#my shift between soft jinx to this is crazy

[sadiesdoll]

sevika with a breeding kink. ♡ | 2 |

drunk!sevika x reader. | sevika is cumming inside of you !! (mdni ♡) sevika with a breeding kink. ♡ (1)

contains: breeding kink, forced drooling, spit play, praise kink, body praise, worship kink, clit play, daddy kink (im sorry.), size kink, finger sucking, hair pulling, strength kink, magic dick growing potion thingy, possessive language, mirror sex, alcohol use (both parties intoxicated but consenting), backshots, thigh riding & aftercare ♡

a/n: the content warnings are scaring me omg I promise it’s not that hardcore.. more desperate!sevika for yew guys cus ily ♡

Enjoy ♡

Jinx blinks. Just once. Then again.

“..You good?"

Sevika looks like sin incarnate—glassy red eyes, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, arms caged tight around your waist like she'll die if she lets go. You're straddling her, panting, flushed, and trembling.

You don't even speak. You just nod, slow and stiff.

Jinx stares for a second longer. Then, as if her brain suddenly boots back up, she gags. "NOPE—NO, actually—you two are sick—freaks—I'm leaving."

The door slams shut before you can even say anything.

Silence.

Then Sevika exhales through her nose, a deep, strangled sound—half-laugh, half-panic.

"She saw," she slurs.

"She's gone," you whisper, still seated on her lap, still catching your breath.

You lean in, nose brushing hers.

"Breathe, baby. You're okay."

Sevika doesn't answer. She trembles.

You can feel her hands still gripping your hips like a lifeline.

Her eyes flicker open. They're darker than before. Wrecked.

"I'm not," she mumbles. "I'm fucking not. You don't get it—You don't—"

"Shhh..." you coo. You kiss the corner of her mouth. "What's goin' on in that crazy brain, huh?"

She huffs. "I can't stop. I can't stop thinking about it. About you. Fuck—look at you—sitting on me like that—grinding like that—your fuckin' body—your smell—your heat—your thighs, fuck-"

Your brows lift in faux-innocence. "You wanna get me pregnant, huh?"

She freezes.

You shift your hips just a little, grinding down soft and slow.

Her head drops back against the floor, a rasp torn from her throat.

You smile, mean and sweet. "You wanna cum so bad inside me, don't you?"

"Keep doing that," she begs, voice raw.

"Say that shit. Say it again." You roll your hips harder, taking your time. Her hands slide to your ass, squeezing so hard it burns.

"Want me like this?" you purr. "You want me slow, needy, makin' a mess on your lap while you try to hold it all in for me?"

"Fuck," she groans. "Don't stop—don't you dare stop—“

The moment stretches. Gets heavier. Wetter. The wet spot between your thighs grows, soaking through your shorts and onto her jeans, darkening the denim right where her cock would be. You know she feels it. Her body shudders.

Sevika lifts her head. Looks down. Sees it.

And her entire soul exits her body.

"Oh my God," she whispers. Like she's seen an angel. "You're soaked."

You smile slow. "I know.”

"I didn't even touch you yet," she says in awe. "Didn't even—fuck—what the fuck."

Her hand slides between your bodies, cupping you right over the wet patch.

You whimper, and she moans right with you, palm flexing.

"You're like—dripping." She's talking to herself now. "Just from grinding. That's—fuck, baby."

You lean down, breath warm against her ear. "You're lucky I love you like this."

Then she snaps.

She grabs your thighs, stands up with you still straddling her, and walks straight to the bedroom, jaw clenched like a man on a mission.

You yelp. "Baby—!"

She throws you onto the bed—soft but heavy, just enough to knock the air from your lungs.

Then she rushes to the dresser and pulls out a little vial of glowing, dark-blue liquid.

You stare. "What is that..?"

Sevika hesitates. Her fingers are trembling.

"It's a potion," she mutters. "Magic. I—I got it from this guy. At that fucked up bar in Stillwater."

You blink. "Okaaaay... what does it do?"

She swallows hard. "It gives me a cock.

A real one. For an hour."

Your stomach drops. "Wait—what?"

"I've been keeping it," she says, voice low, raw with shame. "For months. I didn't know if you'd want it—if you'd hate it—I didn't wanna scare you. But I can't—fuck—baby, I need you. I can't pretend anymore."

You sit up slowly, eyes softening. "You kept that from me?"

"I'm sorry," she chokes. "I was scared. I didn't want you to think I was fucked in the head. I just—please tell me you're not mad. Please—please tell me you still want this."

You crawl to the edge of the bed, cup her face, and whisper, "I-I want you in every way you want me.”

And that's when she loses her mind— 

Her eyes—fucking blown, wild, locked on you like a starving animal—flicker to your face as if asking one last time. One last chance to back out. One last breath before drowning.

You nod, panting. “It’s okay.”

And you just whisper, "Do it, Sev."

Your lips just barely touch hers when Sevika grabs your hips and rolls you underneath her.

"Lay back," she growls. Her voice is wrecked. "Show me."

You obey instantly, falling onto your back, thighs already spread for her.

Sevika crawls over you, hovering—one knee between your legs, one hand braced beside your head, the other still clutching that glowing blue vial like her life depends on it.

"You sure?" she breathes.

"Sevika," you whisper, trembling,

"Drink it."

She pops the cork with her teeth and downs it in one gulp.

The change is instant. Her whole body jolts, muscles tightening beneath her skin. She groans through gritted teeth, grabbing at the bedframe like she's grounding herself. Then her eyes snap open, bloodshot and wide.

And you feel it. A hot, pulsing pressure growing between her legs. She shudders, staring down at you like she's about to lose her mind.

"I can feel it," she pants. "Fuck—I can feel you already-"

You whimper. "C'mere, baby. Let me see."

She leans back, undoes her belt with shaking hands, and drags her jeans down her hips. You blink—

And your whole body goes stiff.

Thick. Heavy. Veiny. Leaking.

"Oh…. my God."

Sevika's face is pure, desperate hunger.

"You still want this, right?"

Your legs fall open wider. "I need it."

She moans like she's already inside you.

"Fuck, fuck—Baby, look at you—“

Her hands roam like she doesn't know where to touch first. She palms your tits, mouth crashing down to suck and bite at your nipples until you're whining and arching under her. One hand moves lower, sliding between your legs, feeling how wet you are—

"Shit," she pants. "You're dripping. You're gonna take all of it, yeah?"

You nod frantically. "Yes, baby—I promise. Just fuck me—please—“

"No," she whispers. "Not like this."

She grabs you and manhandles your body off the bed, dragging you toward the giant floor mirror mounted to the wall. She kneels behind you, legs spread, guiding your ass down onto her lap.

"Want you to watch," she growls, licking a stripe up your neck. "Want you to see yourself cum all over me."

You moan as her tip nudges your cunt.

She holds you tight. "You ready, angel?"

You whimper. "Fuck me, Daddy—please—“

Sevika freezes. Her breath catches. Her arms flex around you like she might break in half.

“...Say that again."

You smirk, eyes hazy. "Please, Daddy. I want it so bad—I wanna feel all of you—“

She slams up into you in one deep, brutal thrust.

You scream.

Her hand clamps over your mouth, muffling the cry as her cock slams to the hilt. Your eyes roll back. Your stomach bulges—visibly. Sevika sees it in the mirror, sees the thick outline of her dick pressing up through your gut— and she fucking collapses.

She bends low, breath hitching, kissing a trail down your trembling torso while she moans against your skin.

“Look," she breathes, mouth still on your throat, voice muffled and shaky. Her hand grabs your jaw, turns you to the mirror. 

"Look what I'm doing to you," she slurs against your skin, still kissing between the words like she can't help herself.

"Mmm—Too big—“ you whimper.

"You're taking it," she growls. "You're fuckin' made for it—"

Her free hand slides down your body, rubbing messy, wet circles over your clit. You gasp, thighs twitching.

"Mmngh! Sev—!”

"Such a good fuckin' girl," she slurs. "So pretty—so full—Daddy's got you, yeah?"

You nod frantically, tears running down your face. "I'm yours—fuck—I'm yours-“

She grabs your chin and shoves two fingers into your mouth. "Suck."

You moan and obey, drool spilling out, running down your chin and soaking her whole hand. Sevika groans, fucking up into you harder, faster, letting your spit coat her fingers before pulling them out and shoving them between your legs, rubbing your clit with your own spit.

“Ohhh—fuck—Fuckfuckfuck—“

"Like that? Like when I force you to drool all over me?" she growls. "So messy—so fuckin' wet—You're dripping all over my fingers—“

You try to respond, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. Sevika leans in and bites your shoulder, hard, as her hips snap up again.

"Beg," she pants. "Say it. Say ‘Please, Daddy.'"

"Please, Daddy," you sob. "Please please please—don't stop—I need it—"

Her pace gets brutal.

Every thrust hits deep, hitting the same spot over and over until your whole body's shaking, your gut visibly bulging with every slam.

"Feel that?" she hisses. "That's how deep I am. Nobody else'll ever get this far, baby—nobody."

Your legs buckle. She holds you up.

You clench around her, so close it hurts.

"Holy shit—I-I'm gonna cum—“

"No," she growls, and suddenly pulls out—

You squeal.

"Fuck—!"

"Face down. Ass up. Now."

“Why—“

“Do it.”

You scramble to obey, legs shaking, falling into position on the bed. Sevika climbs behind you, grabs your hair, and yanks.

"Good girl," she pants. "So fuckin' obedient for me."

She slides in again—deeper than before. You scream into the pillows.

Sevika watches your body in the mirror, sees you arching back into her, taking every inch like you were made for it.

"Say it again," she begs. "Say 'Daddy."

Tears run down your face. "Daddy—Daddy please—don't stop—“

She whimpers, "Fuck—I love it when you call me that, princess."

She leans over you, chest to your back, hand sneaking under to rub your clit again.

"You're gonna cum for me," she whispers. "Gonna milk me for everything l've got. Gonna take it like a good little cumslut. You want me to breed you, baby?"

You nod, sobbing. 

"F—Fuck," she gasps, voice cracking.

"Baby—I'm close—shit—gonna cum-"

You twist around to look at her, barely able to breathe. "Y-you're gonna cum?" you whisper, clenching around her on purpose. "You gonna fill me up, Sev?"

She groans, nearly folding over you, arms trembling. "Fuck—fuck—don't say that—"

"Why not?" you whisper, teasing, lips brushing her jaw. "Don't I feel so good around you? Y—Fuck—You like how I squeeze you, baby?"

"So fucking good," she chokes out, rolling her hips deeper, slower. "You're perfect, shit—l- fuck—I can’t—“

She bites your neck and cums inside you with a guttural moan, hips stuttering as she fills you to the brim. You break with her, crying out as your orgasm hits, walls fluttering around her cock as she throbs inside you.

Your reflection shows it all—your open mouth, your tears, her possessive grip, her whole body trembling against yours.

She stays inside. Doesn't move. Just pants into your shoulder, arms wrapped around you like a cage.

"Fuck," she whispers. "You're mine."

You whimper softly, your body limp in her hold—but Sevika doesn't pull out.

Instead, she presses a slow kiss to the back of your shoulder. Then another, lower. Her mouth trails down, lazy and warm, brushing over your spine. 

You twitch, breath catching when her lips dip lower, lower, until she's kissing the curve of your lower back.

She groans quietly, hands gripping your hips—then sliding down to squeeze your ass, possessive and worshipful.

"Fuck," she mutters against your skin, voice raspy, almost delirious. "Look at you... look at this perfect fuckin' body..."

You whine, cheek smushed against the pillow. "Sev..."

But she's not done. She climbs back up, her front still flush to your back, cock still inside you, thick and twitching. She presses soft, open-mouthed kisses behind your ear, down your neck, her breath hot and uneven.

"You're so fucking beautiful," she slurs, like she's drunk on you. "Your little sounds, your body—mine, all mine—I'm so fucking lucky..."

You moan softly, overwhelmed, gasping when her hips roll again—slowly, deeply, dragging her still-hard cock along your overstimulated walls.

"Fuck—Sev..." you whimper, thighs shaking, "s-still?"

"Mmhm," she hums into your ear, voice thick with need. "Still hard, baby. You feel too good. Gotta ride it out..."

She thrusts again, slow and deep and praising, her grip firm on your hips. You try to keep up, try to arch your back again for her, but your arms shake and your body sags.

You let out a broken little cry, muffled into the sheets. "I'm tired... it's too much f'me..."

Sevika's hands slide up your sides, holding you gently but firmly. Her lips graze your ear again.

"Mmno," she murmurs. "Don't do that, baby. Don't go soft on me now."

You whimper again, already crying. "C-can't..."

"Yes, you can," she whispers, voice tender but commanding. "Just a little more, princess. C'mon, arch that pretty back for me. Be good for Daddy..."

She kisses your temple, then nips your earlobe as her hips start rocking again—slow, deliberate, drawing out every second of the overstimulation like she's savoring your cries.

"You were made for this," she breathes.

"Made for me."

Your voice is broken, whimpery, barely a whisper: "You feel so good inside me..."

Sevika stills, chest heaving against your back. "Yeah?" she breathes, low and rough, almost like it hurts to speak.

You nod fast, breath catching. "I love it. I love your dick so much, Sev—I love the way it makes me feel so full—safe.. nobody has ever made me feel like this before.”

She groans.

“And nobody ever will.” She grits out. “Love splitting you open like this.. and actually feeling it—feeling you.”

You whisper, trembling, “You fit so perfect, Sev..”

”I know, angel.” She whispers so softly you barely heard it.

"Still leaking out of you..." she mumbles, voice raspy, thick with awe. "Fuck. Look at that. You're dripping, baby."

Her thumbs spread you just to see it-her cum sliding out of your swollen pussy in slow, messy rivulets. Her cock still buried deep, keeping it inside like a plug. She watches it for a second. Then thrusts again.

Slow. Deep. Possessive.

She plants more kisses down your neck, “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y’know that?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You're barely coherent by the time she slows down. Just soft, choked whimpers escaping your lips, face flushed and wet with tears, body twitching under hers.

Sevika finally exhales shakily into your neck, body trembling. "Holy fuck..."

She pulls out slowly, and you gasp—your whole body shudders at the stretch and the heat that spills out of you, dripping messily down your thighs.

You blink blearily at the mirror, eyes wide as you glance down between your legs.

"Jesus….." you croak. "I didn't know it was that big."

Sevika lets out a breathless laugh against your back, still catching her breath. "Didn't feel that big when I was stuffing you full like a good girl?"

You shove her arm weakly with a whine, collapsing fully onto the mattress.

She sinks down beside you, both of you half-naked, sweaty, and shaking. Her hand finds your waist. She's quiet for a second, pressing gentle kisses into your shoulder.

You can feel her heartbeat pounding against your back.

"..you okay?" she mumbles, almost shyly.

You nod into the sheets. "Mhm. Just... full. Fucked out. Pretty sure my soul left my body."

She lets out a low chuckle, nose brushing your cheek. "Good."

You snort. "Good?"

"Yeah," she says quietly, possessively.

"I want you ruined. Want you walkin'around tomorrow knowing nobody's ever gonna touch you like this."

"Jesus," you whisper, laughing breathlessly. "You're crazy."

"For you?" she hums. "Every fucking time."

Your chest tightens at that. You roll slightly to face her, and she pulls you close without hesitation, burying her face in your neck.

"You're so pretty when you cry," she mumbles against your skin. "So fuckin' soft. My favorite girl."

You blush, heart melting. "You're gonna make me cry again..."

She just kisses your jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then suddenly, she sits up and scoops you into her arms like you weigh nothing.

"Sev!" you squeal, clinging to her neck.

"What?"

"Nothing.. you're just really strong..." you mumble against her collarbone.

She smirks, carrying you toward the bathroom. "Yeah? You like that?"

"Mhm..." you whimper. "My strong girl..."

"Damn right," she grunts, nudging the door open with her foot. "Strong enough to keep you like this forever."

You shiver. "Forever?"

She kisses your forehead. "‘M not going anywhere."

this is so lazy and i hate it but u guys asked for p2 so ofc i had to give it to you ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

criticism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

taglist: @twinklestarslight @thehoneybeestings @2sosa @nymanas @mewl3tte @dollyfawn22 @djstinkyfartz @lez-zuha @prettyyyy-girl @ayooooohush @strawberrylipglossx @jenosfairygirl @sadie6sinks6slut @coffee2972 @violetsforroses98 @kmhbygss @honeyylovee @sevikaswifeomm @bublunniii @werecorgi92 @harumanisstuff @lilredbird101 @lesbonym @ilovejasmine22 @crystaksack @anthorius ♡

[insomniadreamzz]

Hii can you do a jinx smut where the reader has a disability where she can’t walk properly and has to use a cane or wheelchair. Whatever one you want. Soft stuff 💚

True love

Jinx x Fem!Reader

Mentions of physical disability, smut (soft), fluff

(Little Flashback)

You can still remember the moment you first met Jinx. She saved you from some Enforcers who probably must have mistaken you for someone else. The way you layed helplessly on the floor in pain, already saying goodbye to your life and then suddenly she appeared, shooting them down in seconds you couldn’t even process how quick she was, the thing you couldn’t see clearly though were her pink eyes, the little light string they leave whenever she moved swiftly, she was beautiful and strong.

„Come on don’t lay there like an idiot and go away before more of them will come to get ya. I am not your personal bodyguard, I just had a good moment so…better run before my bullet reaches between your eyes.“ The blue haired girl said and you frowned as you leaned up on your hands. You couldn’t run. You couldn’t even walk properly without any helping gadgets. And even if you had a cane you were just ashamed about your own disability, you liked your wheelchair even though you could at least walk a little but besides the embarrassment of how it looked you were in pain when you tried to walk. But now when your eyes glanced over to the broken wheelchair, little tears formed into your eyes. „I can’t…“ You said with a soft voice, Jinx looking at you with a confused expression. „What? Do you want to get shot?“ She asked again and you shook your head with a frustrated groan. „Ugh no! I mean it. I can’t walk. They destroyed my-…my wheelchair.“ You pouted, trying to hold back your tears and somehow the blue haired girl felt sorry for you. She knew how it felt to be different even though her differences weren’t physically. „Oh damn…I didn’t know that.“ She mentioned before stepping closer to you, glancing to the broken wheelchair and then back to you again. „Well you are lucky I am in a good mood today.“ Jinx mentioned before scooping you up into her arms, the way she could lift you up so easily, her muscles flexing as she did so, it was kind of attractive to you, making you blush.

„Thank you…“ You mumbled. „It’s okay. Tell me where’s your home I will take you there.

(End of Flashback)

Since then you and Jinx became very close. She made a new wheelchair for you all by herself, of course having her signature drawings all over it with neon paint. Every now and then she helped you walk for at least a few steps to keep your muscles intact. She cared for you so sweetly sometimes it made your heart ache of how sweet it was.

Today was one of your bad days. You felt the pain again even though you took your medicine, just one of those days where you can’t do anything but lay down in bed. Jinx knew those days and she was never leaving your side on those days, staying with you all day until you feel better. „Her hand was gently caressing you as you both cuddled, her closeness always made you feel relaxed. You just loved her but you never told her.

„Thank you Jinx…I am happy I have you with me.“ You whispered softly, making her hand hold your gently. „I am happy too. I found someone who understands…how it feels being different.“ Jinx mentioned and you blushed a little bit, feeling the same. „Same here. You like me just the way I am and never treated me like I am a weirdo only because of my…disability…“ Your voice lowered, making Jinx shift a little bit before lifting your head up by your chin, making you look into her beautiful pink eyes, she looked so serious though.

„No I don’t like you. I love you. I love you just the way you are. You don’t have to be able to walk or even run with me. You do show understanding for my own differences from others, my own disabilities, my craziness. You accepted it all. This is so much more important.“ She said, veing serious and honest for once. You kept on staring at each other before you both followed your feelings, closing the gap between you and finally your lips touched, kissing each other deeply and lovingly, both of you feeling butterflies in your stomach.

The kiss deepened as soon as Jinx noticed you returned her feelings, hovering above you as she slipped her tongue inside your mouth, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress your body. You didn’t know how but you totally forgot the pain. You felt so light and save with Jinx, everyone would think you are crazy for that but Jinx gives you so much safety. All that time you knew each other you never felt not save around her. Maybe she was a little bit possessive around you but that was okay according to her past. You understood her and honestly you didn’t mind. You loved how she wanted to show people you are hers.

She slowly pulled back from the kiss to breathe, now her gaze being filled with lust and you felt the same. „I love you too Jinx. Please never leave me.“ You said and that made her reach for your cheek, gently caressing it with her thumb as she tried not to cry. „Oh toots…I would never leave you. I love you way too much. Besides I need you just like you need me.“ She said before crashing her lips against yours again, making both of you moan softly into the kiss, getting lost into a heated and passionate kiss.

After your make out session both you you wanted more. She traveled down your body, leaving wet kisses on your bare skin until she reached between your legs, helping you to adjust your legs a little more comfortably as she spread them so she had a better view at your dripping heat. Before anything she looked at you, her gaze already driving you to the edge. „Are you sure you want me to…“ She started and you blushed, nodding eagerly. „Yes. Yes please Jinx I want it.“ You hummed, biting your lip as soon as you felt her tongue moving, licking along your wetness and playfully flicking it over your clit. She kept on kissing and licking you hungrily, gaining soft moans from you as you felt shivers go down your spine, the good feeling only getting more intense as she started to suck your clit, sending more shivers of pleasure through your body. You never thought you would experience something like this, the way her hands gently caressed your thighs while she was eating you out so good, it felt amazing.

„Mhh…does my girl want more huh?“ She mumbled softly, as she looked at you with a lustful gaze, you having a hard time to look back at her, your cheeks flushed red. „Y-Yes please.“ You really wanted more and Jinx will give you more as she used her finger, easily slipping it inside since you were so wet, gaining another moan from you as she slowly pumped it inside of you, you throwing your head back into the pillow when she added another one, fucking you with her fingers meanwhile her mouth was busy taking care of your clit. The sensation driving you over the edge once she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot.

„Oh…god-…I am so close…please…“ You whimper softly, encouraging her to ho faster and she did, groaning softly when she felt you clenching around her fingers and cumming hard as you arched your back, moaning loudly.

Jinx removed her fingers, wanting a taste of your cum as she used her tongue on you, making you whimper, feeling so sensitive at this point. When she was done licking you clean, she sat up, smiling at you before crawling up to you, placing a soft gentle kiss on your lips. „I love you so much…“ She whispered and you couldn’t feel happier at this point, hugging her tightly against you. „I love you too…thank you. Thank you so much for being with me.“

[allthingsfangirl101]

Thanksgiving Dinner Buffer – Timothy McGee

"I can't believe we actually have a holiday off," I laughed after Gibbs told us the news.

"Don't jinx it!"

I gasped when DiNozzo threw a pen at me.

"Don't throw things at her, Tony," McGee sighed.

"Hey!" DiNozzo yelled when I threw the pen back at him. I laughed when McGee moved between mine and DiNozzo's desk, blocking me from his aim. "Move, McGuard Dog!"

"Not doing that."

"But she threw it!"

"Back," McGee added. "You threw it first, giving her the ammo. It's only fair." McGee laughed as he turned toward me. "What are you doing this weekend, Y/L/N?"

I was about to answer his question when DiNozzo started telling us, in explicit detail, what he plans on doing this weekend.

"Please stop telling us your plans," I begged, cutting off his crazy description of the ladies he finds at the strip club that serves "an amazing Thanksgiving dinner".

"So, Y/L/N, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?" McGee asked, trying to change the subject and turn the conversation away from DiNozzo.

"Nothing," I shrugged, trying to end this discussion.

"Nothing?" McGee asked sweetly. "You're not doing anything fun?"

"Not really," I said, hoping he couldn't see through me. I stood up, wanting to escape this conversation as I added, "Just family dinner."

"That sounds like fun," McGee said.

"For most people," I mumbled as I left the squad room.

A little while later, everyone else was holding their breaths as our shift came to an end.

"And that is it!" DiNozzo cheered. "I am out of here before we get called back in."

"Have fun," I laughed.

As DiNozzo grabbed his stuff and bolted out of here, I could see McGee over my computer slowly starting to pack up. I ignored him when he stood up and grabbed his bag, but froze when he saw me still working. I resisted the urge to look up at him as he walked over to me.

"You heading out soon?" He asked.

"I'm just finishing up a few things," I lied. I glanced up at him when he didn't move. "Something on your mind, McGee?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I asked instead of answering.

"You tell me," he shrugged. "You've just seemed a little. . . on edge today."

"I'm fine," I shrugged.

McGee started to nod but said, "You're lying."

"I am not," I stuttered. He sent me a look before sitting on the edge of my desk.

"Why don't you want to go to dinner?"

My heart dropped at his question. "What are you. . . I never said. . . How'd you know?" I finally got out.

"I know someone trying to stall going to a family event," he smiled knowingly at me.

I looked down and instantly started to play with my hands. Suddenly, McGee reached over and gently put his hand on top of mine.

"Y/N," he whispered, "why are you avoiding going to family dinner?"

I looked up and saw nothing but understanding in his eyes. For some reason, I gave in and told him more than I had told anyone.

"Family dinners are never easy," I said, my voice soft as it broke. "Whenever I go home, I instantly get interrogated. I'm serious. My family could get Gibbs to confess things."

The mood lightened a little as McGee joked. "You sure?" He teased.

"Oh yeah," I laughed. "I can tell you exactly what each family member is going to do the second I walk in the door."

"Let's hear it," McGee challenged, trying to cheer me up.

"Take notes," I teased. "My dad spends the entire night constantly reminding me how to protect myself. My mother asks me questions about my dating life and then judges me when I tell her I have none. My brothers ask me about criminals, if I've killed any of them, and how we did it. My sister will ignore me until she can find little ways to sneak in some hurtful comment about how I look, how I act, how I behave, or any other insecurity she can exploit."

"Wow," McGee said slowly. "That's. . . A lot. I see why you're hesitating."

"I love my family," I sighed, "but they can be a lot. It's overwhelming and, to be honest, takes a lot out of me."

The look in McGee's eyes softened. He lowered his voice as he asked, "Would it help to have company?"

"Company?" I repeated. "What do you mean?"

"Someone in your corner," he said like it should've been obvious. "Someone to put a little buffer between you and your family."

"Who?" I scoffed. Things seemed to slow down as I realized who McGee was talking about. "Wait. . . McGee. . . Are you. . . Don't you have your own family dinner to get to?"

"No," he admitted. "My mom is out of town and Sarah is stuck on campus working on some research paper."

"I thought you said you had plans."

"Well," he chuckled awkwardly, "to be honest, I only said that so Tony wouldn't make fun of me. In reality, I was going to spend the night writing. So, if you'd like some backup tonight, I got your back."

* * * * *

"I'm sure whatever you choose to wear will be fine," McGee called from the other room.

"You don't understand," I called back. "My mother wants me in something flattering. My sister says I look fat in everything. My brother doesn't care. And my father doesn't want me in anything that makes him realize I'm an adult."

"What about wearing something you want to wear?" He asked hesitantly.

"This is a time to be serious, McGee," I said as I walked out of my room and back into the kitchen where he was waiting. He turned around and froze. The look on his face made me a little nervous. "What?"

"Nothing," he stuttered. He cleared his throat before adding, "You look beautiful."

"You sure?" I asked as I smoothed out my dress. I was wearing a dark maroon dress with a pair of black wedges.

McGee reached over and grabbed my hand, making me stop repeatedly smoothing out my skirt.

"You look great, Y/L/N," he said gently. "Now, let's go."

"Okay," I sighed but didn't move. McGee laughed as he pulled on my hand and led me out of my apartment.

The entire way to my parent's house, I couldn't settle my nerves. The closer we got, the more on edge I became.

"You're really nervous about this dinner," McGee said gently.

"Family dinners have never been easy," I softly admitted. "I usually spend the whole night suffering in silence as my family argues and ridicules each other. The night always ends in yelling and then silence."

McGee looked over as he pulled up to a red light. "Hey," he said to make me look at him. "How about this? We will have a codeword."

"A codeword?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "A word that you say or whisper or text me that lets me know I need to come up with an excuse to leave. A word that tells me to throw you over my shoulder and get you out of there."

Before I could respond, someone behind us honked their horn. McGee cleared his throat and turned back to the road. The rest of the way to my parent's house, I kept thinking about what he said. He was willing to come and endure dinner with my family. I tried to figure out why he'd be so willing to do this, but before I could overanalyze it, we pulled up to my parent's house.

"You ready?" He asked as he parked the car and turned toward me.

"No," I sighed. He laughed as he got out. I sat frozen as he walked around to my side and opened my door. I let out a small, weak chuckle as he grabbed my hand and helped me out of the car. My heart dove into my stomach when I looked over his shoulder to see my mom watching from the window.

"This is a horrible idea," I mumbled. McGee looked over his shoulder and smiled before turning back to me.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered. I sucked in a breath when McGee grabbed my other hand and pulled me closer. "I will do everything I can to make you look amazing in front of your family."

"By playing the part of coworker or boyfriend?"

A sudden tension fell between the two of us. "Which would you want me to do?" He asked, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I don't know," I whispered.

"How about," he said, clearing his throat, "we wait and see. Depending on what your family does and says, I can be either."

"I guess that works," I said, still slightly under my breath. He let go of one of my hands but kept the other as he turned and led me up the walkway. The second we were on the porch, the front door swung open.

"There you are," Mom giggled.

"Hi, Mom," I said, feeling like an insecure 15-year-old girl. My heart jumped into my throat when my mom looked over at McGee. I tried to say something but the words got stuck.

"Agent McGee," my mom stuttered as she looked between the two of us. "What a nice surprise."

"Sorry, Mom," I said, my nerves jumping all over the place. "I found out that Tim didn't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving dinner and I invited him over. His mom's out of town and his sister is working on an essay on campus. But I figured, since we always have so much food, I didn't think you'd mind."

Mom glanced down at McGee holding my hand and her smile widened. "Of course, I don't mind!"

I gasped when she grabbed McGee's free hand and practically dragged him inside. He sent me a playful look over his shoulder. I chuckled as I walked in and closed the front door behind me.

The second I walked into the kitchen, McGee instantly came to my side. I felt my face burning as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

"I didn't know you two were dating," Y/S/N scoffed.

"Aren't you guys coworkers?" Y/B/N asked, glancing up from his game.

"We are," I stuttered as I looked up at McGee. He simply responded with a smile.

"Doesn't your boss have rules about this kind of thing?" Dad said as he walked into the room, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked McGee up and down.

"Dad," I sighed.

"Gibbs does have a rule," McGee jumped in. "We talked to him about it and have set clear rules about being together at work."

"So no sneaking off to the interrogation room to fu. . ."

"Y/B/N!" I yelled to cut him off.

"We haven't done anything in one of the interrogation rooms yet," McGee smirked. "We have made out in the supply closet."

I leaned my face into his shoulder to hide my blush as my mother giggled, my father scowled, and my siblings gagged.

"Is dinner ready yet?" Y/B/N yelled. "Or are we gonna keep talking about Y/N's disgusting sex life?"

"We are not talking about my. . . Please tell me dinner is ready," I stuttered.

"Almost," my mom giggled. My mom grabbed my sister's hand and pulled her into the kitchen. McGee looked at me and I could tell he had an idea I wasn't going to like.

He sent me a wink before heading into the kitchen. I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to see my dad smirking at me.

"What?" I asked him.

"Nothing," he chuckled. "It's just nice to see you so happy."

"I'm not. . . I guess. . ."

"McGee seems great," Dad cut off my stuttering. "As long as he treats you right."

He patted me on the shoulder before going back to the football game. I looked over to see my brother watching me. "Are you gonna say anything?"

"He's too good for you," he scoffed as he joined Dad.

"I know," I sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair and took a shaky breath. "This was a horrible idea."

I gasped when McGee walked back into the room. "Hey, where did your dad and brother go?" He asked as he walked over to me. 

I grabbed McGee's hand and pulled him outside.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What?" He chuckled. "Thought I was helping."

"Helping? Seriously, McGee? Helping would not be giving my entire family the idea that you and I are hooking up at work."

"It worked though," he shrugged.

"How so?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I may or may not have overheard your mother and sister talking in the kitchen before dinner," he confessed.

"And what did they say?" I asked, acting like I didn't care.

"Your sister mentioned that you've never had a boyfriend before," he explained, "and she was impressed that you actually got someone to go out with you."

"Wow," I scoffed as I turned to walk away. "I'm flattered."

"Wait," McGee said quickly as he grabbed my wrist and spun me back into his chest. Something over my shoulder caught his attention. What he did next, neither one of us expected.

McGee leaned down and crashed his lips onto mine. I was about to pull away but something kept me there. My eyes fluttered close as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. We broke apart slowly, the surprise on both of our faces.

"What was that?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Your mom and sister were watching us. I didn't want them to think we were fighting."

"Oh," I whispered. "That was. . .smart. Thanks."

"No problem," he said with a slight shrug.

I cleared my throat as I finally stepped out of our embrace. "Next time, give a girl some warning."

"I will," he chuckled as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "And sorry I made our relationship seem a lot more. . . sexual than it actually is." He made a face as he cleared his throat. "Again, I'm sorry. That was. . . A bit far."

I grabbed his hand before he could walk away. "Promise me, no more 'sneaking around' stories with my family, okay? As far as they know, we keep it professional at work."

"Of course," he nodded. "And we save the personal stuff for the bedroom."

I held back my laugh as I pushed him away from me. I walked by him as I heard him clear his throat.

"Sorry," he called out.

"Just so you know," I sighed as I started to walk back inside, "you're acting a little too much like DiNozzo right now."

"Noted."

* * * * *

Dinner was excruciatingly long. It was full of way too personal questions, long and awkward antidotes, and way too much attention on McGee and me. After dinner, my mom and brother were doing the dishes (after she forced him), and my dad was talking with McGee while Y/S/N interrupted him by asking McGee if he was sure he couldn't do better than me.

While everyone was distracted, I snuck outside. I let out a shaky breath as I sat on one of the deck chairs. I pulled my knees into my chest and closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them, I would be at home and not surrounded by family.

I jumped when someone walked up behind me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.

"Sorry," McGee chuckled. He walked over to the chair next to me and sat down. "I saw you out here and figured you'd be cold."

"I was," I whispered as I turned my attention back to the pool. I rewrapped my arm around my legs, tightening the blanket around myself.

"You doing okay?"

"No," I sighed as I turned my head toward McGee but leaned my cheek on my knee.

"I'm sorry," McGee said gently. "Anything I can do?"

"Seriously?" I laughed. "McGee, you are voluntarily spending your Thanksgiving dinner with me and my overly judgmental family. We've been here all of three hours and you've spent the entire time taking shots from my brother and dad while being hit on by my sister and interrogated by my mother. There is literally nothing else you could do to make this any better. Thank you."

"No problem," McGee smiled as he relaxed into the chair. We looked at the pool, watching the small waterfall from the jacuzzi spill into the pool. Suddenly, I felt McGee's eyes on me. I looked towards him and instantly noticed his face reddened when I caught him.

"Why don't I get us something to drink?"

"I don't know," I smirked. "We can't drive the getaway car if we're drunk."

"How about your Grandma's Cranberry Eggnog?" He tilted his head in confusion when I laughed. "What?"

"My grandma was a raging alcoholic," I explained. "Her cranberry eggnog is 4% eggnog, 6% cranberry, and 90% vodka."

"Sounds like the perfect recipe," he laughed. "I can get us some sodas or something that we can still run away if we need to."

He sent me a smile before standing up. He was almost at the back door when his phone started to ring.

"Hold up, McGee," I said as I grabbed it off his chair. "Looks like your sister texted you. . ." I stopped talking when I read the message.

Sarah Sorry you got a case right before Thanksgiving. Mom and I miss you!

"What is this?" I asked as I slowly looked up at him. He was frozen in front of the sliding glass door. "Tim, I thought you said your sister was stuck at school and couldn't make it home."

"I can explain," he stuttered.

"Why does she think you're working a case right now?"

"Because I told her?"

"Why'd you lie?" I asked, my voice dropping.

McGee sighed as he walked over and sat back down in the chair next to me.

"You looked so nervous after you hung up with your mom the other day," he confessed. "I hated seeing you like that so. . ."

"So you decided to swoop in and save the day?" I teased him.

"It's the job," he shrugged. His eyes softened as he reached over, grabbed his phone from my hand, tossed it behind him on the chair, and grabbed my hands. "I'm sorry this holiday has been so hard for you. Imyme being here helpful?"

"Yes," I said a little too quickly.

"Are you sure?" He double-checked. "I'd hate to be here with the intention of helping you and instead, making things worse."

"You're not," I said, subconsciously scooting closer to him. There was a small silence between the two as they continued their staring contest.

"You know," he whispered, "we don't have to stay. We could leave."

"Leave?"

"Yeah," McGee shrugged. "I can take you home or. . ."

"Or?"

"Or we could go back to my place and watch a movie?"

I watched as he held his breath, waiting for my answer. "Grab your gear," I said, making him laugh. "I'll meet you at the car."

I laughed as he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. Without letting go of me, he led me back inside.

"Where are you two off to?" My mom asked in her mother-knows-best voice.

"We got called in," McGee thought up a little too easily. "There's a dead petty officer downtown."

"Oh no," Mom pouted. "On Thanksgiving?"

"Criminals don't take a holiday off," I shrugged. It was then that I realized McGee and I were still holding hands. I gently pulled my hand out of his and hugged my mom. "Sorry," I whispered.

"It's okay," she sighed as she broke the hug. "Promise you'll be safe."

"We will," I chuckled.

"I've got her back, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"I trust that you do, Timothy."

As we left, I didn't hear my mom's and sister's conversation.

"Oh please. You know they're not actually dating, right?" My sister scoffed. "This isn't a date. He's not here to meet her family. He's here to get a free dinner. He's just her coworker."

"They may think that," my mom giggled. "But what Y/N doesn't know is that Timothy is more than just a coworker."

[independentzaun]

A love, painful.

Continued from here with @misfits-of-zaun

The truth was Jinx hadn’t expected him to truly listen much less really care about what she said. Silco had cared when she’d spoken up of course, but for years he’d been her father figure and with that came him teaching her and instructing her and an assumption he was by and large correct. So although there had been quite a few questions as she’d always been a curious thing there hadn’t been quite as many full discussions with her opening up, and offering her thoughts. Although by the fifth time he’d brought up Vander she’d started getting impatient.

Vander, like a brother, river, blah blah blah.

She also hadn’t really spoken much to many others, and at some point her and Sevika had started butting heads while in the past Mylo had always been kind of a bully. Even Vander had been so busy working that he hadn’t had much time to really discuss things, and Vi had left had done her best but powder Jinx had been too young to really consider discussing things with her idolized big sister so Jinx had largely stopped trying eventually. Hearing him her shoulders tensed up for a second half expecting him to mock her as her eyes flickered towards him before she relaxed despite a look coming to her half way between puzzled, and surprised. “Ekko?” Be it his reaction, or what emotions she could catch the edges of through their odd bond, or even just a faint shift in his scent Jinx found herself believing that he actually had listened… and did care.

It was that belief that made her turn just a touch to better offer him attention, and hearing his quiet voice she swallowed shaking her head. Lips parting for a second they closed before she hesitantly reached out ever so slowly to try to touch his wrist with her finger tips as she leaned a bit to try to see his face.

“I don’t want to either Ekko. I… I get I’m different, and that we’re different and… I get that. Even if sometimes it seems like I don’t, or I get frustrated because of it or whatever I do get that. Heh, I’m not that crazy.” There was a soft shaky breath from her, and a nervous little laugh as she shifted on her feet. Jinx was in no way shape or form used to conversations like this, and she could almost feel the static in her mind trying to swell and taunt her. Lips tightened she muttered to herself.

“Not. Now.”

Of course her stupid mind, and the shades in it would want to mess with her. Of course they’d want to ruin what seemed like the first, and maybe only chance to truly talk to Ekko about this. Of course… of course she’d try to jinx even herself again. Without thinking her hand closed around his wrist almost instinctual seeking comfort from her soulmate, and she spoke once more.

“Listen to me, Ekko, please. I’m not good at stuff like this, but I’m being honest at least. I do not want this to stay painful. For you, or for me. I don’t know how to fix it, or help it, or make it better. I don’t have anyone to ask, and I don’t know what books to read, and I don’t know how this is supposed to work.” For a moment there was a slither of fear going through her, and biting at her bottom lip she forced herself to admit the truth.

“But you’re my soulmate, and never getting to see you again would hurt more than anything else we could ever do to each other.”

.She couldn't handle being left all alone. Not again. @misfits-of-zaun

[slyttherins]

Supernova | Bill Weasley x Nova Lestrange

Summary: Bill Weasley gets his first kiss

Pairing: Bill Weasley x OC Nova Lestrange (Bellatrix's daughter)

Word count: 1250

Square filled: First kiss

-

When Bill was starting his second year at Hogwarts, his eyes fell on a girl with dark, curly hair. She must've been a First Year since her robes had no house logo on them.

Nova Lestrange, McGonagall had called her. Bill had heard that name before - Lestrange. It had been in the newspaper a year ago.

During the sorting ceremony, the redhead watched her go and sit under the sorting hat, secretly praying she'd be in Gryffindor.

She got Slytherin.

Three years passed and, despite Nova's reputation, Bill couldn't tear his eyes from her. She fascinated him. She was strong headed and confident, didn't take shit from anyone and never hesitated to hex someone who spoke wrong about her or her family. Maybe it was why people were intimidated by her?

She definitely wasn't the type of girl his mother would want him to bring home for the holidays, but that didn't stop the Weasley boy from longing after her.

Nova's mad laugh echoed in the hallway as Bill and her ran away, escaping from Filch.

The two had set an alarm and emerged from their respective common rooms well after curfew to meet in a hallway, planning to sneak out to the astronomy tower to watch the meteor shower. Professor Sinistra had mentioned it in class earlier this week and Nova really wanted to see it. According to the professor, the best time to see it was between moonset and dawn, which was why they were up at this hour.

''I can't believe you jinxed Filch with a jelly-legs curse,'' Bill laughed, the image of the caretaker stumbling because of the curse forever engraved in his mind.

Nova would undoubtedly get in trouble for jinxing a staff member, but she couldn't care less.

''Get used to it, Weasley. Crazy runs in my blood.''

Once they made it to the top of the astronomy tower, Bill pushed open the squeaky door. A few blankets and cushions were set up on the ground, neatly and previously placed by Nova, to keep them warm and comfortable for the spectacle.

''Do you think it has started already?'' she asked, sitting down on the blanket. It was spring, but the nights were still cold.

They were both still in their pajamas, looking like polar opposites next to each other; Nova in a Slytherin night-robe over a silk two piece and Bill in striped bottoms and a Molly-made sweater.

Bill shook his head and joined her, grabbing another blanket to cover their legs. ''It shouldn't have. According to Professor Sinistra, we should see the first shooting star around two-thirty.''

A brisk of wind blew through the astronomy tower and, without thinking, Bill reached out to tuck a piece of hair away from Nova's face.

She turned her attention to him, frowning. ''What is it? Is there something in my hair?'' She ran a hand through her dark curls, attempting to get whatever was on it out.

Bill shook his head. ''No.''

He looked down at his hands quickly and then back to her. A full head of dark messy curls framed her face, a stark contrast with her milky skin. Her dark eyes were surrounded by long lashes. She was the painted picture of her mother - only, her features were softer. Her nose was different too, more upturned.

A fragment of meteor came through the starry sky at lightning speed and Nova's eyes brightened in amazement. ''Did you catch that?''

Nova's voice broke him out of his staring.

''Eh, no...'' Bill replied sheepishly.

Nova pulled her eyebrows. ''It flew right before us. How can you have missed it?'' she asked. ''Need glasses, Weasley?'' Before Bill could say anything, she tapped his leg to get his attention. ''There's another one coming. Look!''

This time, he did catch it. A small ball of bright, white light flew across the sky, so fast it trailed light behind it. A smile broke across the redhead's lips.

''Wow. This is so much better that during Astronomy lessons.'' Bill wasn't an astronomy nerd, but he couldn't deny how cool shooting stars were despite being a small fragment of a big rock.

''That's because they are simulations,'' Nova explained. ''I don't think Professor Sinistra has the patience to spend a night with a whole class to teach astronomy. Can you imagine?''

''Next time, we should watch it by the Black Lake.''

''Ohh, good idea!''

''How will we sneak out of the castle though? The doors are locked at night.''

''I guess we'll have to stay out all night.''

''We could hide in the forbidden forest? It isn't as scary as people make it. I've been a thousand times with my brother Charlie. There centaurs and acromantulas and trolls, but they won't bother you if you don't cause trouble.''

The forest was strictly off limits to students - except for detentions or Care of Magical Creatures lessons -, but that didn't stop the Weasley boys to venture in. In third year, Charlie tried to sneak in a bowtruckle in his dorm, but McGonagall caught the green creature peeking from his robe's pocket and gave him detention.

''I'll hold your hand if you're scared,'' Bill teased and Nova shoved him.

Like most, Nova had first struck him as the good kid with good grades, the type who never disobeyed or broke rules. After all, he was top mark in a lot of classes. Turned out Bill was not the person she had taken him to be. The elder of the Weasley clan loved adventures, danger and...mischief.

Time flew by as more shooting stars crossed the sky. It was now almost time to part ways and go back to their dorm, but Bill didn't want this moment to end. He had plans for tonight, other than watching the meteor shower. One plan.

Kissing Nova.

He had tried to kiss her on many occasions before, but always got cold feet - for a Gryffindor, he wasn’t courageous in the girl department. Or, something would come up and interrupt.

The last time, they had been in the courtyard when a bludger went over their head at full speed, coming from the quidditch pitch where Gryffindor were having a practice. After practice, Charlie had apologized on their team's behalf for ruining the moment, but Bill was still mad at his brother for that - even though he wasn't the one who swung the bludger.

Bill's eyes shifted from Nova to the sky, telling himself that he'll take his chance and make a move when the next shooting star would pass, but he realized that the setting was a bit too romantic for his liking. Having his first kiss under the stars, who was he? The main character from those muggle movies?

But, again, Nova had been the one to come up with the idea of watching the meteor shower, not him.

''Nova?'' His voice was soft, but still echoed through the astronomy tower.

The raven haired girl turned in Bill’s direction. Her cheeks were rosey from the night air and Bill could feel his heart beat fast in his chest. She was so close, yet too far.

Using all the courage he had, Bill cupped her face with one of his hands and leaned in, his lips hovering over Nova's, but stopped before they could kiss, getting cold feet.

''Are you gonna kiss me, Weasley, or do I have to do it myself?'' Nova spoke between them.

Bill laughed softly, embarrassed, and did as told.

[mysterystarz]

the reception:

brides note: welcome to the reception, where you’ll catch a mini glimpse of keiji and i’s first dance as well as a few cute moments from the party (which also translates to minor chaos!) feel free to let loose, and perhaps grab a glass of juice before the speeches!

an extra note: my writing in this sucks so my apologies in advance ;)

warnings: just minor chaos + one mention of implied alcoholic consumption (mai i’m looking at you)

word count: 0.8k

check out the playlist curated by my bridesmaids and i! (and add your own wedding appropriate songs too!)

The reception hall was filled with the delicately string fairy lights above the chairs and statues of the estate. The breeze was more prominent now, but it was far more refreshing as everyone made their way to their seats, as well as the dance floor.

As the soft music of Thinking Out Loud played through the speakers, Nova and Keiji made their way towards each other, linking their hands as they started off with a slow waltz to the music.

That was not, however, the type of first dance they had planned.

As the song continued on, every lyric a silent promise between the two of them, Keiji twirled Nova around, waltzing around the room as the song continued, opting to dip her to the sweet melody.

As the final notes sounded out into the venue, Keiji lifted Nova into the air, twirling her around gracefully before setting her down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips once the song had finally reached its close.

They were met with applause and whistles as they grinned widely at everyone who surrounded them, heading to go and mingle with guests as new music began to float through the air.

“Nova, where did you guys even come up with that?” Natalia asked, a glass of juice in hand. “That was…amazing.”

“All those late night waltzes paid off,” Nova smiled, patting Natalia’s shoulder. “Don’t drink too much, or you won’t have any room for cake.”

“That was one hell of a dance,” Kuroo chimed in, strolling towards her. “How long did that take you guys to learn?”

“Not that long,” Keiji replied, intertwining his fingers with his wife’s. “Some of that was natural too.”

“You two really are something.” Kuroo grinned. “If you’re cutting the cake, how much faith do you have in Bokuto?”

“What type of a ques–“

Just then, upbeat and loud music replaced the subtle ambient song that was playing beforehand, with Bokuto shouting his signature catchphrase before randomly dragging a guest to the dance floor, energy in every step.

“No faith,” Nova chuckled. “We all love Bo though, so I’m sure that we’ll be okay.”

Much to everyone’s relief, the cake cutting went smoothly as it could and everyone managed to mingle, slices in hand as the music theme continued to shift due to the continuous changes in the DJ.

In the end, none of it seemed to matter as much because they were all there together, and that was enough.

Turning around, Nova was just about to try and find Iwaizumi when she was met with the sight of Mai drunk dancing on one of the tables, empty wine bottle in hand while Iwaizumi lifted her down and left to go help her maintain consciousness.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the scenario, as the night continued on, as crazy as it could be expected to be.

“Angie?” She called out, looking for her bridesmaid when she was met with the sight of Bokuto running around the estate with Angie on his back, yelling all the way.

“Later Nova!” Angie hollered, letting out a squeal as Bokuto set her down.

Further out on the dance floor, Inez brandished the pistol she had used to steal the shoes earlier, proving to Atsumu that she did indeed have a pistol on her. His shocked expression seemed to fuel her even further as she discussed her tactics.

Nova stood at the center of the floor, talking in the music and lights before Keiji wrapped an arm around her waist.

“It’s a bit hard to believe, right?” He laughed, chiming and light as it always was. “I’m surprised that the reception wasn’t more chaotic.”

“Well technically it’s not done yet Mr. Akaashi,” Nova replied, booping his nose. “We still haven’t gotten to the speeches. Who knows how chaotic that’s going to be?”

Keiji led them both to a table momentarily. “Well Mrs. Akaashi, I think that it’ll all be part of the experience.”

“Hey hey hey! I’ve got a speech to give as the best man since I heard we could give speeches!” Bokuto shouted into the mic. “Akaashi is the best setter ever, and Nova is just the nicest! They’re perfect together and make each other happy! They’re also super forgiving since I knocked over a bottle of juice and they didn’t even make a fuss about it!”

“You did what?” Nova asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I didn’t know about this.” She giggled afterwards, realizing that even if it wasn’t a huge deal, she had jinxed it.

Everyone applauded and laughed as Bokuto proudly left the mic, beaming as he took a seat.

The music continued on into the space, as guests talked and mingled, but in the end, the chaos was all worth it.

The chaos was what made the night so memorable.

©keinova wedding <3

feel free to interact with this post!

[adiwriting]

Sunday Mornings 12/?

So this started out as a cute little fic of the boys being doggy daddies... and quickly it turned into phone sex. So... heed that warning. 

If anyone has any prompt fills for this, let me know. I’m slowly running low on my own ideas for domestic bliss fic! 

Gif by the lovely @manesalex​

Week 12

The phone rings so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside. Of course the sound causes the three littlest ones on the bed to jolt awake and start barking. Michael groans, reaching out to grab his cell phone off of the nightstand without moving too much. He’s worried if he sits up that John will go tumbling off of his chest and to the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time. His smallest child really is an uncoordinated mess. 

When Michael is able to pull his phone to his face, he smiles when he sees an incoming FaceTime call from Alex. 

“You woke up the children,” he playfully admonishes Alex in lieu of a formal greeting. Alex has been away on a training for the last several days and isn’t due back home until Tuesday. 

“Sorry,” Alex says, not looking sorry in the least. “I have to report in thirty minutes and I didn’t want to leave for work without seeing you guys.” 

Michael smiles at that. Or, he would, but Peter, little shit that he is, climbs over his face in order to see his daddy properly. 

“Hey baby!” Alex says, his entire face lighting up. “Are you being a good boy for your old man?” 

Michael rolls his eyes and Peter literally sits on his face. He most certainly did not agree to being called ‘old man’ and every time he says as much to Alex, Alex makes sure to use it that much more. The fact that Peter is also a little shit is one hundred percent Alex’s influence. 

Michael lets Peter say hi for a minute before he reaches up and grabs him, moving him to his chest so that Michael can breathe properly and Alex can see more than just Peter’s nose. Wendy and John squeeze themselves into the frame as well to say hello. 

Alex spends a solid minute greeting each of them personally and Michael has to bite back a goofy smile at the way they all get excited to hear their name and attempt to reach Alex through the phone. 

“So we’re letting the puppies sleep in our bed now?” Alex asks, amused once he’s done saying good morning to the littles. 

“They missed you,” Michael says defensively, not bothering to mention that it is indeed Michael who misses Alex and he’s been letting the puppies sleep in the bed so it won’t feel so big and empty. 

“That’s very sweet,” he says. “If they pee on the comforter I’m gonna be mad.” 

He has a fair point. Which is why Michael had thought ahead and stripped the bed and replaced the linens with the cheap sheets they only ever use on laundry day.

“Aww, come on babe, you can’t be mad the dogs are in the bed. Look at our girl,” he says, flipping the camera around and pointing it at Bell, who is currently under the covers next to Michael with her head on Michael’s pillow, eyeing the entire thing skeptically, but not running away, which is progress. 

“Oh my god, when did this happen?” Alex asks, his hands coming up to his mouth as his eyes water. 

Bell has been home with them for three whole weeks and has spent most of her time under their bed. So much time, in fact, that Alex and Michael have taken turns hanging out under the bed with her so she wouldn’t be alone. She would only ever leave to go outside during the day. They’ve had to keep their master bedroom door open at night because the only time she’d venture into the kitchen to eat is during the middle of the night when the entire house is asleep. 

“Two nights ago, I woke up to her crawling under the blanket from the foot of the bed. I was gonna text you, but I didn’t wanna jinx it,” he says. “She still goes under the bed when anyone knocks on the door, but otherwise this is her new spot.” 

Michael flips the camera back around as Peter tries to lick the phone and Michael has to hold it above his head and out of reach. 

“Well that’s certainly progress,” Alex says with a smile and Michael agrees. 

Wendy barks at the blanket when Michael moves his foot and pounces at it and John stands up to egg her on. 

“Jesus, it’s too early for this shit,” Michael says with a laugh even as he moves his foot around and watches Wendy jump around at the foot of the bed trying to attack whatever beast she assumes is under the sheet. 

“I feel bad leaving you with all four of them yourself,” he says. “I know they’re a handful.”

A handful, they certainly are. But that’s not the reason that Michael is annoyed that Alex had to go away this week. Despite his loud protest for weeks about getting a dog, Michael is completely satisfied with their crazy brood. 

“I feel worse about you being gone on a Sunday.” Michael pouts at the camera and Alex lets out a groan. 

“I know, why do you think I called you so early?” he says. “I wanted to at least pretend that we woke up in bed together before I had to go through another one of these long ass days.” 

Michael wants that too. It’s crazy, in a matter of weeks, Michael has completely forgotten how to sleep alone. 

“Next time the stupid military decides to send you somewhere, I’m throwing the kids in the airstream and we are coming with you,” he says. 

Alex’s soft smile tells him that he wants that too, even as he questions, “And give Bell a nervous breakdown? Wouldn’t that make us bad parents?” 

“We’ll train her up,” Michael says, he’s about to say more, when John starts circling around, doing his potty dance. 

“Nope!” Michael yells, grabbing John and shooting out of bed. He rushes to the back door, letting him out, before he can poop in the house. Unsurprisingly, his siblings run after him and head outside as well. Perfect. The kids are officially up, everyone’s out of bed except for Bell, and there’s no way Michael is getting back to sleep. It’s not even six in the morning. 

He sighs, pulling the phone back up. 

“Sorry,” Michael apologizes. “I should probably let you go or something.” 

“Wait,” Alex calls out before he can hang up. Michael gives him a questioning look. “I just want to look at you for another minute.” 

Michael blushes at that, stepping out onto the patio to take a seat at one of the chairs, watching the kids run around the yard, distracted for a few minutes. 

“Is that all I am to you? A pretty face?” he asks in mock outrage. 

“Basically.” 

“I want to be loved for more than just my beauty you know,” he teases him. 

“Oh, I appreciate your mind as well.” Alex’s eyes darken and he licks at his lower lip in the way that always turns Michael on. He reaches down to rub at himself through his sweatpants, and he doesn’t have to be able to see all of Alex… The look on his face tells him that he’s doing the same thing. 

“My mind was it?” Michael asks, as he starts to get hard. He flips the camera so that Alex can see the tent in his pants. 

“I hate you,” Alex groans and shifts around on the bed until he’s resting back against the pillows. 

Michael can just picture him, laying out, feet on the mattress, knees spread, and touching himself. He glances around to make sure the puppies are still distracted before he slips his hand under the waistband to touch himself properly, letting out a moan as he does. 

“Fuck, Michael.” Alex bites his lip and it does things to Michael. 

“Yes please,” he says, not even embarrassed by how breathy it comes out. “Hurry before the kids want my attention again.” 

Alex laughs, but angles his camera down so that Michael can see his hand pumping himself slowly under the thin sheet. Michael slows down his own pumping to match Alex’s pace, trying to picture it’s Alex beside him, touching him. 

“You say the sexiest things,” Alex says. 

“You love it.” 

His breath catches as the sheet covering Alex drops and he can see him in all of his glory. Alex lets go of his dick to lick at his palm before returning back to touching himself. Michael practically whines. Alex paints a positively filthy picture and if he hadn’t upgraded both of their phones with some military grade encryption software he’d be worried… But they are safe and Michael can enjoy this moment with zero guilt.

“I love you,” Alex says. 

Despite the fact that both of them are touching themselves, breathing heavily, and moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear if they were awake, Michael positively melts at Alex’s words. Alex always makes sure that Michael never feels like they are just having sex. They make love every single time. 

“I love you, too,” Michael whispers, slowing his pace so that he is able to get the words out without sounding like a damn porn star. 

Alex changes the camera angle so that his entire face comes back into view and while Michael was enjoying watching Alex touch himself, he has to admit, he’d rather get off to this view instead. Alex is so fucking beautiful. 

“I should be the one touching you right now,” he says, and it sounds sad. 

Michael drops his grip on himself and sits up, watching Alex’s face carefully. Somehow, his tired eyes had missed it before, but he can see it now. The weight Alex is carrying in his shoulders. The stress around his eyes. Michael isn’t the only one feeling the distance between them. He wants to ask Alex about the training, but Michael already knows that whatever the military has Alex working on is classified and Alex isn’t allowed to say. And while Alex may disregard the military’s need for secrecy when it comes to anything alien related, he’s a stickler for it with everything else. 

“You’ll be home in two days and then you can do all the touching you want,” Michael assures him. 

Alex smiles, and though it doesn’t completely erase the stress, it’s something. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” 

“You can hold me to more than that, Baby,” he says with a wink that has Alex laughing again. 

“Are you gonna come with me or not?” Alex asks and Michael’s not a complete idiot. He flips the camera around, pulls his pants down, and gives Alex a show. After all, his soldier deserves to know what he’s coming back home to, does he not? 

Tagged: @callieramics​ @redstalkingdeath​

If anyone else would like to be tagged- let me know! 

PS- if anyone wants to see the inspiration photos for Bell in this fic, here you go:

[allsassnoclass]

you could bring down my level of concern

Michael is having a bad night.  Ashton picks him up for ice cream

read on ao3

It’s just after one in the morning, and Michael doesn’t trust his ability to keep it together.  He’s felt like his skin has been pressed too tightly the entire day, and that was before he realized that there’s an entire book he was supposed to read for his contemporary literature class, sitting untouched on his dresser.  He’s got so many tabs open on his computer of assignments that he needs to finish, and he keeps forgetting that he has to email the financial aid office or he’s going to get a late fee on his bills but he can’t exactly email them now at one in the morning because they’re going to think he can’t get his life together on top of being an idiot for forgetting for so long.  He’s been restlessly switching between different social media platforms and opening up Netflix only to close it again when nothing seems to fit, steadfastly ignoring the book, the articles he’s supposed to read with it, and all of the other homework for his music classes.

Shit. He didn’t practice today, and his professor is going to be able to tell when he has his lesson tomorrow.

Michael shifts and unlocks his phone again, but nothing has changed in the three seconds he’s been gone.  He stares at his home screen for a moment, a picture of him and Ashton from before they got back to campus this year, smiles wide and tucked close together.

He saw Ashton two days ago, but he hasn’t really seen him for at least two weeks.  With the new university policies, they’re not allowed to hang out in Ashton’s dorm room or Michael’s apartment anymore, nor be outside together without masks.  This wouldn’t be such a big deal if they both were off campus and could sneak around, but Ashton is an RA.  He’ll get immediately fired if they get caught, and if he somehow does manage to get the virus his entire floor will be put into official quarantine.  It’s not just them who are at risk, and Ashton is too much of a bleeding heart to put all of his residents through that.

As such, Michael has eaten lunch outside with Ashton and facetimed him and spent a lot of time cuddled up to Calum to make up for the fact that he’s technically not allowed to touch Ashton (although no one has noticed them holding hands across the table, or a quick hug before they part for classes).

It’s getting chillier.  When snow starts to fall, Ashton is going to need to concede to hanging out in Michael and Calum’s apartment, because they’re both going to go crazy without it.

Michael already feels like he’s going crazy.  He has assignments and his dishes are dirty and he has no money and everything absolutely sucks and he misses his boyfriend, so he pulls out his phone and sends can you pick me up.

After a moment, he adds please.

Ashton could be asleep already, because he’s been trying really hard to seem well-adjusted for his senior year, and the thought makes panic bubble uncomfortably in Michael’s gut.  He can’t get himself to start his tasks, and he can’t stop picking at his cuticles, a bad habit that everyone has been trying to help him break, and he’s been missing Ashton vaguely since they got back on campus but thinks he’s going to cry if he doesn’t get to see him tonight.

What if Ashton doesn’t want to see him?

Ashton wants you around, Michael says to himself, trying to remember everything his therapist has told him for when he feels like this.  Just because outside circumstances are making it difficult doesn’t mean that he suddenly hates you.

His internal voice doesn’t sound very convincing.  With the way everything has been going lately, Michael wouldn’t be surprised if Ashton suddenly dumped him and Calum moved out and Luke and the girls stopped talking to him so he was miserable and alone.  That’s just about the only way things could get even worse, right?

He doesn’t want to jinx it.

His phone buzzes in his hand, and Michael glances down to see Ashton’s name pop up with the message be there in 5.

Everything snaps into focus when Ashton is near.  This strange crawling sensation under his skin might not fully go away, but maybe it’ll lessen, and maybe Michael will be able to think about school without wanting to throw up.

He slips on a hoodie, shoves on some shoes, and barely remembers to grab his wallet and keys before he’s slipping on a mask and out the door, rushing down the stairs to get out of the apartment building.  The night air does nothing to sooth him, feeling dense and muggy through his mask rather than light and crisp like he wants.  Still, he looks up at the sky and tries to let the slight breeze he can feel against his forehead calm him a little, just enough to hold him over until he can get in Ashton’s car and hopefully breathe properly again.

He’s still trying in vain to find a star that hasn’t been drowned out by light pollution or clouds when Ashton’s car arrives, engine squeaking in a familiar way when he pulls up to the curb a bit too fast, as always.  Michael makes his way to the passenger door and gets in.

“Hey, stranger.  Need a ride?” Ashton quips, and Michael crumples.  Ashton looks soft, wearing pajama pants and a large sweatshirt, hair messy and eyes tired but smile intact.  Michael wants to cry, but instead he just feels uncomfortable, like Ashton is a stranger again and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“Hey,” Ashton says gently, “what’s wrong?”

Michael shrugs.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “Do you want to take off your mask?”

He does, putting it in the pocket of his hoodie, and Ashton smiles.

“There he is,” he says, bringing a hand up to Michael’s cheek, and Michael leans into it, chasing the feeling of Ashton’s hands on his skin.

He’s missed this.  Ashton seems to understand, shifting so he can thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Michael’s neck, then drawing him forward into a kiss.  Michael’s hands come up to grip Ashton’s sweatshirt at the first brush of lips, pressing into it like he’s been drowning and Ashton is his first breath of fresh hair.  Ashton makes a startled noise in the back of his throat, but responds in kind, opening his mouth when prompted and licking into Michael’s, taking control in the way they both like best.  When they part for air a minute later, they don’t go far, pressing their foreheads together while Michael tries to make his fingers loosen their grip.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ashton asks eventually.

“No,” Michael says.  “I don’t know. You’re doing it, I guess.”

He starts to pull away, and Ashton pecks him quickly on the lips again before he lets him.

“Where do you want to go?” Ashton asks.

“Away from campus,” Michael says.

“Ice cream?”

Michael nods, and Ashton starts the car.

The drive is quiet.  Michael makes no move to turn on the radio or get the aux cord, and Ashton lets it be.  Michael stares out the window, letting the houses and street lights pass by on the familiar route.  There’s a Baskin Robbins attached to a Dunkin with 24-hour drive through, and they’ve made a lot of midnight runs there since they started dating.  Some of Michael’s favorite memories from last year include sitting in the parking lot together, talking and laughing and sharing bites of ice cream when one of them got an unusual flavor.  They managed to fit in two trips during the first weeks of the semester, but haven’t been able to go recently due to the campus lockdown.

About halfway there, Ashton reaches over and takes Michael’s hand, thumb rubbing soothing circles on it.  Michael tries to focus on that, rather than the stretched-out feeling still present under his skin.

They pull up to the drive through and Ashton shifts the car into park.  Despite the place not being busy at all, it has astoundingly slow service this late at night.

“Do you want your usual?” Ashton asks, and Michael nods.  When they do eventually order, Ashton gets one scoop of cherry and one scoop of vanilla, and he gets Michael the chocolatiest thing on the menu.  Ashton pays, and once they get their items he pulls into their usual parking space in the corner and turns the car off.

“So,” Ashton says when they’re a few bites in, “I really think you should tell me what’s wrong.”

Michael takes another bite of his ice cream and considers if he knows who to articulate this.

“I feel… bad,” he starts.  “Just--like my skin is too tight, or something, and I can’t focus on anything but I also can’t not focus on anything.  I’m tired but can’t sleep, the world is basically fucking ending and I’m somehow expected to read an entire book by tomorrow. I have so much I’m supposed to do and can’t make myself do any of it, and it’s not even that I don’t have the time, because nothing is happening!  I hate trying to do music classes online, I can’t fucking see my friends, and I miss--”

He stops.  Ashton waits patiently, letting the silence stretch out until Michael is ready to break it again.

“I miss you.  I know we’re doing our best with what we can right now, but it still sucks.”

Ashton reaches out again, gentle hand landing on his arm.  That makes Michael feel the closest he has to crying all night, but it’s still not quite enough.  He wishes this were the type of upset that could be solved with a long hug and a cathartic cry, but it’s not.  This discomfort is the type that gets into his bones and stays for a while.

Michael wishes the gear shift wasn’t in the way, so he could tuck himself against Ashton and hide there until this entire thing is over.

“Going to school right now fucking sucks, and I’m proud of you for handling it as well as you have been,” Ashton says.  It’s a nice thing to say, but it’s useless right now.  Michael knows that going to school right now sucks, and Ashton is always proud of him for doing the bare minimum.  He hums anyway, because Ashton’s trying to help.

“Let’s eat our ice cream and make a plan for the rest of tonight and tomorrow,” Ashton says.  “We’ll figure out the homework stuff, at least, and get to spend time together properly.”

“Can we sit on the hood?” he asks, and thankfully Ashton nods.  The night air is crisper without his mask, or maybe it’s because they’re a bit further from the heart of the city.  Either way, Michael presses close, not willing to forfeit time spent touching Ashton.

Luke is the clingiest out of all of them, but Michael hadn’t realized just how much he enjoyed touch until the virus hit and it was taken away from him.  He was craving Ashton’s long before he wasn’t allowed to have it, and if he didn’t know that Ashton needs the money being an RA provides he would have begged him to quit and move in with him and Calum.

They talk about easy things as they eat, like the shift to Michael’s favorite type of weather that had happened recently and Ashton’s floor programs that he’s planning.  Michael tells him about how Calum almost burnt the apartment down and they just barely avoided having the alarms go off, and Ashton gives an anecdote about residents trying to smuggle two of the campus lawn chairs into their rooms while he was on security.

“They’re just so stupid sometimes,” he says.  “It really is not hard to get away with stuff like that if you put your mind to it, but they obviously didn’t.”  He turns the story into an entire bit, complete with a funny imitation of their bad excuses when he caught them, and it makes Michael laugh.  Some of the weird feeling dissipates.

Ashton gets out his notes app when they finish eating, and Michael leans his head on his shoulder to watch him type up the plan.

Michael will do his music theory homework tonight, but he’s going to stop once it hits three in the morning to go to bed regardless of how much is or is not done.  Ashton will type up a detailed summary of the book he was supposed to read, since apparently it was his favorite when he took the class last semester as part of his major requirement, and have it emailed to Michael by the time his alarm goes off at 8 the next morning.  Hopefully that will be enough for Michael to do the forum posts he’s supposed to, and he should still have time to do his ear training before class.  They can meet up for lunch, then Michael can go to his other two classes, take a break until dinner, spend a bit of time in the practice room, and do his homework for the next day in the evening.

Calum has a study group then, and Michael likes working in the living room while he zooms the others.  It’s easier to stay focused when Calum is, as well, and they’ve gotten into a routine of playing two rounds of Fifa, Smash, or MarioKart during well-timed breaks.

Marked out like this, the tasks look less overwhelming.

“Can you write that I need to email the student fees office during lunch?” he asks.  Ashton nods and adds it to the list.  “And dishes after dinner.”

It’s not too bad when it’s notated like this, and if he doesn’t get his theory homework done tonight he won’t completely fail the class as long as he does all of the other work, although he knows that letting himself slip with one assignment always makes it easier to neglect them in the future, to near-disastrous results.  His lesson might be less-than-stellar tomorrow, but at least Dr. O is nice about it.  He’ll be disappointed, and Michael might cry because he hates falling short of his expectations, but he won’t be mean.

“Doable?” Ashton asks.  Michael nods.  Ashton takes a screenshot of the note and texts it to Michael, then grabs his hand as they sit in silence for a few more minutes.

“We should get back,” Michael says eventually.

“We can stay a bit longer,” Ashton says.  He tightens his grip on Michael’s hand, and maybe

Ashton has been missing him just as much.  Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“I have to do my theory homework, and you’re ready for bed,” he says.

“Wait,” Ashton says as he starts to shift away.  Michael pauses, and Ashton’s hands shift to his waist, leaning in for a deep kiss.  He melts into it, toes curling at the single-minded focus Ashton dedicates to it.  They shift for a better angle, Ashton leaning against the windshield and Michael following him down, and it takes all of Michael’s self-control to pull away before things become too heated.

“I don’t want to give the Baskin Robbins employee a free show,” he says.  Ashton’s fingers dip under his hoodie and shirt, chilly from either the ice cream or the fall air.  Michael shivers at the light brush at the small of his back, and Ashton gives him a lopsided smile.

“It’d be the most interesting thing they’ll see tonight,” he says.

“It’ll also get the police called on us for public indecency,” Michael says.  “Can’t believe I’m having to be the responsible one about this, Mr. I-Am-A-Mature-Resident-Advisor-Who-Will-Do-No-Wrong.”

“You make me feel adventurous,” Ashton says.  Michael hums and kisses him again, and Ashton doesn’t try to escalate it.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “Let’s go back.”

They get in the car, and Michael pulls up a gentle playlist for the ride back.  Ashton hums along to the first song, and something else in Michael’s gut dissipates.  He still feels a bit weird, but he thinks it’s manageable now.  He has a plan, and he has Ashton, and if previous experience is any indicator he should feel okay by the time he wakes up tomorrow morning.

Michael watches Ashton tap out an easy beat on the steering wheel with his thumbs, and takes another deep breath.

Things are kind of fucked now, but it won’t be like this forever.  He’ll be okay.

[bytheangell]

Believe in Something Beautiful

(Read on AO3) (I tried to post this on the ask itself but Tumblr had a crisis and it got all messed up so I had to delete it and make a separate post OOPS) -------------

The opportunity Isabelle gets to study with the Iron Sisters is a once and a lifetime offer, and that’s on top of the fact that it’s something she’s personally dreamt of since she was a little girl. So of course Jace doesn’t so much as blink before agreeing to take over as temporary Head of the Institute while she’s away.

“Are you sure?” she asks for the millionth time before leaving as if this will be the time he suddenly decides to change his mind. “I know you hate the deskwork side of things, and-”

“Iz, it’s fine. It’ll just be a few months, I can handle it. I promise not to let the place burn down while you’re gone.”

The reservations she has are true, of course, but he isn’t going to admit that he’s secretly loathing not only being mostly resigned to an office for the duration of her trip but feeling much more alone without Alec or her around. Instead, he gives her a bright smile and shoos her out the door before she can stall any longer.

The first few days are definitely an adjustment but Jace actually kind of likes the new role once he gets into it. The paperwork sucks, sure, but he makes good use of the still impressively stocked drink cart Alec brought in when he was Head of the Institute, as well as the upgraded plush sofa Isabelle insisted on. All in all being stuck in this particular office isn’t too bad… at least not for the first few weeks.

After that Jace starts to go a little stir-crazy. He tries to keep up with his training, whether it’s with the other Shadowhunters or Simon or just on his own in the training room, but every time he does he’s pulled away for another debriefing or meeting, which leads to more reports until the day is over and it’s already time to go home.

Going ‘home’ nowadays, more often than not, has meant going back to Simon’s apartment. Sometimes Jace stays the night at the Institute but usually only when it’s absolutely necessary. Otherwise, he makes his way to Simon’s place for some quality time with his boyfriend. No matter how tired he is at the end of the day he’s rejuvenated by the sight of Simon, always eager to see him and listen to him complain about whatever nonsense he had to deal with that day. It’s a relationship Jace never saw coming, one he never would’ve imagined for himself in a million years, but’s it’s good. If he wasn’t afraid of jinxing it he might go so far as to say it’s perfect.

Things stay that way until a couple of months into Izzy’s absence. Jace can’t place it at first, just a lingering uncertainty which isn’t something he’s used to feeling. It doesn’t click until he’s training with some of the guys at the Institute and someone pokes a sparring staff at his stomach, making a joke about how he’s getting soft - literally - since taking over for Izzy. It’s an off-handed comment, nothing worse than Jace has said about any of them at one time or another and just meant to poke fun, but it hits something much deeper and Jace finds he can’t let the words slide off him like he normally does. He laughs with the others, of course, and thoroughly kicks their asses during the part of the session he manages to participate in before he’s pulled away to go over something strange on the surveillance cameras, but the words stick with him.

Soft. Jace Wayland has been called a number of things in his life, but soft has never been one of them before now.

When he’s changing in his room to go meet up with Simon, Jace spends a long time looking at himself in the mirror. He isn’t overweight, not given his body’s starting status of ‘abs-sculpted-like-a-statue’s’, but that only makes the lack of definition that much more obvious to him now. Simon hasn’t said anything but surely he’s noticed too, how could he not? Telling himself it isn’t a big deal Jace slips on a fresh shirt and a decent pair of dark jeans to meet Simon after work.

After dinner, sitting on the sofa with Simon’s hands sliding under his t-shirt and up his sides while they make out, Jace is acutely aware of the fact that there’s more to slide over now. When Simon pulls Jace closer by the waist he tenses at the touch as if aware for the first time of the way Simon’s fingers dip into the flesh there.

“Everything alright?” Simon asks, stopping when Jace freezes up.

“I-” Jace starts, uncertain. “I don’t feel so great, actually. Might be something I ate. Mind if we... just don’t, tonight?” Jace feels immediately guilty for the half-truth. He doesn’t feel well all of a sudden but he knows exactly why, and it isn’t bad seafood.

“Of course,” Simon says easily, shifting so Jace can reposition himself next to Simon on the sofa. “Do you need anything? I could run to the store and get some medicine.”

Simon’s immediate concern only doubles Jace’s guilt. “No, I’ll be alright,” Jace insists, wondering if that’s a lie too as Simon turns on the TV until they both fall asleep on the sofa.

---

Jace leaves Simon’s place early enough the next morning to get in an hour-long run before he needs to be at the Institute. He knows it isn’t going to do much - it’s taken months of letting himself go to get this bad, he isn’t going to fix it with a day of jogging, but it feels better than doing nothing. For a few days he makes excuses to not go back to Simon’s place: waiting for a late patrol to come back, covering a security shift, even as lame of an excuse as ‘i’m too tired’ when there really is no other reason he can give.

He doesn’t lie… he just doesn’t add that he’s the one going out of his way to make sure he has things keeping him ‘stuck’ at the Institute at night, though he knows this can’t last forever.

So Jace starts to get clever. Whenever things start to get heated on the nights he does go back to Simon’s, Jace immediately takes control, insisting that he’s going to take care of Simon. It’s actually one of Jace’s favorite things, to watch the way Simon falls apart beneath Jace’s touches, the way he’s so blissed out by the end of a very thorough blowjob that he doesn’t argue too much when Jace insists he doesn’t want anything himself. The sex - the few times Jace lets things get that far - is rushed and always with the lights off, with Jace keeping as much clothing on as possible and almost always finding an excuse to not be able to stay afterward to cuddle.

He hopes, a bit naively, that as long as they’re still having sex that Simon won’t notice anything is wrong. Jace can’t remember the last time he let Simon see him naked, something that used to be very common for them, and he knows the lack of that sort of intimacy won’t go unnoticed forever. With all his other tactics Jace buys himself an extra week or two until Simon’s asking him if something’s wrong again.

“You just seem… distant lately,” Simon continues, concern written all over his face. Jace can’t stand the fact that he caused this gap between them but he can’t bring himself to admit what’s bothering him, either. He’s ruining everything and for what? Simon clearly doesn’t care.

Still, he can’t silence the voice in the back of his head reminding him that this isn’t who Simon signed up for. Jace is all quick wit and sarcasm, he’s confidence and an ego larger than all of Brooklyn. That’s who Simon fell for and expects from him, so that’s who Jace needs to be. He needs to figure out how to feel like himself again, and fast.

“Just a lot on my mind, work stuff. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Jace says, leaning in to give Simon a quick kiss.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About work, or whatever else is going on?” Simon offers.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Jace agrees quickly.

He then proceeds to bury every worry he has deep down into the back of his mind and does his best not to think about it, let alone talk about it, again.

---

Jace continues to make excuses, manipulate any intimate encounters for minimum contact, or just flat-out avoiding Simon entirely. Avoiding is easier than lying and Jace gets better at it as the days pass. Or maybe he just gets more used to it… he isn’t sure he likes the implication of either option.

At first, Simon tries to fight him on it - rearranging his schedule so he can visit Jace at the Institute, trying to insist Jace come over no matter how late it is, doing his best to puppy-dog-eye Jace into staying in bed for more than 5 seconds - but Jace manages to pull himself away every time.

After a while, Simon stops trying so hard. Then Simon stops trying entirely. After not hearing from Simon for two days in a row Jace ends up calling him instead of the other way around.

“Hey, I hadn’t heard from you in a while, I was starting to worry,” Jace says, relieved when Simon picks up.

“I didn’t think you’d notice,” Simon says, his tone casual. Jace can practically hear the shrug behind the words.

“What do you mean?” Jace asks, though he thinks he has a good idea.

“I mean, every time I’ve tried to make plans you blow them off anyway, so I figured I’d stop trying and you could just call me if you ever felt like leaving the Institute again,” Simon replies, and this time there’s a bit of an edge to his tone.

Jace deserves that, but he doesn’t expect it. Not from Simon.

Fuck, what is he doing? He could feel the gap between them forming, he knew he was the cause, and he still let things get so far that Simon has all but given up on him from the sound of it.

“I’m Sorry, Si.” That much isn’t a lie. Jace is sorry.

“Don’t be sorry,” Simon tells him, sounding sad and defeated, and about as tired as Jace keeps claiming to be. “If you’re bored with me just tell me, and we can stop pretending.”

There’s silence over the phone line while Jace processes those words. Is that really what Simon thinks? Is that what Jace let Simon think all this time?

“I’m not,” Jace insists. “It isn’t you, Simon, I swear.”

There’s a long pause, and with obvious reluctance Simon slowly asks, “Is there someone else?”

Jace can hear the fear in his voice, the dread of what answer may come from asking, and his heart breaks knowing it’s all his fault that Simon has these doubts about them.

“No,” Jace says, just as quickly as before. He’s messed things up worse than he realized and wonders if there’s going to be anything to salvage once he’s finally honest with Simon. He has to be honest now - there’s no other option. “We should talk, but not on the phone. Are you-” Jace starts to ask if Simon is free but remembers that he volunteered to take Underhill’s security shift that night so he could go on a date with Lorenzo. Of course, he took it to avoid Simon not knowing everything was going to go so wrong, so quickly. Overly aware of how bad this is going to look now of all times, Jace sighs. “I have to stay late tonight,” Jace winces as he admits. “But tomorrow? First thing in the morning. I’ll come straight over after the shift and we’ll talk.”

“Sure,” Simon agrees easily enough, except Jace knows him well enough to the doubt there, the way he doesn’t get his hopes up that Jace will follow through this time.

“I promise. As soon as the replacement shows up I’m gone. You’re my priority.” He’s already making a note to cancel a mid-day meeting he planned on attending after a few hours of rest, and one later in the afternoon just in case.

Just in case what? In case it takes all day to convince Simon to forgive him? In case Simon doesn’t forgive him and Jace is left to pick up the pieces of his failed relationship? Jace shakes the thought from his head, hoping he hasn’t messed things up that irreparably.

“I love you, Simon,” Jace tells him, holding his breath for the seconds that stretch on after his words before Simon sighs.

“I love you too, Jace.”

The line goes dead and Jace stares at the phone in his hand for several long minutes before pocketing it. The rest of the night is spent counting the seconds until the morning shift will take over while also dreading that moment in equal measure. What is he going to say? He has plenty of time to think about it left alone for most of the night, but he hates everything he comes up with. It doesn’t feel like enough, or it feels like too much, or it feels like he’s making excuses.

A few hours later, tired and weary, he’s out of time to think. The fresh air during his walk to Simon’s works well to clear his head and he reminds himself of one thing: he loves Simon, and he needs to figure out what he can do to fix what he broke. If he starts there then the rest will hopefully fall into place. It isn’t like he has many other options.

Jace knocks on the door and waits with bated breath.

“You’re here,” Simon says when he opens it, and Jace tries not to feel as hurt as he does by the surprised words. He deserves that. He deserves so much worse than that.

“I am,” Jace says. I always will be, if you let me. Please, let me stay, he wants to beg, but doesn’t. Simon steps aside and Jace goes in, making an immediate beeline for the sofa. He’s too anxious to sit, however, and stands back up almost immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Jace starts. It’s the simplest place.

“For…?” Simon prompts.

“For making you think you did something wrong. For avoiding you, instead of telling you what was bothering me.” Jace is certain there’s more than that he should apologize for but it seems like a good starting point. “It just felt so ridiculous, and I figured I’d just get over it… but I didn’t, and it was easier to avoid than admit until we talked last night and I realized how bad I let everything get and I- I don’t want to lose you, Simon.”

Simon, who was doing a very good job standing with his arms crossed looking unimpressed, softens considerably at that. “If it’s bothering you that much it isn’t ridiculous. And I kept telling you that you can talk to me, I wish that you had.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jace admits. “But I am now,” he adds hopefully. It might be too little too late but he has to try.

“So?” Simon prompts again, not letting up. “Do I get to know why my boyfriend’s been avoiding me, or are you just going to say sorry and try to pretend it never happened?”

“I was embarrassed because of the weight I put on.” Jace has to force the words out, already hating himself the moment he hears them leave his lips.

Jace expects Simon to laugh but instead Simon looks him up-and-down in consideration. “I wondered… but you have to know I don’t care about that, right?”

“You might not, but I do.” Jace frowns. “I didn’t realize just how much until I started going out of my way to avoid you even seeing me, let alone touching me.”

“That’s when you started insisting on all those ridiculous quickies,” Simon pieces together, shaking his head. “I should’ve realized.”

“No, I should’ve said something. I thought if I kept it up once and a while it’d be enough to hold things over until I got… comfortable again.”

Simon snorts at that, then looks immediately apologetic. “Sorry. I know this is serious, and the sex is great and all, but you do know I’m dating you for more than just that, right?”

Jace manages a small laugh at that. “I figured it was probably a 75/25 split,” he jokes back. This is a good sign, right? If Simons’ laughing, even for a second, maybe he doesn’t totally hate him.

“My point,” Simon reels the conversation back in. “Is that you should’ve said you were uncomfortable. We could’ve stopped things for a while, or forever if that’s what you want. I’m dating you because I like you, not because of your body. Though, I mean, it is an amazing body.”

“It was stupid,” Jace argues. “I overreacted.”

“Did you?” Simon says, raising an eyebrow. “You still feel that way, don’t you? Even now?”

Jace almost opens his mouth to say that he doesn’t, that everything is fine and he just wants to go back to the way things were before, but he knows it’d be a lie. And he just got done apologizing for not being honest in the first place. It’s a hit to his pride but he knows he needs to tell Simon the truth even if he isn’t happy about it.

“Yeah, I guess,” Jace admits, not meeting Simon’s gaze.

“If it bothers you then it isn’t stupid. I’m mad you didn’t tell me, but I’m not mad you’re uncomfortable. Honestly? I love your body like this. Every last inch of it, whether those inches were there before or not. Hell, it’s nice to have the playing field evened out a bit since I’ll never have your Adonis-abs,” Simon says, and though he eyes Jace’s body he doesn’t make a move to reach out for him.

“Yeah, well, that makes one of us,” Jace mutters, crossing his arms in front of him self-consciously. He hates the space between them, he wants to reach out and pull Simon close and never let him go again, certainly not for as long as he has recently, but he still can’t bring himself to do it.

Simon seems to sense that, too. “But it doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it if you aren’t. I’ll tell you what - let’s just put a hard stop on anything physical until you’re comfortable with it again. But when you are - and I mean the second you give me the okay - I get to show you exactly how beautiful I think you are. Whether you look like you did six months ago, or like you do now, or if you put on 100 more pounds, I’m always going to think you’re gorgeous, and I’m going to remind you every day so you never forget it again, starting now. Jace Wayland, you are the single most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Jace mentally curses the traitorous flush that he feels in his cheeks at the declaration, but smiles. “Thanks, Simon,” he says.

It’s tempting to say that he’s fine, to pull Simon into a kiss he knows after this long won’t stay chaste for long, but he doesn’t want to end up right back where he started and he definitely doesn’t want to risk pushing Simon away again.

“Do you think we could just take a nap? I’m exhausted, and I miss falling asleep with you.” Jace knows after everything he has no right to ask, but any concerns are gone the moment Simon nods eagerly and smiles.

Simon holds true to what he said earlier, stripping down to his boxers before getting into bed, waiting to see where Jace decides to position himself and what he wants to do. Simon doesn’t push things, and when Jace settles in behind him to wrap his arm around Simon - a deliberate choice, they both know now - Simon only shifts slightly to fit in his hold easier, not saying a word.

Feeling more relaxed than he has in weeks, Jace falls asleep almost immediately.

---

When Jace wakes up it’s to Simon running his fingers gently through a loose strand of hair that fell over his face while he slept. At some point Simon must’ve woken up and turned to face Jace, content to simply wait for him to wake up rather than leave.

“Good afternoon, beautiful,” Simon says, and Jace shakes his head.

“You’re really sticking to that, aren’t you?” Jace says, a little surprised.

“Of course I am. I meant it. Until you believe it yourself I’ll just have to believe it enough for the both of us.” Simon gives a little shrug with the one shoulder he can move, and Jace is filled with such a sudden and overwhelming sense of certainty that Simon really does mean it, that he isn’t just saying it to make Jace feel better, that he doesn’t know what to do with the emotion that comes with the realization.

“I wish I could see what you see,” Jace mumbles out the passing thought, still so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize he said it out loud until Simon replies.

“Maybe I can convince you,” Simon offers.

Jace considers the offer for the second time that day. “And how, exactly, would you do that?”

Simon shifts backward so he can sit back on his heels, leaning over Jace as he lays on the bed. “If you’re uncomfortable you’ll tell me to stop, right?”

Jace nods, and Simon pauses an extra second but seems satisfied with his answer. Jace wants to see what he can manage because he misses this. He misses them, and even just spending this morning back with Simon with everything out in the open is doing wonders to ease some of the discomfort he felt before.

“Well,” Simon starts, pushing the comforter off of them entirely to move so that he’s straddling Jace, kneeling on either side of his thighs. “I’d start by saying I’ve noticed you growing your hair out, and I love the way it lifts when the wind catches it just right,” Simon brings a hand up to comb through the light, loose pieces of Jace’s hair that flop into his face when they aren’t styled back, like right now.

“Then I’d tell you how beautiful your cheeks are when they get that little tinge of blush you can’t hide when you’re embarrassed,” Simon continues, leaning over to place a kiss on each of Jace’s cheekbones. Jace can feel that very same blush form there, warm under the cool touch of Simon’s lips, and Simon smiles down at him as he pulls back again. “There it is. Beautiful.”

Simon moves his gaze to Jace’s lips, placing a kiss there, this one lingering long enough that Jace tries to lean up into it just as Simon pulls away again, but not before he catches Jace’s bottom lip in his teeth for just a second before moving down his jawline and onto his neck. Jace tilts his head back to give Simon more access, shuddering at the barely-there scrape of fangs against his throat as Simon speaks in between each kiss. “And how beautiful you are when you open up for me like this,” Simon says, peppering kisses in between. Jace barely manages to hold back a moan as Simon sucks a mark onto the skin just above his collarbone.

Simon sits back again, resting on Jace’s thighs while his hands trail down Jace’s arms.

“I’d tell you how I can’t see your arms without remembering every time you used them to pin me against a wall or lift me up onto a table with such irresistible strength,” Simon continues, his hands moving from Jace’s arms to grab the bottom of Jace’s t-shirt and pull it off over his head, giving him access to Jace’s chest. Simon rocks his hips ever so slightly with the action and Jace’s breath catches, instinctively arching his body up off the bed to chase the brief friction.

“I’d tell you that ever since you started putting on weight-” Simon’s words slow deliberately, his eyes full of lust and wanting as they trail down Jace’s body, followed by that gentle caress of his fingertips again. “-I’ve dreamt about the way it’d feel when I held on to it while I fucked you, imagined the beautiful marks I’d leave there, the soft skin bruised over and scratched-”

“Fuck, Si,” Jace barely manages to breathe out, eyes closed as he pictures it and… yeah, okay, maybe he can see what Simon sees. Simon’s words make him want it too, his thoughts lost in the knowledge that it’ll be so much better than he can even imagine, if only because it’s them, and suddenly Jace is entirely incapable of finding anything unappealing in the idea of giving himself over entirely to Simon. Everything he built up in his head, all the reservations and self-consciousness, fade to nothing but distant background noise while he’s here in Simon’s arms.

Simon, goddamn him, hovers over him, smirking.

For the first time in weeks Jace feels desire without reservation wash over him, but it isn’t desire in spite of the idea of Simon touching him - it’s because of the idea of Simon’s hands on him, revering his body just as it is now, that has every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. Jace had been so trapped in his own head and his inability to feel nothing but disgust over the changes in his body that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Simon might actually like them, or at least not hate them the way Jace did.

“Show me,” Jace says suddenly, and Simon wastes no time bringing his hands from Jace’s shoulders down his chest, teasing gentle touches along his sides.

“So beautiful,” Simon repeats, peppering kisses down his stomach, his hip bones, stopping right at the line of Jace’s boxers to look back up at him in question one last time. Jace nods, not trusting his words just then, and a minute later both his and Simon’s underwear are discarded on the floor next to the bed.

“You’re perfect, Jace,” Simon tells him, and Jace can feel the heat rise not just in his cheeks but everywhere, his entire body alight with the effect Simon’s words have on him. “And all mine. I’m so lucky to have you like this all. to. my. self.” Simon emphasizes each word with a small bite, two on the inside of each thigh.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Jace says, letting out a small gasp as Simon begins to stretch him. All thoughts, positive or negative, leave him entirely as Jace loses himself to the passion of the moment, to the feeling of being wanted, of being longed for.

True to his word, Simon never lets Jace forget exactly why he’s here and why they’re doing this. Jace is surprised when, after all their time apart recently and all the buildup, Simon takes things slowly. He never stops telling Jace how beautiful he is as he’s keeping his promise of marking every inch of skin he can, always returning to slide his hands over Jace’s stomach and sides and thighs, gripping them tight, giving them the most attention.

Jace embraces every new sensation - the way it feels to have Simon’s fingers press into areas of him that were nothing but unforgiving bone and muscle before, appreciating the way their bodies seem to blend and connect in ways they didn’t before.

Jace is aware of every time Simon glances up at his face just to double-check he’s still alright, still with him. Jace is aware that every touch, even the rough ones, are a reassurance and a comfort.

Jace is aware that this is Simon taking care of him, mind, body, and soul, from start to finish. And he knows that care doesn’t end now that they’re lying next to each other again to catch their breaths.

“That… was…” Simon starts, but Jace cuts him off.

“Beautiful?” Jace suggests, with the slightest teasing tone to his words. “I know.”

“Do you?” Simon asks, not teasing at all, and Jace’s taunting smirk fades to something softer.

Jace spent his entire life being who he thought others expected him to be, living up to the expectations set by those around him. There was always a push to do better, to be better, that he’s never felt satisfied with where he is at any given time. There’s always something to change, something to improve. But here, now, with Simon, he feels like for the first time he’s able to be okay with who he is and the way things are right now. That he’s fine, just like this.

“Yeah,” he says, probably about as surprised as Simon to find that he isn’t just saying it to deflect now - he actually means it this time. “Yeah, I do.”

[itsanerdlife]

Come Back to Me 5/20

Pairing: Clint Barton x Coulson’s Daughter!Reader

Warning: Angst. Drama. Struggles. Violence? Lying. Anger. Soul shattering ache in your chest. Self hate. Doubts. Plot twist!

Everything slips right through his hands in the blink of an eye. Clint Barton can fix anything. World Ending? Save it. Bad Guys? Take ‘em out. The love of his life, his soul mate, forgetting their whole relationship? Fight even harder. She might not remember what they have. She might be confused, lost, scared, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if she thinks he’ll give up that easy. He’ll do anything he has too. Help her remember, or make her fall in love with him, all over again. But what if it’s not him that she’s getting close to this time? What if it’s a losing fight? Is he supposed to watch the woman he loves, fall for someone else? Like hell, is he letting that happen.

Tag List Is Open!!

“In coming!” Someone yells as the elevator opens. Cho and her medical team rush off with the gurney. Covered in ash, small cuts and a gash in her head, Y/N hasn’t woken still. Buck stumbles off after them, mumbling to Cho.

“Buck!?” He calls, catching his attention when the medic team cuts him off.

“Barton!” Bucky looks back, rushing towards them. Nat’s wrapped around him quickly.

“What happened, Buck?” Steve asks.

“They fucking blew the building. Whatever they were doing, they didn’t want us to know about.” He runs his hand through his hair. It’s a tangled, knotted, unkempt mess. “I took the blunt of it. I tried to keep her from getting to hurt.” Buck swallows, looking down at Nat.

“Just walk us through it.” She nods.

“It’s so stupid, Nat.” Buck shakes his head. “I had her. I swore it was the right thing to do. We were sliding across the ground. I put my fucking hand out.” He holds up his metal hand. “Her head bounced off it.” He swallows.

“She hit her head on your arm?” Sam lifts a brow.

“It made a nasty noise.” Buck shakes his head.

“You were trying to protect her.” Nat assures her husband.

“I tried, and I broke her.” Bucky’s voice shakes.

“Bucky.” Clint sniffs, lifting his head. “It could be so much worse if you didn’t do what you did. She’s still breathing. There’s a chance. If you hadn’t, I can’t imagine what it would be like. She’d be dead.” He grips Buck’s shoulder. Sucking in a deep breathe.

“I’m so sorry Clint.” Buck breaks first, dropping his head to Clint’s shoulder. He does the one thing he can, hugs Bucky. He nods, feeling the welling in his own eyes.

“Stark.” Cho stands in the opening.

“What do you need?” Tony steps forward.

“Neuro specialist.” Cho swallows. “She’s got swelling. It’s not my specialty.” She admit.

“Strange.” Peter blurts out.

“What?” They look over at him.

“He, he’s a neuro specialist. His ah that other girl, Palmer. She’s his prodigy.” Peter nods.

“FRIDAY, call Strange. Tell him it’s a medical emergency. Open a fucking portal into the damn Med Bay if he has too.” Tony demands.

“Yes Sir.” She complies.

It’s minutes when they sit down, waiting. Sparks and gold lights cut into a wide opening off to the far side of the waiting room. Strange steps through with a woman. She looks a little confused, he was going to assume that was over the portal.

“Tony what happened?” Strange looks around.

“Y/N.” Clint swallows.

“Christina.” Strange nods, she moves away. Heading down the hall, meeting Cho. “How bad?”

“She hit her head on Bucky’s arm.” Peter explains.

“Trip and fall?” Strange lifts a brow.

“Explosion.” Nat swallows hard.

“I’ll go help Christina.” He nods, jogging after the doctor.

“I’ve read they’re the best. She is, Strange, doesn’t practice anymore. But she’s world renowned. When Strange stepped down, she took his place. She does miracle work.” Peter nods, trying to bring them some form of comfort.

“Thanks Peter.” Clint nods, dragging his hands down his face.

“I just mean, she’s in the best hands.” Peter shrugs.

“We know kid.” Tony assures his child.

“What if the damage is too bad?” Buck squeezes his eyes shut, pain ripping through his expression.

“She’s a good person. Good solider.” Steve spoke softly. Suddenly sitting up quickly. Buck’s head comes up, with wide eyes.

“Steve, Bucky. To my lab.” Tony jumps up. Clint watches them go, unable to even ask for an explanation.

“There is someone, I need to, make a call.” Peter slips from his chair, leaving as well.

“Should someone call Coulson?” Banner asks.

“I will.” Nat nods. She too stands and leaves the room.

“We need to do some testing and want to give her something for the pain. Is she allergic to anything?” Strange is standing in the opening.

“No, not medication.” Clint shakes his head.

“Any medical information we need?” Strange asks.

“Ahh. Yeah, she can’t be on heavy pain meds without making her sick. She’s got low iron, she takes a pill for it.” He rattles it off quickly.

“Good, I can make sure she gets the iron supplement, we’ll give her a nausea med to balance the pain meds.” Strange explains. Sam pats him on the shoulder, reminding him he wasn’t alone. Wanda laces her fingers with his. 

“Thank you.” She speaks up, when he can’t get his mouth to open again.

“I’ll keep you updated.” Strange nods, leaving once more.

“I jinxed it.” Clint whispers to himself. Nat is stepping back into the room.

“How?” Sam looks confused.

“I bought a ring, planned to ask her to spend her life with me.” He shakes his head, tears wetting his cheeks. “I jinxed it. Now she’s slipping through my fingers.” He sniffs.

“I did it. I pushed you. If anyone jinxed things, it was me. I’m at fault.” Nat speaks up.

“Nat. No.” He swallows.

“If Buck was here, he’d say it was his fault.” Sam adds.

“We’re all at fault.” Wanda’s voice the strongest. Her head held up. “We all fucked up. It should have been more than the two of them. I could have gone.” She looks between them. “You should have asked her a long time ago. Nat shouldn’t have tricked her. We all suck.” She shrugs. “But that’s family. We fuck up, but we stick together.”

“Coulson is flying out.” Nat explains, coming to take a seat.

“Guess calling him was premature.” Clint nods. Remembering the phone call with Coulson only hours before.

“He thought I was calling with her answer.” Nat admits.

“Damn.” Sam whispers.

“I’m going to see if there is anything I can do to help.” Banner stands, leaving but he doesn’t head for the Med room, he heads for the elevator like the others.

“I feel like,” Clint shifts in his seat, panic rising in his chest “like I, I can’t breathe.” He pulls at the collar of his T-shirt.

“Want to climb up into the rafters?” Sam offers. Wanda and Nat give him a dirty look. “It was a serious offer.” Sam huffs.

“Come on.” Nat grabs his hand, pulling him up.

“We can’t leave.” He tries to tug back.

“We’ll stay. FRIDAY will page you the second Strange is coming towards us.” Wanda nods.

“Come on.” Nat leads him towards the elevator.

“Nat I don’t think, I can’t breathe.” He swallows, taking short breathes. Feeling like he can’t get a good deep breathe.

“Shhh Barton. Focus on taking slow breathes.” She mummers softly. The elevator moves up, he tries to focus on breathing, but it just feels like he’s being slowly suffocated. The doors slide open and they’re on the landing pad. The breeze hits them, Nat pulls him from the elevator. “Deep breathes.” Her voice soft. “Marc, you see best from a distance. You breathe just the same.” She nods.

He sucks in a shaky, uneven breathe. He crumples, slumping back against the side wall. Deep breathes, the clarity he needed, was his undoing. Nat wraps around him, dropping down beside him. Allowing him to sob into her shoulder.

In coming alert warns them, someone was landing soon. His head comes up, Nat looks over. A quin jet hovers as it slows it’s landing on the pad. The jet slowly being pulled in under the cover of the tower. 

They exchange a look as the jet turns on the pad. The ramp beeps loudly, before slowly lowering. Standing in the opening, waiting for the ramp to come down. Phil Coulson.

“Sorry I took so long.” He steps down the ramp.

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

Everything Peaches 9/3/19 @mo320​ @courtmr​ @avxgers​ @eliza-kat​ @irepeldirt​ @jordan-ia​ @jcc04220​ @dumblani​ @nishanki1 @allyp1023​ @joannie95​ @rogvewitch​ @rileyloves5​ @sarahp879​ @sexyvixen7​ @doctoranon​ @queentoffee

@abschaffer2​ @tony-stank3​ @tomhardy41​ @bookluver01​ @drayshadow​ @teller258316​ @wandressfox​ @cutekittybast​ @amandab-ftw​ @carostar2020​ @thelostallycat​ @henrietteoaks​ @nea90sweetie​ @circusofchaos​ @bettercallsabs​ @miraclesoflove​ @queenkrissy11​ @shield-agent78​ @elite4cekalyma​ @sadyoungadult​ @destiel-artemis​ @isabelcrichards​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @sweet-honey15​ @scooby-doodoo​ @chanelmadrid13​ @killerbumblebee​ @spookygrantaire​ @geeksareunique​ @supernatural508​ @itzmegaaaaaaan​ @optimistic-babes​ @elizabethaellison​ @rainbowkisses31​ @aspiringtranslator​ @mariekoukie6661​ @pure-princess-97​ @capsheadquaters​ @youclickedthislink​ @futuremrsb-r-main​ @lovemarvelousfics​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @petersunderoos96​ @loving-life-my-way​ @itsy-bitsy-spidergirl​ @buckystolemyheart​ @booktvmoviefangirl​ @thatpeachybandgirl​ @supernatural-girl97​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @eggingamazinglove​ @deathofmissjackson​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @muffininahandbasket​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @laneygthememequeen​ @writingaworldofmyown​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @shann-the-artist-moon​ @supernaturallover2002​ @daughterofthenight117​ @mcuwillbethedeathofme​ @verymuchclosetedfangirl​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan​ @crazy-little-thing-called-buck​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @stupendoussciencenaturepanda​ @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​

Clint ‘Destory Me, I’ll Thank You’ Barton: @ml7010​ @sfreeborn​ @tanelle83​ @coley0823​ @xxloki81xx​ @boltsgirl919​ @carissime72​ @katpatrova17​ @honey-bee-holly​ @marvelfansworld​ @badassbeckettswan​ @fallinginlovewithqueue​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​

CBTM: @lakamaa12​ @alina-barnes​ @one-of-castiels​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @thedoctorlivesthroughbooks​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​

[padfootprongslet]

I'm so down for that.

Unwind Me by delgay

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged.

“Can you?” Alex returned.

“No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.”

Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.

When I'm Oceans Away by neapeaikea

While searching for an alien child, Michael runs into Alex, ten years after Alex ran away from Roswell and broke Michael's heart.

A Soft and Elegant Semaphore by InsidiousIntent

Roswell New Mexico is moving forward. Alex Manes is not.

Breathing by EmmaArthur

Kyle calls Liz to tell her Alex is in the hospital with pneumonia. She discovers that she's missed quite a lot of her friend's life lately.

Note: Pretty much anything by this author is a stellar read. Including,  Looking Straight At The Sun

We All Act a Little Bad Sometimes by lostin_space

Alex confronts Isobel and Max on how they treat Michael.

I Never Look Away by Adillard

Post 1x13 fic. With Rosa alive and Max dead, there are a lot of things to figure out. Michael and Alex have to work through things and talk about things that neither wants to.

Mostly Malex with more of Echo to come- my version of season 2 :)

Mostly focuses on Michael and Alex's perspective of things.

More chapters to come-

A Simple Life (but with aliens) by BeStillMySlashyHeart

“I’m leaving Roswell,” he said again, firmer this time. “But I don’t want to leave you.”

Michael’s brow furrowed and he shifted to look at Alex. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I like you. A lot. And I don’t want to lose whatever this is between us. It sounds crazy, I know, we hardly know each other, but-”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed and his face lit up in wonder. “You feel it too?”

Alex moves back to Roswell ten years after leaving but it's not a fractured maybe of a relationship he's coming home to. No. This time, he's coming home to his family.

[The Season 1 rewrite no one asked for where Michael and Alex have been in a long distance relationship since high school and it changes things]

We both carry a switchblade in our sleeves by soberqueerinthewild

An Isobel & Alex post-finale friendship fic. Includes self defense classes and a whole lot of sass.

Team Mutual Support System by Obsessivecompulsivereadr

“Are we developing a mutual support system here?”

“Why not?” she asked.  “We’ve both been fucked over by people who were supposed to love us.  Who better to understand me than you?”

The Cost of Greatness by BeStillMySlashyHeart, reachedthebitterend

“You broke up with Maria,” Alex said quietly, his surprise evident in his voice.

Michael nodded again.

“Why?”

Michael stared at him before laughing lightly. “Are you serious?”

Alex blinked. “I didn’t think you’d-”

“What? Leave her?” Michael leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the arm as he looked at Alex. “I meant what I said Alex. Being with Maria was easy and it was good but that’s all. And I just- I’ve had great. I want great. And I know that I’ll never find it anywhere else. With anyone else.” He leaned forward. “I want you, Alex.”

if you ever wanna be in love (i'll come around) by fraudulentzodiacs

Alex is through walking away, now he's going to prove it to Michael.

Like you wanted it forever. by caitlesshea

In the months since Maria and Michael have started dating, Alex has steered clear of both of them. So what does he do when Maria calls in a panic and can't find Michael? Help of course. He's family.

Or

A Secret Marriage AU nobody asked for.

But I Still Care by Sismyn

Alex tells Rosa the story of Malex. She doesn't like the current ending.

How Do We Fix What's Broken by Sweetgirl2019

Picks up where the finale ended. The aftermath of everything that happened. Lots of angst and a violent exchange in the first chapter.

words echo out yesterday by estel_willow

He keeps telling himself ten more minutes. He’ll wait another ten minutes and then he’ll leave, go back to the cabin and think very carefully about his life choices. He never quite knows what to do with himself when he’s waiting, sitting and hoping for the sounds of Michael’s truck to rumble into view. He’s not good at waiting when there’s no military payoff but here he is, regardless, sitting and waiting for someone who may never come. He checks the time again.

Ten more minutes, he thinks. Ten more minutes.

sometimes letting go is part of loving, (but I never want to) by itsmylifekay

In the wake of Michael and Maria and alien conspiracies, Alex is just trying to keep moving forward, to do what he can to fix the mess his life has become. That generally means avoiding Michael. Unfortunately, the universe has other plans.

Or, five time Michael holds on and one time he doesn't.(it ends well, I promise)

Hearts will hold by InsidiousIntent

He never falls out of love, but he thinks he definitely falls in love, actually.

Note: This one fucking hurts and includes Michael cheating on Alex with Maria, if that’s not your thing.

Cosmic Agony by BeStillMySlashyHeart

The problem with not letting many people in is that when you need someone, it's a short list.

Michael and Alex are both dealing with a lot and in their lowest moments they can only turn to each other. Somehow, this develops to the point where they can no longer go to sleep without the other.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering Michael's dating Maria.

Just You & Me by Sweetgirl2019

After Michael chooses Maria in the finale, Alex decides he needs to make a change. When Michael realizes his mistake, will it be too late?

Now Who’s the Coward? by a1_kitkat

Kyle is angry at how Michael & Maria treated Alex so when he sees the couple together, he gives them a piece of his mind

every traveler, please come home by AndreaLyn

Michael gets sent back in time to relive the best and worst day of his life. Then he does it over and over until he realizes that he has a chance to fix it.

he made me feel (like i belonged) by estel_willow

He heard the sound of giggling from inside and then Michael's voice, soft and low. He knew he should move away but some masochistic part of him had him standing where he was as he heard Maria say Michael's name in a way that definitely wasn't platonic and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He felt nauseated.

Blood was pounding in his ears and Alex just stood there dumbly for a moment before he shrugged off his backpack and put it on the floor, just underneath the steps where it was obscured but Michael would know it was there as soon as he moved the trailer to go into his bunker.

He breathed out again, past the cloying tightness in his chest. Hadn't they just talked about starting over? Doing it the right way? Hadn't Maria promised him it would never happen again, that it had meant nothing? The way she moaned his name didn't sound like the moan of a dirty, no good, Texas rounder.

This Is Gospel by BillieJoeArmstrong

A weird glowing rock forces Alex to tell the truth.

I just want you to know who I am by littlecountrymouse

It takes them the whole weekend with a break in the middle to get through as much of Michael’s heritage as possible, but it’s eleven PM on Sunday night, and that little voice in Michael’s head reminds him that Alex still hasn’t asked about the situation with Maria.

Not even twenty seconds later, Alex pipes up, his voice carefully neutral, and Michael wonders if the smart little shit is more telepathic than Isobel, or if he just jinxed himself.

“So, why Maria?”

trying to find my peace of mind by alexmanes

Alex doesn't understand why his husband has been so distant lately, but he's determined to get to the bottom of their marital problems. One way or another, he's going to get the answers he so desperately wants.

[katherinewilliams221b]

Datura stramonium Part 3: Romania’s secret

Summary: With Vasile and Charlie's help, Kate starts making some real progress.

A/N: All the references I used to write this fic will we posted when the series ends.

Remember this is fiction. If you want accurate facts about History this is not the right place.

Kate sighed disappointed. That morning she had told her friend and co-worker, Vasile, about her research. When she mentioned the hospital records for any evidence that the plant was ever used in healing, she didn’t imagine that the files filled two entire rooms. It was going to be impossible to read every archive in the hospital without knowing exactly what to look for.

Rahela’s voice, one of her co-workers, brought her back to reality. “Diagnose a kid or the woman with a cold?” Kate grabbed a file from Rahela’s hands and read quickly. “I’ll take care of the kid” Rahela sighed in relief and Kate chuckled. “Why do you even ask me if you have a preference?” “Hey, I was just being polite.” Kate rolled her eyes and made her way to the end of the hallway, where a little boy was laying on one of the beds. He couldn’t be older that eight. The woman next to him, presumably his mother, stood up abruptly. “What’s going on? He tries to speak but can’t, and he started swelling up and…” she gasped “Is he going to die?” Kate glanced at the boy. Allergic reaction. Curse. Mumblemumps. Jinx. She put a hand on the woman’s shoulder and smiled kindly. “No, no. No one is going to die here.” She moved beside the boy and touched his swollen throat and neck. “What’s your name?” she smiled. He opened his mouth but only a groan came out. “Ryan.” The mother answered for him with a hand on her chest. Kate inspected his face and it was as red as his neck. “Does it hurt, Ryan?” He shrugged with one shoulder. Allergic reaction. Mumblemumps. Jinx. “I’m going to inspect your stomach, now.” She lifted the shirt he was wearing and revealed a healthy and normal torso. Allergic reaction. Mumblemumps. “Can you open your mouth?” The boy shook his head and looked at his mother. “I need you to try a little bit. I need to see your throat. Lumos.” Ryan’s mouth opened slightly, and Kate pointed her wand to look inside. “Alright, Ryan, you have mumblemumps.” His little eyes widened in horror making Kate chuckle. “You are going to be okay. Your neck and head will be swollen for a couple of weeks, it’s common among young wizards, very contagious.” She opened a pocket from her belt, where she kept most of her potions, and handed the mother a very small flask with a purple liquid inside. “He is going to be uncomfortable for a while. That’s just a sleeping potion. A couple of drops is enough, but only if it’s strictly necessary. It will go away with time, he’ll have to stay in bed the whole process.” She turned to Ryan. “It’s going to be boring.” She leaned in, as if going to tell him a secret but spoke loud enough for the mother to hear. “In my experience, ice cream helps a lot.” His eyes lit up and she winked at him. When Kate looked up, she saw Nougal, her boss, making a sign for her to approach him. “We’re finished here. Come back in two weeks if he is still like this. If by any chance looks worse, come immediately.” She said to the mother who sent her a smile. “Thank you.”

Nougal’s dark face showed a mix of concern and disappointment. “I thought I was clear when I said no personal business while working.” Katie frowned. “What?” Nougal handed her an envelope with her name on it, turned around and left without saying another word. Kate sighed and shook her head. The letter didn’t have an address nor a remittent or a stamp.

Thursday evening. Bucovina.

-          Eleonor.

 She saw blonde hair from the corner of her eye. “Hey, what’s that?” Alina, her hardworking but inquisitive co-worker appeared in front of her. Kate tucked the letter in her uniform’s pocket. “Just a to-do list for the week. I’m finished for today. Did you want something?” Alina didn’t seem fully satisfied. “Yeah, Vasile wanted to see you. He’s upstairs.” “Thank you, Alina.” She tried to escape as fast as she could to avoid questions, she checked out with her healer ID and went upstairs to meet Vasile. The desire of going home to Charlie was growing stronger with every step.

“Katherine! There you are. I know you wanted to keep a low profile on this, but I told Mother about you and…” Kate let out an exasperated huff. “Vasile!” “I know, I know but, remember I told you that the monastery was abandoned?” “Yes, because of the plague.” “Exactly. Apart from the cursed bell legend, there’s another one that says that the ghost of a beautiful woman can be seen in the entrance. She is Ancuta, the daughter of lady Chiajna who ordered to kill her because she ran away with her lover.” Kate shrugged and shook her head, not understanding. Vasile stretched out his hand for her to take. They vanished in the air and reappeared in a dark room. “Lumos” Their wands illuminated stone walls, covered in a thin layer of moist. They were underground, just below the hospital. “The disease was personified as an ugly, old lady and so was…” He grabbed a large cloth and pulled at it, revealing the painting of a woman looking at the distance. “…Ciumăfaie.” Kate’s eyes widened and leaned forward to watch the painting more closely. “Ciumăfaie was the nickname it was given to lady Chiajna, since the effects of the plant when ingested were as horrid and hard as the symptoms of the plague. And she was associated with death, so…” “She wasn’t very popular, huh?” Vasile grinned.

“These are only legends, Katherine, but really interesting ones.”

--

Charlie fell asleep before her that night. She was laying on the bed wide awake, with Charlie sprawled next to her and a leg over her thighs. Staring at the darkness she wondered how could the witches know where to find her? And most importantly, did they know she wanted to see them? The man’s soft snores pulled her out of her thoughts and for the first time she was uncomfortable with his weight on her. She tried to move his leg off her, but Charlie shifted his position and hugged her, now more firmly with his leg and arm. His ginger curls tickling her chin. “Merlin, Charles.” She huffed. She couldn’t help envying his peaceful sleep. Burying a hand in his hair, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. What did they want to talk about? Well, it would be my chance to know more about Datura. She opened her eyes again and rubbed her face. It was useless to try to sleep. Carefully she grabbed Charlie’s arm and lifted it putting it gently on his side. She winced when he moved, but he only adjusted and turned his back to her, still asleep. She put a jumper on and left the room, closing the door behind her.

She grabbed a thick blanket that rested on the back of the couch in the sitting room and headed to the porch. The night was calm, cool breeze touched her face and she shivered.

After turning one of the lights on, she laid on the little bench that they kept there and snuggled under the blanket. She stared at the clouds in the sky, moving slowly away from her. They revealed the moon, almost full, bright and big staring back at her. She thought of Vasile and wished she could solve all his problems. She was very lucky for having a friend like him. He couldn’t be like the father she never had, because she did have one. But Vasile acted more like a parent than hers ever did. Telling him about her project was the right decision but she wondered if she should have mentioned the three witches that filled her mind.

A light weight was suddenly on her legs followed by a meow. “Hello, Grimoire. Where have you been?” she scratched the cat’s soft head. He purred happily and curled up next to her. “Would you accompany me to Bucharest tomorrow? See the city?” The cat huffed, offended but remained by her side. “I could use some help. Maybe I can teach you how to read, I’m going to do a lot of that tomorrow.” Grimoire’s head turned, and he stared at Kate. “Bill says I’m crazy, but I know you can understand me.” He closed his eyes, clearly bored with the conversation. “Alright, ignore me.” she chuckled and looked at the moon again.

It must have been very early in the morning because she remembered strong arms lifting her in the air. She landed on a soft surface and something warm covered her body. A kiss to her temple made her fall completely asleep again.

 Kate knew perfectly well that she wouldn’t be able to check all the books of all the libraries in Bucharest and that irritated her with no measure. Vasile told her a connection between Datura and Bucharest’s history and even the smallest amount of information would be better than nothing.

When Charlie suggested a muggle library, he didn’t specify which one. Fourteen libraries filled Bucharest and for a moment Kate found it overwhelming. Over lunch, Kate had made a list with all of them and, with Vasile’s help, crossed out the ones related to industry, materials, children, engineering, design and architecture. Leaving Metropolitan Library of Bucharest, National Library of Romania and Central University Library.

She spent three hours untidying the botanic section at the Metropolitan Library of Bucharest, checking every single book she considered it could be useful. Nothing. She was on her way to the exit when she passed the history section, and something caught her eye. Bucharest. Touristic guide. There were a few of them and she picked up the one in English.  She opened it and slid a finger through the index page.

“Come on, come on, come on.”

                      7.3. Myths and Legends

Kate grinned and flipped the pages excited. “Cismigiu hotel, Hospital of Posts, The Orphanage on the French Street, Vernescu house…where are you? Bellu cemetery… Chiajna monastery.”

Is a historical monument on the outskirts of Bucharest’s Giulesti neighborhood, subject of many legends and urban myths.

The construction of the Chiajna Monastery began during the reign of Alexandru Voda Ypsilanti and was completed during Nicolae Mavrocordat’s time, during the eighteenth century.

Legend says that the church was bombarded by the Turks even before consecration. Reportedly, the Turks believed that the church was a military objective and tried to destroy it. All the documents within the church were burned, though the building itself remained standing.

 Centuries ago, the bells were heard in Romanian monasteries when the Turks were visible on the horizon. Today, one can still hear the bells ringing.

It’s certain that several murders took place there. Rumor has it that police forensics said that the respective murders are part of the “Chiajna curse”.

“Alright, but what about Ciumfaie, huh?” she said to herself. After checking some other guides she finally sat down on the floor and wrote a few lines on her journal before going home.

There’re no records of the plant in botanic books.

Metropolitan Library of Bucharest: check medicine and history.

Later that night, Charlie and Kate found themselves in the bathroom, Charlie sat on a stool and Kate with a pair of scissors in hand.

“Stop moving!” Charlie looked at her through the mirror and smiled at her concentrated expression. “I can’t help it if I’m talking…” “Then don’t talk.” She said matter- of- factly. “I told you it’s fine.” Kate grabbed a small mirror and situated it so he could see the back of his head. She arched her eyebrows waiting for his reaction. “Okay, maybe it’s not that fine” he chuckled after seeing the burned ends of his hair and the chunk that was missing. She grinned shaking her head and kept cutting ginger locks. “I don’t even want to know what lead to this…”

“Let’s say we confirmed Hogwarts’ motto.” He said while sneaking a hand behind his back and tickling the back of Katie’s knee. “Charles!” she squealed. After checking she didn’t mess up his hair, she laughed and threw him a mocking face through the mirror.

“So, at what time do you want us to go to Bucovina tomorrow? They weren’t very specific…”

Kate tilted her head. “Us? You have to go to work.” “Yes, but we’re going together afterwards. Oh, by the way, on Saturday I’ll do extra hours…” She paused and looked at him through the mirror. “I’m not going to stay here until Merlin knows when, waiting for you and wondering if those witches poisoned you or something.” After staring at him for a moment, she smiled and nodded, returning to her task. “Besides, two wands are better than one.” “I’ve been alone with them before.” He shrugged. “Still.” Kate grabbed his shoulder “Don’t move!”.  After cutting a few more hairs, Kate removed the towel he had over his shoulders and put the scissors down. “Alright, mister, you’re done. No charge today.” He reached out and touched his neck. “It’s too short!” Kate threw a spell over a broom and it started to get rid of the hairs on the floor. “Well, if you had stood still as I told you, I wouldn’t have needed to even out your hair.” She patted his shoulder and grabbed her toothbrush, starting her night routine. He took the toothpaste and put a little bit on both of their toothbrushes. “We’re going with the portkey we used the first time. It connects both Sanctuaries.”

--

Katie needed a few moments to recompose herself when they landed in Bucovina. Long distance travels made her terribly sick. They walked hand in hand to the village and Kate started explaining where she had bought the children’s book and how Eleonor followed her through the streets. They reached the outskirts of the village and saw the small hut where the witches lived.

Kate raised her fist but before she could knock, the door opened revealing the dark room inside. I don’t like this, Charlie thought. Like she could read his mind, Kate squeezed his hand before letting go and ventured inside.

Suddenly, someone jumped from her left and landed millimetres away from her. “For Merlin’s sake!” Kate put a hand on her chest and clutched her necklace. Maura, the youngest of the sisters, moved away from her laughing hysterically and disappearing behind a green curtain. “Maura, behave.” She heard Eleonor say. She appeared in front of them and extended her hand to Charlie. “I have to admit this wasn’t planned.” Charlie frowned but shook her hand anyway. “I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.”

“Why did you want to see me?” Kate intervened. Eleonor gestured her to follow her. They approached a wooden table with a flowerpot in the middle. A white flower with big leaves was growing inside. Kate inspected it and saw the inside of the flower was purple.

“Since you were having trouble gathering information we thought we could give you a little push” Kate frowned “What are you…” Eleonor rounded the table and moved the pot towards Kate. “I present you: Ciumfaie.” Kate looked at her with wide eyes. “It grows freely in Romania. It’s everywhere. Generally flowers during summer, but we decided you might want one now.”

“You knew I was investigating it?”

“Of course. She saw you.” Kate turned her head to the old woman on the floor. Rin. The witch that practiced divination. Rin smiled but kept her eyes closed. “I must admit it took longer than it should to discover what was the purpose of your first visit. But now its clear. Sadly, we can’t help any anymore. This is all we can do for you.” Eleonor looked at her more seriously. “It’s time to go.” Kate and Charlie didn’t have time to react when they heard Maura sing “Bye, bye!” and everything went black.

Kate woke up abruptly. She looked around and found herself in her room alone. She touched her forehead. She was sweating. “Please don’t let it be a dream, please don’t let it be a dream.” She got up from bed and ran to the sitting room. Datura was placed on the coffee table, staring at her. Kate sighed, relieved.

“It’s time to reveal Romania’s secret, that’s you, by the way.” She said to the flower.

“Datura stramonium.”

--

Tag List

@eldritchscreech

@garbdump

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer (8/11)

Title: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer Summary: Brooke Lynn is a graduate student anxiously embracing her new position as her favorite dance professors’ new TA. Vanessa is a sophomore dance major who just might make her way into being more than the teacher(assistant)’s pet. (lesbian/university AU) Word Count: ~2.4k (this chapter)/~21.3k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Vanessa ‘Vanjie’ Mateo/Brooke Lynn Hytes) Rating: E

Read on AO3 | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch.5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7

“Please, please, please? Come on, I think you owe me a little,” Brooke Lynn whined as she padded behind Katya, who was pacing back and forth in the studio. This back and forth had been going on for nearly twenty minutes at that point, but she was fairly certain she was wearing her down.

Katya sighed and came to a halt, nearly making Brooke Lynn crash into her. “Fine. But you’re not allowed to complain about the dinner fiasco anymore,” she paused to think. “Come by my apartment tomorrow morning. But I swear, if you fuck up my car—”

“I couldn’t possibly treat it any worse than you do,” Brooke retorted before perking up. “Thank you!” she hugged her tightly and ran right back out the door. While she had a car back in Canada, there was no reason for her to bring it down to the city. At least, she never thought there was a reason until she found herself in need of a ride to take a pretty Latina on a scenic date out on Long Island.

Brooke Lynn went right from the studio to Vanessa’s dorm, knocking excitedly on the door and hardly waiting a second after she opened it. “Everything’s in place for tomorrow. It’s gonna be great,” she let herself in to the dorm and sat on Vanessa’s bed. “You’re going to have so much fun, I promise,” she regretted saying that the instant it came out of her mouth, though, afraid that she had just jinxed things and unleashed a horrible chain of events to follow. Not that she would ever announce that fear.

Vanessa sat down on Brooke’s lap, twirling her hair around her fingers and placing little kisses over her face. “You know you don’t gotta do nothing crazy for me, right?” she left a small hickey at the base of her jaw. “We don’t have to do anything, or wear anything…”

“There will be plenty of time for that too, I promise,” Brooke cooed, holding her head in place to kiss her properly. “Just let me do something cute for you, ya stubborn bitch, okay?” she let out a jokingly exasperated huff, then a surprised gasp when Vanessa pinned her down to the bed.

Vanessa lingered over her for a moment, then kissed her deeply. “I look forward to it.”

----------

The drive took Brooke Lynn and Vanessa a little over an hour and a half, lucking out with minimal traffic. However, it took Vanessa all of twenty minutes to doze off and sleep the rest of the way there, lucking out even further in avoiding any sharp turns, bumps, or potholes. Brooke Lynn didn’t mind either way, of course. She would steal glances at her sleeping girlfriend every now and then and find it adorable, and she almost hated to wake her when they arrived at the destination. “Vanjie, baby, we’re here,” she gently shook her awake.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Vanessa sat up, a bit disoriented. She blinked rapidly as she fully woke up, looking around. She saw rows and rows of trees surrounded by an expanse of fall foliage. As someone who only alternated between Manhattan and Florida, it wasn’t a sight she saw very often, nearly tripping over herself to get out of the car and take a picture. “Brooke Lynn! Get out here and look at this!”

Brooke Lynn giggled fondly as she got out of the car. “It’s a beautiful day out, isn’t it?” she wrapped her arm around Vanessa’s waist and kissed her cheek. “C’mon, we didn’t come all the way out here just to look at trees. We came to pick apples off them,” she hummed, leading her into the orchard, where she paid for a bag for each of them before looking around.

Vanessa tilted her head as she looked down the rows of trees. “How many different types of apples are there?” she asked with furrowed brows.

“The website said twenty-seven,” Brooke recalled as they began to walk down the rows. “I think we should get the ones that aren’t in grocery stores. Or even like, Whole Foods,” she mused, plucking an apple from a tree, something that was quite easy for her to do at her height.

“There is no way there are twenty-seven types of apples,” Vanessa muttered and shook her head, picking from one of the shorter trees. She was about to take a bite of one when her phone started to go off. “Oh, hold up, it’s my mom,” she answered cheerily.

Brooke watched as Vanessa spoke animatedly with her mom. She was speaking in Spanish for the most part, leaving her in the dark. She didn’t mind, in fact, one thing she had always loved about New York was hearing the various dialects people around her spoke in.

“No, todavía no he reservado mi vuelo, ¿por qué?” Vanessa scratched the back of her head, then her eyes widened. “¿Vienes aquí?” she still seemed confused but had perked up in excitement. Then there was a pause, hesitation in her tone. “¿Puedo traer a mi ... um, hay alguien que quiero que conozcas?” she winced but laughed. Her cheeks had a noticeable blush on them. “No hagas una gran cosa al respecto, por favor,” there was a soft sigh of relief, she seemed content. “Sí, yo también te quiero, adios,” she hung up and shoved her phone into her pocket.

“Is everything okay?” Brooke asked with a mouth half-full of apple. She could eavesdrop all she wanted; it didn’t clear up anything. She took French in high school and hardly remembered any of that either.

Vanessa smiled, but there was still an air of nervousness around her. “Normally I go down to see my mom over Thanksgiving, but she just told me she’s coming up, cause my auntie in Washington Heights decided to hold it this year. And since I figured you don’t celebrate it…I asked to bring you,” she glanced down, chewing on her lip.

Brooke felt a pang of nerves hit her as well. They had only just allowed themselves to consider what they had a real relationship, and now she was less than a month away from meeting the family. “Yeah, uh, I’ll just have to let my mom know. I’m sure she’ll understand,” she spoke as if she was still holding her breath but smiled warmly. “Alright, let’s get going, the traffic’s gonna be hell, and we need to find somewhere decent to stop and eat,” she shook off the unease and got back in the car with Vanessa. She wasn’t about to let anything interfere with their perfect date.

----------

“Has Brooke Lynn seemed a little…off to you lately?” Vanessa asked.

A’keria couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Girl, no one pays more attention to her than you. If anyone’s gonna notice any change, it’ll probably just be you,” she looked at her friend’s face fall and sigh. “Why does she seem ‘off’ to you?”

“She didn’t answer any of my texts yesterday til like, almost midnight, and when she did, she was just like, ‘oh sorry, I was busy’. Then in class she seemed super distracted and kept looking at her phone and shit. She just isn’t like that, you know?” Vanessa frowned, fumbling with the sleeves of her sweater.

Instead of sympathy, A’keria rolled her eyes again. “I’m not sure if this has occurred to you, but Brooke Lynn is an adult, she’s probably doing graduate work or paying bills or something like that,” she sat beside Vanessa and put a hand on top of hers. “Have you considered that you might be projecting a little after the whole thing with the ginger bitch?”

Vanessa crossed her arms. “I am not!” she looked down, thinking with knitted brows. “Or maybe I am, I don’t know…what should I do, then?”

“Wait it out, I’m sure it’ll be fine. And if not, talk to her and figure it out,” she shrugged. “In the meantime, get your ass together, we gotta go to work.”

Vanessa groaned and got up. Work had become so much of a chore as of late. The customers were no better or worse than usual, but her boss seemed to have developed a vendetta against her. Suddenly, she was getting shorter, worse hours, and she hadn’t pieced together why.

“He’s probably just mad ‘cause you threatened to call corporate after he grabbed your ass,” A’keria offered.

“Brooke Lynn taught me how to do that. That’s what happens when you date a white lady,” she beamed proudly, getting through the rest of her shift, doing her best to ignore the way her boss would give her a dirty look every time she glanced in that direction.

By the time her shift ended, however, Vanessa was tired and cranky. She just wanted to relax and get comfortable. And for her, that meant letting herself into Brooke Lynn’s apartment with the spare key she knew was left under the mat. “Brooooke?” no answer. “Brooke Lynn?” she could hear her voice from inside her room, and that pissed her off. “Really, bitch? You’re gonna cold shoulder me?” she stormed towards her room, only to stop in her tracks with a perplexed expression.

Brooke Lynn was sitting on the floor with a couple books in front of her. She had her phone sitting atop one of the books and had headphones in her ears. At first, it appeared that A’keria was right with her theory that she was doing course work, but then she continued talking to herself. “Quiero un vaso de agua por favor,” she repeated the phrase a couple more times, scribbling into a notebook.

Vanessa beamed, leaning against the door frame. Okay, maybe she had been a little paranoid, and maybe she had just ruined a surprised Brooke had been planning. But she didn’t need the anxiety of a surprise beyond this anyway, she decided. She quietly walked up behind her and kneeled down, carefully taking out her headphones and whispering “Quieres ayuda, mi amada?” in her ear and kissing her cheek.

Blushing fiercely, Brooke closed her books and set her phone aside. “You know, I told you about my spare key in case of emergency,” she murmured with a soft laugh. She turned to face Vanessa, accepting the kiss the other girl placed on her lips.

“I did have an emergency,” Vanessa defended. “I missed you and you weren’t answering my texts,” she pouted and sat across from her. “You’re teaching yourself Spanish?”

Brooke nodded, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. “I wanted to surprise you at Thanksgiving by introducing myself to your family in Spanish without sounding like a confused six-year-old,” she confessed softly.

“Well, you can still surprise her. My family probably won’t have the highest expectations…no offense,” Vanessa hummed. “I’m gonna help you though. We can make it fun, like a game,” she offered brightly. She tilted her head in thought for a moment. “I’ll give you words for you to translate, and if you get it right, I’ll take an article of clothing off, and if you get it wrong, you do,” she told her with a slight smirk.

“Sounds a lot more fun than answering to an animated green bird,” Brooke retorted with a laugh. “Alright, hit me.”

And so, they went back and forth. Vanessa would think of words off the top of her head and Brooke Lynn would translate them to varying degrees of success. After about ten minutes, Vanessa was still in her bra and panties while Brooke had lost every item of clothing. “You’re getting there,” she offered in consolation, though it was really a win-win as far as either of them were concerned.

“But I still need to learn the important things,” Brooke insisted, grinning at her confused expression before continuing. “Like, how do you say…’kiss me’?” she asked as innocently as she could muster. Vanessa rolled her eyes and giggled. “Besame.”

Brooke leaned forward and carded her fingers through Vanessa’s hair. “Besame, Vanessa,” she did her best to sound seductive and sultry, only using her proper first name because she felt it flowed better. She didn’t wait for a response, moving her hand to gently grasp her jaw and kissing her deeply. “Am I getting it yet?” she asked softly, resting their foreheads together.

“You a damn fast learner,” Vanessa chuckled. “And I can see why you like being a teacher so much,” she joked, kissing her again. “But, you know, even if you weren’t, I think they’d appreciate the effort. I know I sure do. I’ve dated white girls before, none of them ever gave a shit about learning. Always saying ‘oh I know enough from high school’ or some shit,” she remarked. “What I’m trying to say is, thank you for caring about me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Brooke shook her head. “The bare minimum you should expect out of a relationship is someone that cares about you. Otherwise, there’s no point, that’s not a relationship worth having,” she took Vanessa onto her lap. “Now…” her expression changed into a smirk. “let me show you how much I care,” she picked her up and placed her on the bed, “and spell out all of those vocabulary words with my tongue,” she slid off her underwear as she spoke.

Vanessa smirked, propping a pillow up under her head. “Damn, you nasty too. I really hit the fucking jackpot,” she hummed, tossing her bra aside as well.

Brooke kissed Vanessa and gazed into her eyes. “You really haven’t been treated like you deserve,” she frowned for a moment, then kissed down her torso before her head ducked between her thighs. While not actually spelling out words with her tongue, she moved skillfully in ways she knew her girlfriend liked, never stopping or flinching as she moaned and writhed.

“Fuck, baby don’t stop, just like that,” Vanessa pleaded, ever the vocal one – something Brooke Lynn had found to be as unsurprising as it was enjoyable. She hardly took a moment to breathe until she was fully spent and laying sprawled across the bed in a post-orgasm bliss. “Mm, have I ever told you how good you are at that?”

“I’ve had a hunch,” she replied with a smug grin, coming back up to kiss her sweetly. “Now get some rest, you’ve worked so hard as a teacher today,” she cooed and lay beside her.

[darks-ink]

For @frandajo, happy Christmas Truce! You asked for either Danny in Christmas clothes, or the Trio hanging out, so of course I wrote them having an ugly sweater contest. Hope you like it!

Also on AO3 and FFN.

(also this is the winning sweater... I was googling for ugly sweaters as reference and I couldn’t not use it)

The soft chiming of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Sam groaned, but heaved herself out of her chair nonetheless. Her parents were somewhere in the house, and she had to get to the door before them to let her friends in. It was probably only Tucker, since Danny usually took a more... discreet route to avoid her parents, but she would rather not risk it.

Pulling open the door, she was indeed greeted by the sight of only one of her male friends. It wasn’t the one she had expected, however.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but stepped aside to let him in. Danny smiled, warmly, and entered.

“Thanks, Sam. Tucker is running a little late, said that I should go ahead.”

“Yeah? What, he couldn’t find his entry for our sweater contest or something?” she huffed, but closed the door and started leading Danny towards her room. “Speaking of which, please tell me that you only just put that on.”

He flashed her a grin, winking exaggeratedly. “Nope! I’ve been wearing this all day.”

“You’re joking.” She paused in the opening of her door to look at him. “What did your parents think?”

He barked out a laugh. “Well, they’re disappointed that I own this sweater, but they calmed down a little when I mentioned that I bought it for our ‘ugly Christmas sweater’ contest. Jazz is stuck somewhere between thinking it’s hilarious, and thinking it’s awful.”

“Yeah? How come?” Sam asked, dropping back into the chair she had sat on earlier. Danny fell into a different chair, stretching out like a cat.

“She thinks the sweater is great, of course. I mean, she loves this kind of stuff. She hates how oblivious our parents are, though.” He shrugged. “Well, that, and she doesn’t like that they hated it because it’s associated with Phantom.”

Before Sam could respond, however, the doorbell rang again. Danny scrambled up to answer, but she shoved him back into the chair as she passed him. “Sit down, I’ll get it.”

Moments later she entered the room again, Tucker trailing behind her. Danny barely stifled a snort at his sweater, instead producing a bizarre half-choking sound.

“Dude, you okay?”“Danny, what the heck?” Sam and Tucker asked, simultaneously. Danny waved off his concerned friends, catching his breath again before answering.

“Yeah, fine. Just… Tucker, where did you even get that?”

The teen in question grinned, straightening up and splaying his hands next to his chest, showing off his sweater to the best effect.

The sweater itself was quite possibly the weirdest clothing item that Danny had ever witnessed. And considering that his parents wear brightly colored jumpsuits 24/7, that was quite an achievement. It was primarily red, with fairly standard Christmas-sweater patterning in green and yellow across most of the body and sleeves. There were two broad strokes, however, where the generic patterning was instead replaced with pictures of green dinosaurs and light green snowflakes.

The thing that stood out most, however, was the plush dinosaur that stuck out from the center of Tucker’s chest. It was some kind of generic green dinosaur, with pointy teeth stitched on and small arms barely poking out.

It was also, quite undeniably, attached to the sweater itself.

Seeing that his audience had been stunned beyond words, Tucker’s grin broadened.

“Isn’t it fantastic? The moment I saw it online, I knew I had to buy it. And you haven’t even seen the best part yet!”

“There’s more?” Sam hissed, incredulous.

Impossibly, Tucker’s smile widened even further, and he turned around. The back of his sweater followed the same patterns as the front. Red, with green and yellow. And, of course, the back half of the plush dinosaur, pointedly sticking out of Tucker’s back. The legs were so long that they reached his lower back, and the tail was almost as long as Tucker’s arm.

Now, Danny didn’t even try to stifle his laughter. Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he laughed, curling in on himself, and he could hear Sam cracking up as well. Tucker just stood there smiling, having turned back around.

When finally their laughter subsided, Sam pushed herself upright.

“Well Tucker, I think you’ve just won.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, as he straightened himself out as well, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought I had a pretty good sweater too, but it’s got nothing compared to yours.”

“Ah, come on.” Tucker flapped a hand at them. “At least show me yours before you declare me the winner.”

Sam rolled her eyes, but pushed herself out of her chair nonetheless. Her sweater suited her well, but it wasn��t particularly Christmas-themed, nor was it very funny. It was primarily black, with purple detailing. The patterns were mostly shaped like spiders, with the occasional spider-webs thrown in.

“Lemme guess, Skulk and Lurk?” Tucker questioned, plopping down into the only unclaimed chair in the room.

“Yep,” Sam confirmed as she sat down again. “I saw this really bad one that I considered buying, but I didn’t want to risk my mom finding it.”

“Really? How bad was it?” Danny quirked an eyebrow at her. Sam was incredibly competitive, it wasn’t like her to throw away a possible win over something minor like her parents’ disapproval.

“It was terrible.” She shifted a little to look at her friends as she spoke. “Bright pink, with unicorns and rainbows and everything. But you know my mom, if she found it, and she would have if I had bought it, she would have never shut up about it.”

“Ooh, that’s a shame. You might’ve had a shot with the sheer shock factor of seeing you in something that girly.” Tucker shrugged, however, and smiled at Danny. “And what about you, ghost boy? Because you’ve been covering your sweater pretty much this entire time, and I wanna see it real bad.”

“Well...” Danny said as he tapped into his ghost powers, floating himself upright so he could keep his arms folded across his chest. He winked at Sam before theatrically throwing his hands aside to reveal the sweater, puffing out his chest as well. “Tah-dah!”

His sweater, like Sam’s, was primarily black. The detailing, however, was a snowy white. The patterns were generic scribbles, with the occasional ghost thrown in. The big winner, however, was the Danny Phantom logo set right in the center of Danny’s chest.

“Please tell me you’ve worn that in your house,” Tucker whispered, a hint of awe tinting his voice. Danny merely grinned in response. “Dude, you did not. What did your folks think?”

Danny shrugged, settling back into his seat. “They hated my apparent support of Phantom, but they were okay with it when I told them I bought it for our contest.”

“Really, that’s it? No one connected the dots?”

“Nope.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Jazz is convinced that there’s some kind of psychological thing going on, where they’re ignoring the obvious evidence because they don’t want to believe it. Or something like that.”

“It’s Jazz,” Sam pointed out. “She blames just about everything on psychological problems.”

Danny clicked his tongue. “Touché.”

“She might be onto something, though. You’ve certainly dropped enough hints around them.”

“Oh please,” Sam huffed. “Everyone in Amity is unobservant as heck. Pretty sure no one in this city will know unless Danny transforms right in front of them.”

“Which has happened before,” Danny chimed in. “Not that anyone but us remembers, but still.”

“That’s not what I was talking about-”

“Nope, shut up, we’re not talking about this today,” Danny interrupted, waving his hand in Tucker’s general direction. “I’m trying to make this my first actually enjoyable Christmas where nothing goes wrong, and we’re not jinxing it by talking about identity revealing.”

“Well, in that case-,” Tucker jiggled his eyebrows, making Sam crack up and drawing a snort from Danny, “-how about we talk about the sweater contest, which I most definitely won.”

“Yeah yeah, you’ve won alright. I don’t think we could have topped that monstrosity even if we knew you were bringing it.”

“I dunno...” Danny bit his lip, deep in thought. “I might’ve been able to find something in the Ghost Zone. If Christmas is such a big thing, with the truce and all, I bet they have some crazy sweaters too.”

“Dude, that’s definitely cheating.”

“No it isn’t! No one is stopping you from going into the Ghost Zone and getting a crazy ghost sweater!”

“Yeah, I agree with Danny,” Sam interjected. “Saying he can’t use the Ghost Portal to get a stupid sweater would be like forbidding me from using my money or you from using your mad computer skills. Especially since we could just steal the Specter Speeder to go ourselves.”

“Ugh,” Tucker groaned. “I guess so.”

“Cheer up Tuck!” Danny poked his friend in the shoulder, having rolled his chair over for that exact purpose. “At least you won this year.”

“And it’ll never happen again!” Sam joyfully added, grinning impishly.

“Jerks,” Tucker muttered, eyes crinkling with barely hidden joy.

Danny moved his chair away from Tucker again, pushing off of the floor to start spinning around. After mere moments he had build enough momentum that his friends were forced to stop looking, lest they grew sick.

“Why don’t we go watch a movie?” Sam asked, hoping to distract the boy so he would slow down again.

Tucker scoffed. “I’m not leaving the house, and definitely not for some crummy movie. Do you know how cold it is outside?”

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him. “We don’t have to leave the house to watch a movie. I don’t know if you remember my giant home cinema?”

“What kind of movie?” Danny cut in, still spinning at vomit-inducing speeds.

“I don’t know, some kind of seasonal movie?”

“No,” Danny rejected. Sam tried glaring at Danny, but he was going too fast to notice, and she was forced to give up.

Tucker hummed. “A horror movie set during Christmas, then?”

“No.”

Sam snorted. “How about you provide us with a brilliant suggestion, then?”

Danny stopped, sudden enough to give a normal person whiplash. For a half-ghost who was used to getting thrown into buildings at several dozen miles an hour, however, it was nothing noteworthy.

“I dunno. Wasn’t there some new Femalien movie, or something?”

“Coming out next month.”

“Ugh, really?” Danny grumbled, flopping over the side of the chair. “I thought one came out a few months ago.”

“Nah. I think all this ghost hunting is screwing with your brain, dude.”

“How about,” Sam completely ignored the two bickering teens, “that new ghost hunting show everyone’s been going nuts about? It’s getting really good reviews outside of Amity, and according to the people at Skulk and Lurk it’s hilariously inaccurate.”

Danny rolled over onto the other side of the chair, fixing Sam with a contemplative gaze. Eventually he shrugged. “Yeah, sure, let’s go with that.”

“I agree!” Tucker called, apparently feeling ignored. “Let’s get down to the basement!”

With a gracefulness that most people don’t associate with Danny Fenton, the boy rolled out of his chair, landing perfectly on his feet. “Alright, let’s go!”

“Jeez, no need to be so hyper about it. We’ve got all day to chill out, remember?” Sam rolled her eyes, exasperated but fondly.

“Yeah dude,” Tucker said as he climbed to his feet as well. “No parents, no ghosts. Just us, hanging out.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s just go enjoy ourselves, then.”

“Amen to that!”

[meliecho]

Kimi no na Wa fluff needed! Taki and Mitsuha's actual first date! Disaster or success?

((Ok, for this one, I recommend listening to this on repeat.  Katawaredoki))

MUSUBI

He knew her name.  

Somehow, in that fateful moment on the stairs, she knew his as well.  But she didn’t know Taki Tachibana at all.  Or at least that’s what she thought when she walked home wrapped in a blanket of weightless fluff. Its origin confused her. Of course she didn’t know him, but at the same time, his voice, dark blue eyes, smile, physique, even the way he stood with is weight shifted slightly to his right foot were among the most familiar pieces in her life.  

Mitsuha Miyamizu made it back to her apartment, dropped her keys on the table, and flopped face down onto her bed. 

“Taki,” she mulled his name over and over.  “How do I know you?”

He’d summoned up the courage to ask her to coffee at a local cafe tomorrow.  She’d answered ‘yes’ with tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. If he’d asked her to fly to the moon, she would have agreed without hesitation in the same way –anything to keep his face always in sight, to never lose him again.

Again… 

She sat up and pressed her hand to her heart.  Had she lost him before? 

Her fingers curled into the fabric at the lingering sense from their meeting.  For the first time in eight long, difficult years, after holding her breath for an eon, she felt like she could finally exhale.  She fell back to her pillow with a wistful smile. What an amazing feeling. 

Her eyes suddenly shot open.  

“What on earth am I going to wear?!”

* * * *

The small bell attached to the cafe’s glass front door tinkled when she entered.

They’d agreed to meet around 10am. She’d taken the day off from work specifically for this reason, and told her boss that it was a personal matter. Since she’d been employed at his company for five years, she’d gained his trust a while ago, so she was granted as much time as needed without any problems. It was a relaxed office anyway –the kind where she could work in jeans and kick her shoes off.

Mitsuha scanned the room.  He wasn’t here yet.  She checked her phone for the time.  It was only ten minutes ‘till. Of course he wasn’t here, he still had time.  He wasn’t as retentive about scheduling as she was.  She chuckled softly, though paused.  It wasn’t right to make assumptions about people.  

“Hi.” 

She squeaked in shock at the sudden voice from nowhere and spun, nearly dropping her phone.  

“Sorry,” Taki apologized. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“I wasn’t scared,” she immediately defended out of natural habit.  “You just caught me off guard.” 

He smiled.  “Ok. Sorry anyway.”  He glanced around for an open table and found one near one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows curving around the dining area. “There’s a table over there.”  

They moved through the sparse morning crowd, making them feel like they were the only ones, and took their seats.  

Mitsuha peered at the menu with blinders on and tucked her index fingernail between her teeth. It was a habit she’d gained in her second year of high school for some odd reason, and never dropped it. She knew she should let it go, however it was soothing. She didn’t want to.

She was too nervous to think straight, so went with her usual order to keep things simple.  Her eyes drifted up to the man across the table, who’d taken on an identical studious pose over his own menu. They mirrored each other perfectly.  A slight giggle left her before she could stop it.  

Taki glanced over the menu.  “Hm?  Is there a joke on this menu I missed?” 

“No. I just thought I was the only one who did that. No one else in my family, and none of my friends bite their nail. I don’t know where I picked it up.”

“Huh.  I’ve kinda always done this.” He shrugged, then realized he’d become too relaxed.  “If it’s bothering you, I’ll stop.” 

“It’s fine, It actually makes me feel less weird.” She sent him a disarming slight smile. 

 Taki didn’t know why he was examining the menu so closely.  He came here all the time.  He’ll just go for his usual. It’ll be easier that way.  “I’ll have a strawberry crepe.”

Her eyebrows lifted a little.  “Me, too.  With chocolate. It’s my favorite here.” 

“Same.  I come here all the time; normally for breakfast.” 

“I can never make it until after work. This place is on my way home. They have–”

“–the best coffee,” they both said simultaneously.  

It brought their conversation to a halt.  They stared at each other for a moment, unused to someone outside of family finishing their sentences.  

Taki was the first to break it.  “Jinx! You owe me a soda.”

“What? You can’t jinx me,” she defended, enjoying the mirth of their conversation, and the bite in their retort.  “We’re on a date, you nerd.  Jinxes have no effect.”

“You made that up.” 

“Oh really.  Ok, so how are you going to prove it?”  

“I…  Well, there’s…  it’s…” air hitched in his throat, then he resigned in a soft breath.  “Ok, you win this round.  I’ll get you next time.” 

“Good luck trying,” she laughed. 

He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.  Her laughter rang like golden bells in the twilight.  

The twilight…  Thinking of it brought another word to mind he hadn’t thought of in a long time: Katawaredoki. It was in a different dialect, and it wasn’t a word he heard on a normal basis, so how did he know it? 

Their food arrived.  Taki and Mitsuha enjoyed their breakfast strawberry crepes with small talk in between about each other’s lives.  

Time flew away from them, leaving them in their own bubble of frozen infinity.  

They left the cafe, chatting about their work, their families, and their crazy friends.  The whole while, Taki felt like he was hearing these stories from an old childhood companion.  

Their meandering took them to a Lord’s Garden a couple of blocks nearby –the same one Taki’s apartment looked out over. 

They walked along a manicured dirt path beside a pond where cranes drifted lazily along the sun-sparkled waters.  

“It’s odd, but,” Mitsuha began, “I feel like I’ve known you forever.” She paused under a cherry tree. Soft, pink blossoms drifted around them. 

“Yeah. Me, too,” he agreed. He wanted to tell her he felt more comfortable around her than he did around his closest family members and friends. There’s no way that should be possible with a total stranger.  Then again, Mitsuha wasn’t a stranger anymore.  He’d known her name the day they passed on the stairs, but had no way to explain how.  

She reached out her palm to catch any wayward petals in her palm. “I love cherry blossoms; The scents on the breeze, the feeling of life it gives off.  They’re ephemeral, but every year, they keep coming back no matter what.  They kind of remind me of home.”  

“Where’s home?” He asked. 

A breath of memory followed her answer. “Itomori.”

He blinked.  That was the name of the town he was obsessed with for a while in late high school for reasons that confused him and his friends.  The sketches remained tucked into an art book on his desk.  “You’re from there?  Wow.” 

“Yeah,” she whispered.  Her fist clenched. Why was she telling him this?  Things like this were not topics to be brought up on a first date.    

Her memories of the summer comet strike were hazy, and included a black-out point for nearly the entire day before the comet struck. She could understand being traumatized by the event that wiped her home off the map –the meteor’s ground zero was her family’s ancestral shrine, after all–but the events before hand of daily life, and the shrine’s matsuri should be normal. 

That night, she’d ‘woken up’ on the road covered in scratches, not knowing why she’d run down the mountain, or why she was crying. But what left her with the largest unanswered question of her life was the mystery of who left one simple phrase written in black marker on her right palm; ‘I love you.’ 

She opened her fingers again to stare at her clean hand, clearly imagining the quickly-scrawled handwriting once more. Instead of her own voice, however, the voice that echoed through her memory…was his.  

“Are you ok?”

She’d been caught daydreaming again. How embarrassing on a first date.  She nodded and smiled.  “I’m fine.  It’s getting late. I should head home.” 

“Wow, we’ve been out here all day. I completely lost track of time.”  He cringed.  “If you had anything else planned, I…”

“It’s fine.  I had today cleared.”  

They lingered silently in each other’s presence for a few moments. Neither wanted to back away from the other.  

Taki’s chest pained at the idea of going back home to his empty apartment. 

Mitshua’s desire to always keep his face in sight fought with her will power.  

“Hey,” Taki began.  “Can I…see you again?”

Mitsuha nodded.  “I’d like that.” 

He felt relieved.  The empty apartment awaiting him instantly became a stay-over location until he could be with her once more.  A idea flared to life. “How about tomorrow? There’s going to be a cherry blossom viewing here.  They hold it every year.” 

“I know.  I watch it from my balcony.”  She pointed to a nearby apartment building at the end of the street.  “I live over there.” 

His jaw dropped.  “You’re kidding.  I live about three blocks that way,” he thumbed in the opposite direction.  “So, between us is the cafe and park.”

“Weird,” she mumbled.  “But…convenient.”   

Mitsuha thought she chose to live here because it was a close bike ride to work, when in reality, she’d been drawn to this area, this park, and this cafe.  Every time she walked through it, she felt like she was approaching a calm in her personal storm without ever finding the source no matter how many times she wandered these garden paths. 

He stood before her now, the epicenter of that calm. 

“So,” he wheedled into the stillness, nervous about asking her on a second date, “how about noon? We can get lunch, and join up with some groups from there?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  “I’m off tomorrow.  Yeah. I’ll be at the cafe. Don’t be late, ok?” 

“I still have to get you for that dodged jinx.” 

They shared a light hearted moment, lingering even more as twilight waned. 

“Well…” 

“Well…”  Taki rubbed the back of his neck.  He’d dated before, and been nervous before, but with her –even with the level of comfort he felt–he didn’t know how to end this.  Honestly, he didn’t want it to end.  Taking the initiative, he lifted her small hand in his….. and froze.  

And image of her in a school uniform looking back at him from the mirror of a traditional-style room he didn’t recognized flashed through his mind.  

She slipped her hand away and stared at him.  His face surged forward from her memory looking back at her from the mirror of a tiny apartment bedroom.  Uneasy at what just happened, she slid her foot back.  “I… I gotta go.”

“Mitsuha…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Taki.  Don’t be late,” she repeated, and jogged down the path toward her building.  

The sun set. Twilight had ended.  

Taki could still feel the warmth of her skin against his own. He was confused by what he remembered, but given hope by it as well.  

Whatever he needed to do to ensure he could see her again day after day for as long as he drew breath, he would do. 

He would not lose Mitsuha Miyamizu again. 

——–

End.