgia." Delaware added, holding up a hand.

'Seriously, why does Del hate Jersey do much?'

'He doesn't hate Jersey, they just enjoy harping on each other.'

"Okay quit harping on me Del. I get it." New Jersey said. Pennsylvania and Georgia rolled their eyes. Vermont gave me a confused look. I shrugged. The four existing states seemed to have some sort of history together, despite the oldest of them being twenty-six days old.

"Did you guys exist before your became states?" Vermont asked. New Jersey's eyes widened slightly, but he, Georgia, and Pennsylvania denied it. I looked at Delaware, who was holding his head in his hands.

'Oh. That's...a question.'

"Del?" I asked. Delaware looked up.

"Vad?  Mitt huvud gör ont.  Jag tror att jag drabbades hårt." (What? My head hurts. I think I was hit hard.) Delaware said, his eyes looking glassy. Swedish? Why was he speaking Swedish? And why did he think he head been hit.

'Del?'

'Is he alright?'

"Delaware? Are you okay?" I asked. The glassiness cleared from Delaware's eyes.

"Yes. Why are you asking?" He said.

"Your started speakin' another language." Georgia said. Realization appeared in Delaware's eyes.

"Oh yeah. I realized that. Sorry, I've been having weird dreams." Delaware said. Why would weird dreams cause him to start speaking Swedish?

"Are you sure?" Pennsylvania asked. Delaware nodded.

"Why'd you think we existed before we became states Vermont?" New Jersey asked. Vermont shrugged.

"You seem to have a history, and I don't know, it just feels like you guys are older than you're supposed to be." Vermont said. New Jersey shrugged.

"I'm just as old as I'm supposed to be." New Jersey said.

'Well that's cryptic.'

'But he ain't wrong.'

"Do you know when other southern states are joining?" Georgia asked. I shook my head.

"The South wanted stronger state governments as opposed to stronger federal government. The rest of the South will probably ratify it after a lot of the northern states." I explained. Georgia looked disappointed.

"Hey, I'm a southern state, kind of, at least. I'll be your south buddy until another one joins." Delaware said, hugging Georgia. She smiled.

"Thank you Del." She said. Pennsylvania opened her mouth.

'Pleased don't bring up the seal.'

"Stop asking about the fucking seal Penny." New Jersey said.

"I wasn't even going to ask about that." She protested. I smiled. The states seemed unusually mature so far, but that might just be because their states and governments have been around for a long time.

I'll probably have younger and less mature states as time goes on and new states are added.

Hopefully I'll be ready for that. And hopefully things don't end the way they did with British Empire.

—————————————————————

January 9, 1788

"Hello Connecticut. My name was actually Republic of New Connecticut for a little bit." Vermont said as he greeted the new state.

"You should of kept that name." Connecticut responded. Vermont smiled.

"Well my people are also called the New Hampshire Grants." Vermont added on.

'No he should of kept that name.'

"Stop stealing people's names!" New Jersey called from the other room, were he, Pennsylvania, and Delaware were.

"I didn't chose them!" Vermont yelled back.

"Well now I don't like you as much. I though you were cool because you named yourself after me, finding out your name changed was disappointing, but since you don't pick it you no longer the best brother." Connecticut said, causing Georgia to start laughing incredibly hard, while Vermont looked offended.

'I don't think we're capable of being nice to each other.'

"Merci." (Thank you.) he said before leaving the room.

"I like Connecticut." New Jersey said, sticking his head into the room.

'Probably because they both like insulting everyone they meet.'

"Of course you do." Georgia sighed out, shaking her head, trying to stifle the remains of her laugher.

"What is that supposed to mean?" New Jersey asked, walking into the room. Connecticut raised an eyebrow.

"I think she's trying to say we're both rude or something." Connecticut said. New Jersey rolled his eyes.

"I'm not rude, I'm just painfully honest." He protested, causing Georgia to raise an eyebrow.

'There is a line between rude and honest, and you crossed it.'

'Well he does speak his mind. And his mind is rude to others.'

'So he's both rude and painfully honest?'

Connecticut raised up his hand.

"I agree with that." He said. New Jersey gestured towards Connecticut.

"See!" He said, smiling. I smiled. That was the first time I had seen New Jersey smile.

"Jersey you should smile more." I said. New Jersey looked shocked, then embarrassed.

"I didn't smile. I don't smile. I hate everyone and I'm incredibly rude." He said.

"What happened to painfully honest?" Connecticut asked. New Jersey frowned.

"Things change." He said before leaving the room.

"If things change you should change your hair. It could look better." Georgia remarked as he left the room, making Connecticut smile.

I love my kids, but the more of them that came, the more worried I became. The states seem to already have pre-existing rifts between them, and I didn't want to make things worse. I didn't want to hurt my kids the way British Empire hurt me.

This is gonna be split up into 3 parts, with the other parts each having 4 states.

[kabira]

02 | team project

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — this is a little rushed, sorry ;-; i haven’t updated in two weeks despite only having posted the pilot so i was like !! ahh !! gotta update !! and here it is, your first ever (and very brief) appearance. i’ll edit it soon! as usual, send me an ask or dm if you want to be added to the taglist <3

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“Is this about me leaving Rhino on Midtown’s front porch?” Vernon demanded. “Because if it is, I’ll have you know that I left him in good hands—”

 "Calm down, Wonder Kid," Fury said. He didn't look amused like Vernon had hoped, which meant that whatever he'd come here to talk about was serious. Well, what else should he have expected from the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.? "It's not about that. Well—not entirely. It's about the good hands you mentioned."

Vernon narrowed his eyes. He'd met Fury a few times before, and never during favorable conditions. The last time he's seen the guy, Spider-Man had almost been pummeled to death by none other than the Goblin himself. "They said something about bringing him to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered. "I should have guessed."

Fury didn't respond, instead reaching inside his jacket to bring out an envelope. He threw the open envelope onto the table in front of Vernon, making a few pictures half spill out from inside. "You know what that is?"

Vernon glanced at him suspiciously before slowly picking up the pictures and going through them. Each of them was a glossy shot of various locations in New York, and all of them had a major recurring theme—the places were completely trashed. Overturned cars, building walls with holes in them, bent lampposts. Wearily, he set the pictures down face-up on the table, then looked up at the man, who stared back with an unreadable expression on his face.

A beat passed. "Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Jesus, kid," Fury muttered. "All of those pictures were taken moments after a fight between you and one of your fanclub members. Now, I'm not saying I don't appreciate you taking care of a couple of minor criminals in the city—"

"Minor criminals?"

"—but I can't let you treat the place like it's your neighborhood playpen," he finished. Next to him, the pretty agent-slash-counselor sat with her legs folded, her surprisingly stern gaze fixed on Vernon. The attention made him squirm. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a global defense organization, for god's sake. We don't have the time to clean up after kids who don't know even know their three Rs."

"Let me guess," Vernon said, "rock, roll, ramble?"

"Even your wisecracks aren't funny anymore, kid." Fury shook his head.

Ouch. "That hurt my feelings."

The man glared at him out of his one good eye. "You can't keep going like this forever," he said. "You're on your way to be one of the greats—don't look at me like that, hell if I'm gonna repeat that—but the big guys take care of their messes. They don't leave poor innocent civilians behind to get new paint jobs on their Kias. All that damage your careless fighting left behind, who's gonna take care of that?"

"Insurance?" Vernon suggested. Agent Fox cracked a smile, warming his insides. Her sitting aside in silence as Fury chewed him out was a little unnerving. He wondered if looking on silently while high-rankers lectured kids was something she had to do regularly. You gotta have a heart of ice to sit through that.

"You are," Fury said grimly, and Vernon blinked. "And you're gonna start today."

"What was it that you really wanted?" Vernon asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making his t-shirt stretch tight over his biceps. He really needed to go shopping. "You can't tell me the world's best spy came all the way to some backwater high school just to lecture a kid about cleanliness being next to godliness."

"You're a special case, Parker," Fury said, and Vernon placed a hand over his heart, mockingly going aw. "And you're right. I'm not here just to lecture you about your repeated careless mistakes, I'm here to help you fix them."

Vernon looked at him suspiciously, already wary of what was to come next. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"You've already shown me multiple times you can't do it yourself," Fury said. "Look, kid, here's the thing: you have a problem, and I have a problem. I also happen to have a joint solution to both."

Vernon slumped in his chair. Here it comes. "What problem could you possibly have? Nuclear warheads threatening to destroy civilians' Kias in Manhattan?"

"You really gotta work on those one-liners." Fury sighed. "There's a group of kids in the Helicarrier like you—up-and-coming superheroes in need of some real-world experience. They've got the training you need to handle jobs with efficiency, and you have the practical experience. They've got the goods—just like you—but nowhere real to practice them."

"You mean those guys," Vernon said, sitting up and recalling the three who had helped him in the fight against Rhino. "You mean—you want me to teach them?"

"I want you to work with them," Fury said. "Train with them, fight with them, lead what could be the next greatest team of post-humans."

"So basically, your solution is to sic a bunch of newbies on me as some kind of damage control," Vernon said angrily. "And what if I refuse?"

"Nothing," the spy answered simply. "You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official jurisdiction yet, so I can't do anything to you even if I want to—unless, of course, I absolutely have to. You're allowed to walk out of here right now, but I can't guarantee that that's gonna work out for you."

Vernon considered this. He knew a threat when he heard one, even when it wasn't a yell of SPIDER-MAN, I'M GONNA KILL YOU, but he also knew that Nick Fury's threats weren't always real threats. However, he did not like his chances.

"As long as they stay out of my business," he muttered, knowing that was the one thing they were least likely to do. He knew how closely teams operated, and it didn't take his spider sense to figure out that this team was going to be much nosier than that. He recalled the annoyed scowl on that Nova guy's face, and internally shuddered.

"It's a deal," Fury said pleasantly, as if Vernon had any choice but to accept the so-called 'deal'. "I'll be checking in regularly, so bear in mind that I'll know if you ever kill one of your teammates and throw their body into the East River."

"I would never go to that much trouble," he replied equally pleasantly, getting up. Then he glanced at the clock, and scowled. "I can't believe you made me skip my biology quiz for five minutes of parental guidance."

"Oh, I'd never lie to a teacher, kid," Fury said, patting his shoulder as he passed him. "A counseling session I promised, and a counseling session you will get."

Vernon glanced at the other agent in dismay, but she only smiled—whether in amusement or reassurance, he couldn't tell. She clicked her pen, picking up the pad, her eyes twinkling. "Settle down, Spider-Man," she said. "This will only take forty minutes."

Vernon almost considered opting out of eating in the cafeteria, but changed his mind at the last moment, knowing it was the only time other than first period biology he got to see Joshua on Mondays. He desperately needed to vent, and his bespectacled friend was the only one who even came close to understanding to the layers of his identity, one of which was a deep-rooted hatred for the universal authority on superheroes.

So he stalked right into lunch, barely noticing the gunk of whatever-it-was thwacking into his plastic tray, and headed for their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. He didn't need to go that far to get to Joshua, however, as the blue-haired boy almost walked smack into him as he made his way there.

"Woah, woah, steady," Joshua said, grabbing his bicep to prevent them from colliding. "Why are you making like a steamroller towards that innocent little table? And what the hell were you during biology? What was that about?"

Vernon cast a careful glance around the cafeteria, at the crowd of people, one of which could easily overhear them in the close range. "I'll give you the details later," he murmured. "The cusp of the matter is: Fury blackmailed me into signing up for a team activity."

"Wait, wait, wait, Nick Fury?" Joshua asked in awe as they walked over to the table, gripping his tray tightly and hunching his shoulders, leaning slightly towards Vernon in interest. "You mean he was here, in this school?"

"Not even the first time, Josh."

"Not the—" Joshua shook his head, as if shooing away the thoughts. "Okay. Filing that information away for further perusal later. So you're telling me Nick Fury, super-spy, came to this place—" he spread his arms, indicating the school— "to talk to you. Man, sometimes I forget Spider-Man's supposed to be a household name."

"Shut up," Vernon hissed, casting a furtive glance at a heavily tattooed blonde who passed them by closely. "But yeah. And he asked me to team up with these noobs from the S.H.I.E.L.D. future program or something."

Joshua frowned. "But that's kind of cool, though, right?"

"Not if they're gonna slow me down," he replied. "Spider-Man's always operated alone, and—wait, what the hell?"

He stopped in his tracks right before the table, a stunned expression on his face. Joshua raised his eyebrows, following his gaze to the table, which was, surprisingly enough, already occupied.

She was there, of course, at her usual seat, the third from the left, except she was not alone. There was another girl, with dark hair and piercing eyes, picking at a soggy fry with her lips pursed. Next to her was a brooding blond with freckles that stood out against his shockingly pale skin. Last, but not the least, was the boy with the tanned skin who was making Vernon's best friend laugh so hard she was doubled over, a familiar cocky edge to his smile.

"Ah," Joshua said.

Lucy Langdon was one of Vernon's, and therefore Spider-Man's, biggest pressure points. She was also one of the only ones who had been left virtually untouched by all his superhero shenanigans, and he wanted to keep it that way. Though she was smart enough keep up with a few new trainees, as far as Vernon was concerned, she was strictly off-limits. Even to superheroes who could fly and called themselves Nova.

Vernon stalked over to the table and slammed his tray on the surface so hard he made everyone jump. Then he glared at the boy sitting next to her, the one with the bronzed skin, as Joshua stood by awkwardly. "You're in my seat," he said pointedly.

The boy cocked a lazy eyebrow, gesturing to the unoccupied seats opposite him. "I don't see your name on it."

Vernon ground his teeth, raising his hand (no doubt to petulantly slam it down on the table next to his tray) but Joshua grabbed his wrist, giving him a meaningful look. "Don't start anything that can be easily avoided," he muttered to the boy, and Vernon relented, albeit grudgingly.

"You're late," Lucy said conversationally, though your voice was higher than usual, probably because of the sudden tension that had descended upon the table. Vernon sat down slowly, still glaring at the boy, and she glanced at Joshua, who only shrugged. "These are, uhm, they're new."

"I figured," Vernon muttered.

"Three in one day? And this late into the year?" Joshua wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows. "Now I'm curious."

"Nothing worth your curiosity, I'm afraid," the new girl replied. Her eyes, when they swept over Vernon, were watchful and aware. "Just a coincidence. I was supposed to join earlier but there was a family emergency. As for these two, I can only guess." Her smile was small but sharp. "I'm Yeji."

"Felix," said the blond. He looked gloomy, but maybe it was just because of the unhealthy-looking pallor of his skin.

"And I'm Yangyang," the last boy said, with an impish grin that rubbed Vernon the wrong way. He already knew who these three were supposed to be—actually, everyone was supposed to know Felix, since Iceman was already a pretty famous member of the X-Men. Surely dyed hair couldn't be the only change needed to disguise that face? "Me and Felix are cousins, actually."

"Felix and I," Vernon mumbled under his breath, and Lucy gave him a look which he ignored. "Since when did you start taking people in for charity?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Be nice," she said. "They were in my Home Economics class, and if it hadn't been for Yeji here, I might have blown up the marble cake I was supposed to be making."

Joshua frowned. "How?"

"A story for another day." She smiled an unreadable smile, dark eyes sparkling. "Now—"

"No," Vernon said.

She glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated. Then, as jerkily as he had sat down, he got up, and jabbed a finger at the new arrivals in turn, before pointing over his shoulder. "You three," he said venomously, "to the corridor. Now."

"Aw, man, I can't believe you're being so sensitive about this," Yangyang—Nova—complained loudly, though there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he followed Vernon into the hallway. "So Fury transferred us into your school without checking with you first. Big deal. What are you supposed to be, the queen of England?"

Vernon gave him a spiteful look, but otherwise ignored his remark. Instead, he focused on Yeji, who was watching him patiently, because she looked like the most sensible member of the group. He stared at her for a long moment, struggling to find the words that would convey the exact measure of his indignance. "Why?" he asked finally, giving up.

She shrugged helplessly. "Look, we didn't ask for this, either," she answered. "We're under orders, so it's not like we can just up and leave. Huddling in the hallway isn't a smart decision, either—we already have all eyes on us because of being the three new kids who randomly joined on the same day, and this is only making us look even more suspicious."

Vernon glared at her, trying to think of a good argument, then gave up. He turned on Felix, who was standing off to the side with folded arms, still looking uninterested in the conversation. "You," he said, narrowing his eyes, "you're Iceman."

Felix looked at him neutrally. "Yes."

"You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.," Vernon said, pointing an accusatory finger. "And you have enough real-world experience, so there's no reason for you to be here instead of with the X-Men—"

"Dude," Felix said frostily; no pun intended. "Drop it."

Yeji nodded, giving Vernon a meaningful look he could not decipher.

"Aw, come on, web-head," Yangyang interjected. "We saved your life and you didn't even thank us, but I'll let that go since your manners aren't exactly polished. But this is just boring."

"It is not," Vernon seethed. "I'll talk to Fury—"

Yangyang snorted. "Good luck with that."

"—or the principal—"

"The new principal," Yeji muttered. "Agent Coulson."

Vernon made an exasperated noise. "The only reason I even agreed to Fury's stupid offer was because I thought it would get him off my case!" he yelled. "School is the only part of my life that's separate from all the wacky crap I have to deal with otherwise, and now even that—" He clenched his teeth. "If I'd known it meant having you people barge into my life like this—"

"Then you couldn't have done anything about it, even knowing," Yeji said, gently cutting him off. "Face it, hero. You're stuck with us as much as we're stuck with you—whether any of us like it or not."

[dazzlingstarlight]

25 words for Maggie/OA

Hi everyone! I just finished the 25 word challenge for Maggie and OA! It was definitely a great writing exercise - it turned out as sort of a mix of canons and headcanons and some other ideas - and they do get pretty shippy, so be warned, but if you like Maggie/OA, I hope you enjoy reading. Thank you for the writing words and thank you for encouraging my Maggie/OA obsession!

1. Rumor

There’s a lot of commotion down at the police station today, and a few of the officers are whispering about why the Feds are here – as in the Federal Bureau of Investigation – and rumor has it they’re offering Officer Maggie Bell a new job.

 2. Career

Jason says that he’s happy working as a small town news reporter and that he doesn’t want to leave Indiana, but when the FBI offers his wife a job in New York City, he decides that reporting in the Big Apple isn’t a bad career move either.

 3. Dull

Maggie is devastated after Jason’s death and the emptiness inside of her is so consuming that she devotes everything she has left to her job because it’s the only thing that dulls the pain.

 4. Captain

Maggie hasn’t known her new partner for very long, so when she finds a photo hidden away in his desk, she’s surprised to recognize a young Captain Omar Zidan dressed in Army fatigues.

5. Restaurant

When his restaurant in Little Egypt is rebuilt after the bombing, Mr. Samra is delighted to have OA bring his beautiful partner for dinner, and he loves the way Maggie smiles as she tastes each dish, and he thinks that OA secretly loves her smile, too.

 6. Weapon

Kristen admires the way Maggie and OA work together and the way they always have each other’s backs in the field, so when Scola reminds her how to hold her weapon, Kristen wonders if she’ll ever be good enough to have his back in the same way.

 7. Dress

Maggie feels a little awkward wearing such a tight, skimpy dress tonight, but the amount of skin she’s showing easily catches their suspect’s eye, and she’s glad that OA takes him down because she doesn’t even want to think about tackling a suspect in this outfit.

 8. Friend

OA has never been to Indiana before, and he laughs when Maggie and her childhood best friend squeal like the teenagers they were when they last saw each other, and then he blushes a little when her friend looks him over critically and asks Maggie why she doesn’t bring handsome men back to Indiana more often.

 9. Explosive

She’s heard it before, that dangerous tick-tock of a timer, and it doesn’t take Maggie long to find the explosives buried under the floor, and then she’s screaming for everyone to get out, but it’s too late and she’s thrown from the building in a blast of fire and shrapnel, and she’s only conscious enough to realize that OA is carrying her to safety before she blacks out in his arms.

 10. Shower

Maggie carefully eases herself into the shower, flinching a little as the hot water washes away the blood and grime and pain from the explosion where she was just a little too close, and she can hear OA knocking on the other side of the door, asking if she’s okay, so she turns off the water and wraps a towel around her battered body and opens the door to let him in.

 11. Loyalty

Isobel is proud to offer OA a promotion in another FBI office, an opportunity to lead his own team and mentor a younger partner who would no doubt learn from him, and yet she isn’t surprised when he turns it down because of his loyalty to the partner he already has.

 12. Dreams

Anna is a young, pretty housewife, and Maggie hates deceiving her while undercover because the two women become friends over coffee and conversation about life, love, and dreams – and it only takes one bullet for Maggie to destroy all of Anna’s dreams.

 13. Tears

Anna takes her last breath before she crumples to the floor, and Maggie struggles to hold back tears as FBI agents breach the house to make sixteen arrests and Special Agent Nestor Vertiz takes Maggie’s hand and leans in close, dropping a kiss on her cheek and telling her that the undercover operation is finally over.

 14. Stance

Maggie can already see it coming when OA and Nestor start on round number...well, she’s lost count of how many times her partner and her boyfriend have gone at it so far today, but both men take on that aggressive stance and that steely glare where neither one will back down – and once again, Maggie is stuck in the middle.

 15. Kids

When Maggie sees the photos of Nestor’s beautiful, smiling kids, so many emotions collide inside of her, the anger at Nestor for not telling her about them, the jealousy that he has something that she wants so badly, the sadness that Jason was taken from her before they even had the chance, and the nagging suspicion that maybe Nestor isn’t the man she wants to father her children.

 16. Car

Maggie is frantic as she hears the muffled cries for help coming from inside the car, and OA doesn’t even think twice about smashing the car window, and it’s not until Maggie pulls the little girl safely into her arms that she decides the father of her own children will be the man who won’t ever think twice about smashing a car window to rescue them.

 17. Drift

Sometimes OA wonders if maybe he and Maggie have drifted apart; she was undercover for a long time and he’s teamed up with numerous partners since then, but since she’s been back, they argue more and they don’t always see eye-to-eye on their cases, and they don’t share as many take-out meals together and they just don’t laugh like they used to.

 18. Switch

Jubal assigns OA to track down a suspect with Tiffany while Scola questions witnesses on the street with Maggie, and OA appreciates Tiffany’s commitment to the case and Maggie is amused by Scola’s easygoing quips, but after it’s over, they ask Jubal why he switched their partners, and he just shrugs, saying he must have temporarily lost his mind...but of course they don’t believe him.

 19. Hug

When they return to 26 Fed and run into each other getting off the elevator, there’s a moment of awkwardness where Scola and Tiffany quickly take the hint to depart, and then OA wraps Maggie in his arms and hugs her tightly because maybe this is the start of getting his partner back.

 20. Silk

It’s not OA’s first undercover assignment, but it’s the first time his alias has been a billionaire, and Maggie wants to tease him about the designer suit with a price tag higher than his salary, but he’s already on his way out because there’s a limousine waiting for him, and she’s just fast enough to grab him by the tie, crushing the delicate silk in her hand so she can say OA, be careful.

 21. Argument

Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Maggie snaps, angrily yanking her hand away from OA’s grasp, but he retaliates by grabbing her arm and roughly hauling her down the street, muttering something about keeping his woman in line, and then he presses her against the wall in a dark alley, away from the street cams, and his voice is instantly soft and apologetic against her ear, asking if she thinks their suspect bought their little act.

 22. Hoodie

The young man takes off running before Maggie can even call out FBI, don’t move, and she sprints after him, worried that she’s going to lose him in the crowd because he’s wearing a hoodie that partially hides his face, but another hooded figure tackles him to the ground before she can catch up to him and Maggie finds herself grinning a little breathlessly as OA pulls off his hood and slaps handcuffs on their suspect.

 23. Dinner

Isobel has said more than once that the FBI always gets their man, and this one has been a long, grueling manhunt, but the end result is justice, so she says good work, all of you, and Jubal tells them to go home, and Scola invites Maggie and OA out for a drink with him and Tiffany, but they both decline because they already have dinner plans.

 24. Tonight

OA waits for her on the step outside her apartment, and she’s exhausted after the long day they’ve both had, so she starts to rethink going out to dinner, but he already knows and brings dinner with him instead, and Maggie smiles gratefully and melts a little under the heat in his gaze, and when they both step inside, she thinks that maybe she’ll ask him to stay tonight.

 25. Promise

The first light of dawn doesn’t wake OA like it usually does because he’s sleeping with Maggie nestled against his side, and she’s always been the one he wants by his side, whether it’s taking down some of the worst criminals or disarming some of the most high-tech bombs or simply lying next to her in his dreams, because throughout it all, their partnership doesn’t ever waver, and OA knows that someday he’ll slide a diamond on her left hand and promise to be her partner for life.