#qued up to ten times okay thank

[atinylittlepain]

Part One

no outbreak!joel miller x f!oc

series playlist

joel miller masterlist

series masterlist

She's tired. He's tired. They're neurotic. They're in love. Something needs to change. They need to change.

word count | 4.5K

chapter content info | 18+ angst, discussions of pregnancy, people being WASPy, marital squabbles that become something more serious some of the time, but also real, persistent love

a/n | listen, don't look at me. not gonna lie, it feels good to be back in the ring and i'm excited to share this one with y'all. special thanks to @wannab-urs for beta-ing and for encouraging me along with this one - love ya, twin.

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He looks handsome and he’s getting on her nerves. She looks beautiful and he still doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this. She knows he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for her to go to this, but she thinks that’s bullshit, kid gloves that she doesn’t need from him, or from anyone for that matter. 

He could, but he doesn’t tell her that her left eye is twitching a little bit. Her left eye is twitching a little bit, she blinks hard every time she feels muscle starting to spasm, keeps her face turned away from him and toward the passenger side window. 

“What is it?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You keep sighing.” 

“I’m just tired.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“It’s been a long week.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I meant last week then.” 

“Are you taking those multivitamins I got you?” 

“Uh, yeah.”

“I checked the bottle this morning and the safety seal is still on it.” 

“Cass.”

“What?”

“I don’t think a multivitamin is going to be the thing that makes me feel less tired.”

“I hate it when you say my name like that.”

“Okay, how should I say it?”

“Nevermind.” 

“What?”

“It’s fine, okay? Let’s just drop it, I don’t want to start the day like this.” 

“We’re not starting the day like anything, we’re just having a conversation.”

“Joel, please, I’m not doing this with you right now.” And he asks it before he can think much about it, knee-jerk and maybe a little mean, did you take your pills this morning?  Right, going for the nuclear option this morning, she lets out a clipped sound that could be a laugh if it wasn’t so sharp and he wishes there were a way to pluck words out of the air and swallow them back down. And she knows that whatever she says to that is going to be a failure. If she gets angry, if she blows up, she’s crazy. If she informs him that she did, in fact, take her pills, then she’s a liar, because she did, in fact, not take her pills, so she’s even crazier, right. 

“You know, that’s a fucked thing to ask me.” Ring the bell because she’s won this round. He thinks about offering her an apology, a glance while they’re stopped at a red light that only affords him the slope of her cheek and her hair tucked behind her ear with the way her face is turned away from him. He sighs and it makes her shoulders hike up a little higher. 

There’s a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister when they pull up, and of course there is a spiral of pink balloons wrapped around the porch banister, she thinks, because Tommy and Maria are having a girl, and that’s lovely, and she is going to smile when she gets out of the car because of how lovely that is. Already thinking about what her face will have to do to make that smile happen while he parks at the end of the driveway because they’re a little late, always a little late these days. At least they have a clear and present escape route, he thinks. 

“Here, let me.” He does, stays still while she runs her fingers up behind the collar of his shirt to smooth it down, and she thinks that she’s not the only one trying to buy a little more time. Made it out of the car, but still standing in front of the car, he has always liked the feeling of her palms splayed over his chest, hums and thanks her for fixing his collar, leans in for a quick smacking thing of a kiss that she gives back to him all ease, and he thinks that maybe they’ll get to be normal today. 

“Remind me again what we got them?”

“Bottle warmer and a set of swaddling blankets.”

“What, they can’t use hot water from the tap like everyone else?” That gets him a clipped laugh from her, and he knows he’s bordering on something tender that could snap and snarl if he says any more, so he takes the laugh and leaves it at that. She laughs, feels stupid for the heat that thickens and closes in behind it and hides the flush from him by collecting the gifts from the trunk. Pastel pink and perfect wrapping paper with thin ribbon curled and bouncing. She briefly considers how it would feel to rip it all to pieces. But no, none of that, because this is Tommy and Maria, and she loves Tommy and Maria, really, she does, so happy for Tommy and Maria. Happy, happy, happy. 

Maria is the one who opens the door, all smiles, all round because she made it to the third trimester. He glances at Cass as they enter into the usual greetings and congratulations, leaning hugs and Tommy somewhere in the fray. Cassandra thinks she’s doing a good job of smiling but she can’t really feel her mouth, letting her lungs collapse a little when Tommy pulls her in for a quick squeeze, hey, Cassie, good to see you. And maybe it’s the lack of pills in her system but is he? Is it? Verging a little close to hostage negotiator territory? Talking to her like she’s a skittish horse? Because, apparently, it’s not just Joel, but the whole clan who seems to expect her to have a hard time with this. His and Tommy’s parents smile and pet at her shoulders when they see her, that same so good to see you, as if they didn’t just see her a month ago for the fourth of July barbecue, as if she’s the one who’s–

“I appreciate y’all being here, I know Maria does too.” Everyone in the backyard even though it’s already pushing eighty degrees, linen dresses and blue jeans and fluted glasses filled with orange juice and something a little stiffer. He squints at Tommy, nods, of course, lets his eyes drift out over mingling friends and family, settling on Cass. She’s smiling, mouth moving around easy words in a small cluster of women. Her arm is curled across her stomach, elbow held in hand, drink held aloft. She is doing fine, he thinks, good. And of course she’s doing fine, everything fine, and he’s fine too. Her eyes catch his and her smile stays, and he feels one of his own, there and gone. They are doing fine.

“Is Cass, you know, doing alright?”

“Oh yeah, she’s doing fine.”

She can feel sweat starting to collect along the waistband of her underwear, a cool, nauseous shiver, so terrible running beneath the skin. Someone, she can’t remember the name, a friend of Maria’s, is saying something about tits. Well, she doesn’t use the word tits, no, that word couldn’t come out of her baby pink painted lips. Breasts, and Cassandra curls her lips back into her mouth to stop herself from offering up mammary glands, if you want to be so proper about it, smiling and mmhmming instead about stretch marks and leakage and sore, seaming skin. Not that she’d know anything about it, not really. But all the other women do, something close to sharing war stories, all the space the body can make, and what remains when it’s empty once again. Now that, empty, she knows a thing or two about empty. 

“You hear from Sarah lately?” 

“You wanna know what I hear from her? Is mom there? And then can you put her on?” Tommy laughs, continuing to make quick work out of carving up another watermelon, pink, pink, pink while Joel enjoys a second to breathe in the air conditioned kitchen. Almost eleven, and they’re going to do cake at almost eleven, and he supposes he doesn’t really know what the etiquette is for things like these so sure, he thinks, cake at almost eleven.

“I guess dad’s advice can only work for so long, huh?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s a freshman in college, man, you don’t remember what we were like at that age?” 

“I’d rather not, thanks.” And the truth is he remembers very little of that time. Playing at boy king, at living forever, and then the flashbang burst and bloom, obliteration and letting the shrapnel boomerang back together when Sarah came. And then, he thinks, back out on the porch and squinting at the sun threaded through the branches of an elm tree, then, it was a sort of crawl in those first few years. 

What he remembers, very little eye contact from anyone, and wanting it more than anything. Never expecting the father to be the one to stay, the very young, very bleary-eyed father who eventually learned to stop looking for other eyes to meet his. Yes, a crawl, kept his head down until one day, two-year-old in tow in the grocery store, looking at pouches of pureed sweet potatoes and peaches, someone ducked her head down alongside his, looked him in the eye, and asked him if it was his wallet she found at the end of the aisle. For the record, it wasn’t his, but he can’t remember who it got returned to any more. That Tina Turner song was playing over the speakers, he remembers that. What’s love got to do with it, what’s love got to do with a HEB on a Wednesday night? Just enough for him to keep going to the HEB on Wednesday nights, hoping to run into the woman who looked him in the eye and told him his daughter was beautiful and had his smile.

“How many do you and Joel have, Cassandra?” Must have been smiling and nodding a little too well to get that question from Sally, Sammy? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. Maria needs better friends, she thinks, or maybe just less of them for her to keep track of. 

“Oh, just one. Sarah started college this year actually.” And the usual sequence of snobbery that follows her sharing that detail. Yes, had her very young, yes, must be so proud, and she is proud, she can mean that yes, at least. 

“But she’s not yours, is that right?”

“Excuse me?” Excuse you, Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are. Excuse you in your baby blue linen dress and your fuckass bob. Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is, eats her words fast, quick flickers of french tips and well, I just mean, not yours biologically, you know, I think Maria mentioned something about you adopting her when you and Joel got married. Said with that pitch that winches higher and higher with each word like a question going nowhere. She clasps her hands behind her back and digs her nails into the soft of her palms until the urge to throttle Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is passes.

“Yeah, well, she’s not mine in that way. But I’ve been in her life since she was two so, I think that matters a little more than if she slid out of my vagina.” Shit, slipped, should not have said that, gets a glossed gasp from the peanut gallery and she’s just glad Maria is off hostessing with other people right now, not bearing witness to the way she just slaughtered this conversation with the sharp of her words. Excuse her Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck you are, and excuse her, all the rest of you, she needs to get out of the heat, out of the sun, out of whatever this is. 

He knows what looks mean what by now. A pinched brow, a frown that’s just barely a frown. She breezes past the kitchen with one hand pressed high against her stomach as if to make sure the rise and fall is still happening. Says her name once and she waves a hand behind her, already halfway down the hall and not turning around now,  sorry, just need the bathroom. Tommy’s eyes do that thing, that softening, slipping thing, looking at him and not asking the question, though it hangs in the air somewhere between them. He excuses himself, walks slowly enough that the bathroom door is already shut and locked by the time he gets to it. The faucet is running, all he hears when he says her name again, feeling like a perfect fool knocking on the door. Not the first time this has happened, and she feels more foolish every time it does. But he’s already asked her if she’s taken her pills today so at the very least, that question is out of the way. Or maybe he’ll ask it again, and maybe she’ll break something, and then report back to her OB-GYN who, for some reason, is the one prescribing her these pills, and tell her OB-GYN that she’s getting crazier and needs more pills that she’ll forget to take. Repeat ad nauseam. No, she thinks, too tired for any of that, two years too tired. She presses her fingers into her temples and closed eyes until the throb in her skull begins to still.

“Do you want to go home?” He doesn’t know how to handle this, not really. Seems to get it wrong more often than not, and sometimes his own frustration turns into meanness that makes it worse, he knows that. He doesn’t know how to deal with her any more, she knows that. The truth is she doesn’t even know how to deal with herself any more, everything always raw and hurting, blistered brain and aching heart and wilting like a frail, flimsy thing. She does alright keeping it tamped down most of the time, keeping it cool and closed off. But, there are times when it flares, like a thin flume of disease nested somewhere deep inside of her. During things like these, around people like these, and the month of April, forget about it. 

“I said something a little awful, I think.” Sheepish, the door still only cracked, enough that he can see that she isn’t crying so, little lift of relief in his chest, at least. 

“What’s that?” He slips in through the half-opened door and she lets him, shuts the door behind him and tells him, may have snapped, may have used the word vagina. It’s a relief to hear him laugh, a single breath of it like he’s not sure if he should. He touches her hand, her wrist, her elbow, little pulse points, half a tired smile.

“There are worse words to use.”

“Could have said cunt.” She shrugs and you’d think he’d have gotten used to her surprising him like that after sixteen years together, but it’s still a giddy little shock to the system, her brass and brash. Like another vital sign, so long as she has her fang she’s fine, at least he thinks so.

“Yeah, that.” He laughs again, coughs, heat flushing down fast in his face and there’s a quick kick in her chest at the sight, something dormant getting stirred up. She likes that look, coaxing that look out of him. The first time, way out of line and out of place, she thinks. Fresh out of college and buying condoms and pretzel rods at the HEB down the block from her apartment and she shouldn’t have, pretty guy, man, father with pretty brown eyes and a little girl in the seat of his shopping cart with pretty brown eyes like his and she shouldn’t have. Thought she was so smooth, pretending like the wallet she showed him wasn’t hers, like she had found it on the linoleum floor, yeah, so smooth, just looking for a reason to shuffle down the baby food aisle and talk to pretty guy, man, father. That same flush, that same smile, little shock, though he had caught her too, taking a sharp glance down at her basket before she could tuck it behind her legs. And then her turn, little shock when he made some joke about little late for me, for that, shrug and smile and yes, she thinks, she didn’t exactly love him right then and there, but whatever comes right before love, it was that. 

“Listen, if it’s getting to be too much for you we can–” Wrong, all wrong, sound in the back of her throat like a scoff that’s how wrong those words were.

“Why does everyone seem to think this is too much for me? It’s a fucking baby shower, not a, I don’t even know what. I’m fine, it’s fine. It’s Tommy’s and Maria’s day and I’m so happy for them that they’re having a–” It catches her off guard, the way the sound gets stuck in her throat, not quite a sob, but verging on it, hiccuping out the rest, a baby. He reaches for her arm again but she jerks it away, hands clasping opposite elbows, all tucked in on herself. 

“It’s okay if it’s not fine, you know, nobody is expecting you to–”

“Nobody is expecting me to keep it together, right?”

“Would you let me finish speaking?” No, never winning any points for patience, ever. Not too many for thinking before he speaks either. Her face crumples for a breath, if that, smoothing back out with a scoff, I’m so sorry, Joel, what were you going to say? No, not normal, not today. He wonders briefly how long they’ve been in the bathroom now, and whether they’ve been speaking loudly enough to draw attention to the fact of how long they’ve been in the bathroom now.

“You know what, forget it. If you say you’re fine then I guess you’re fine. Can we just get through fucking cake and leave, please?” She’s very good at this, at turning herself off, something cool and distant slipping over her eyes, her face, shoulders rolled back sharp. Of course, she says, whatever you say, she says, doesn’t give him another glance as she opens the bathroom door. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t standing here long, just waiting to use the–” 

“Cunt.”

“I’m sorry?” 

“Cut– I had a cut and I needed Joel to look at it but I’m fine, right, Joel? Aren’t I fine?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer that, doesn’t give Sally, Sammy, whoever the fuck she is a chance to say any more either, already moving past both of them and back toward the sound of laughter and cake, fucking cake about to happen. 

He needs to keep his mouth shut, all he can figure. Keep his mouth shut and maybe, maybe, they’ll get through fucking cake without any more seams splitting. Nothing like this when Sarah came, no balloons, no perfectly frosted and tiered cake with a whole cluster of people around it, and he thinks briefly that maybe he’s the one who isn’t fine being here. Like an ache, or an absence, a place inside of him that has been scooped out and left empty. He doesn’t let himself get sad about it often, mostly because he’s too busy being angry about it with (at?) Cass. But he feels it now, a sinking, swimming feeling that weighs everything down, slow to smile when Maria hands him a plate with a slice of cake on it. 

She takes a plate and pushes around globs of pink icing with her fork for a while, standing in another cluster of people she doesn’t really know, one of the women commenting on how good she’s being when she sets her plate down on the kitchen counter, smile and laugh, though the truth is she’s not sure she could stomach pretty pink icing right now. A small mercy when Tommy steps over alongside her and effectively relieves her of having to continue pretending to be interested in a conversation about kitchen remodels. 

“Looking a little green, Cassie, you alright?”

“I think the heat got to me, but I’ll survive. Congratulations again, you guys are going to be great, really.” And she hopes he interprets the pitch, the little catch of her words as a good emotion that is entirely for him and his family. Not anything else, not anything that would be entirely ridiculous and well, crazy, on her part. 

“I just want to say thank you again for giving us all that furniture, and the clothes, we really–”

“Oh of course, Tom, you did us a favor taking all that stuff. It’s not like we were going to–” Going to what? She doesn’t finish that sentence, and Tommy doesn’t need her to, already nodding, already that look in his eyes that she has come to recognize as thinly-concealed pity. Not like they were ever going to have a use for that furniture, those clothes, not again, not after. A foreclosed room in their house that stayed as silent and shut up as a tomb, and then the happy, happy, happy news from Tommy and Maria and of course, they said, take whatever you want, take it all, actually. The room is empty now. The door stays closed. 

He wants to leave and he wants to leave now. The walls creeping in closer and that hollow thing in between his ribs starting to ache and twinge. He catches her eyes from across the room and it takes little else for a knowing to pass between them, both of them already moving, already starting a string of polite goodbyes, friends and family, sorry, yes, really have to go, it’s becoming hard to breathe, really have to go. 

Early in the afternoon and the sun so bright it makes him a little dizzy when they step outside. He follows the sound of her heels on the sidewalk back to the car, relief in the closing of the door, in settling into the driver’s seat. 

She feels like her brain is deflating in her skull. Enough normal for the day, don’t ask her for any more than that. She props her head in her hand and lets her eyes unfocus, turning the suburban streets they're driving through into pale blurs of minivans and basketball hoops. And there is little fanfare to what happens next, she glances at him once, then looks out the window, hears a metallic clink, and when she looks at him again, there’s a cigarette dangling from his lips. It’s so absurd, so out of nowhere, that she has to laugh. 

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t know. Tommy’s a bad influence.”

“Tommy quit.”

“Well then I did him a favor finishing off all his packs.”

“Joel.”

“Yes?”

“How did I miss you picking up smoking again?”

“It’s not like I do it around the house, I know you don’t like the smell.”

“Oh, but you’re happy to trap me in the car with it?” 

“The windows are down.”

“Secondhand smoke.”

“Would you prefer to get out at the next red light?” 

“You know, you’re probably gonna die before me. Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m serious. Statistically speaking, men die first–”

“I wonder why.”

“Cardiac events.”

“That tracks.” 

“You’re already two years older than me and now you’re doing shit like this and I’m probably gonna be like, sixty-eight and a widow, and then I’ll die of stress from being a sixty-eight-year-old widow.” 

“Are you done?” 

“Oh fuck you–”

“Hey.”

“No, what next, huh? Are you gonna ask me if I took my pills again?”

“Well, did you?” 

“That’s not the point.”

“Jesus Christ, Cass, it’s like you don’t even want to get better, you don’t even try.” Silence, she doesn’t fire back, doesn’t make a sound, her lips parted around a wordless frown. The only noise is the turn signal clicking as he pulls into a gas station, his heart sunk down low in his chest, shrinking back in on itself. Too far, too mean, and not even knowing what he was saying until he said it, until she was looking at him in a devastated crumple. 

He parks beside a pump but doesn’t get out, doesn’t move at all, really. Waiting. For what, he isn’t sure. When he looks at her again, that stricken look is gone, something slackening, something tired settled in its place. 

“Do you remember when you stopped shaving and you asked me if your beard looked stupid and I told you it didn’t?” 

“Uh, yes.” 

“I lied. Your beard does look stupid.” And with that, she’s out of her seat, out of the car, and clipping fast toward the convenience store, not sparing him another look. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. 

The light flickers a little in the convenience store bathroom when she flips it on, locking the door behind her just as the first sob shudders up and out of her throat. She doesn’t look in the mirror, she has no use for that, just grips the edge of the sink and allows herself this, a few minutes to get the worst of it out. 

He had finished pumping gas ten minutes ago when she comes back out with a bottle of snapple lemonade tucked under her arm. She has been crying, he can see. He doesn’t know why she always hides it from him. It catches him off guard when she walks around the front of the car to stand in front of his rolled-down window, something bordering on sheepish in the set of her expression, her eyes doing a quick loop from her feet back up to him.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think your beard is stupid.”

“Okay.”

“I like it, think you look handsome with it.”

“Honey, will you get in the car, please?” She does, offers him the bottle of lemonade and they both take a swig, waiting for whatever words are supposed to come next. A car honks at them, still at the pump, and he has enough sense to wave an apology behind his head and pull over into a parking spot instead.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Cass? That was a stupid thing for me to say. I didn’t mean that.” She wants to say no, not a stupid thing to say, not unfair, not really. But that would be an admission she doesn’t want to make, so she nods, accepts his apology, both of them having a hard time looking at the other, suddenly so interested in the brick wall of the convenience store. 

“We can’t keep doing this.” She doesn’t realize how much she means that until she’s done saying it. Finally saying it, this truth they have been scrapping and snapping around for months now. He says, no, we can’t, and she braces for impact, anticipating the worst, the nuclear option, and she wouldn’t blame him for it. But that blow doesn’t come. He takes her hand over the center console, as simple as anything, and she is reminded again of how much she loves him. 

“Something has to change.”

“I think so.”

“We can figure this out, can’t we?”

“It’s us.” As if that’s an answer, though he still nods, repeats it back to her, it’s us. It’s them. They can’t keep doing this. They have to change. They can figure this out, can’t they?

[jaehyunnie77]

surprise birthday gift

summary: gifting your husband the best valentines and birthday present ever.

pairing: jaehyun x f. reader

genre: pure filthy smut | fxmxf

warnings: pet names (babe/baby), threesome, nipple play, sub reader, oral (male recieving), deepthroating, facial, cum eating, hint of oral (female recieving)

wc: 3.3k

a/n: based off of this request! first time ever writing something like this and ... damn. there was no reason for my mind to go this deep - no pun intended lmao. thank you anon for requesting! not edited lol. happy birthday to our valentine boy ❤ and happy valentines!

--

Valentine’s Day is a special day for both you and Jaehyun, your husband, of six years. Besides the national showering of love, confessions to crushes, love making day, or even heartbreak, it is also his birthday. Which makes the date and holiday ten times better. Usually, you both would spend the day together being low-key and maybe going out on the town for dinner and drinks.

This year however, you made other plans. Plans you don’t really do but nonetheless want to surprise him.

Though you’ve been married for six years, you’ve been together for way longer than that. Ten years to be exact. You both met in one of your freshman courses in college and hit it off. You trust each other with your entire being and cliché as it sounds, he is your best friend and vice versa. You both confide in each other about your insecurities, secrets, and fantasies, which is how you thought of the surprise gift for him.

Just a week before Valentine’s Day, you were both laying down in bed watching a random movie when he asks you about your kinks and fantasies.

“Hmm, I can’t think of anything right now.” you shyly say.

“Baby, it’s just me you can tell me.” he laughs at how cute and flustered you are.

“I know, but I really can’t think of anything. We’ve pretty much done everything I can think of.” you laugh as memories of the many hot and steamy sex you’ve both had flashes in your mind. 

“Oh really. Please do remind me.” he teases knowing where this is going.

“Well for starters of all starters, fucking in the bathroom in the middle of a college party was always on my bucket list. Car sex out in the middle of the woods when we went camping the first time. A quickie in the upstairs bathroom when we met our parents for the first and they were downstairs –“

“That one was funny, they kept asking you if you were alright.” He chimes in.

“Oh! That one date night when we went to that popular restaurant we’ve been wanting to go to and we were so horny, we ended up having sex in the back of the alley. Hmm, oh! When I wore those vibrator panties when we had dinner with your boss and his wife.”

“Okay that one was a fun night.” Jaehyun laughs at the memory of you squirming in your seat and trying hard not to moan as you kept crossing your legs.

“Yeah and plain torture for me when I was coming five times in a row.” You smack him playfully on the shoulder. “Meany. Anyways, um we did a bit BDSM and role playing after watching Fifty Shades of Grey. When we went to New York for the weekend and had sex in front of the large window in our hotel room when we were like 500 feet in the air. And lastly, we’ve had sex toys in play.”

“Damn, we’ve done a lot. I truly do appreciate and love you, you know.” He says as his mind replays all of your sex adventures and all those trials and errors. He’s trying hard not get a hard dick, but how can he not when you’re the best and amazing person he’s ever had sex with, and better yet, the woman he loves.

You can tell by the way he shifts that he’s trying to be more comfortable when you can clearly see the imprint of his meat on his pajama pants.

“What about you sir? Any other kinks and fantasies we haven’t done yet?”

He’s silent for a second trying to come up with a way to answer your question without giving you the wrong idea. “Um, I’ve always thought about a threesome –“

“Oh! Me too, not going to me –“

“But with you and another girl.” He says quietly as he looks at you. He studies your face to see if there is any negative reaction from you. You think about it for a second more before smiling at him.

“That’s not a bad idea. I mean I know I’m team dick all the way, but I have always wondered what it’d be like to be with another woman.”

“Hmm. Interesting. Please do tell me more.” Jaehyun kisses you on the cheek before getting on top of you and littering kisses all over your face. The movie is long forgotten as both of your minds are filled with only pleasuring each other for the remainder of the night.

Two days before Valentine’s Day, you had the perfect birthday gift for Jaehyun. Yes, you are going to fulfill his fantasy and grant him a threesome with someone you both know and trust. Sure, you could have called an escort or so, but you watch too many movies and the outcome in those aren’t good. Besides, this friend of yours is an expert in these kind of kinks.

When you bought up the conversation you and Jaehyun had to your friend Ana, you kept going over the pros and cons of a threesome with another female.

“It’s not that I’m insecure or afraid that he’ll love it so much and cheat on me, but I just never done anything like this before. I mean three is a crowd already.” You tell Ana your concerns.

“First timers are always scared and nervous, but once you’re in the act of doing it all, that’s the last thing on your mind.” She says slurping on her ice.

“I guess I just don’t want to look like I lack in the sex department.” you laugh out loud.

“Y/N, take it from someone who is wild and loves sex and practice safe sex, no one really cares if you know how to give the best blowjob or not as long as you’re having fun. Personally, being with three people is super fun. You get to take turns and bring out a whole different side you never thought was there. Then again, I don’t intend to settle down.”

Remembering why you asked her for a quick catch up, you swallow thickly and hope this doesn’t make anything awkward after asking her this. “You trust me right?”

Ana nods her head in response.

“And I trust you and we’ve known each other since practically middle school, and again I trust you –“

“What are you trying to say Y/N?” Ana says intrigued that she’s never seen you stumble over your words before let alone how nervous you seem.

“I- I was wondering if you wanted to help me and surprise Jaehyun for his birthday and gift him a threesome.” You shyly look away as you internally cringe. There could have been a better way to word that.

Ana stares at you because you’re acting as if this is your first time ever having sex. She chuckles a bit to help ease your nerves. “For starters, I’m super delighted you trust me and I’m even more honored you asked me. Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. Honestly, I’ve always been curious what it would be like as I’ve told you before.”

“Okay then. I trust you and if you were ever feel uncomfortable or want to call it off, just let me know. I will completely understand.” She says before sealing the deal on your surprise gift.

Valentine’s Day is finally here and you have both the butterflies and anxiety running around.

“He’s going to be home in five minutes.” You tell Ana on video call as she gets ready in her bathroom. Luckily, she doesn’t live too far from you.

“Remember to relax Y/N.” She tells you after seeing how nervous you are.

“I know I know. Okay, so we’ll grab dinner and I’ll text you when we are on our way back home.”

Ana just chuckles, “Sounds like the plan. I’ll see you soon and have a lovely dinner.”

You breathe in heavily and exhale all the nerves your body. You look around your living feeling proud of yourself. You outdid yourself by placing rose petals on the floor and hanging up balloons for this special day. You even have a box of chocolates in the middle of your dining table.

When the door finally opens and in comes your hot husband, you burst with excitement for what’s in store.

“Hi honey. Happy birthday.” You give Jaehyun a kiss as he stumbled back a little. When you part, he can see there’s something different about you tonight. It’s probably just the day today, but you look extra and really beautiful tonight. That’s when he realizes the balloons hanging and the rose petals and slow soft R&B playing in the background.

“Wow babe. You’ve outdone yourself this time. Thank you. Truly.” His eyes turns into crescents when he smiles at you.

“Thank you. Now go get ready before we head to our reservations.”

After grabbing dinner and having a splendid meal, you both head back home. You quickly sneak a text to Ana to let her know you were on your way. Twenty minutes later, you pull up to your cozy condo and get slightly nervous again. It wasn’t until you see Ana and relax just a bit.

“Oh hey Ana. Nice to see you here.” Jaehyun says surprise to see your friend on your doorstep this late in the night.

Ana smiles sweetly at him, “Happy birthday and happy valentine’s day. I know it’s late, but I was wondering if I could borrow that one dress Y/N? The one you showed me a couple of days ago.”

“Oh right! You have that date tonight don’t you. So sorry we came home late, but yes!”

Seriously, you both should win best actress or some shit because you said that without stuttering.

Jaehyun unlocks the door and you and Ana walk into your cozy home. You lead Ana towards your bedroom as Jaehyun heads over to the couch and finally relaxes.

When you come back out two minutes later, you gather your courage and sit next to Jaehyun.

“I have a present for you.”

“Oh babe you didn’t have to. Seriously, you being in my life is the best present I’ve ever received.”

“You still know how to make my heart skip a beat.” He leans in to give you a chaste kiss.

“So you agree that you’re my present?” he teasingly asks.

“I have to give you your actual present first before we get to that. You deserve something rewarding for being the best husband in the world. Now, close your eyes.”

He smirks at that last sentence, “Kinky are we?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Jae please. Just do it.”

“Fine, fine. Closing my eyes now.”

He does as he’s told as Ana quietly peaks her head out of your bedroom and walk towards you. You stand up next to her as you try easing your nerves.

YOLO you thought to yourself.

“Open your eyes Jae.” He opens his brown eyes and is confused to see Ana standing next to you.

“Um? Okay?”

“Your lovely wife here thought we would surprise you for your birthday this year by doing something you both would like to experience together.”

Still not understanding Ana, he looks at you for help. “What is she talking about?”

“Well you know how we talked about fantasies and such? Well I thought I’d do just that for your special day.”

Jaehyun thinks he knows what you’re talking about, but it wasn’t until it was confirmed when Ana stands behind you and starts touching. She pushes your hair to one side and kiss your neck tenderly, her hands roaming around your chest and landing to massage your breasts. As she does this, you make eye contact with Jaehyun communicating through your eyes somehow.

Ana takes off your jacket and unzips your dress. When the dress falls around your feet leaving you only in your bra and underwear, Jaehyun’s jaw tightens. He wishes he could touch you at this very minute, but he was so hypnotize from what’s happening in front of him.

Ana turns you to face her and tells you to relax with a comforting smile. She brings her face closer to you and kisses you gently before tongues were in the mix. You can taste her cherry chaptick on your lips as she brings your bodies closer together becoming one. You get lost in the moment as you start to enjoy kissing your friend and soon your hands have a mind of their own. You take off her jacket and tug at her shirt to pull it off. She trails kisses down your jaw to your chest and you look at your husband who now has a full hard on.

You lightly moan when Ana teases your nipple over your bra and Jaehyun’s eyes follow her every move on you.

“Jaehyun, do you like what you see?” she asks breathlessly.

“This is so fucking hot.” He immediately responds.

Ana unhooks your bra before turning you to face Jaehyun as she begins to suck on your hard nipple and her hand massages the other. She lets go with a loud pop and looks at Jaehyun, “She’s so sensitive isn’t she?”

All he could do was nod at her statement before she repeats her actions to the other breast. The feeling of her tongue and the look on your husband’s face, you swear you could cum right there. Ana once again lets go with a loud pop before sitting down next to Jaehyun in only her bra and panties.

“Y/N, I want you to get on your knees in front of your man.” Ana demands.

You do as you’re told and sit there waiting for your next action. Ana gets closer to Jaehyun’s ear and whispers, “She’s such a good submission isn’t she.”

“You have no idea.” He responds back as his hooded eyes stays on you.

“Undo his pants slowly.” Ana continues.

You undo his pants slowly making sure your hand brushes over his hard length. Your mouth waters just by the fleeting touch and can’t wait to have a taste of it.

“Take off his boxers slowly like a good girl.” Once you do that and his cock is exposed she tells you, “Now, give his big cock kisses it deserves.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You grab his heavy and beautiful cock and give it kisses up and down his shaft. You hear Jaehyun breathe deeply and you know he’s trying to control himself and not let the beast out just yet. Ana begins to give him kisses along his face down to his collarbone. She tugs at the end of his shirt for him to take it off and he does. Once that is off, she continues to kiss his abs down to his happy trail until she is kneeling next to you.

Jaehyun’s hand has a mind of its own as they both hold onto each of you.

“Put him in your mouth now.” Ana says lustfully.

You slowly put him in your mouth feeling every ridge of vein as he goes further down your throat. Jaehyun whispers a low fuck in the process knowing how much he loves it when you suck him off slowly like this. What he didn’t expect was for Ana to hold your head down while you deep throat him causing tears to form in your eyes as you make eye contact with him. He couldn’t help but buck his hips into your mouth loving the sensation of your warm mouth and the sound of you gagging around his cock. .

What he also didn’t expect was once you come up for air, you offer Ana to have a taste.

“Are you sure Y/N?” both he and Ana ask at the same time.

You’re too horny to think about anything and just nod your head.

Ana slowly puts him in her mouth as she slowly begins to bob her head.

Jaehyun couldn’t believe this was happening to him right at this very second.

While she was busy doing that, you come up to Jaehyun to kiss his neck as you both watch Ana suck on his dick. You swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever encountered. Jaehyun turns your attention back to him as he kisses you deeply and one hand massages your breast. Getting an idea pop into your head, you break the kiss and go back to sit next to Ana.

While she sucks his dick, you massage his balls and that action itself makes Jaehyun rolls his eyes to the back of his head in ecstasy. You suck on his balls lightly before teasing him again. Ana chuckles when she notices what you’re doing sending the vibrations straight to Jaehyun’s spine.

She comes up for air and grabs your head to bring it back to her and kiss you. Jaehyun opens his hooded eyes in time to see your tongues playing with each other. As if you both have the same mindset, you both bring your faces in front of his angry cock and tease it with your tongues on both sides of his length. You both get into the same rhythm of going up and down his shaft with your tongues and meeting at his tip to exchange saliva and kiss each other with tip in both of your mouths.

“Fuck this is so fucking sexy.” He breathlessly says.   

You smile love knowing that he loves it as Ana signals you to repeat the motion. After a few more, you put him back in your throat for him to fuck your throat as Ana sucks on his sack. Jaehyun couldn’t handle it anymore. He was a moaning mess and bucking his hips more rapidly into your mouth.

“Fuck I’m going to cum. Fuck fuck fuck.” You feel his cock twitch and you pull off his dick as Ana joins you in waiting for his warm cum to hit your faces. A second later, he finally releases his long and warm load on your tongues and faces.

Once he comes back from the heavens, you look at Ana and quietly start laughing. You really can’t believe you three just did that. Still being a newbie at this, you didn’t expect Ana to grab the back of your head to bring it closer to her face as she sticks out her tongue into your mouth as you both share and mix Jaehyun’s come.

Seriously, he is the luckiest man alive because even though he just busted a load, he is getting harder again just watching you make out with a girl and sharing his come.

“This is the best birthday gift ever.” He says lowly enough for you to hear him and you break away swallowing his load and giggling.

You begin to get up to go get cleaned up, but both he and Ana grab onto your wrist preventing you from going anywhere.

“Where are you going?” he asks teasingly.

“To get cleaned up?” you say unsure, but all Jaehyun does is shake his head as he makes eye contact with Ana. Something in that look communicated with one another as they both had the same idea in mind.

“We’re not finished though.” Ana says gleefully as she begins to tug on your wrist.

“We-we’re not?” you swallow thickly knowing full well what they meant.

“We’re just getting started baby.” Jaehyun says as his other hand pats the seat next to him on the couch. You get up from your knees to sit next to him as Ana kneels closer to you and begin to tease your skin. You could feel your wetness gushing out of your aching core.

Jaehyun gently grabs your chin to kiss you deeply, “You did such a great job baby. You’re really the best wife ever.”

“Anything for you my love. Happy birthday.” You whisper to him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” he whispers back.

You feel Ana beginning to leave love bites up your leg to your inner thighs as she gets closer and closer to your core. You sigh in satisfaction as you begin to moan loudly when she finally gets to your much needed throbbing core.

Indeed, the night is just beginning.  

[she-karev]

The Pregnant Resident (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Four

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 19 Episode 2

Summary: Benson Kwan says the ‘Q’ word in the pit causing Amber to get annoyed as a massive trauma is called in. Amber becomes fed up with Teddy and Owen fighting in the pit and yells at them setting them straight.

Words: 1508

September 12th, 2022

Amber slumps on the chair behind the nurse’s station at the pit finally able to relax after checking out five patients that came in. It would have been ten but Benson Kwan proved to be useful after all taking half of Amber’s load and treating them accordingly under his chief resident’s watch.

Mika Yasuda was ordered back into Hunt’s service by Altman and despite her growing frustration Amber let her do it since she didn’t want her hormones to make her jobless. Over the past twelve hours in the pit Hunt and Altman have been bickering nonstop in the middle of the pit and it made her patients request being moved to a private room.

She didn’t blame them of course, ever since Hunt has been suspended by the medical board Altman has been on his case 24/7 and making her resentment evident to him and everyone else in the hospital. It got so bad her baby kicks every time one of them raises their voices. Amber thinks the baby is trying to look for a way out of the cringing situation not that she can blame her.

Kwan puts a can of ginger ale in front of Amber and gives her a grin, “Ginger ale at your request Dr. DeLuca.”

Amber mumbles thanks before opening the can and gulps the soda greedily.

Kwan sees his chance to ask a question, “So Dr. DeLuca-”

Amber interrupts him with a loud belch that last for a second and takes Kwan by surprise as he looks disturbed that such a burp can come from a woman.

Amber groans at the burp, “Sorry never get pregnant unless you want to be disgusting 24/7.”

Kwan clears his throat, “It’s fine I’m gonna have to get used to it if I want to be a doctor. I was gonna ask if I could watch Chase’s surgery from the gallery. I’ve already handled your half and the pit is pretty quiet so-”

Amber stops him with a hard set down of her soda can causing him to stop and look shocked by the sudden change in her demeanor, “Did you really just say the 'Q' word during my ER shift?”

Kwan looks confused and speaks to clarify, “What word? Qu-”

Amber stammers in anger to stop him from saying it again and his eyes widen at it, “Stop! Listen to me intern I know you were still sipping apple juice when Michael Jackson died so you don’t know the secrets around hospital procedures. You do not under any circumstances ever use the ‘Q’ word while on shift. That is like walking under a ladder or talking about a no hitter at a dugout.”

“I didn’t think you were superstitious.”

“It is not superstition it is fact!” Kwan is startled by Amber yelling that is interrupted by the multiple phones on the station ringing that the nurses answer and Amber picks hers up while she glares at Kwan who looks frightened by the coincidence, “Grey Sloan Emergency…uh-huh…uh-huh…okay we’ll set up a triage unit when you get here and set up OR’s. Bring the most critical up front and we’ll get trauma to the bay right now.”

Amber hangs up and growls under her breath at Kwan who swallows and asks uneasily, “Who was that?”

“Massive MVC on the highway. Ambulances are twenty minutes out and so far; we have 28 patients incoming because you jinxed us!” Amber quickly pages the residents and interns to the pit, “I am gonna get Hunt and Altman so we can set up a second triage unit in the clinic where you are gonna treat minor injuries.”

Kwan sighs, “Dr. DeLuca I-”

“Nope!” Kwan quiets, “You and your big mouth are going into the deep end because I am worried your gonna induce labor in me while I try to save people. Now go to the clinic and make sure we’re stocked up on gauzes and syringes and have Dr. Marsh come and monitor you guys while I set things up here. Go!”

Kwan groans but does as he’s told and heads to the clinic. Qadri, Parker and Schmitt walk up to Amber who is on the phone with paramedics to know who should be first on the scene.

“Hey we got your page what’s up?” Parker asks.

“Damn intern jinxed us. He said the 'Q' word and now we have multiple MVC’s incoming, their 18 minutes out.”

“Who uses the 'Q' word in the pit?” Levi asks frustrated as well, “It’s like saying Voldemort and he actually shows up at Hogwarts.”  

“I need residents and attendings for serious injuries and interns for non-serious.” Amber looks around the pit and groans frustrated, “Where the hell are Hunt and Altman? The one time I want to be around them!”

Qadri looks up at the trauma room in the corner where Hunt and Altman are clearly arguing with Andrew DeLuca as an awkward stand by in the corner, “They’re in the trauma room arguing and I think your husband is in there too.”

Amber growls and holds the phone out to Schmitt, “Take this while I get Hunt, coordinate with the paramedics and page who we need. Parker start setting up the second triage unit and work with Hunt after I drag him out by his ear. Qadri you and I are going to the ambulance bay and sending patients to either the OR, trauma room or the ER beds. It’s gonna be a busy night guys.”

Qadri sighs, “Maybe Taryn wasn’t crazy to switch to bartending after all.”

Levi takes Amber’s place and talks to the paramedics. Amber quickly walks out of the station and heads inside the trauma room where she frowns at Hunt and Altman fighting at a time like this. Also, she’s angry her husband got pulled into this.

“I didn’t intubate him Yasuda did I talked her through it!”

“And that makes it better!” Altman yells back at Hunt, “You let an intern do a procedure she never did before instead of taking a second to call DeLuca because your ego was too fragile?”

“There wasn’t time to call DeLuca!”

“Guys.” Amber tries to stop them, but they ignore her.

“No there was!” Teddy yells back, “He was only two rooms away and you didn’t think to page him or me!”

“Unlike you I know not to take attendings away from their own patients!”

Andrew addresses Amber, “They’ve been at this for ten minutes I don’t know if they notice they’re not the only ones here.”

Altman retorts back to Amber’s annoyance, “Attendings that wouldn’t be called away if the medical committee didn’t feel that you needed to be supervised 24/7 after they suspended your license! And then you left an intern in charge of tubing a patient do you really think your actions have absolutely no consequences for you and your family?!”

“ENOUGH!” Amber bellows out so loud the couple stop and look shocked at how loud her voice goes. The windows are open so the nurses, residents and interns who just arrived stop and look at the scene.

Amber pays not attention as she addresses Hunt and Altman, “We are running an emergency department, not an episode of Marriage Boot Camp. I don’t give a fuck about Hunt’s suspended license or Altman’s need to emasculate him every minute of the fucking day!” Hunt tries to speak but Amber gets ahead of him, “You even speak one word while I’m on a roll and I will rip your throat out and shove it down your wife’s!”

Hunt closes his mouth and Altman sees the multiple staffers looking in and feels embarrassed being yelled at by a resident, “I don’t care if my husband is supposed to babysit Sergeant Ginger here instead of treating his own patients. I care about the multiple MVC patients that are 15 minutes out and the ambulances about to line up halfway around the damn block! And while I am about to do that, I am six months pregnant and coming off a 12-hour shift!”

Andrew purses his lips at his wife getting to the point that makes Hunt and Altman look guilty as she continues, “So stop fighting and get your heads in the game! Do it like lives are at stake because they are. And get me more staff and more beds and a second triage unit so we can start helping people right now!”

With that Amber walks out the door leaving Hunt and Altman to freeze for a moment in shock that pisses Amber off more as she stands outside the doorway.

“NOW!” The single word snaps Hunt and Altman as they run out the door along with DeLuca who grins at his wife’s passionate attitude that she ignores as she gets a trauma gown.

The residents are still at the station with Qadri smiling in victory and says to the boys, “I win, you owe me 50 bucks boys.” Parker and Schmitt groan as Qadri walks away to join Amber in the ambulance bay.

Next Chapter Here

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

One daiquiri at home for the nozel and solid because their brothers😤.

😁Thanks

Oh I don't think I have written a fic for these two. As in, I'ver written fics for both of them, but not a brotherly interaction. This'll be fun to explore! ^^

Characters: Solid & Nozel (platonic/family obviously) Fanfic type: Oneshot Prompt: Daiquiri (general-fluff) with Solid and Nozel with a focus on them being brothers Length: ~1.2k Warnings: It's a bit angsty? The Silva family isn't a happy family, okay? It's difficult to keep it general-general, but there's an attempt of brotherly affection and a nice discussion

Solid couldn’t remember the last time when he had gone to this brother for advice. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he had, really, gone to anyone for advice.

Sure, he had been given some, when it came to training, by Nebra and Nozel, but that was… that he thought to be different. It wasn’t that he had sought out for advice from them per se, but rather it came with becoming a stronger mage. And the insight of those two, he would listen.

And… he wasn’t sure if he was, even now, going to ask for advice.

But something… in him wanted to … talk with Nozel. He wanted to… chat… with him?

He couldn’t quite put it into words, but ever since they had started becoming closer as siblings, all four of them, Solid had found himself wanting to experience the type of a sibling bond that brothers would share.

Sure, Nebra was nice to talk to, but there was only so much chatter about dresses and makeup that he could put up with. It was almost like talking to Kirsch at times!

But Nebra was… his sister. And Solid couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to talk to her brother as… just a brother.

Yeah… maybe that was it. Solid wanted to ask for advice on how to talk to him.

It sounded ludicrous. Stupid even. When thought as it was, and would sound even more so if spoken out loud. But as he stood there, behind Nozel’s office door for what must’ve been already about ten minutes or so, he had made up his mind.

He would talk to Nozel. About… something. And so, he raised his hand to knock the wooden door, his knuckles creating a hollow sound against the hard surface. But the sound seemed… deeper, more grave, than what he remembered.

Or then, perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

“You may enter,” Nozel spoke from the other side of the door, as a reply to which, Solid pushed open the door, and entered the office, closing the door behind him.

“Good day brother, I hope you’re doing well,” Solid said, which didn’t sound at all like him, and it made him clench his jaw. It sounded… weak, almost pathetic. It sounded like he wanted to please Nozel, be a good younger brother to him. Whatever that meant.

“What is the problem, Solid?”, Nozel asked with a quirked eyebrow as Solid stood in front of the desk, eyes to the floor.

And there was something… something so peculiar in the moment to both of them. Perhaps if they had taken a moment to take a note of the way they were there, in that moment, Solid might have realize that the way he entered the office was similar to the one he had used when requesting something from their father. When he was a mere boy, afraid of the man who was raising him.

If it could be called as ‘raising’ to begin with.

And Nozel? Nozel might have realized that now he was seeing how Solid, and perhaps even Nozel himself during his younger years, had felt while facing their father. Perhaps he might have realized just how they both had looked like when standing in front of the man who had born the title of ‘Lord Silva’.

“I wish to talk with you, brother.”

“About?”

That was when silence settled back into the room. Because Solid still wasn’t sure about what to tell Nozel. What was it that he wanted to talk about? Even if the end goal was for them to become closer as a family, surely there was something to say, something to ask in order to get there?

“How, how was your day?!” He nearly shouted.

While Nozel’s eyebrow remained quirked. “It has been well, so far.”

Another pause, another moment of silence.

“That is good to hear!” Solid nearly shouted again, but his voice broke.

“What is this really about?” Nozel asked, curious, and slightly concerned.

But Solid didn’t really have an answer. Or… he did, but it wasn’t one that he would really have wanted to speak out. And so, as they remained, without speaking, for a minute or two, despite it seeming far longer, Nozel sighed while lowering his eyebrow.

“Take a seat,” Nozel told him, with a small gesturing movement.

But it was enough to make Solid glance to Nozel from the floor.

And again, had either of them taken a moment to look to the room, to the situation from an outside perspective, they might have realized that it was more than their father could ever have been hoped to do. For their father, would never have extended a hand, made a gesture such as that.

But it was with that motion, and those words, that Solid, sat down.

“What is this about, Solid?” Nozel asked again, this time leaning over the table.

But still Solid hesitated. He was bad at this. Both of them were. Not that the question of what this was about, would have been uncalled for. It was, actually, perfectly rational.

It was rational.

And Nozel was looking for a rational answer. The only one being, or the only one Solid could think of, being the truth.

So, he parted his lips and whispered: “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“…Anything.” He was sure that was what he wanted. He wanted to have a brother. Not just on paper. But to really have and feel like he had, a brother.

“Anything?” Nozel repeated with a questioning frown.

“Yes…” Solid admitted. “Because I… now that we’re… talking about the things that happened, with Noelle and everything, with all of us I thought that… We haven’t really been a family. And I can talk to Nebra about a lot of things but I… I just wanted to talk to you.” He had no real train of thought, but it was there, how he felt, hidden behind those lines.

Nozel wasn’t sure how to reply. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, he could really say. Because how does reply to such a statement? So, instead of replying directly, he said something else.

“So…” he cleared his throat. “How was your day?” It was clumsy and uncertain. Careful and stiff in the way it came out. But… it was as good as anything else.

“Good,” Solid replied, amused in the slightest of the question. Or not even the question, the situation itself. “I’ve been training hard.”

“Good,” Nozel replied. “Perhaps… umm… If you train hard, you may, perhaps, take on as Captain, after me.”

“Nebra … I don’t think… would be interested in becoming a Captain.”

“Still, it requires the utmost skill. It is a product of many years of work.”

“I know, brother. I’ve seen you work tirelessly for it.”

“So… you know that it can be done.”

“I do,” Solid nodded.

The entire exchange was strange. It was so… personal yet impersonal. The topic wasn’t personal per se, but the way it went, the way they talked, felt like a genuine exchange between the two of them, as people, as individuals rather than knights.

An exchange between long lost brothers, who had lived under the same roof.

It was only one exchange, but … with time, it would become many. This was only the first step towards the right direction.

[whyscserious]

affiliates: @qu-tipie @dcmoniism @tootyfuckingfruity MEMES | PROMO | HEADCANONS WORLD WITHOUT RULES

Helloooo there and welcome to my Nolanverse Joker blog. I am Penny 21+ My pronouns are she/her but they/them are okay also.

Because of the mature themes that will be portrayed on this blog absolutely no one under 21 will be admitted. If I find out you are lying to me about your age you will be blocked. No exceptions.

I am not mutuals only. Anyone is welcome to follow and send in memes and respond to my opens. I am just selective about who I follow and write with. I am very iffy about personals following if you do happen to follow, please do not reblog my asks or threads. If this becomes a problem I will be blocking you.

I am not going to reblog extreme gore, it messes with the aesthetic and starts to look like a snuff blog, but I will reblog knives, guns and objects burning for aesthetic purposes. Maybe some blood. I will tag them appropriately if this becomes a problem. I will not tag traditional clowns. But I will also not reblog them. I will only be reblogging Nolanverse Joker aesthetic gifs and pictures. And occasionally Harley Quinn.

Harleys Tread with caution and please refrain from calling him Puddin. Unless speaking to me about it beforehand. I will tag abuse and other nasty elements.

I will not write r*pe, in*est, pe*ophilia, r#cism and other nasty subjects. But I will write bloody violence, extreme gore, abusive subject matter and explosions. They will be tagged with trigger warnings. If you feel a subject/plot is too heavy please speak to me about it and we will do something else or pull it in another direction. I don't want to water him down because I like to stay true to the character but I understand if some people might be uncomfortable with extreme subject matter. However, If you are sensitive to these elements this is probably not the right blog for you.

Smut? Maybe I will write some not safe for work but it won't be cuddly or romantic. I also prefer to have a good relationship with the mun. Also: don't expect him to be your snuggly bunny. Not even with Harley Quinn. Warning: It's probably gonna be bizarre, unromantic and probably kinky. I have a separate blog for spicy interactions. Please let me know if you would like the url. I reserve that only for Joker "ships." AND YOU MUST BE OVER 21+ TO INTERACT OR FOLLOW.

My Joker is a mix of media I have incorporated from fanfiction, fanvideos and the movie The Dark Knight along with some unsaid headcanons I threw in to make him stand out amongst other portrayals. I also take inspiration from the bands NIN, Korn, and Slipknot. I feel they are the most Jokercoded.

Please Do not lift any headcanons or writing ideas from this blog. I will find out.

My gifs/icons are from fanpop, insanejournal, and my good friend chaoticjoke My theme and all other graphics and icons are from @butscrewmefirst. I use gif icons for my dash responses ooc and I use my icons for threads. I will use one or two depending on the length of the thread. I do have icons of Heath Ledger from the film Candy and Ten Things and Two Hands for youth verse and arkham threads. If this is uncomfortable for you, since Heath has passed away, please let me know and I will not use them in our threads. I will work around it.

I don't "roleplay" in the ask box. If you want to continue a thread from an ask please make a separate post and @ me in the post. Thank you.

I don’t appreciate if you only leave your own reply in our thread because when I do drafts I need to reread what my character replied to yours to keep the plot consistent and coherent.

I have other blogs besides this one. I have Harley Quinn and also Sheldon Cooper from Big Bang Theory. Sheldon Cooper takes up most of my time, energy, and focus. So please be patient for replies. I usually have muse for Joker on the weekends or at nighttime but lately it depends on how strong my muse for Joker is.

MUN IS NOT THE MUSE. I HAVE NO CREEPY WEIRD FETISHY OBSESSION WITH THE JOKER. I AM VERY FRIENDLY I PROMISE NOT TO SOUND LIKE A HARD ASS. I GOOGLE EVERYTHING. JOKER IS A VILLAIN. I UNDERSTAND THAT. I TREAT HIM AS SO I AM NOT TRYING TO REDEEM HIM.

Do not ask for verses for redemption because they will be ignored. Please do not try to change his characterization. He is a villain and unstable. That is not the canon I have envisioned for this portrayal. Thank you.

If you have any other questions just ask me. Tumblr IMs are available always.

[bluejay-in-flight]

I posted 14,608 times in 2022

That's 7,661 more posts than 2021!

122 posts created (1%)

14,486 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mayatuks-catastrophe

@polizwrites

@cptnvers

@whyamionlyabletouse32characters

@frost-pink

I tagged 760 of my posts in 2022

#unreality - 200 posts

#lot live blog - 60 posts

#my posts - 30 posts

#answered - 26 posts

#signal boost - 22 posts

#reblogged and added - 17 posts

#ask games - 16 posts

#goncharov - 14 posts

#writing references - 12 posts

#sk8 the infinity - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and not because ew gross but because these things make life harder than it already is for me and so just much anxiety for the future 😅😅😅

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Goncharov (1973)

Made some more matching icons for my favorite pairing!!! Katya/Sofia is honestly the best ship in that movie and doesn't get nearly enough attention 🥺😍

Please be respectful tho and Reblog/Like if you use!

19 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#4

10 Songs 10 People Tag Game

Tagged by: @residentdormouse

Rules: Shuffle your library and list 10 songs and tag 10 people

(I'm going with my Dryad’s Veil story playlist because I've been listening to it non stop recently haha)

Warpath - Tim Halperin and Hidden Citizens

Fearless - Kat Leon

I'm A Wanted Man - Royal Deluxe

Newton’s First - The Altogether (ahhh I'm not crying 😭)

Forest Fires - Lauren Aquilina

Champion - Tommee Profitt and Nicole Serrano

Breathe - Fleurie and Tommee Profitt

Not OK - Maria Mena (I have a really soft spot for this one)

Sharp Edges - Linkin Park (newly added)

Coffins - Bohnes

(love how the first three were hella intense which is definitely not the general vibe of this playlist haha)

Tagging if you wanna join in if you don't that's fine too 💙 (also if anyone not listed wants to join in the fun please do and tag me 😄)

@bisexualterror, @ipanicatmorethanjustthedisco, @oneirataxia-girl, @theroseunblown, @stridingseer, @privateerstudies, @avarhodes, @qu-ilinn, @emphasis-on-the-oopsie, @al-pomegranate-seeds, @deniedmysign, @vaguelyaperson, @waterloou, @heirsoflilith, @darknightfrombeyond

(also just realized I went way over ten people but oh well 😅🤣)

21 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#3

New Writing Sideblog! ✍🏽

So thank you to all of those who encouraged me to make a writing side blog!! It is now completed and I decided to be a little cheeky by calling it @bluejay-in-write 😋 I hope you all enjoy it! I have already shared my first post for one of my avatar the last Airbender ocs and there are many more of my other story posts to come 😄 I love you all and hope you have a wonderful day 💙 Here's a sneak peek of my first oc post!

25 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

#2

Katya's Curse of Indecision

Okay so is anyone else obsessing over the fact that Katya was struggling so hard to pick between Goncharov and Sofia, loving both strongly but in very different ways, and then she lost both of them... (also this isn't talking about whether either of them were healthy for her or not so if you're gonna come on my post to argue about that fuck off)

Sofia and Goncharov were different people who gave her different things and in the end Katya's inability to choose ruined what little time she had with either of them. Can you imagine how cursed she must feel, doomed to fall in love with two different people and then to lose them both before she could even decide which one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with (which would obviously be Sofia if Katya had made up her mind before Sofia died) Like I'm sure it was hard enough torn between two people, two futures, two versions of yourself, but then suddenly she had no one, an unhappy future, and only herself to blame.

Life held it's hands out to Katya, Sofia in one hand and Goncharov in the other, and told her to choose and as Katya reached out Life opened both of it's hands to reveal that they contained nothing.

31 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

56 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[peppermint-toads]

Okay, but what if the reader has a day where she just cries, like it's just one of those days and the boys (wolfstar) are a little confused but try to figure it out, or they wanted to do some seggsy time but she just starts crying from exhaustion or something, just a lil thought

word count: 1.4k

cw: mostly fluff, spanking, use of safe word

an: this is my first request thank you thank you! i hope you enjoy!

“Fuck!” You winced as you rammed your shin into Sirius’ bed frame. The sudden pain caused your hands to fly down to the source of pain, grappling onto your leg as your books tumbled from your hold and onto your toes. “Shit!”

Hot tears pricked at your irises, less so from the pain and more from the pent up frustration festering in your entire being.

You had missed breakfast that morning, cursing yourself as your oxfords clacked across the castle floors, desperately trying to at least make it to transfigurations on time. With your luck, you had stumbled into class late and you were met with an utterly fuming Sirius.

He pinched your thigh when you sat, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “You’re going to regret that.” This caused goosebumps to prickle at your skin, and not in the usual good way. Today his musings only fueled the pit of dread growing in your tummy.

The day dragged on, one painfully boring class after another. Potions, a class that you typically found captivating, did nothing to pique your interest. You were so distracted, in fact, that you completely blundered your garrotting gas potion. Slughorn decided it would be a lovely idea to make an example out of you.

“You see, ladies and gentlemen,” he chuckled to himself, “We want to do the exact opposite of what Miss y/l/n has done!” His plump cheeks glinted as he continued laughing to himself. You even caught Remus giggling to himself across the classroom.

You stared down at your fidgeting fingers, trying to coax the tears forming your eyes back into a state of dormancy. The fact that your own boyfriend was finding amusement in your humiliation made you feel ten times worse. You could feel the blistering heat creep up your cheeks until it tinted the tips of your ears a deep vermillion.

You choked back any visible signs of your vexation, opting to simply keep your head down and focus on your work until the class came to an end.

You grabbed your belongings in one swift motion, not looking to entertain Remus’ company. Your strides were long as you paced through the corridors to the tower, hoping to find solace under Sirius’ duvet.

You stumbled up the stairs, eager to hide from all the stressors the outside world had thrown at you today. Luckily, when you entered, you were met with silence, the boys probably messing about the castle somewhere.

You quickly kicked off your shiny, black shoes and unzipped your skirt, aching to replace your robes with one of Remus’ t-shirts. You did exactly that, trifling through his wardrobe for the shirt you desired. You remained in only your knickers, too tired to change into anything else.

Remus’ scent was present on the fabric, hints of tea leaves and parchment wafting upwards and catching on your nostrils. You relaxed, the aroma lulling you into a peaceful state.

It didn’t last long, however. You were ripped from your blissful headspace by the sound of the wooden door creaking open.

Remus and Sirius trampled over each other, both boys entrapped in fits of laughter.

“Did you see James’ face?” Sirius snorted, clutching his side in pain.

Remus nodded quickly, grappling at the door frame, nearly keeling over from the sheer force of his own laughter.

You watched them silently, crossing your fingers that Sirius had forgotten of your tardiness. And upon seeing Remus’ face, you were reminded of the ignominy of your potion. Tears filled your eyes yet again, but you wiped them away quickly, fearing further embarrassment.

Once Remus’ stature had returned to normal, he focused his attention to you, “You got away from me so quickly today, puppy. What was that about, hm?” Within moments, he was standing in front of you, stroking your hair back from your cheek that was smushed against Sirius’ plush pillow. You blinked up at him with glossy eyes, projecting innocence.

He smoothed a finger over your cheek, the sickeningly soft touch sending shivers down your spine. You sat up, reaching out and scrunching your fingers at the boy, signaling that you wanted up.

He obliged, slipping his arms around your waist and hoisting you up to straddle him. You pressed your cheek into his shoulder as he carried you over to Sirius. Remus quickly transferred you into Sirius’ arms, your legs now wrapped around the long-haired boy’s waist.

Sirius’ warm fingers melded into the undersides of your thighs and you mewled at the sensation. Your nose was mere centimeters away from his own, you could feel his soft breaths tickling your skin.

“You were late today, angel.” His grip on your thighs grew harder, the once comforting feeling turning into one that plagued you with unease. “Now what are we going to do about that?” He drawled.

Remus stood behind you, tenderly drawing shapes across your back. “You know that’s one of our rules, darling. You know better.” Remus’ tone was gentle but still reprimanding.

“What do you say, Remus? Maybe a spanking or two will straighten ‘er out?” You swallowed, all you wanted to do was rant about your day but you held your tongue, wanting to avoid further punishment.

Sirius carried you back to the bed you were curled up on only moments ago, laying you over his lap. Your limbs were splayed haphazardly across the mattress and Sirius’ firm thighs. He trailed his fingers up your thighs and to the hem of your borrowed shirt, lifting it over the curve of your bum.

I can do this, I’ll be fine, I can-

“Shit!” You cried as Sirius’ hand came down and landed a harsh strike across your flesh. A searing handprint was left in his wake, small white welts already forming on your skin.

“Oh you poor, pitiful thing,” Sirius seethed, rubbing a hand over the imprint, somewhat soothing your scorching skin.

The second spank came down harder and faster than the first, pain building off of the already existing impression. An onslaught of tears was released, you could no longer quell your pain and frustration.

“Butterscotch, butterscotch! Please!” You wailed out just before Sirius could deliver a third thwack to your backside. Remus was at your side before you could even blink and Sirius was flipping you over to straddle his lap. You winced, the movement stressing your fresh wound.

“Shh, shh angel, you’re alright,” Remus cooed from beside you as you smeared hot tears into Sirius’ sweater. Sirius’ firm grasp was now gently cradling the back of your head, stroking softly.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“F-first I m-missed breakfast, then I-I was late and Si got mad at me,” Every word came out broken, you couldn’t help the stuttering mess you had become.

“Oh, puppy,” Sirius frowned, “Was never really mad at you, could never be.”

“And t-then Professor S-Slughorn completely embarrassed me! And Remmy laughed!” Your tears picked up considerably and Remus’ cheeks flushed with guilt. He placed a tentative hand on your back, rubbing kindly against your heaving frame.

The three of you remained like this for a bit, soft touches lingering over you as hot tears rolled over the apples of your cheeks. They continued shushing you gently until your sobbing subsided into small hiccups.

“There we are,” Remus sighed out, relieved that you were finally calming down.

“We would never make you feel bad on purpose, y’know that right?” You nodded feebly into Sirius’ chest, finding comfort in the vibrations that tickled your ear when he spoke. You hummed at the sensation, your entire body relaxing into his form.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at you, promise. You just looked so flustered, I thought it was cute! I swear.” Remus explained, hoping to Merlin that you weren’t actually angry with him.

“S’okay, Rem.” You slurred, reaching a hand out to hold his own.

“C’mon, poppet, let’s get you to bed.” Sirius said decidedly.

“I’ll read you any book you’d like, how does that sound?” Remus added on quickly. Usually, he would pick the reading; anything he deemed noteworthy or deserving of his time. But tonight, it was your decision to make.

[thewidowsghost]

Fox - Chapter 24

3rd Person POV

A few hours later, (Y/n) wakes up, (Y/n) stretching slightly, before shifting back into herself. (Y/n) places a hand on her left leg, and closes her eyes. She could sense that her leg was healed and (Y/n) uses her telekinesis to take the cast off. (Y/n) then stands up, putting some weight on the leg. When the leg doesn't tremble or collapse, (Y/n) lights the cast on fire, controlling it until it isn't there anymore. (Y/n) spares a glance at Natasha, who's still asleep, and silently opens the door, and slips out and down the stairs.

"Hey guys," (Y/n) says cheerfully, walking into the living room, where Clint and Laura were sitting.

"Hey, the cast is gone," Clint says, studying (Y/n) as she sits down on the couch beside Laura.

"Yep," she says happily. "Completely healed."

"So (Y/n)?" Laura says and (Y/n) turns her bright, (E/C) gaze on the brunette. "How was the nap?"

"It was fine," (Y/n) says in a clear voice, and Laura nods.

"Good," Laura says simply, smiling at the (H/C) haired woman. "So, how was the mission?" Laura asks.

"It was," (Y/n) pauses for a moment before answering, "not what I hoped it would've been. Clint can tell you about it later," (Y/n) says softly. (Y/n) then clears her throat, "I came back to get my guitar. Fury's stationing Natasha and I in New York City in a few weeks."

"That sounds nice, (Y/n)," Laura says, smiling at her. "Do you and Nat want to spend the night here tonight?" Laura offers. "Then you can go home and get all of your stuff."

"If it's no problem," (Y/n) says.

"Of course it's not, you've saved my husband's life," Laura says.

"And Nat's," Clint adds.

"Sure, we'll stay here overnight," (Y/n) says and Laura smiles at her.

"Good," Laura stands up. "Want to help me with dinner?" she asks.

"Sure," (Y/n) jumps up and follows Laura out of the living room and into the kitchen. "So, what are we going to be making?"

"I was thinking fettuccine," Laura says and (Y/n) walks over get get some things to make the dough from scratch. After a little bit, (Y/n) is standing over the stove, boiling the pasta. She drains the pasta and Laura mixes the white sauce.

"Go wake Nat," Laura says.

(Y/n) nods, then jogs up the stairs and into the bedroom she shares with Natasha.

"Nat," (Y/n) says, sitting down on the bed beside the red fox. (Y/n) nudges the fox gently and Natasha lifts her head. She leans into (Y/n)'s hand as she scratches behind her ears. "Come on, it's time to eat," Natasha places a paw on (Y/n)'s knee and shifts back into herself. "Just between you and me, you make a cute fox," (Y/n) says and Natasha laughs. The two stand up and go downstairs to see the four Bartons sitting around the table and (Y/n) and Natasha take their respective seats at the table.

The six laugh and joke around during dinner and then Natasha and (Y/n) clean up. "So, you're not in a cast anymore," Natasha says, looking at (Y/n).

"Yep, it's completely healed, so now, I'm not completely hopeless," (Y/n) says cheerfully.

"You aren't hopeless," Natasha says.

"It was a joke Romanoff," (Y/n) teases and Natasha rolls her green eyes. "Come on, we're done," (Y/n) says. "Gotta find our big fancy new apartment," (Y/n) says and Natasha laughs. The two go upstairs and (Y/n) grabs her laptop and the two settle down on the bed.

"So, New York City," Natasha says as (Y/n) types something into the search bar. "Ever been?"

"No actually," (Y/n) says as she scrolls through different apartment listings before stopping at one that both liked.

"I like that one," Natasha says, scrolling through the pictures.

"Yeah, I do too," (Y/n) says. "Wanna go have a look at it tomorrow or the day after?"

"Sure," Natasha says and (Y/n) pulls out her phone. "Whatcha doing?"

"Calling the number so we can schedule a time to go see it," (Y/n) says, dialing the number and putting it on speaker phone so Natasha could hear.

"Uh, hello," (Y/n) says. "I'd like to schedule a time to look at the apartment."

"Okay," a woman says into the phone. "Can I get your name?"

"Sure, it's uh, (Y/n) Stark," (Y/n) says and the woman goes silent for a moment. (Y/n) holds up a hand and counts down from three.

"You mean, Captain (Y/n) Stark, Tony Stark's daughter, (Y/n) Stark," the woman says.

"Yes ma'am," (Y/n) answers, rolling her eyes.

"Is 3:00 the day after tomorrow okay?" the woman on the phone asks.

"Sure, that'll be fine," (Y/n) says.

"Alright, we'll see you at the apartment then," the woman says. "Have a good rest of your day, Miss Stark."

"You too, ma'am," (Y/n) says, and the two end the call. "People always react like that when I say my name. I wish they wouldn't sometimes," (Y/n) says, closing her laptop and placing it on her suitcase.

"You're to famous to be with someone like me," Natasha mutters.

"Don't say that, Nat," (Y/n) says, going back over to sit beside Natasha on the bed. "If we're being honest, I hate being famous," (Y/n) says. "The only reason people act like that is because my dad is a billionaire," (Y/n) sighs, "nothing I actually did matters."

"They always refer to you as Captain though," Natasha says, resting her head on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"That's because Dad went and told everyone that I joined the military," (Y/n) explains. "The only place it matters is with SHIELD, and that's because a mission went wrong," (Y/n) pauses before continuing, "I'll change that someday. Maybe I'll save the world a few times with my girlfriend, or maybe Captain Rogers will come back to life and we'll save the world together, or, even better, both happen at the same time," (Y/n) laughs softly and Natasha looks up at her.

"You have such a vivid imagination, I love it," Natasha laughs.

"Know what? If I end up being right, you owe me ten bucks and a coffee," (Y/n) says.

"Deal," Natasha says, "And if not, you owe me all of your coffee," Natasha teases.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to be right," (Y/n) says firmly, "especially with my coffee on the line."

(Y/n) and Natasha sit there for a while before (Y/n) speaks again. "I thing Laura saw us earlier."

"Why's that?" Natasha asks, her head still leaning on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"When I sat down in the living room with her and Clint, she asked how the nap went," (Y/n) says.

"Oops," Natasha says and (Y/n) laughs. Hesitantly, (Y/n) wraps her arm around Natasha, her hand resting on the redhead's waist. When Natasha doesn't say anything, (Y/n) relaxes, letting her head rest against Natasha's. "This is nice," Natasha sighs. "You know, (Y/n)?" Natasha begins, and (Y/n) hums in response. "I didn't think that anyone would like me, especially after my past. I was taught that I don't have a place in the world." Natasha senses that (Y/n) was about to say something so she hastily goes on. "I'm glad I met you, you've shown me that I do have a place in the world."

"Nat..." (Y/n) says sadly.

"You don't have to be sad, it's a good thing," Natasha says.

"Yeah, but I don't me being what you think is your place in the world," (Y/n) says and Natasha looks up at her. "I love being around you, but you know what kind of life we live. I just don't want you to go back to thinking that you have no place in the world if I go too soon, you know?"

"You're making this too complicated," Natasha complains, snuggling into (Y/n)'s side. "I'm just trying to say, thank you for giving me a second chance."

"You deserved it, you were pretty much brainwashed," (Y/n) says. "You were a kid that was taught the wrong thing, now you're an adult that can make better decisions for yourself."

"Since when did you get so smart?" Natasha asks in a teasing tone.

"Maybe my small brain got bigger?" (Y/n) wonders aloud and Natasha laughs. "Hey," (Y/n) says a moment later. "What do you say that tomorrow, we got to my house, and get all my stuff, then we can be in New York City tomorrow night for dinner? My Dad told me about this really nice place."

"Sure, that sounds fun," Natasha says, yawning.

"Aww, somebody's tired," (Y/n) teases. "Who thought the Black Widow would be a cuddler?"

"Shut up," Natasha says, smacking (Y/n)'s arm lightly.

"Good night, Nat," (Y/n) says softly, turning off the light with her telekinesis.

The next morning Natasha wakes up before (Y/n). Then she feels something on her waist and looks down to see (Y/n)'s hand still resting there. Natasha's attention is drawn to the door that opens, Laura sticking her head in. She catches sight of the two on the bed and she smiles.

"Laura, I'm stuck!" Natasha whispers. Laura laughs softly and closes the door again. "(Y/n)," Natasha nudges the (H/C) haired woman. (Y/n) whines and bats Natasha's hand away. "(Y/n), stop being cute! Wake up!" Natasha, shakes (Y/n)'s shoulder. (Y/n) whines again and sits up.

"Did you call me cute?" (Y/n) asks sleepily.

"No..." Natasha says and (Y/n) stares at her, her hair disheveled.

"Are you lying to me?" (Y/n) asks.

"No...." Natasha says trailing off at the end.

"You're mean!" (Y/n) says, wrapping her arms around Natasha's waist and pulling the redhead closer, then placing her chin on the redhead's head. "I guess we gotta move now," (Y/n) says, letting go of Natasha.

"Laura popped her head in a minute ago," Natasha says, the two standing up. "I think she knows."

"Oh no," (Y/n) collapses dramatically. "She has discovered our terrible secret. We," (Y/n) places a hand on her forehead, palm facing out, "shall parish."

"Idiot," Natasha says fondly, pulling (Y/n) to her feet.

"Stupid," (Y/n) counters playfully, the two walking out of the room and down the stairs.

"Auntie (Y/n)!"

"Auntie Nat!"

Cooper runs over and launches himself at (Y/n) and Lila the same with Natasha.

"Hey kid!" (Y/n) scoops Cooper up and the little boy throws his arms around her neck.

"Auntie (Y/n)," Cooper whispers just enough for (Y/n) to hear, "are you and Auntie Nat gonna get married like Mommy and Daddy?"

(Y/n) chokes on air and coughs, and sets Cooper back down on the ground, her (E/C) eyes wide.

"I don't know, kid," (Y/n) says, her voice half an octave higher, and her face a little red.

Natasha looks at (Y/n) questioningly but (Y/n) doesn't meet her gaze.

"Come on, kids," (Y/n) says, picking up Cooper again, and talking Lila from Natasha. (Y/n) lifts the two kids on each shoulder and they laugh as she walks them to the dining room table. She sets them down in their chairs before going to join the kitchen while Natasha sits down with the two kids. From her place at the table, she sees (Y/n) and Laura speaking a few words, and (Y/n) going slightly red in the face, before (Y/n) brings out a couple plates, forks, and knives from the kitchen. (Y/n) walks back in the kitchen, and Laura slides her a cutting board, a knife, and a basket of strawberries.

"Auntie Nat?" Lila says, and the redhead turns to the little girl.

"Yeah?" Natasha asks.

"Are you and Auntie (Y/n) gonna get married?" Lila asks innocently and Natasha's green eyes widen.

"I don't know, sweetie," Natasha says softly, her gaze drifting over to (Y/n) who was cutting strawberries while talking to Laura.

In the kitchen, Laura says, "So, looks like Natasha escaped." (Y/n) looks questioningly at her.

"What do you mean?" (Y/n) asks, pausing in slicing the strawberries.

"I stuck my head in, and you were cuddling up to Natasha on the bed," (Y/n)'s face goes a little red and she continues slicing strawberries. "She said that she was trapped."

"Uh..." (Y/n) trails off.

"Are you and Natasha dating now?" Laura asks, and (Y/n) turns back to the brunette.

"Maybe?" (Y/n) says, her question sounding more like a statement.

"I knew it!" Laura says happily and (Y/n) lets out a soft laugh.

"Just don't tell anyone," (Y/n) says. "Nat wants to see how it goes before telling a ton of people. But I think that Cooper already thinks we're going to get married."

"Why's that?" Laura asks.

"He asked me if me and Nat were going to get married like you and Clint, and," (Y/n) glances over her shoulder to see Natasha, who's face had gone red, "I think Nat got the question too."

"So, are you and Nat getting an apartment in New York together?" Laura asks.

"We figured, since we're dating, and working together, it made sense to just do it," (Y/n) says. "We're getting an apartment with more than one bedroom though, in case y'all wanted to come visit some time."

"It does make sense," Laura agrees. "Just make sure work life doesn't stray into your home life. Don't have something that happened between you at work effect what happens at home."

"Thanks for the advice, Laura," (Y/n) says, smiling at the shorter brunette.

"No problem," Laura says. "Now, let's take these into the dining room and save you're girlfriend from being embarrassed to death by my children."

(Y/n) laughs and grabs the bowl of strawberries and Laura, the plate of pancakes. The two set the dishes on the table, and (Y/n) runs and grabs the syrup and Laura goes up stairs to wake Clint. (Y/n) sits down beside Natasha at the table and takes her hand under the table.

Laura definitely found out, (Y/n) tells the redhead. She just asked if we were dating.

What did you say?  Natasha thinks.

I told her we were, but not to tell anyone, (Y/n) answers and Natasha nods. She gave me some advice too. I'll tell you about it later.

Laura and Clint come and sit down at the table and (Y/n) drops Natasha's hand and the six eat the pancakes.

About half and hour later finds the Bartons, Natasha and (Y/n) saying goodbye. Laura pulls (Y/n) into a hug, then Natasha, whispering in the redhead's ear, "Treat your girl well."

"I will," Natasha smiles, pulling out of the hug.

(Y/n) let's out a squeak as Clint unexpectedly wraps her in a hug. "Don't die on me, kid," Clint says.

"We're just moving," (Y/n) laughs.

"What if you get crushed by boxes? Or get ran over by a car?" Clint questions.

"Clint!" (Y/n) says. "I will be fine, I've got Nat."

"What if you get mugged?" Clint asks.

"Clint, she can take care of herself," Natasha says.

"Thank you," (Y/n) says. "See you around, Clint," (Y/n) pulls the archer into another hug.

"See you kid," Clint says.

The two pull apart from the hug and (Y/n) grabs her suitcase and guitar and Natasha grabs her own suitcase. The four - Clint, Laura, Natasha, and (Y/n) - walk outside and to the Quinjet. The two women walk inside and put their stuff in the Quinjet.

Time Skip - At the Malibu Airport

When the two land at the airport, (Y/n) grabs her wallet and phone and her and Natasha walk out to (Y/n)'s car. "You won't believe what Coop asked me earlier," (Y/n) says, driving to her Dad's house.

"Let me guess," Natasha says and (Y/n) nods. "He asked if we were going to get married."

"They asked you, too?" (Y/n) asks.

"Yep," Natasha says.

"I wonder where that came from?" (Y/n) wonders.

"Who knows," Natasha answers.

"Okay, we're here," (Y/n) says, parking the car in her dad's driveway. "There's just a couple things I want to grab. I figure we can get stuff for the apartment and have it shipped or something."

"Sounds good," Natasha says and the two get out of the car.

(Y/n) holds the door open and bows Natasha through.

"I'm dating an idiot," Natasha says and (Y/n) laughs.

"At least I'm not dating an idiot," (Y/n) says.

"Miss Stark," JARVIS says.

"Hey JARVIS," (Y/n) says.

"Would you like to inform Mr. Stark of your arrival?" JARVIS asks.

"Sure, if it's not a problem," (Y/n) answers. "Oh, and Pepper too, if she's here. And JARVIS, I told you to call me (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). Miss Potts will be up in a while. She is currently working on the Boss's art collection," JARVIS says.

"Thanks JARVIS," (Y/n) says. "What?" (Y/n) asks, because Natasha is staring at her.

"You're talking to the voice in the sky," Natasha says and (Y/n) laughs, the two making their way up the stairs.

"It's an A.I.," (Y/n) says, the two walking into her room. (Y/n) snaps her fingers and a couple of boxes pop out of nowhere, landing on (Y/n)'s bed.

"Hey Nat, would you mind putting my guitar and viola in their cases?" (Y/n) asks. "I've got to go grab something from the lab."

"No, I don't mind," Natasha answers. "Where's -" Natasha begins, but (Y/n) smiles and hands the cases to the redhead. (Y/n) jogs over to her closet, presses the button and she jogs over to her lab.

"Hey, (M/n)? Are all my files backed up?" (Y/n) asks, pulling some binders off the wall.

"Just a couple of things that were kept off the backup drive," (M/n) answers.

"Could you back them up on the new laptop? Thanks," (Y/n) says, and the top of the desk slides open and a new laptop pops out. A few minutes later, there is a bing and (Y/n) grabs the laptop, and carries it, and the binders back into the elevator, and presses the button. After getting back up to her room and (Y/n) carries her things to one of the boxes and takes a sharpie and writes, New Laptop and Research, on the outside.

"Hey, (Y/n)? Do you want these books in boxes?" Natasha asks, pointing to the bookshelf.

"Uh, yeah, if it's not a problem," (Y/n) says, and Natasha takes a box over and begins putting the books into the box before moving onto the movies.

(Y/n) walks over to her closet, and pulls out all her leather jackets, and put them into a box, writing, Leather Jackets, on the side, then she continues to do the same with the rest of her clothes. Shorts, jeans, and sweatpants in one box, t-shirts and a few dresses in another, pajamas in another box, and putting underwear and socks in another box. Rummaging around in the bottom of the closet, she finds the wooden box she had gotten from her mom a few years before. (Y/n) sits down on her bed and opens the box, flicking through all the pictures inside before Natasha comes to sit beside her.

(Y/n) pauses at a picture with a five year old (Y/n) and a woman that reminded Natasha of her. The woman was probably about twenty five, and had (M/H/C) hair and (M/E/C) eyes.

"Is that your Mom?" Natasha asks softly and (Y/n) nods. "She's really pretty," Natasha says, looking at another picture of (Y/n), who looks about seventeen in the picture, standing beside her mother.

"I wish she could be here now, you know?" (Y/n) says.

"I think she'd be proud," Natasha says and (Y/n) smiles gratefully at the redhead before placing the pictures in the wooden box. Then (Y/n) stands up and grabs all the pictures from around the room and place them in the box; then (Y/n) glances around the room.

"That should be it," (Y/n) says. (Y/n) picks up the box with the books.

"Should I help?" Natasha asks. "You know, so your dad doesn't see you lifting more than you really should be?"

"Smart," (Y/n) says, she moves her arms, but still holding up most of the weight. The two make their way down the stairs and place the box in (Y/n)'s car. The two jog back inside and put everything into the car. "I didn't think that all that was gonna fit," (Y/n) says as the two walk back inside. "And I would like coffee," (Y/n) says, walking over to the coffee maker. "You want some?" (Y/n) asks.

"Sure!"

"And yes, all black," (Y/n) says, pouring some coffee into three mugs. "I'm gonna run one of these down to Dad," she says, picking up a mug and walking down to her Dad's lab. She puts in the code and walks in, seeing her father at his desk. "Morning Dad!" (Y/n) says, cheerfully, setting the coffee down beside him on the desk.

"(Y/n)! When did you get here?" Tony asks, hugging his daughter.

"I had to grab some stuff," (Y/n) says as her father takes a sip of coffee. "I'm being moved to the branch in New York City."

"You're going to be alone?" Tony asks.

"No, I have a friend that's going to be my roommate," (Y/n) says.

"I'm gonna miss having you around, kid," Tony says.

"I'll come back and visit," (Y/n) promises.

"You'd better," he says playfully and (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

"Right, bye Dad," (Y/n) says, hugging her father again, then she jogs upstairs and sees Natasha and Pepper talking. "Hi Pepper," (Y/n) says and the auburn haired woman turns to her and wraps (Y/n) in a hug.

"So, you're moving to the big city?" Pepper asks as she, (Y/n) and Natasha walk out to (Y/n)'s car.

"Yep, but Natalie is going to move in with me. We're both being relocated," (Y/n) says.

"Well, make sure to come and visit," Pepper says and Natasha and (Y/n) get in the car.

"I will," (Y/n) promises.

(Y/n) pulls the car out of the driveway and drives back to the airport. (Y/n) goes and grabs a trolley and she and Natasha put (Y/n)'s stuff onto it and wheel it out to the Quinjet.

Word Count: 3768 words

I though it would be cute to have Natasha be super cute and soft in the morning, but like serious around the other Avengers when it comes along, but tell me what you think.

Love,

         Kaitlynn 😍❤️

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2​

[filthy-rat]

Mary goore ask; Mary sees the reader at a gas station or a store, as they're walking home a creepy guy starts hitting on them and mary shows up to kick ass and take names - consensual, bloody, alley way sex with the corpse fucker ensues.

It’s late. Way too late to be out, but here you are. When the insomnia hits, it tends to hit hard, and you take to wandering, ravenously devouring the pulse of the city you call home. For the most part, you’re left alone by the other night owls. You carry a switchblade and pepper spray just in case, of course, but they hardly see any use and you’re grateful for that.

On one such night, you’ve wandered to a nearby 24-hour drug store in search of impulse purchases. You leave the convenience store, pop a piece of gum into your mouth, and place your earbuds back into your ears. With slow, heavy metal blaring from your phone, you don’t notice the footfalls of the menacing man following only a few feet behind you.

Suddenly, a leather-clad arm materializes out of thin air and snakes around your shoulders. Startled at the unexpected contact, you practically rip your earbuds out in shock and try to jerk away. The arm remains tight around you, pinning you close to a lean torso.

“Hey, what the fuck--”

“There you are, babydoll. Been lookin’ everywhere for you. Told you to wait for me at the shop,” interrupts the owner of said arm, in a voice that is much too loud.

The thin young man now at your side, gently but firmly pulling you down the darkened sidewalk, is a complete fucking stranger. He’s tall and ruggedly handsome--in a nasty gutter punk kind of way--with his black hair pulled into a messy devil lock that obscures a good chunk of his face, and a cigarette tucked behind one ear. With wide, panicked eyes, you stare up at him, bewildered, and he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

“Play it cool--there’s some fuckin’ creeper following you.”

Icy fears steals into your veins. Heart pounding, you allow yourself to be led down the street, stiff as a corpse beneath this guy’s arm. Whoever this stranger is, he certainly seems on the up-and-up, but for all you know, he could be in cahoots with your stalker. A tag-team sort of thing--he pretends to be your savior and leads you to an alley where he and his buddy take turns with you. Your anxious mind spins possibility after possibility, each more awful than the last. You try to twist a little to catch a glimpse of the man following you, but the string bean’s grip on your shoulders is like iron. For now, you have no choice but to trust this mystery man.

For several minutes, you walk in step, the tall stranger at your side occasionally muttering words of comfort into your ear.

“It’s okay, I’m not gonna let him fuckin’ hurt you, I promise.” “Fucker’s been following us for like ten minutes.” “I’m gonna knock his fuckin’ teeth in.”

The minutes seem to drip by at a snail’s pace. By the time your mystery stranger guides you into a nearby alley, you’re trembling with nerves. Whatever’s coming is not going to be pleasant, you can already tell. Your hand slips into the pocket of your coat and closes around the switchblade inside. As the cold steel presses into your palm, you feel a modicum of relief, and your racing pulse slows a little.

About halfway down the alley, your stranger comes to a stop. His arm slips from your shoulders and as he turns to face your stalker, he gently pushes you behind him with one hand. Your fingers latch onto the sleeve of his leather jacket automatically, and it’s startling how much calmer you immediately feel. He flashes you a reassuring glance over his shoulder.

The stalker also comes to a halt, several feet away, and the two of them stare one another down.

“Alright, shit-for-brains, it’s about time you fucked off, yeah? They’re not interested in whatever you’re selling,” snarls your stranger.

“Why don’t you let them speak for themselves, then?” rasps the stalker, his voice sending a chill down your spine, and he takes a step forward. “Maybe if I hear it from their mouth--”

“Come any fuckin’ closer and you’re gonna be eating your own goddamn teeth,” replies your stranger, his stance widening a little as he prepares for the inevitable scuffle.

“How about you make me, you fuckin’ qu--”

The rest of the stalker’s sentence, however, is interrupted. In one lightning-fast movement, your stranger lunges for the stalker and tackles him to the ground. Frozen in terror, you can only watch on as they wrestle like two feral dogs, snarling and yelling and grunting. They trade blows for several minutes--your stranger getting in several good hits for every one of your stalker’s. Every punch and kick your stranger takes makes you flinch, but it only seems to spur him on until he’s practically rabid. Eventually, your beanpole savior is victorious, cackling like a madman as your would-be rapist runs off with his tail between his legs.

Breathing hard and sporting a rapidly purpling bruise on his cheek, your savior levers himself onto unsteady legs with a grunt. Wiping blood from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, he shouts after the hastily retreating stalker.

“Yeah, you better run, you piece of shit coward! If I ever catch you around here again, I’ll fuckin’ gut you like a goddamn pig and wear your entrails as a scarf!”

The adrenaline seems to drain from him all at once. Slowly, he turns back to you, and spits blood onto the pavement. Suddenly, he looks absolutely exhausted.

“You okay?” he asks, in a rough voice.

Your heart swells. This strange, gangly man just took a vicious beating for you and has the temerity to ask if you’re okay. Slowly, you approach him, fish out a tissue from the pack you keep in your pocket, and reach out to wipe the blood from his face. He flinches a little as you press on his bruise, but his eyes are gentle as they regard you.

“I’m okay, thanks to you.” Gently, you wipe him clean. “What’d you do that for?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t just sit back and let something like that happen, could I? The fuck kinda dickhead wouldn’t step in when someone was in trouble?” He tries to wrinkle his nose, but it just turns into a wince of pain. He clears his throat. “...Anyway, uh... it was no trouble, really.”

“You’d better let me take you home and clean you up,” you say quietly, ghosting a thumb over his lip.

His brow furrows a little and his eyes become wary. “You don’t gotta do that, I’m fine.”

“I know,” you reply, and give him a little smile. “I want to, though. What’s your name?”

“...Mary. Mary Goore.”

[hunxi-guilai]

I'm the 海内存知己 anon back with ANOTHER poem (sorry). So I came across 行路难三首 and the line 大道如青天，我独不得岀 reminds me of wwx, esp in ep29 when he says something like "there isn't a 阳关道 that allows me to protect those I want to protect"- the line is basically the situation he was in. In the same set of poetry is also the line 且乐生前一杯酒，何须身后千载名 which reminds me of the two wwx related alcohol lines you've posted about before (the idea of "what the heck, I'll drink first and deal with life later")

okay listen anon, you can’t just come into my askbox quoting 李白 Li Bai without some WARNING first

all righty so some context for folks who aren’t familiar with the greatest Chinese poet of all time*, Li Bai is a fucking ICON. Poet. Swordsman. Hermit. Drunkard. Li Bai, in my head, is the ULTIMATE poetic mood for Wei Wuxian, and yes this is a hill I will die on.

(* the asterisk is so I can say “joke’s on you, Li Bai and Du Fu actually trade off on that title, and also we’re pretty sure Li Bai was central Asian, not Han Chinese, so HAH”)

Receipts? Damn right I got receipts (by which I mean anon’s got the receipts)

The poems anon mentioned,《行路难三首》Three Poems on Difficult Roads, is a collection of three Li Bai poems written as he confronts his frustrated political ambitions; throughout the poems, he comes to the various conclusions that 1) the muddied world simply does not appreciate his upstanding and unique genius, 2) it’s not worth it to get involved in the messiness of court politics ft. many many historical examples of worthy men of service whose stories ended badly, and 3) he’ll drink to that, thanks.

I’m not going to translate all three poems, but some highlights!

其一 / the first

金樽清酒斗十千，玉盘珍羞直万钱 / The clear liquor in the golden goblet is worth a thousand taels; the delicacies on the jade plate costs ten thousand taels

停杯投箸不能食，拔剑四顾心茫然 / I hold the cup, cast aside my chopsticks, I cannot eat; I draw my sword, looking about at a loss

欲渡黄河冰塞川，将登太行雪满山 / I wish to ford the Yellow River, stop up the waters with ice; I want to climb up the snow-covered sides of the Taihang Ranges

闲来垂钓碧溪上，忽复乘舟梦日边 / An idle worthy once trailed a fishhook in a stream; another daydreamed in a boat by the riverside*

行路难！行路难！多歧路，今安在？/ The road is hard! The road is hard! There are many forks in the road; where am I today?

长风破浪会有时，直挂云帆济沧海 / There will be time enough to ride the wind and waves; until then, I raise the sails and cross the deep seas, headed for the low-hanging clouds.

god Li Bai is so good at that...高昂 elevated，豪放 unrestrained style. Just the sweeping scope of this poem...gosh.

(* yes these are references. yes I am also too tired to explain them)

其二 / the second

大道如青天，我独不得出 / The great way is as broad as the clear sky, yet I alone do not walk out on it

...

行路难，归去来 / The road is hard! Return, go home!

brb SCREAMING about the wide and sunny way and 魂兮归来 at the same time

其三 / the third

...

含光混世贵无名，何用孤高碧云月？/ When one holds light within in this muddied world, prize namelessness; what use is there to sit, high and alone, amidst the clouds and moon?

我观自古贤达人，功成不退皆殒身 / I look at the worthies, from ancient times to today; those who did not retire after achievement all lost their lives

子胥既弃吴江上，屈原终投湘水滨 / [Wu] Zixu was discarded into the Wu River; Qu Yuan, in the end, flung himself into the Xiang waters from the shores

...

君不见吴中张翰称达生，秋风忽忆江东行 / My lord, do you not see how Zhang Han of Wuzhong truly understood life; when the autumn winds blew, he suddenly thought of home, and departed for Jiangdong

且乐生前一杯酒，何须身后千载名？/ What joy can be found in a single cup of wine; why seek leaving a name for oneself in a thousand years?

gosh, I mean, I know there’s no government in the world of CQL, but Wei Wuxian would’ve been such a great travelling Daoist poet-swordsman oh my god

Bonus Round, 《将进酒》, another Li Bai classic, aka one of my favorite poems in existence

君不见，黄河之水天上来，奔流到海不复回。

君不见，高堂明镜悲白发，朝如青丝暮成雪。

人生得意须尽欢，莫使金樽空对月。

天生我材必有用，千金散尽还复来。

烹羊宰牛且为乐，会须一饮三百杯。

岑夫子，丹丘生，将进酒，杯莫停。

与君歌一曲，请君为我倾耳听。

钟鼓馔玉不足贵，但愿长醉不复醒。

古来圣贤皆寂寞，惟有饮者留其名。

陈王昔时宴平乐，斗酒十千恣欢谑。

主人何为言少钱，径须沽取对君酌。

五花马，千金裘，呼儿将出换美酒，与尔同销万古愁。

Do you not see the waters of the Yellow River from on high 

       surging down to sea, never to return?


Do you not see the elder generation sighing over their hair,

      in the morning as dark strands,


      in the evening already white as snow?


Happiness in a human life ought to be enjoyed to the utmost;

      raise not this wine cup empty to the moon.


My god-given talent has a purpose in this world,

      even if you scattered a thousand gold coins to the wind,

      they would still return.


But for now, we feast on lamb and ox to make merry,

      tonight, we'll drink at least three hundred cups.


Come, Cen-fuzi, Danqiu-sheng - drink with me, let our cups never still.

I will sing a song for you –

      turn your ears and listen carefully to what my song has to say:


Sonorous bells, magnificent drums, rare delicacies, fine jade - none

      are precious enough to win my heart,

      and yet, I'd gladly drown in drunkenness


      and never wake again.


All the sages and men of talent since ancient times have always walked

      alone; only the drinkers among them have left behind their names


The warrior-king Chen, in days of old, held magnificent banquets at Pingle,

      Uninhibited, they would down flagon after flagon

      Unheeding of the cost, so drunk on jubilation.


My dear host, why do you speak of lacking money?

      Go, go fetch more wine to pour for me.


Your five-flowered horse, your fur coat of a thousand gold--

      call your boy out to exchange them for wine,


      and with me, drink away the sorrows of the ages.


fuck I almost forgot how much I love this poem

[alternatewarning]

Static Radio - Whumptober 2020 Fic

Entry number 13 and 21 for Whumptober 2020: Breathe In Breathe Out and I Don’t Feel So Well/Chronic Pain

Title: Static Radio Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairing: Prompto/Noctis Rating: T Trigger Warnings: Major character death, coughing up blood Summary: After Noctis defeated Ardyn and took the throne, Insonima has been working hard to build itself back up. There is always work to do for everyone, from citizen to Crownsguard. Trying to be the king of a kingdom in ruins was a hard task, a busy task, which is why Prompto couldn't really catch his best friend to talk to him in private. To tell the now-king that his best friend was dying.

Cross posted to Ao3

Prompto hunched over in a corner of the Citadel, covering his mouth with his elbow as he coughed loudly, the force causing his entire body to shake. He was already running late for the meeting he was supposed to attend and this wasn’t helping. After the second round of lung-scarring coughs wracked through his chest, he took a moment to try and compose himself. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, purposefully ignoring the dark red stain that was now setting into his jacket. His jacket was black so no one would notice. After forcing himself to breathe normally he straightened his clothes and went back to panicking about running late.

“When are you planning to tell Noctis?” Prompto was rudely awoken from his daydreaming by Ignis’s soft tone. He blinked, looking around the meeting room. Everyone was filling out already so clearly he’d checked out and missed the last half hour of the meeting. And now it was just him and the advisor leaning against the desk in front of him.

“Tell him...what? Exactly?” Prompto knew he was playing dumb and it would get him absolutely nowhere. If anyone could figure out what was going on with literally no information, it would be Ignis. The older man let the tension hang between them, a silent sigh.

“About your condition. This has already been going on for months. You’re on a strict timeline.” The blond wanted to frown. Some day, just once in his life, he wanted Ignis to be wrong about something. But, as always, he somehow put together all the pieces of a puzzle that no one else seemed to even notice was there just yet. How a blind man managed to figure out something was physically wrong with him was completely beyond his comprehension but he knew better than to try and figure it out. Ignis could do anything he wanted it by stubbornness alone.

“I’ll tell him. Just, the right time hasn’t come up yet. Don’t worry about it.”

“How could I not worry? It is none of my business but Prompto…”

“I know, I’ll tell Noct. Just, gimmie some time.” Prompto knew time was the one thing he didn’t have. And clearly, the advisor knew it as well but he said no more. With a small nod, Ignis excused himself, leaving behind enough doubt in his wake that it didn’t even seem like he left. He was right (he was always right). Time was running out if he was going to tell Noctis. But how did one tell their best friend they were dying?

Normally Prompto would spend his afternoon training, working, taking pictures, or maybe going out drinking. There was a lot left to do to rebuild Insomnia and even the rest of the continent beyond that. But today wasn’t one of those days. Instead, he just went home, half collapsing onto his bed, still in his jacket and shoes. His home was little more than an apartment with a bed, shower, and a fridge but he really didn’t need anything else. Especially not now. Not when every bone in his body felt like it was shattering to pieces under his skin.

By the time he hit the mattress he was so exhausted that he wasn’t sure if he could even shift into a better position. Every day was getting harder and harder. It hurt to walk, sit, stand, breathe, exist. He was good at hiding it, of course, hiding things was the one thing that Prompto had managed to completely master. Hiding his feelings, hiding his pain. He didn’t want anyone else to worry. But now the pain had transitioned into something a whole lot worse. Thinking of it seemed to remind his body that his lungs were still in his chest and he rolled onto his knees, a sudden string of coughs ripping through his lungs. Since no one was watching he didn’t bother to hide, Prompto just let the blood splatter onto his mattress.

Once the forceful need to cough had finally faded he ended up coughing more, blood clogging his throat. Ignis was right, he was running out of time. He’d already tried potions and magic, nothing made it any better, nothing took the pain away. Prompto even knew why, he just pretended that he didn’t. He wasn’t wounded or ill, he was breaking down. Magitek soldiers weren’t cloned to live long lives. They were supposed to be created and then demonized so quickly it didn’t matter how long their bodies could survive. He was just reaching the end of his shelf life.

Even for Prompto, who had retained best friend status even through ten years of separation, it was hard to get time with Noctis alone. There was always something. And no one could blame him for that. He was rebuilding an entire kingdom, one brick at a time. So when Noctis was running late he couldn’t really hold it against his friend. Instead, he just waited, watching. He’d chosen to meet at the fountain, a landmark for most people, but to them it was special. As teenagers they’d spent a lot of time here, goofing off, talking about school, talking about life. It was where Nocits told him about his marriage to Luna; it was where he told Noctis about how lonely he was sometimes, jealous, that Noctis had so many people who loved him. It seemed like a fitting place to talk.

While he was sitting there, just watching people walk by, a piece of trash was blown by the wind. It hit the gunman in the face who let out a huff, grabbing the plastic with a little more force than necessary. It was an empty chip bag. He almost yelled about people littering a city they were still putting back together when he noticed the bottom of the bag. It had a date stamped on it, the best by date. Prompto ‘hmmed’ under his breath. He was no different from a mass-produced bag of chips. Except he was sticking around way past his best by date.

“Sorry I’m late, what did you want to talk about? I hope it’s qu...Prompto? Are you okay?” Noctis hurried up to his friend, the tone of his voice trailing from rushed to worried. He’d know that whatever Prompto wanted to talk about was serious, he wouldn’t have suggested meeting at the fountain otherwise, but there was clearly something wrong. He looked pale, haggard, in a way that the king had never seen before. And he’d seen his friend chased by daemons, climbing a mountain, running for his life, and kidnapped and tortured by Ardyn.

The blond let out a heavy sigh before lifting his head and smiling at his friend, even if it didn’t meet his eyes. He tossed the empty bag over his shoulder, letting the wind carry it away.

“I’m fine.” The lie deflated before it even left his mouth. “Okay, I’m not exactly fine. But that’s why I wanted to talk. Um…” He bit down on his lip, trying to sort out of how to say this. He should have decided that ahead of time but good ideas were never his strong suit.

“Ya know how when stuff gets mass produced it’s not necessarily very high quality?” Prompto offered what seemed like a change of subject. Noctis slowly walked over and sat next to him on the edge of the fountain. Just like when they were in high school.

“Yeah. Prompto…”

“Well, if you remember, I um. I kinda…” Blue eyes looked up and met the king’s looking back at him. He wanted to just leave off there, let the rest stay unsaid. The look, the pity in Noctis’s eyes said that he knew where this was going, he understood. But he didn’t stop Prompto, he let him continue. He wanted him to continue. He needed to head the words.

“I’m dying, Noct. I’m breaking down. It’s been over a year and it’s just getting, well, bad. Like real bad. And I-” Prompto felt himself get cut off by a sensation against his mouth. It took his brain much too long to register that he was no longer talking because he was being kissed. It took even longer for his brain to catch up on why this was such a bad idea, but he ignored that part of his inner monologue and just kissed back.

“I’m not going to let you die.” Nocits spoke but Prompto barely heard it through the blood rushing by his ears. He could still feel the cool lips against his, the scratch of Noctis’s stumble against his cheek.

“We, you, um, what just happened?” The gunman looked around, almost expecting someone to jump out with a video camera. But nothing happened. A few passers-by were giving him an indecipherable look but that much was to be expected. The king had just kissed him. Suddenly. In public.

“Prompto.” Noctis took one of his hands, intertwining their fingers like lovesick teenagers. “I’m not going to let you die. I want to know why you didn’t tell me before but I’m sure you had your reasons. I’m going to fight tooth and nail for you, you know that. So come on. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

For a few short seconds Prompto just blinked. He’d thought about this conversation all night. He’d planned out what to say, not that he’d remembered any of his plans once he started talking, and he had tried to prepare himself for Noct’s response. He was prepared for sadness, anger, disappointment. Not for a kiss. Not for the king to look him in the eyes and promise to try and find a way to help him.

“Noct, I mean, um, thanks?” He couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, how much he spent every day wanted nothing more than for it to end because then he could go back to bed, none of that mattered. Not compared to this. To Noct smiling at him, holding on just tight enough that it said ‘I’m not letting go’.

Just as Prompto stood up so they could walk back to the Citadel together he felt it. The familiar tickle. It started as nothing more than an annoyance but blossomed into a full-blown need in only a few seconds. He pulled his hand away from the king’s long enough to cover his mouth as he started to cough, hacking loudly as his entire body trembled with each breath. He felt droplets of blood splatter across his fingers as black dots started to appear in his vision. He couldn’t stop coughing.

“Come on Prom, you’re okay. Come on, breathe!” Noctis helped him kneel on the ground, his entire world out of focus. All he could pay attention to was the burn in his chest and the wet droplets against his hands. He had to hold on, just a little bit longer. He wasn’t going to let himself die, not after Noctis, not after he realized that he might actually have a chance.

“Come on, Prom, breathe. You’re okay just keep breathing. We need help, can someone get us help!” Noctis yelled to the people around them, a few of which were quickly running off. Hopefully to get someone. The king felt his friend fading in his arms. He was coughing less and less, but not because he didn’t need to, but because he was passing out.

“Prompto!” Noctis lifted the other man in his arms, just as he saw some of the new Crownsguard rushing over. Maybe they couldn’t save him just yet, but if they could just keep him alive then they would have time. They just needed more time.

[isitandwonder]

@tequilatuesdays4all Thank you for the tag game - and @etal-later for the addition!!!

Step 1:  Write down ten favourite characters from ten different pieces of media. and number them 1 through 10 BEFORE you click on the cut below. Don’t look at the qus first or you’ll spoil the fun. Then answer as many qus as you want.

1) Sherlock Holmes

2) Paul Atreides

3) Mr Spock

4) Evelyn Carnahan

5) Dante Quintana

6) Billy Sive

7) Guy Bennett

8) Ford Prefect

9) Jane Marple

10) Columbia

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

Have you ever read a Six/any of the others fic? Do you want to?

No/Yes! Do you think Four is hot? How hot?

VERY hot! What would happen if Ten got Eight pregnant?

No one would be surprised, really, esp not those two. Can you rec any fic(s) about Nine?

Uhm... no, but I’m sure there are a lot! Would Two and Six make a good couple?

HAHAHAHAHAA - no Five/Nine or Five/Ten? Why?

I think Dante is more into guys but, hey, why not a Harold & Maude style with him and Jane Marple, so 5/9!? Make up a summary for a Three/Ten fic.

Mr Spock accidentally time travels and finds himself at Frank N’Furter’s mansion. Intrigued by the apparent lack of sexual boundaries he starts to explore the customs with his very own logical approach until a young, strange groupie introduces him to the ‘creatures or the night’... (Oh god I’m sorry!) Is there any such thing as One/Eight fluff?

As there’s tentacle porn - why not? Suggest a title for a Seven/Nine hurt/comfort fic

The spy who loved the spinster What kind of plot device would you use if you wanted Four to deflower One?

Lock them up in an Egyptian tomb What might Ten scream at a moment of great passion?

Eddie! If you wrote a song-fic about Eight, which song would you choose?

Space Oddity What warnings would have to use for a One/Six fic?

Major Character Death What might be a good pick-up line for Two to use on Ten?

Can I spice up your life? (Sorry again) What is Five’s kink?

Tennis shoes and kissing Would Four do Nine? Drunk or sober?

Yes, drunk If Three and Seven get together, what are the tags?

Enemies to lovers, bottom!Guy Bennett, bdsm, dirty talk, long-distance relationship One and Nine are in a happy relationship until Nine suddenly runs off with Four. One, broken-hearted, has a hot one-night stand with Three and a brief unhappy affair with Ten, then follows the wise advice of Five and finds true love with Two. What title would you give this fic? Name three people on your friends list who might read it. Name one person who should write it.

Sherlock Holmes and Jane Marple  are in a happy relationship until Jane runs off with Evely Carnahan. Sherlock,  broken-hearted, has a hot one-night stand with Mr Spock  and a brief unhappy affair with Columbia,  then follows the wise advice of Dante Quintana  and finds true love with Paul Atreides.

Jesus fuck me, okay: I’d name this masterpiece Finding My Blue-Eyed Carbuncle. No idea who would read such a thing..., maybe @missmuffin221, @lion-from-the-north and @mylastvow (sorry!) ?

If they were still around I’d love thattoldbroad to write this fic. It would be hilarious!

This was fun!

@cristinasea @opie1205 @workslikeacharmie @kingtimmy @aislingeach-21 @natures-cunning-ways if you want to play.

[elisaphoenix13]

Against All Odds (Ch. 7)

Breathe.

That was the first speck of good advice his mind had given him in the past two weeks, and for once, Scott obeyed. He worked on his breathing once he realized he had stopped, and then focused on the situation at hand. Namely that Quill had just asked him out on a date and was still waiting for his answer, but Scott was very close to listening to his flight instinct and running away. Even in the rain. A big part of him would rather risk getting sick all over again than to deal with this.

The small part of him that didn't want to flee was screaming at him to say yes to Quill, and Scott actually tried. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish while he continued to stare into his open locker and flushed red when he felt Quill move just a little bit closer to him. The senior still wasn't touching him but he was so close to Scott that the younger could feel how warm Quill was this close to his back. Even though Quill was boxing him in on one side with one of his arms, all Scott had to do was close his locker, bolt to the right, and run like hell. He may not play any sports but he was smaller and probably still faster than Quill. Supposedly the older teen was the type to rely on brute strength, but Scott hadn't seen him during practice or any of the games, so running was kind of a risk.

Somehow the smaller part of him won out over his flight instinct.

"Cider." Scott finally squeaks out after a couple of minutes of silence.

"What?"

Scott could feel his blush traveling up to the tips of his ears. "Apple cider. Hot cider."

"With donuts?" Quill closes Scott's locker for him when the younger teen nods. "How about now?"

"Now?!" Scott almost screeches.

"Sure. I'm already driving you home so we might as well stop by that coffee shop down the street, and if we don't go now, I have a feeling you'll run off on me." Quill says.

Well...he wasn't totally wrong, and he had a plausible reason to worry about Scott bolting on him. The first time they met, Quill just talked to him and touched him a little bit before he was off like a flash. Then again, being asked on a date was a whole new ball game and Scott was worrying about something else entirely. Was he supposed to act a certain way? All he knew about dates were what he heard from other students and movies and those were really both terrible sources.

"...now?" Scott repeats in a near whisper and Quill seems to catch on to his discomfort.

"Only if you're up to it. If it helps, you can think of it as just hanging out."

"You don't know me very well." Scott argues and shivers when Quill chuckles.

"No, but that's kind of the point. Friends hang out, but people who are interested in being more than friends, date. I've seen enough to be interested." The older teen admits.

Quill was interested. Quill was interested in him, and it had Scott's head spinning. He was legitimately concerned that he might fall over from all of the surprise, but that little part of him that punched his flight instinct just whispered to him that Quill would at least catch him if he did, and that had him blushing even more. He had to be beet red by now.

"...okay." Scott relents with a mumble and then coughs into his sleeve.

Quill moves away from Scott, which actually sends a chill through the younger once he realizes how warm the senior had been, and then looks up at Quill when he holds out a couple of cough drops. Scott takes them with a thanks and unwraps one as he follows Quill to his car, and sucks on the lozenge lazily as he zones out once he gets into the car. That little part of him that was making this date even happen was becoming a bigger part of him and he was getting strangely calm about the date. The part of him that would panic about the repercussions was lost somewhere in the back of his mind, and instead he was convinced that if anything were to happen afterwards, Quill would take care of it. Of him. If Stephen didn't beat him to it first of course.

They both were beginning to radiate safety to Scott, and they both had different ways of doing it. Stephen's safety was more brotherly, but Quill was more than that. He was a physical wall that dared anyone or anything to hurt Scott. The affection Quill gave him while he had been sick just made Scott want to curl up next to him and be held while Stephen's hug was comforting, not romantic.

Scott had told Stephen he would make a great parent if he had any kids, and the other teen just scoffed and told him that he was in no way interested in having kids. He didn't like them.

"...ott...hey. Hey!" Quill nudges Scott's shoulder and the younger looks over at him when the motion startles him out of his thoughts. "You alright?"

"Y-Yeah...sorry. Guess I zoned out."

"We're here. Might want to get inside before the sky decides to take its royal piss."

Quill laughs when Scott scrunches his nose in disgust, and they both scramble out of the car when a few fat drops of rain hit the windshield. They barely made it into the coffee shop when the rain came in a downpour, and Quill pointed to a table as he walked over to the counter to order. The store was warm enough that Scott could pull off his sweater and still be comfortable, so he did that and hung his sweater over the back of his chair before sitting down and grabbing the bowl of creamer cups.

Scott half amused himself by stacking the little cups while waiting for Quill to come back with their order, and when stacking lost its appeal, he turned it into a bowling game. He stacked them across the table, kept one for himself, and stuck his tongue out just the tiniest bit as he aimed and then flicked the creamer cup toward the others. It, of course, sailed right over the top of the small pyramid on the other side of the table and landed on the chair and Scott huffed as he leaned over the table to retrieve the stray creamer. By the time he sat back down, Quill was coming over with their drinks and a plate with half a dozen donuts, so he returned the creamers to their bowl just as Quill put everything down and sat across from him.

"I could give you pointers." Quill jests and Scott snorts.

"I'll pass, thanks." He grabs his mug of cider and shivers as the heat of the mug warms up his cold fingers. "Sports are your thing."

"My thing, huh?" Quill asks as he grabs one of the donuts and bites into it and Scott leaned forward curiously to see what Quill had ordered for himself. "Hot chocolate. It's a little late for coffee."

"What about your homework?" Scott asks as he sits back. He takes a sip of his cider and jolts back from the scalding liquid with a wince.

"If you don't mind me staying a little later we can still get it done." Quill answers. "This hour is just for us though."

And it was an hour of perfection. It was quiet, Christmas music played through the cafe, and they polished off the donuts and their drinks as they shared stories. Quill talked most of the time as Scott didn't have any stories to tell, but he was still surprisingly attentive to Scott's mood. If he got too quiet, he'd ask him questions, even if it was as simple as asking what Scott's favorite movie was. When he ran out of questions (for the time being), Quill grabbed the bowl of creamers and picked up where Scott had left off. It didn't take long for the younger to cave and his second attempt sent the cup flying over the pyramid again and hitting Quill right smack in the middle of his forehead.

Instead of apologizing like he normally would have done, Scott laughed instead. Quill just grinned as he dramatically rubbed his forehead from the painful assault, and when he looked at Scott, the younger saw that weird flash in the senior's eyes again. His laughs slowly died down as he tried to figure out what he witnessed, but even though there were windows all around the coffee shop, there had been no lightning. The lights of the shop hadn't flickered, and Scott definitely wasn't tired after the sugar they consumed and it left him wondering.

What the fuck?

"Something on my face?" Quill asks and Scott shakes his head.

"No. It's nothing." It was something, but Quill might just think he was crazy. Scott was already starting to feel a little loony.

"Want to head to your house now? We've been here a little longer than an hour."

"What? Really?" Scott looks at the clock on the wall by the counter. They'd been here for an hour and a half. "Oh yeah. We still have to work on your math."

The teens grab their sweaters and leave the shop, and just as they step into the parking lot, he hears Quill yell his name. Wasn't he right next to him? Why did that sound like it was coming from behind him? Why was he-

The air in Scott's lungs leave in one giant woosh as arms wrap around his middle and pull him out of the way of an oncoming car just in the nick of time, and he instinctively grabs onto the arm of his savior. He was almost hit by a car in the parking lot. The car wasn't going that fast but it was dark out and Scott was stupidly wearing dark clothes so the driver probably didn't even see him. Now his heart was thundering in his chest, and so was Quill's, who was the one pressed up against his back and holding him tightly after saving Scott from possible major injury.

"Thank you." Scott manages to whisper and doesn't even startle when Quill drops his forehead to the shorter teen's shoulder.

"No problem." Quill wheezes. "Just promise to feed me if I can't feed myself past thirty since that shaved ten years off of my life."

"That sounds fair." Scott replies with a weak laugh.

It took a couple more minutes for their hearts to slow to their normal rates, and then they parted (reluctantly on Scott's end) to finish their trek back to the car. They climbed in and Quill drove them to Scott's house, and they grab their backpacks from the back seat before rushing to the front door through the still pouring rain. Scott fumbles with his keys with cold fingers and swears under his breath when his shivering keeps him from putting the key into the lock, and Quill finally relieves him of the task when he notices Scott's teeth chattering. The three minutes they stood in the rain after Quill pulled him out of the way of a moving vehicle was enough to soak them, and thirty seconds at the door just made him cold. Quill certainly did run warmer so he was able to shove the key into the lock and unlock the door, and they trip over each other in their rush to get inside.

"Hey, hey! You're gonna--oh fuck!" Quill shouts as he falls forward and Scott yelps as he falls back.

Somehow in the middle of their fall, Quill still managed to grab the back of Scott's head before it connected with the hard floor, and also managed to keep himself from falling on top of the younger by throwing his other arm out and stopping their descent. Football practice was good for other things besides the sport itself it seemed. Quill looks down at Scott with some concern and the younger blushes at the new situation.

If he were paid a dime for every time he blushed today, he could probably pay for college.

"The weather is out to get you." Quill says lamely and Scott bursts into laughter. He didn't miss the strange flash in the elder's eyes again, but he was too busy laughing at the terrible joke to worry about it. Quill had a point though. It made him sick, almost got him run over by a car, and now he almost cracked his head open inside his own home. Not to mention the incident yesterday. The rain didn't seem to want to let up.

"I'll go find you a towel." Scott says after his laughter dies down and Quill gently releases his head to sit up. "Want me to put your clothes in the dryer? I don't have any clothes that will fit you but I can get you a blanket at least."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

It would be better if he didn't use the blanket.

Scott mentally glares at his thoughts and strangles them as he finds a towel and a large blanket after he gets up, and Quill closes the front door. When the younger returns with the promised items, Quill strips down to his boxers and throws his clothes in the dryer as Scott changes into dry clothes up in his room, and Scott throws his own wet clothes into the dryer before turning it on. He finds the older teen looking at the fireplace in the living room curiously, and Quill turns to look at him.

"Have you ever used that?"

"A little. Just small fires though since I'm not usually down here long enough. Until now that is." Scott shrugs. "There's a few logs if you want to build a fire. My hands are cold anyway."

Quill took him up on his offer and built a fire in the fireplace and the living room was soon warming up from it. Scott sighed contentedly as his body starts to thaw out, and the older teen joins him at the coffee table with his homework and gets to work on it. Quill didn't need as much help as he used to, but newer stuff that came up still confused him at times, and he was quick to catch on once Scott explained things an easier way. That's how it always was. Teachers usually taught by the book, and very few took the time to teach students an easier way whenever they got a deer in the headlights look from them. The few that didn't take the time didn't care and were setting their students up to fail.

It was annoying.

"Your hands are still cold?" Quill suddenly asks after their hands brush when Scott pushes his notebook back to the senior.

"They're warming up."

"It's been half an hour. Here." Quill reaches out and holds one of Scott's hands in between both of his. "They were colder than this?!" When Scott nods, Quill runs his hand up part of the younger's forearm and frowns. "No wonder you're still recovering from your cold."

Scott watches Quill curiously when he releases his arm and stands up with his blanket, and the older teen sits on the couch and holds one side of the blanket open.

"Come here."

"What?"

"I'm going to help you get properly warmed up for once in your life." Quill answers with a huff.

"...how?" Scott asks timidly.

"Nothing extreme, I promise. If you don't like it, you can go away whenever you want. I won't stop you."

So far Quill hadn't given Scott a reason not to trust him, so he did join him on the couch after some hesitation. He actually had to agree with the lewd part of his mind that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to snuggle up to a half naked Quill by the fireplace, and let the older teen wrap his arm and the blanket around Scott once he sat down. The tv was turned on to help dispel any awkwardness, and as the minutes dragged by, Scott felt himself being drawn to the heat Quill's body provided. Like a moth to a flame.

He really did start warming up too. Not just the outside, but down to his bones to and Scott felt wonderful. He felt calm and even had to stop himself from dozing off, but he eventually lost that battle five minutes in. He was surrounded by warmth, the smell of cinnamon, and even the low purr of what sounded like a large cat. He stayed in that comfortable bubble of contentment, safety, and consciousness for a while, and when he finally opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at Quill's collarbone. Quill must have lowered them comfortably into a lying position once Scott dozed off and then fell asleep himself, because the tv had turned off automatically and the fire had died down to glowing embers. Just as Scott was about to drop back off into his comfortable bubble (after discovering the purr he heard in his sleep was in fact Quill snoring; that was hot), realization hits him. The tv was set to turn off at midnight.

Scott looks up at the digital clock on the stand by the couch and gently shakes Quill when it reads half past one. "Quill!"

"What?" The older teen groans out sleepily.

"It's past one in the morning! We fell asleep! You should've been home hours ago!"

"'T's fine. I'll just call my grandpa in the morning and tell him I fell asleep. It's happened a couple times at my friends' houses before." Quill mumbles.

"...are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go back to sleep Sugar." Quill slurs and falls back to sleep seconds later, leaving Scott to stare at him in shock.

Did Quill just give him a pet name? Was he even aware of it? It made Scott's entire body flush with heated embarrassment and shyness, but he found himself hoping that Quill meant it. Even after only a week and a half of knowing each other. He didn't mind the name, and he also wouldn't be totally surprised of Quill had no recollection of it in the morning, but he wasn't going to crawl out from under the blanket and away from Quill's warmth. He was far too comfortable and being held against the older teen was lighting his touch deprived nerves ablaze. Scott couldn't get enough.

Even if this didn't work out, he was going to enjoy the affection Quill gave him for as long as it lasted. It would be worth anything life threw at him at this point, because for once in his lonely existence…

...he felt wanted.

[randomoranges]

interesting story - last night when i was looking for another old fic to repost, i eventually opened this one up and i COULD NOT remember WHAT THE HELL the plot WAS for like HALF THE GOD DANGED THING, until i got to like the last part? and then i was like OHHHHH - RIGHT! anyways. here it is!

Perfect Cities Guilt

 Edward bounced back on the balls of his feet and waited for Étienne to open the front door. His friend didn’t know he was visiting – or at least Edward had called to warn him, but Étienne hadn’t been returning his calls since the start of the month and that was mostly why he had booked a flight to Montréal.

 He had called Élyse to see if she knew anything about her brother’s erratic behavior and Edward had been relieved when she had told him that she had seen him recently. However, he had seemed off.

 In Étienne’s world that could mean a myriad of things from the Viateur being out of poppy seed bagels, to Montréal’s latest language debacle and everything in between.

 Not wanting to take chances, and being slightly (read very) worried, Edward had decided to visit. And maybe there was the fact that he missed the bugger.

 Edward rang again and started to wonder if Étienne was even home. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he wasn’t and he momentarily berated himself for acting so impulsively. It’s not as if Étienne lived for his visits. His friend had a life, after all. He could be out and about – hell he could be on vacation for the next two weeks and Edward would look like a right old fool sitting on Étienne’s front porch waiting for him.

 Finally, after ringing the bell a third time, he took the spare key from underneath the doormat and let himself in. He didn’t normally like using the key, even though Étienne had often told him he could. He was always afraid he might be intruding or interrupting something, but – he was really worried and he did have permission.

 He immediately noticed that the apartment wasn’t the chaotic mess he had once found it in and that was a relief. If anything, it meant either he had arrived at the start of Étienne’s downward spiral, or that he just hadn’t cleaned up.

 When he stepped further in, he found various boxes of takeout food littering the dining area and none of it seemed mouldy. Edward sighed and cleared off a chair, before he dumped his bag and jacket. He took a moment to assess the rest of the apartment and it was only then that he heard faint noise coming from the living room.

 Edward quickly made his way there and at first he thought Étienne had left his television on and his laundry on the couch, but upon further examination, it turned out that the laundry was a living pile of blankets that contained one Étienne Maisonneuve.

 “There you are.” Edward chided as he closed the television and then pulled away some of the blankets so that he could sit beside his friend.  

 Étienne’s eyes widened in surprise but then he looked away furrowing his face in the pillow. Edward frowned. That had not been the reaction he was expecting. Normally, Étienne would have launched himself at him in a gravity defying, bone crushing hug that would knock the wind out of him but would bring a smile to his face. This wasn’t like Étienne and Élyse’s words returned to him – Étienne seemed off.

 “Étienne? Are you okay?” He didn’t look injured, but Edward had learnt a long time ago that Étienne’s wounds ran deep and internally. He put on a brave face and preferred for no one to come and scratch at the surface.

 A shrug came from the pile of blankets and for now, it had to be good enough. Edward sat with him for a moment and waited, in case Étienne enlightened him on anything that was going on. Instead, in a very surprising gesture, after about five minutes or so, Étienne reached out for Edward’s hand and clung to it tightly. Edward remained seated, stunned, and intrigued as to what could have transpired in Étienne’s life and held his hand back. He didn’t normally show weakness this way.

 After a while, Étienne dozed off, still holding on to Edward’s hand and Edward decided to do some tidying up and start some dinner. Étienne needed real food and maybe some good old TLC would get him back to his usual gregarious self.

 --

 “Edward?” Étienne asked, voice still groggy with sleep, hours later.

 Edward looked away from his boiling pot of soup and took in the sight before him. Étienne was still wrapped up in at least two of his blankets and he looked slightly un-kept, disheveled, and confused.

 “You’re up.” Edward offered as an answer.

 “You’re here?  How?” He asked, reaching out for him, as if he wanted to make sure that he was real.

 “Airplanes.  The 20th century sure brought us some great inventions.”

 Étienne ignored the jibe and instead shuffled his way closer to Edward.  Edward wasn’t sure what Étienne was going to do but he was once again surprised when his friend wrapped his arms around his neck - blankets and all - and held on to him tightly.  

 “You’re really here.” He murmured. “I thought... I thought I dreamt it earlier.”

 “No, I’m here.  And soup’s almost done.  How about we watch a movie afterwards?” He asked calmly, bringing a hand to his back to rub it soothingly.

 Étienne nodded against his shoulder and remained perched against him. Edward didn’t say anything and gently manoeuvred them to the now clean kitchen table to let Étienne sit before he returned with the soup.  

 Homemade soup always did wonders and some colour returned to Étienne’s face after a few spoonfuls. Edward noticed that he didn’t eat with as much gusto as he normally did and he also noticed that Étienne looked ...  thinner, despite the countless takeout containers he had thrown out earlier. This wasn’t like Étienne and it pained to see him this way.

 Edward vowed he would stay until he figured out what was wrong with Étienne.

 Once the dishes were cleared, Edward joined Étienne in the living room and carved himself a spot in the midst of blankets. Étienne curled himself around him and let him choose a movie. He felt Étienne relax against him and tightened his hold on him. Edward hoped, as he carded his fingers through Étienne’s curly locks that with a few days of care, Étienne would be back to his usual boisterous self.

 --

 It didn’t work.

 Edward thought for sure that by now, three days later and with the weekend looming, Étienne would have made plans for them to go out and catch up.  It seemed all he wanted to do was cuddle and mope. He didn’t mind the cuddling – it was always nice, but he enjoyed it better when Étienne would smile up at him or regale him with a joke or two. Instead, Étienne was quiet and looked forlorn.  Edward had tried multiple times to get Étienne to talk, but there was nothing to it.

 Étienne kept on getting these far away looks and tears threatened to spill from his eyes now and again. Edward had tried to be comforting, had held him throughout the night when he would tremble and clutch his pillow, but there was not much else he could do, when he didn’t know what was troubling Étienne.

 He was about ready to call it quits or take Étienne by the shoulders and shake him until he told him what was going on, but then just as Edward was coming at wit’s end, Étienne finally started talking.

 “Hey, since you’re still here, would you mind coming with me?  I have to go somewhere and I don’t think I can do it alone.” He looked nervous, if Edward was to judge by the way his hands worked at the sleeve of his shirt and tried to fray holes in it. He seemed jittery as well, unable to hold still and something about his stance suggested a fight or flight reflex ready to be put in action.

 Edward nodded automatically. This shed no light on any of Étienne’s erratic behaviour, but he hoped it would make sense eventually. The mere fact Étienne was suggesting they go out of the apartment had to be worth something.  He sat silently as Étienne got ready and took his keys.  

 He followed his friend to the métro station and thought maybe Étienne would explain along the way, but he didn’t. He remained quiet and sad looking and Edward wanted to hold him tight and make him smile again.  He had never seen Étienne this way for so long and it was disconcerting.

 They switched lines once and then had to take a bus up the mountain. Edward had never seen this side of it and he wondered, not for the first time, where it was they were going. Along the way, Étienne quickly stopped to buy some flowers and that only served to make Edward even more confused.  

 Yet he wordlessly followed him up the hill and through the curving road until they passed through the gates of one of the oldest cemeteries in North America.  

 “Étienne – what’s going on?  Why are we here?” He finally asked, unable to keep his curiosity in check. And it wasn’t just that, but visiting the cemetery was the last place Edward would have ever thought they would go.  

 “We’re almost there...  I’ll explain then. I promise.” He said as he kept walking on, through plots and small winding roads as if he had done this before and often.

 Edward sighed and kept walking as he followed Étienne through the various rows of tombstones. It seemed Étienne knew where he was going and Edward didn’t know what to make of it. He only hoped it would explain Étienne’s melancholic state.  

 They finally stopped, after ten minutes of walking, in front of a plain looking headstone. Étienne had closed himself in yet again and Edward was tired of all of this.  

 “Étienne?” He tried but his friend didn’t seem to have heard him.  

 Instead, Étienne brushed the snow from the top of the stone as the first two tears spilled from his eyes. Edward watched as Étienne’s whole body started shaking and then his legs gave out. He knew, before he heard, that Étienne was sobbing and Edward knelt down beside him, pulling him close. Étienne buried his face in Edward’s jacket and let out one broken sob after the other.  

 “Is this why you’ve been this way all week?  Is it because of whoever is buried here?” Edward asked rubbing Étienne’s back. He was thankful Étienne acknowledged his question, but chagrined for him when he nodded. “Do you – do you want to tell me about it?”

 “He...  We were – a long time ago.” Étienne started and then stopped. He took in a deep shuddering breath and tried to start again. “He was a nice man. His name was Patrice De Bonséjour. He was kind. Understanding. He’d recently moved here when I met him. We clicked almost instantly. He...” Another sob escaped his lips and Étienne tried in vain to wipe the tears from his face.  

 And – oh – it clicked, finally. Étienne had written to him about this man. About a new friend he had made and how wonderful he was. Étienne hadn’t put it black on white how it was he felt, but Edward had read enough of Étienne’s letters to be able to read between the lines. And then, a few years later, there was no more mention of Étienne’s new friend and his letters had taken on a sadder tone, even stopping for a while. It all made sense now.

 “You loved him.”

 It wasn’t a question, but an affirmation. In all the years Edward had known Étienne, even before they started whatever it was they had, he had never seen Étienne so distraught over any one person. Étienne was always the first to boast that love was not for him and that there was no point to it – especially not for their kind and yet here he was.  

 Étienne gave a small hesitant nod and Edward wondered if he had told anyone else about Patrice. About what he had really meant to Étienne. He felt he already knew the answer, but now was not the time for that.

 “It was my fault he died. He died because of me. Because I didn’t think – because I wasn’t careful. I killed him.” Étienne cried out, fresh tears spilling forth as his body shook with heaving sobs.

 Edward looked at him, startled and puzzled. He couldn’t figure out if he meant it metaphorically or honestly. “What do you mean you killed him?”

 “Because of what we are. I never thought I could get sick. So I wasn’t careful – didn’t protect myself when I should have. And I’m sure he got sick because of me. We weren’t... we were with others but it was my fault. And then he died. He died because of me. Because I was stupid.”

 Edward sighed. He felt for Étienne, really, he did. He had seen many of his friends’ die of the same thing. He had attended more funerals than he cared to admit to and he hoped nothing like that would ever happen again. However, accusing himself of murder was not something he had done and not something he thought Étienne should do either.

 He helped Étienne to his feet and brushed the snow off his legs. He handed him a clean tissue from the packet he always carried around and wiped a tear from his cheek with the pad of his thumb.

 “It’s not your fault. You can’t know for sure that you contaminated him – or that you were carrying it.” He started softly. “It could have been you, sure, but if you were with others... I know it doesn’t make it any less painful. It doesn’t make him any less dead, but you can’t beat yourself up over it. I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted you to...”

 Edward tried to be as comforting as possible. Étienne was important to him and he cared about him more than he dared admit sometimes. He worried about him and hated seeing him this way. He knew Étienne could have destructive tendencies and he worried there would come a day when he wouldn’t be able to help him. He hated it. He hated feeling powerless and he hated not being able to heal Étienne’s heart of all the heartache he had lived through and had continuously carried.

 Étienne had once admitted to him, in the dead of the night, that sometimes, when he was reckless with sex, or drugs, or both, he wished it would do him in. Sometimes, he wished that it could all end so that he could finally find peace from the torment of his mind. But their kind could not die, even if their cities burnt down. No matter what happened to their land, they were still there to remember and Étienne had been through his fare share of history to not want to anymore. To be done and over with it. Move on.

 “I know it hurts, but you have to stop thinking this way. You have to stop being so reckless towards yourself... I worry – you have people who care about you.” He corrected himself, not wanting to say too much. “People who don’t want to see you hurt.” He gripped Étienne’s jacket tightly and avoided looking at him, afraid he would reveal too much if he looked into Étienne’s green eyes.

 Étienne remained quiet and placed his flowers in front of Patrice‘s grave. He then walked back to Edward’s side and rested his head on his shoulder. For a moment longer, they remained that way and Edward hoped that his message – what he had said and implied – had been heard.

 FIN 26

Started writing: February 15th 2017, 11:08pm

Finished writing: February 16th 2017, 4:38pm

Started typing: April 22nd 2017, 11:22am

Finished typing: April 22nd 2017, 12:30pm

[shy-badger]

Cyborg stepped as softly as he could. He knew he needed a plan. He wasn't going to get very far without one. Stealth wasn't his strong suit, but he was no stranger to it either.

Before he knew it however, he had reached his destination, still with no plan in mind. Deciding to wing it, Cyborg opened the mechanical door with a barely audible swoosh.

The room was dimly lit thanks to the early morning light peaking in through the blinds. Not quite bright enough for his human eye to see anything, Cyborg relied on his robotic eye to navigate his way to the bed opposite the door.

Carefully he made sure that he placed his foot away from any loud toy, or precarious stack of junk and noticed that he had much more space to work with than he was expecting. Last time he was here, the place looked like a tiny trash heap, now it simply looked like any other teenager's room.

After a tense minute of tip-toeing, Cyborg finally reached his goal. Beast Boy lay in his bed in aware of the multitude of plans being cooked up in his friends head. Cyborg ruminated on the best way to wake up his teammate. He didn't want to rip his covers off, as Beast Boy was known to sleep in the nude. He didn't have any cold water either. So he settled for a jarring musical number.

Cyborg qued up a popular song, set his communicator speaker to play the music, and got ready to press play... Until he noticed something else was off, besides the lack of comedically sized trash piles. The blankets were covering more than one person, he was certain of it. He couldn't see who it was as they were completely covered from head to toe by the soft emerald comforter.

As if on que however, the second inhabitant of the bed rolled over and began cuddling the sleeping shapeshifter, revealing her identity, and nearly giving the cybernetic titan a heart attack.

Beast Boy walked in to the Titan's common room groggy, but content. Seconds later, that would change. Cyborg, Robin, and Starfire all jumped out from their respective hiding spots waving colorful party poppers or flags.

"Surprise!" The three of them shouted, causing the shapeshifter to jump back and shift into the form of a very startled green cat.

After realizing what was going on, Beast Boy changed back.

"What the heck guys? You almost gave me a heart attack. I though you weren't coming back until next week."

Robin stepped forward and handed Beast Boy a party popper. "Well we finished things with the Justice League a bit early. I may have let it slip that your birthday was coming up, and Cyborg decided that since you're always trying to throw us parties, we should throw one for you too."

"Yeah well, we gotta show our little green ball of sunshine some love am I right?" Cyborg said as he slapped Beast Boy on the back hard enough to almost knock him over.

"Come friend! We have set up everything your Earth party needs. We have the sweetened baked goods, the drink known as punch, as well as games. Like the one where you reattach a poor animal's limb." Starfire was pulling Beast Boy buy the arm to display everything she had named, with the infectious joy of a child.

Beast Boy stood shocked for a second before saying anything. "Dudes, this is awesome. Thanks you guys."

Cyborg shrugged. "Of course man." Then he took out his communicator and flipped it open. "Raven says she'll be here in a minute. So I'll grab the ice cream out of the freezer. I didn't put it on the table yet since I figured you probably stayed up late playing video games." He began walking back to the kitchen when he threw under his breath "or you know, other things."

The common room door opened with a swoosh as Raven walked in to join the party. Cyborg called her over to the kitchen as soon as he saw her signature blue cloak.

"Speaking of 'other things.' Mind giving me a hand with this ice cream?"

As Raven walked over to the refrigerator, she gave Cyborg a questioning look.

Cyborg smirked at Raven as he handed her a tub of chocolate ice cream.

"Oh nothin. So how did you and BB get along while we were gone? I imagine three weeks alone with him left you two... at each other's throats."

Cyborg's smirk widened a little as his robotic eye picked up something his human eye couldn't.

A passive scan proved that a spot on her neck was covered in makeup, and was warmer than the surrounding skin, indicating a light injury such as a bruise, or, more likely, a hicky.

"I'll grab the big buckets of Neapolitan and Cookies and Cream, would you bring over those two tubs of sherbet?”

Raven grabbed the two plain looking pails and brought them over to the table where Beast Boy was enthusiastically telling Robin and Starfire about one of the only criminals that had bothered them in the rest of the teams absence. She tried to hide the small smile when she realized that he was exaggerating the whole thing to make raven and himself look better.

Cyborg started to hand out plates of cake and ice cream, giving Beast Boy some lime sherbet, Raven some grape, Starfire some orange, and Robin received some red velvet ice cream. 

They enjoyed talking and eating until Starfire decide to get some of the favorite yellow condiment/ drink from the kitchen with Robin accompanying her. As they took their time, doting on each other as lovers tend to do, Cyborg sat down with a plate that he finally made for himself.

“Dude, You color coded our ice cream but not yours?” Beast Boy asked as he noticed what was on Cyborg’s plate.

Instead of having some sherbet or ice cream that would match his color scheme, Cyborg instead had one scoop of grape sherbet, and one of lime.

“Nah,it was kind of a last minute decision. Besides, I like this combination of flavors.” His tone was becoming more and more teasing. “The contrast actually works well together. Oh sure the lime and the grape may seem and unlikely pair, but you know, I think they belong together.”

Beast Boy and Raven looked at each other, Raven with growing suspicion, Beast Boy with confusion.

“Don’t you two think that they work really well together?” Cyborg teased some more. “I mean, I can’t see one of these and not think of the other now.”

Beast Boy was starting to piece things together when a portal opened up below the three of them dropping them in the main hallway.

“Okay what do you think you’re doing?” Raven said pointing at Cyborg accusingly.

“Rae?” Beast Boy was just getting a grip on his surroundings.

“Oh nothin. Just makin conversation.” Cyborg retorted looking smug.

“Uh huh. I don’t believe you.” Raven replied still pointing.

“Raven come on. You act like I’m going to blow your cover or somethin. Like maybe I discovered something when I snuck into BB’s room this morning to scare him.”

“DUDE!” Beast Boy yelled “You broke into my room?”

“Hey you would have thought it was funny any other time. You’re just mad I caught you with miss cuddle queen over here.”

“Cuddle queen?” Raven seethed.

“Oh yeah. You were REAL cozy with string bean here.” Before either of them could respond, Cyborg raised his hand in surrender. His tone shifting to gentle. “Look, guys, I’m not the enemy here. Honestly, I think that whatever it is you have going on, it’s probably good for you. You two ARE good for each other. I just want to make sure you’re not going to get hurt. Either of you.” 

Beast Boy put on his signature cocky smile. “Relax dude. We know what we’re doing. Raven wants to keep this no stings attached right now and I’m alright with that. Thanks for worrying about us, but we got this. Right Rae?” 

Raven nodded, staring at the floor. If Cyborg didn’t know any better, he would say she was blushing. Cyborg leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“You really sure you don’t want any strings Raven? Or are you just scared?”

Raven didn’t respond, instead sliding her hood over her head. 

Beast Boy wanted to know what Cyborg had said but the doors to the hallway opened to reveal Robin and Starfire looking confused.

“There you three are. We were wondering where you went” Their leader commented.

“Oh yeah. I figured while you two were busy makin out in the kitchen I’d give BB his birthday present.” Cyborg lied. 

“Oh yes! We have the birthing day presents for you as well Beast Boy.” Starfire said clearly excited. “Come Robin, we must fetch them. Friend Raven, did you get a present for Beast Boy or did you not know in time? I would be thrilled to got to the mall of shopping with you to get him one.”

Cyborg cut in for Raven. “Oh don’t worry Star, I’m pretty sure Raven already gave grass stain here a present.” 

Raven hid deeper beneath her hood as Starfire apparently found no issue with that comment and carried her boyfriend down the hall to get the presents in question.

“Dude, really?” Beast Boy shot at Cyborg.

“What? You really think I’m gonna stop making jokes?” Cyborg jabbed back.

The trio returned to the common room while Cyborg told Beast Boy what his present was and that he would give it to him later. After Starfire returned with Robin they all sat down so he could unwrap them. Starfire gave him some strange looking device that she claimed was a ceremonial given to men during their coming of age back home. He still had no idea what it did. Robin had found a collector’s edition of one of his favorite comics, to which he was thanked profusely for. Cyborg eventually found a moment to sneak away and grabbed the present he had promised, one of the new video games that Beast Boy was excited about.

As the night Beast Boy and Raven excused themselves. Raven claiming that she was going to meditate, and Beast Boy bragging about a date he had with what he said was a “total ten on all accounts.”

As they were leaving Robin called out to then. “Have fun on your date you two.”

Beast Boy and Raven both turned around looking mortified. Raven looking to Cyborg like he had betrayed them. Beast Boy stuttering out an unconvincing explanation that he wasn’t going with Raven.

Robin raised one hand calling for silence. “You remember I was trained by Batman Right? Besides, why do you think I chose to leave YOU TWO to stay behind?” He said with a smirk. 

Beast Boy began another shaky attempt at a defense when Raven grabbed his hand and led him out the door. He could have thought she would be mad or upset, but she had a shy smile on her face instead. Beast Boy could help but smile as he waved a farewell back to his team. 

It was a good end to his Birthday.

[aria-writes]

Good Morning Westchester

So here’s the first oneshot I ever wrote that I’ was actually proud of.

prompt used: my best friend dragged me to a party some of the senior football players are throwing and it’s really boring and the only interesting thing is the boy playing beer pong on the patio

Words: 1631

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in life and death and existence and all that. Maybe there's meaning somewhere out there, or maybe there's not. Maybe the people out there doing yoga at mountainside resorts seeking enlightenment are just fooling themselves and others, wasting their time and money chasing something unattainable.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here, as in THIS FLIPPING PARTY FULL OF HUMANS. HUMANS, I TELL YE.

"Hi, I'm Bill Hearst, and this is my colleague, Tyler Josef."

I pasted a well-practiced smile on my face and tuned the oh-so familiar voice out.

Presenting, the reason why. That's my best friend, we've known each other since diapers. Comes from money, but is actually pretty down-to-earth. Though the line starts to blur between eccentric and just plain nuts.

A goth chick looked me up and down. My pastel dress and matching earrings... and nails... and shoes... and purse... probably don't exactly scream 'Tyler'.

"Uh. Nice to meet you both."

I did my best to smile, but I really don't want to be here. I'd rather be reading. Maybe I can hide in the bathroom?

I banished the thought. Who knows what kind of germs are in there.

By the time I fully returned to the real world, the goth girl had left.

I poked Bill on the arm and frowned.

"Why do you always do this?"

"Because it's fun." Bill grinned at me. "I'm still waiting for the first person to question if that's your real name. Besides, gender blender names are all the rage with white suburban soccer moms now. Blake, Spencer, Ryan, Jackson, Connor, Alexander..."

I crossed my arms and waited for him to finish, but he kept going. "Why do you KNOW this?"

Bill shrugged. "Because I google random stuff instead of studying. Noah, Mason, Kyle, Levi, Maxwell, Evan, Oliver, Sebastian..."

I put my hand up to stop him. "Okay, well, Sebastian is a horrible name to give your child, no matter what gender they are."

Bill swung around me and leaned against the wall.

"First of all, Michael, that's offensive to Sebastians everywhere. Secondly, who doesn't want to share a name with a crab?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or was it a lobster?"

Some drunk girl came out of nowhere, running into the wall right next to me.

"Ariiiiana Graaande? Isss that yooouu?" She slurred, reaching out at me a little too enthusiastically for my liking.

I could hear Bill snickering on my other side.

I took a step back, eyes wide. "Very much no."

"Oh." She looked disappointed, then wandered off in a haze.

I shook my head and looked around at the few people milling about.

"This place is so dead. Aren't teen parties supposed to be all, all night rages and burning down houses?"

Bill adjusted his vest and gave me a funny look.

"Don't believe everything you hear. Maybe we should get you somewhere less flammable."

I sighed and leaned against the wall, rolling my shoulders back.

"Is it too much to ask—"

Bill shook his head slightly, cutting me off.

"I am an extrovert, Phineas Taylor, and this may be hard for you to understand, but if I don't get human interaction, I can and will die." He stared at me with complete seriousness.

I furrowed my brows. "...Uh huh."

Bill sighed and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve. "They have a patio? But you have to promise you won't throw yourself into the pool or something crazy like that."

I leaned forward and shook his hand with a little too much enthusiasm. "Deal. Besides, you're more likely to do that than I am."

We weaved around two people arguing about something that had to do with the budget of the student government. I don't understand how people get so invested in this stuff, but okay.

I closed my eyes and leaned out over the balcony as we stepped into the fresh air. "Ah, peace and qu—"

"THIS IS NOT LIKE WII POOL AT ALL!" A high-pitched, but still decidedly male voice yelled.

I raised my head and stared out over the balcony like I was looking into a camera on The Office.

Bill laughed at my disgruntled expression. "You're the only who was complaining about it being boring a few minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't mean... this!" I whisper-shouted and gestured over to a table surrounded by loud teenage boys. Are there any other kind?

Bill elbowed me. "That would be beer pong, my young sheltered friend."

I rolled my eyes.

"Never mind, that's it. Sorry, but I'm jumping in the—" I was about to head down the stairs of the balcony when something caught my eye. Blonde curly hair, greenish eyes (as far as I can tell from here), and a dazzling smile.

Oh no, he's hot.

I was probably staring for ten minutes straight.

"If you're really bored, we can head out." Bill's voice startled me and jolted me out of my thoughts.

"I, uh, wuh?" I stuttered, pulling my eyes away and trying to appear unfazed. "I mean, nah, I can stay."

Bill saw right through that.

"Finally found something that piqued your interest, eh? Or someone?"

He followed my gaze over to where Blondie was receiving instructions from a slightly confused redhead. "Aha." He pushed off the balcony and started walking over to them.

I eyed him suspiciously. "Where are you going, Liam?"

"WOO! AND THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE, SON!" Blondie pumped his fists into his air and danced around in a small circle, whacking his hip against the table in the process. "Ow!"

Bill waved me off. "Don't you trust me?"

Red rolled his eyes. "I'm a year older than—"

Blondie grabbed his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. "Shut up and eat in the moment."

I blinked a few times. "...no? Not really? Willy-Billy, you get back here or I'm going to call you even more embarrassing nicknames for the rest of your life—" I looked to my left and my right, then inched closer.

Red reached up and slowly pushed Blondie's hands off his arms. "It's 'drink in the moment', Race."

Blondie shrugged, seemingly undeterred. "I've heard it both ways."

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "No you haven't."

Bill finally reached the table, grabbing Blondie and Red's attention. I'm too far away to hear what's being said over the general noise. What the heck does he think he's—

Blondie looked over at me and we made eye contact. I felt my face flush as he grinned at me.

Wait just a clock tick, is he moving towards me?

Wait, no, what do I do? What do I say? 'Hi, I want your babies'? Absolutely not. Not that. It's probably too late to run and pretend like I didn't see him, but I'm just standing here frozen. At least I know I won't pass out because you have to have a drop in your blood pressure to faint, and mine has definitely risen. That's not helpful, me! I don't need your useless paramedical facts!

Blondie shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached me.

"So, Halo, right?" Even his voice is drop dead gorgeous, if that makes any sense.

"Guh?" I blinked dumbly.

The only good thing about me currently being rooted to the spot is, I don't think I'm going to fall over at least?

"Your friend said that was your name, Halo, like the angel..." He gestured above his head with a small smile.

...Bill, I am going to murder you.

I scoffed in disbelief and shook my head.

"Yeah, not exactly. He never calls me by my real name, though. I should be glad it wasn't anything embarrassing like 'Princess'." I unconsciously picked at the skin at the edges of my fingernails.

Blondie smiled and leaned forward.

"Eh, I get that. I don't go by my real name, either. Everyone calls me Race. Pleasure to meet you."

You know what? He looks like a male version of Rapunzel. Be still, my heart.

I reminded myself to keep breathing. I tried to lean against the balcony and, I dunno, look cool I guess, but I missed and almost fell over.

I felt my heart leap into my throat as I frantically regained my balance.

"Bwuh— I mean, you too. I mean, me too. I mean, the pleasure is all mine and... Is that short for Eraser?"

Race glanced down and snorted, smirking. "That's a new one. No, it's Racetrack. Racetrack Higgins." He took my hand, lips brushing against my knuckles.

Wow. I'm an idiot. Also, I can feel my whole face going red. Error 404 gateway timeout—

"Oh. Sorry." I clenched and unclenched my free hand in an effort to release tension any way I could.

"You can call me anything you want, doll. Oh, speaking of which," He pressed a slip of paper into my palm and winked. "Call me sometime, hm?"

Have you ever seen someone so beautiful you just started crying? I know it sounds weird, but this one time—

I bit my lip and shifted my weight from one side to the other. "Yeah, um, I will."

"Cool." Blondie– I mean Race– did finger guns at me. "See you around." He headed back in Red's direction.

I smiled, awestruck, then turned and walked away in a bit of a daze. What just happened?

I walked right into Bill.

"Yo, Eminem. What can I say except you're welcome?" He did ridiculous jazz hands, which made me laugh despite everything else.

"Shut up, Billiam. But thanks, I guess." I glanced down at my hand, still smiling. Maybe this whole 'socializing with other human beings' thing wasn't completely awful and pointless after all.