#spent a solid 10 minutes listening hard trying to figure out if he says any other words

[spheredotorb]

hes calling hfor help hes calling for help i can hear him saying カービィ(kirby) and タスケテ(tasukete/"help me") i can tfucking do this

and then the special page text YELLLLSSSSSSSSSS YELLING SCREAMING. SOBBING AUGHGHHHG

"You know, Kirby, I don't really like you. Even when you realized you've been duped, you just sat there with a puzzled stare. I hate having to rely on you so many times... but I don't care anymore. Kirby of the Stars... Hurry, break this thing on my head. Then...kukuku...I can tease you again!"

ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEE

[inlovewithhisblueeyes]

Borrowed

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: Talks about Suicide, Survivor’s Guilt, Depression, Parental Abuse, Panic Attacks, Use of Platonic Pet Names

A/N: Today is my 22nd birthday. I have always had issues regarding my birthday and getting older. I spent 12 years of my life actively wishing I was dead and never expecting to make it to 18. It’s hard for me to understand that I’m still here 4 years after my believed expiry date. I’m getting better each year at dealing with all the feelings that come with my birthday. I’m okay and this piece helped me get out what I struggle with telling others. The nice thing at least is this year I’m not spending this day alone.

You let out a shaky breath as you laid out in the grass. The stars were just barely shining through the cloudy sky above you. The night breeze was still warm enough that you didn’t need a jacket. It would have been a pleasant night if the voices lurking in the back of your mind had taken some time off for once.

Tonight they were screaming at you, louder than ever before. Their voices bounced off the walls your mind, echoing endlessly. The pain in your chest was too much to bare. It was a crushing weight that threatened to flatten you to utter nothingness. No matter what you did to cope it just wasn’t working like it normally would.

Tonight they were screaming at you, louder than ever before. Their voices bounced off the walls your mind, echoing endlessly. The pain in your chest was too much to bare. It was a crushing weight that threatened to flatten you to utter nothingness. No matter what you did to cope it just wasn’t working like it normally would.

You had to swallow down the bile that was trying to creep up your throat. There was an ever present fear seeping from every single pore as you did the one card you had left to play. You didn’t want to do this on tonight of all nights. Hands shaking you type out the words that could save or damn you.

10:28 PM Midnight Picnic. Delivered …. Read ✓

The swell of anxiety becomes too much as you wait for those little dots to appear. You toss your phone next to you as you struggle to hold back tears. The voices seem grow into a roar as the minutes slip away. Everything he ever said to you is stuck on repeat in your head

Burden….

You held him back…

It was your fault…

You ruined his life…

If only you hadn’t been born…

You didn’t deserve to be alive…

They all loved him better than you…

Useless…

Replaceable…

Selfish…

You hadn’t even realized that the tears had burst out, painting your cheeks, your neck, your shirt and most likely staining the ground under you. It’s not until you feel something pressing down on you and warmness chasing the tears off your face that you realize you had been hyperventilating. A soft clicking comes from somewhere behind you as you finally open your tear-blinded eyes. There, resting on top of your shaking form, was a fuzzy face you knew too well.

“Kal, up,” the figure behind you utters,” You gotta let her up, boy.”

The bear of a dog gave a disappointed huff before doing as his master commanded. You felt warm hands gently help you sit up and soon after you feel a solid mass against your back and two long legs incase yours. If anything, the close contact caused your panicking to cease only for a moment. Henry’s arm wrap around your shoulders and he settles you against him. Kal lays himself down by the two of you.

“I’m here for you, Bunny. I know how you might be a little trapped right now, but I want you to try and listen to me alright,” he whispers and waits for the nod that comes between your gasping breaths,” See you’re doing so well already. Remember that exercise your gram does with you. I know you do. Can I help you with it?”

You nod again as you try to unscramble the wires in your brain. You feel his breath tickle the top of your head as he continues to hold you tightly.

“Good bunny. I want you to try and tell me 5 things you can see. Take all the time you need okay?”

“St-t-tars…” You start between gulps, “Grass…..Kal…..uhmmm”

“You can do it, sweetheart,” Henry says as he reaches down and gives your shaking hands a squeeze.

“Your Flops… Trees..”

“Now 4 you can feel.”

“Your Hand…the ground…the breeze…my shirt,” You respond with your voice a bit stronger than before.

“You’re doing great. 3 things you can hear,” Henry adds giving your hands another squeeze.

“You..me..the bugs.”

“We’re almost there. Tell me 2 things you can smell.”

“My lotion and detergent,” You voice, feeling yourself come back even more.

“Last thing. What can you taste?” The Brit asks.

“My tea from earlier,” You sigh slumping into him more.

The two of you remain there, listening to the night’s music. You continue to come down from your attack and your breathing gets softer and softer as he holds you. A few more moments pass before he loosens his hold on you because he knows that you’re back in control. You stay against him as you try to find a thought you can easily share. You wiggle away from him slightly and then turn yourself sideways so you can rest your head above his heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur into his warm chest,” I couldn’t be in my place anymore.”

“It’s alright, Bunny,” He mumbles, the nickname causing your nose to scrunch up slightly,” You’re the one who keeps wiggling that nose of yours like that.”

You chuckle softly before taking some deep breaths.

“I can’t stop thinking about it you know. How I never planned to be here this long and here I am still here. It feels like I stole someone else’s time. Someone more deserving,” You express, desperately trying to keep yourself from getting worked up again.

Henry wraps his arms around you again, giving a squeeze to tell you to continue.

“I know Megan says that it’s okay to not have a plan, but I don’t like that. I don’t like feeling like I have no control. I always thought I wouldn’t make it to 18 and every year that passes hurts more because I feel like I’m on borrowed time. That maybe this is all some sort of dream or something and I’ll wake up and I’ll be back in that house with him,” You blubber.

He keeps holding you tight and slightly rocks you in his arms. Kal even moves to rest his head on your leg.

“I still hear him in my head. He keeps telling me how I ruined his life, that he can’t see his girlfriend as much because of me, that I’m causing him all these problems-“

“Bunny,” Henry cuts you off,” Your father was wrong. He had his problems just like you, but he shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You’re not the reason why any of his life turned out the way it did…”

“But I killed him didn’t I? Speed up his desire to do what he did. The thing that I was supposed to do,” You cry into his chest.

“Y/N, you didn’t kill him. He should never have made you feel like killing yourself was the only way to help him. You are not on borrowed or stolen time. You were meant to be here. You deserve to be here. Your life matters to me and Kal and so many others. I know this time of the year is rough, but you did something you never did before. You reached out to someone instead of handling this alone and I am so damn proud of you,” Henry uttered and he held you tighter, blinking away the own tears in his eyes.

You sob harder at that, letting it all out. He lets you sob for as long as you need to. Occasionally rubbing your back and whispering how proud he is of you over and over until it sticks. The tears eventually run dry and you breathing evens out once more. You listen to each breath he takes, the praise he gives you. The silence only broken by a small dinging from nearby. Henry adjusts to slightly to see his watch alert midnight.

“I’m only going to say this once so don’t get too annoyed. Happy Birthday Bunny,” The man whispers to you,” Now I know we can’t do anything to crazy to distract you but I may have brought part of the festivities early. Theres two cupcakes in the car with your name on it. How about I grab those, we go inside, curl up on your couch, and watch The Little Mermaid? Maybe I can start calling you fishy instead huh? Kal thinks its a good idea right bud.”

Kal huffs loudly in approval before getting up to stretch and do his business. You laugh at that as you pull away from him slightly. “Thank you Hen. I really needed that.”

“That’s what friends are for. Now let’s go before my cheat day passes by.”

A/N 2: If you've read this far, I want you to know you're not alone. Trust me I know it feels like that sometimes, but there are people who are there for you. I'm one of those people if you need it. You deserve to be here in this life just as much as I do. ❤️

[margridarnauds]

dvd commentary 2: [ On a scale of 1-10, 1 being a bad day at the office, 10 being “the world on fucking fire”, today had been a solid 15 .

Chris. Mia. Rose. The Village. Luiza. Leonardo. Elena. Being chased by werewolves, then being impaled and dragged around. Being the center of a tug-of-war game between four freaks and their murdering witch of a mother. Being chased by werewolves again .

This wasn’t even Louisiana, he thought, a puddle splashing underneath his hand as he crawled away from the ruined death trap, the water cooling the burning that still ebbed along his wrists. Too close.

Louisiana felt normal compared to this. At least there, he didn’t have goddamn vampires . ] - Door #2

One annoying fact about my writing: Once I get a beginning stuck in my head, I almost NEVER let it go, because, as far as my brain is concerned, that's it. That's the beginning, and anything else will feel wrong. And that was very much the case for Door #2, where I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how this would get off the ground, that line got into my head, and then, just like that, BAM. Opening.

Initially, the concept for Door #2 was very much like every other Wintersberg fic, where Ethan takes Heisenberg's deal. The first scene I actually had written out was the one that was JUST published, when Ethan meets Heisenberg in the factory, Heisenberg makes the offer, and Ethan accepts. But, then I got attached to the other lords and was like "...okay, change of plans" and I had to write out all the other chapters BEFORE that. Which meant a new scene. So it was actually quite hard to find an opening until it materialized in my mind.

It was really, really important to get into Ethan's head and emphasize that he was Some Guy, that he had a normal life, and now he's being tossed into all this madness. And, in a way that will really become important in a few chapters down the line, that he's dealt with SO MUCH. Because, when we're playing the game or watching videos, I think it's easy to forget that this is all happening to Ethan over the COURSE OF A DAY. Like, the man sees his wife shot by his friend, has his daughter kidnapped, meets all these people who die in front of him, and that's before he even meets the Four Lords. It's very likely not even 8 o clock in the morning and he's having to deal with this, and I feel like for any person, it wouldn't have sunk in. Like, his mind is AWARE that these things are happening, but it just can't hold it because he's focused SO HARD. (Which is one thing that I wish people would understand when they criticize Ethan for being harsh or jumpy or snappish -- He's had a REALLY, REALLY rough time, he's kind of running off of nothing but the urge to get his daughter back, he's got to be tired, he's got to be hungry, he's got to be thirsty, and he's seen his entire world fall apart in front of him. Of COURSE he isn't going to be the most patient or sympathetic to Heisenberg. He isn't exactly in a state of mind where he can fall into Heisenberg's muscular, toned arms like I know that people want...and that's fine.)

It's easy for us, as the observers, to take this for granted, but he JUST escaped with his life. His hand got half-bitten off less than about thirty minutes ago, he's been crawling on the ground, his knees are probably sore, the cavern is damp and wet and the ground is hard, and he just put his wrists up against some rapidly spinning spikes, with only some handcuffs to protect them. Yeah, he's in pain. Which is part of why he's not in a particularly good mood when he meets Heisenberg because, as much as WE love Heisenberg, Ethan is really not in a state where he's able to listen to what he's saying when HE'S the reason why he's in this mess in the first place.

And it was really, really important to keep in bringing the villagers, because I feel like people forget them and the impact they would have had on Ethan really easily. And, I get it! They don't have the personality that the Four Lords do. The Four Lords are FUN -- One chapter that I recently had to write (can't give details on because Spoilers) was a DELIGHT because of the change in perspective. But the villagers also had lives. They had loved ones. And these are people that Ethan personally interacted with before they died, who he couldn't save, and that's going to linger with him and tint his dealings with the Four Lords, because they don't care AT ALL, they exploited these people from cradle to grave. (I love Heisenberg, obviously, but he only really does care about himself, his claims of being a "freedom fighter" aside.) But, on the reverse end of that, it also means that....when he forms a genuine attachment to someone, he's going to cling onto them a little more, because he's tired of losing people.

[always5hineee]

The Final Bell- Chapter 10: Johnny’s Insight

Chapter warnings: mild language

Word Count: 1852

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

They all sat packed in the van, collectively silent. Even Jungwoo was with them, having left the car at the campsite. They were planning to return, so hopefully everything was left alone. Other raiders were more likely than zombies, but either was an undesirable outcome.

       They were on their way to see Johnny. Surprisingly, he had been incredibly cooperative in disclosing his location. She hadn't heard anyone tell him about the situation, but maybe he could just sense the tension? Regardless, they had a lot to discuss with him. He was strangely close by- not even a ten minute drive, and it wasn't long before they pulled up to the camp.

       The man was standing there, both hands in his pockets, waiting with a somber look on his face. Everyone piled out of the car, forming a rough semi-circle.

       "Hey, Johnny." Taeyong started, greeting him awkwardly. The man nodded in acknowledgement. He looked to Y/N in particular as well, but didn't do anything that she was expecting him to. Rather than wink or say something odd as he had done last time, he looked... sorry for her?

       Finally, they had nothing to do other than explain. Johnny stood and listened, saying nothing. Occasionally he would nod, or shift his gaze when a new person began to speak. It was hard to relive, even if it had just happened over the course of the last week. All in all, though, they had to break the news to Johnny. They had lost two more.

       "So, uh... we need a few lines on our tattoos. We figured we'd get Y/N on there as well. While we're here." It was only now that Johnny actually spoke.

       "I see. So I suppose that means you're staying for good?" He asked, looking her in the eyes.

       "I, uh... yeah."

       "So you'll be getting the tattoo as well?" She glanced over. All the boys were looking at her, hopeful. Well, she couldn't exactly turn them down now... Especially after everything she'd done.

       "Yeah, I'd love to." She said. It was definitely nerve wracking, but it was for the best. He nodded again.

       "Alright, then. I'll take you all in the tent one at a time."

       "You can go last if you want, Y/N." Taeyong leaned over and said near her ear. She nodded- that would be more comfortable.

       Taeyong went in first. While he was getting his tattoo done, the others were waiting outside. Taeil and Jungwoo were muttering to each other. Jaehyun was off on his own, brooding, no doubt. Mark looked as though he wanted to talk to the man, but decided against it, walking back to the car to perform some useless task. Finally, Doyoung approached Y/N.

       They hadn't talked much since their... unfortunate introduction. Still, he seemed perfectly comfortable sitting down right next to her. Either he was extremely bold, or just socially oblivious.

       "I'm happy you're getting the tattoo." He said shortly, looking at his half-disassembled radio in his hands.

       "Yeah... you don't seem like a tattoo kind of guy." She said, trying to start a conversation. He didn't say anything in return, but it was true. Taeyong, Taeil, and Jaehyun all had other tattoos, but Doyoung was clean. She wasn't actually sure where his group tattoo even was.

       "I don't blame you, you know." He offered, completely out of context.

       "Um... thank you?" She was confused. That was a little uncalled for. Did he think that she thought they blamed her? That would indicate that there was a solid reason to blame her. I mean... I guess that case could be made. "No one does." He added. "Not even Jaehyun."

       "I-" Before she could finish, Johnny let Taeyong out of the tent.

       "Doyoung, you're next up." The boy didn't even say goodbye as he shoveled the radio parts into his pocket, walking over. She had hoped Taeyong would keep her company, but he went to go speak to Mark, who was now on his way back. She knew she couldn't depend on him to babysit her all the time, but... it would have been nice to have someone to talk to. She knew that if she approached one of them they'd entertain her conversation, but she really didn't think it was necessary to inflict that on them right now. Ultimately, she decided to bite the bullet and sit alone with her thoughts.

       One by one, the guys entered and exited Johnny's tent. None of them looked to be in any sever pain, and each only took about ten minutes. She supposed it wasn't that hard to do that small of a tattoo, but still... He must have been good. Finally, it came her turn. Gritting her teeth as he called her name, she stood. It was the first time she had been inside his tent, and it was much different than she expected.

       There was a cot on the left side of the structure, and a stool on the right. A rough tattoo machine was positioned on a nearby crate, softly humming. She didn't even know where he had gotten it- or the parts to make it? All she could hope was that it was clean.

       "So, where do you want it?" He asked, motioning for her to have a seat on the makeshift bed.

       "Uh... I was thinking my side?" She asked lifting her shirt up slightly to point.

       "Good choice. Well, whenever you're ready?" She nodded, laying down and pulling her clothing up. He pulled on a new pair of rubber gloves, dragging the stool closer to her so as to get a better vantage point. He ran a hand over her skin, as if testing where exactly the best position was. Using both, he stretched her skin out slightly, making sure he had a clean canvas. It was still disorienting for one of his hands to be so warm, and the other so cool. Unfortunately, (but probably for the better), he was using his good hand to hold the needle, continuing to hold her flesh flat with his replacement.

       He disinfected the area with what she hoped wasn't a wet wipe, although it was suspiciously similar. He didn't have a stencil, so he was evidently just planning on doing it by hand. As he grabbed the handle and moved to tattoo her, she clenched her eyes shut, holding her breath. The pain never came. Finally, she was forced to look.

       "I can't give you ink like that." He said, sitting back and laughing. "You're gonna pass out."

       "I'm sorry..." She said apologetically. "I'm just... not used to this." He paused to think for a minute.

       "Oh, I know- get up."

       "What?"

       "Just do it." She did as he asked, standing up. He grabbed her waist, spinning her around to sit in the stool as he took a position in the cot. He hooked his thumbs under his shirt, pulling it over his head. He was surprisingly well defined, evidently strong in several regards. On his chest lay the same tattoo as the rest of the group. Her gaze shifted.

       "What? Surprised?"

       "I- I heard that you added your name to the others, but-"

       "You didn't think I'd get it too? I know I'm not always with them, but... I kind of consider myself part of the group." He explained. "Anyway, you're gonna fix it for me."

       "Excuse me?"

       "You heard me." He handed her the handle of the machine. "It's easy. Start with the lines- one through Haechan, the other through Yuta. After that, you just need to sign Y/N."

       "What if I mess it up?" She asked, hands already shaking nearly as much as the needle.

       "You'll be fine. Worst case, it's something to remember you by. Think of it this way- I'm trying to help you get more comfortable with the idea of the tattoo. I promise you it'll help." Finally, he managed to convince her. Laying her non-dominant hand on his chest, and steadying the tool with her other, she began.

       Thankfully, she hadn't fucked anything up. The lines were almost perfectly straight, although Johnny's breathing was definitely distracting her. It was when she came to her name that she got nervous. She tried to copy the handwriting as best as possible, and afterwards it turned out pretty well.

       "See? You're a tattoo artist now! Ready to do yours?" She nodded, laying down. Somehow, he had been right. She wasn't nearly as scared about this now. He began- the pain was definitely there... but not terrible. She felt a tinge of guilt every time she felt a line go through a name... who was it?

       "You may have to do this for them someday." He mentioned, wiping off the first few lines.

       "What are you talking about?" He continued drawing.

       "I won't be around forever, Y/N."

       "You can always come with us, we're-"

       "I know." He interrupted. "Taeyong told me. I'm headed Northeast with you guys, I'm considering joining you in your crack ass adventure. Still..." he continued, deliberately focusing on her skin. "Something could happen. It did to these poor guys. It could happen to me too. After all," he raised his arm, "I'm not exactly a stranger to flirting with death." He laughed before leaning down once more to finish up. "Or pretty ladies." He added. She sighed, ignoring the comment.

       "Don't say things like that. I'm sure it'll be fine. Everything is going back to normal."

       "Is that what you told yourself before Haechan and Yuta died?" She said nothing. "Sorry. Anyway, you're all done, feel free to take a look." She strained to see, leaning over and twisting her body. Each name was neatly scripted, marking her new unspoken covenant with these boys. A new addition graced hers, though. Each of the dead men's names was surrounded by floating petals.

       "Johnny... it's gorgeous." She whispered. He smiled. "Glad you like it. Now let's go show everyone." They walked out into the camp, where everyone was slowly gathering back together. Taeyong was the first to address her.

       "Hey, Y/N, how'd it go?" She lifted up her shirt, grinning and practically bouncing.

       "Look!" He reached out to touch it, tracing the names.

       "Wow, it turned out really well!" He said, smiling at her before turning to Johnny. "So... I suppose we'll see you soon?"

       "As always. But. You do owe me a fee this time."

       "Oh- shit, right. I forgot we spent our favor on Y/N." Taeyong muttered. Shit, yet another thing she was messing up. I mean, we don't really have anything right now, but I can drive back and grab something. The camp isn't far, I can-"

       "That won't be necessary." He smiled, grabbing Y/N's waist and pulling her into a kiss. She stood stone still, unsure of what to do. After what felt like far too long, he released her. "That'll suffice." He said. The other guys didn't even know what to do. As they loaded into the van, he waved one last goodbye.

       "I'll see you all very soon..."

Go to Chapter 11

[kiwi-bitchez]

Permafrost

Chapter 4: superpowers and liquid courage

Read chapters 1, 2, and 3, all are also on my Ao3

Summary: Peter and Y/N sneak around the boat and try to find ways to kill the time. Stumbling upon a bar, you take it upon yourself to pour the liquid courage you need to finally talk to peter about what happened that night at the party.

Warnings: language and alcohol consumption

A/N: can this be a slow burn even though they've already fucked??? More smut is coming, I promise ;) Drop requests for oneshots or ideas for fics you want to see in my ask box! Smut/fluff/anything! Plz! I’m so lonely and horny all the time. 

The first handful of days on the boat generally consist of jetlag, seasickness, and mundane ways to kill the onsetting boredom. Just about everyone slept for the majority of the first day of the trip, that 11-hour flight was no joke, and segueing directly onto a boat wasn’t exactly an easy transition.

The bunks on the ship weren’t ideal, but they were nice enough. You weren’t exactly used to luxury anyways. The bedrooms could easily be compared to small dorm rooms, and the bathrooms weren’t large enough for more than one person to be seasick at a time.

Both you and Peter didn’t have too much trouble with that, as you found the constant swaying kind of comforting, and you were sure Peter was immune to motion sickness. However, everyone else wasn’t quite as adept as the two of you, making the first 48 hours generally miserable for everyone.

“I can’t stand being in here listening to Steve throw up any longer,” Peter says, sitting up in his bed and tossing a wad of paper at the back of your head.

“Hey!” you turn from your seat at the small desk where you had been trying to distract yourself with work, “watch it!”

“Can we do something, please,” Peter looks at you, making a ridiculous puppy-dog face that you knew you couldn’t say no to, “just like a walk around the ship, we can go up to the top deck, literally anything, please.”

“Ugh I guess,” you pretend to be annoyed but are actually glad to be getting out of the tiny bedroom. You hadn’t taken much time to explore around the ship, and you figured it would be beneficial considering you were going to be here for quite some time.

Following Peter, who walked incredibly fast, always slightly bouncing and skipping when he stepped, you made your way to the main room. There was a small kitchen, a few couches, and a dining table. You flop dramatically back onto one of the couches in the middle of the room, letting all your limbs hang off the sides.

“Great, now we can just listen to everyone be sick from out here,” you flop your head back to look at peter from an upside-down angle.

“At least the acoustics are better,” he quips back as he rummages through every drawer and cabinet.

“Is this really the only other room other than our sleeping quarters?” you ask, assuming he had been told more than you about the trip.

“Yeah, I think so. There are the other rooms upstairs, the conference room, and the top deck. I think Tony mentioned something about an entertainment room but he said it was closed off. This boat used to be for small private trips until they refurbished it to make the trip to Antarctica, now mostly it’s used by larger groups of scientists and stuff like that, so no real need for an entertainment room.”

“No need for an entertainment room? What, you science nerds don’t like to have fun?” You joke, having recently learned about Peter’s love for math and science, particularly chemistry.

“Not exactly anti-fun, more like anti-relaxation,” he flops beside you in a similar fashion on the couch across from yours, “I’m pretty sure Stark sealed off that conference room and is using it as a lab. Like he couldn’t just relax for a few days, that would be impossible.”

“Why aren’t you up there with him doing top-secret Avenger’s science?”

“Eh, he told me to scram when I offered to help. Sometimes he gets into the zone and refuses to let anyone help him. I kind of get it, but it means I’m stuck here, bored out of my mind.”

“Damn, sorry I’m so boring I guess,” you joke, sarcastically rolling your eyes at him.

“That is not what I-” he starts before looking over at you, realizing your tongue is stuck out at him.

“Race you to the top,” you say quickly as you take a head start out the door.

The two of you tumble down the hallway, flailing your arms and trying to knock one another over. He manages to squeak by you and scramble up the stairs to the top deck first.

“Hey that is not fair,” you yell over to him, already starting to shiver, “I don’t have radioactive blood and spider muscles or whatever it is you have.”

You join him over by the railing, looking out at the vast ocean. Although it is beautiful, the cold is unbearable and the wind is whipping your hair in every direction.

“This was a better idea in theory,” Peter turns to you, “I think I spotted Monopoly down there.”

“Okay are we five?” you joke back, but you secretly loved Monopoly, fully ready to kick Peter’s ass.

Although the two of you grew comfortable quickly, there was still a slight air of tension. There was that underlying thing that neither of you was going to bring up, but secretly wished the other would. You used humor as a coping mechanism, constantly deflecting with sarcasm and bad jokes.

It was inconvenient that the only person who really wanted to spend time with you was Peter, and you spent almost every minute of the day together. All of this would have been easier if you just had to awkwardly acknowledge him in passing, but no, you were literally sleeping less than 10 feet apart.

You tried to just see him as a friend, someone you could be goofy and dick around with. You think he is trying to see you the same way too. You try your best to keep physical contact out of the picture, but he can’t help but to grab your hand to drag you off somewhere, or for you to ruffle his hair after he says something stupid.

There was that inherent chemistry between the two of you, and if you hadn’t known better you could have ignored it, but that was the problem, you did know better. You both knew how you had fucked each other’s brains out that night, how the sexual interest and intense attraction truly was there and wasn’t just something you were imagining. But still, you resign to scrunching your nose at him and cracking bad jokes over board games to repress any feelings of wanting him on top of you.

You had found a small stack of board games and would cycle through them and play with anyone who was willing to sit with you and Peter for that long. Monopoly, Risk, and Scrabble. Certain members of the team would come in for certain games, some were better competitors than others. But that’s how the two of you mutually decided to pass the time. When you weren’t stewing over maps and images of cliff faces, you would go down to the common room with Peter and wait around until you had a large enough party to play. A few days passed by this way and you didn’t mind, it also gave you the chance to spend some time with the other members of the team, although they never became less intimidating.

You sat at the tiny wooden desk, you ass getting sore from sitting on the hard, wooden chair. You had been shuffling through papers, not really concentrating on anything in particular, when you felt Peter enter the room. You had headphones on and had the music cranked up, but you could always feel when he entered the room, despite how light on his feet he was.

You turn around, surprised to not see him there. But before you can fully turn back around to the desk your body instinctively recoils at Peter hanging upside down dangling over the wooden surface. You gasp as you start to fall back, chair slipping out underneath you. He shoots out a web from god knows where and catches the chair inches before it hits the ground.

You clutch your chest, slightly worried that cardiac arrest might be in your near future. Before you can yell at him, or even get up, he is toppled over on the desk cracking up. He lowers you slowly, so you are now flat on your back. He continues to hysterically laugh and you can’t help but join him.

“What the fuck man!” you finally say in between giggles.

“I’m sorry I-” Peter, still gasping for air in between bellows, “I just wanted to scare you, I didn’t realize you would-” still laughing.

“You are an asshole,” you say, finally getting up, you smack him off your desk and start to reorganize your papers.

“You can’t be mad at me, that was so funny,” Peter, finally upright, moves across the room.

“You bet your ass I will be getting you back though,” you point your finger sternly at him, although you were unsure how you could top hanging from the ceiling, “If you are here to ask me to play scrabble with you, I may explode.”

“No, no, I need a solid 12-hour break from board games before I kick your ass at Monopoly again,” he never stops rubbing it in, “I was just wondering if you wanted to look around for something to eat for dinner.”

You smooth out your hair and clothes to join him in the hallway, quickly entering the somewhat crowded main room. The others were eating as well, as everyone had become accustomed to the motion of the ocean and had started taking Dramamine. The two of you conclude on a box of mac and cheese, as long as Peter did all the work. He owed you at least that considering your heart stopped for a solid 15 after that stunt he pulled.

Everyone finishes their meals and clears out of the room, heading back to their respective rooms, leaving you and Peter to discuss the mechanics of eating mac and cheese with a spork.

“Make sure to wrap it before you tap it, kids,” Sam nudges Peter on the shoulder as he exited the room.

“Oh my god do they all know about that?” you ask.

“Kind of,” Peter’s face grew red, “they all really like you, I swear.”

“He wouldn’t shut up about you for weeks!” Sam yells from the hallway, clearly still within earshot of you.

You threw your hands over your face in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that all the freaking Avengers knew about your sex life. You wondered how much Peter had told them, but didn’t dare ask. You just hoped they all knew that you were professional and hadn’t just weaseled your way onto this trip because you had slept with Spiderman, although that technically was the case.

“I am painfully bored,” you admit, bringing your dishes to the sink, “is there really nothing else to do other than Monopoly and sleep?”

“I mean I can think of a few things…” Peter jokes, although you hope deep down that he isn’t.

“Hey, quit it with the flirting,” you join him on the couch, “you made me dinner and now you’re making passes at me, don’t break the rules.”

“But rules are so boooooring, and this boat is soooo booooring,” he slumps into your lap, making those puppy dog eyes at you again.

“Okay then, lets… do something exciting then,” you suggest, getting up and waltzing across the room.

“What could possibly be exciting?”

“If I remember your top-secret Avengers info correctly, there is a whole game room just waiting to be broken into.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Peter questions, “hey, and isn’t your whole deal that you want to be respectful and professional and everything?”

Although he makes a fair point, everyone is in bed at this point and your boredom was killing your brain cells. You both could use something to occupy your minds as this boat slowly trudges into colder and colder territory.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you start, “I didn’t realize you were bitten by a radioactive scardey cat.”

He rolls his eyes at you and follows you out into the hallway and down the stairs.

“Fine, but I am not taking the blame for this if we get in trouble.”

“Fine, fine, it was all my idea, you can even rat me out.”

You make your way down to the bottom floor, where neither of you had yet been. You find the door at the end of the hallway and quietly jiggle the door handle open.

“Dude, your secret intel was all lies,” you whisper, “the door wasn’t even locked.”

You slip your way into the door and feel around for a light switch. Although it was nowhere near as exciting as you would have hoped, it was still something. The lights flicker on and reveal a mostly empty ballroom, a small one albeit, a few tables, couches, and a bar. It wasn’t much different from the room upstairs except the one thing that caught your eye, the bar.

“Come on Peter, it will be fun,” you start, already knowing he will protest your devilish ideas, “plus, I bet no one can even hear us down here.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to take anything that doesn’t belong to me.”

“If that’s your concern I have like twenty bucks in cash upstairs that I will gladly leave in the place of whichever one of these fine bottles we choose to take.”

“I suppose,” you notice him coming around to the idea, “but we have to be quiet, I don’t want to disrupt anyone’s sleep.”

“Of course, of course,” you were now behind the bar, eyeing your selections, “pick your poison, Parker.”

You grab a bottle and take a seat on one of the couches, Peter sits down across from you.

“Are we friends?” you ask Peter, taking a swig right from the bottle and passing it over to him.

“Um, I guess so? Why?” Peter takes a sip much more easily than you had expected.

“I just feel like I don’t know anything about you. Friends know things about each other.”

“You know that I’m Spiderman, most people don’t know that about me.”

“I guess,” you take the bottle back from him, “but we have spent every day together for almost a week now, and I don’t really know anything about you. Your name is Peter Parker, you have magic spider monkey powers, you have a big dick...”

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” he says, hand out asking for the bottle again.

“Hmm?” you finish your sip and hand the liquor over.

“My middle name is Benjamin, that’s something you don’t know about me.”

“That’s so cute,” the liquor hitting you already, “that suits you so well.”

“Thanks, it was my Uncle’s name,” Peter took a long sip, “he, um, he died when I was in high school.”

“Oh,” you didn’t expect this conversation to get so serious so quickly, “were you two close?’

“Yeah, my parents are dead, so he and my Aunt May were my guardians. May is great, she’s like the best person ever, love her with my whole heart. But Uncle Ben died and it was pretty hard on us, and I became Spiderman, and… it was all kind of a mess, to be honest.”

“I’m- I’m really sorry to hear that,” you look down, unsure of how to continue.

“Ok now you go,” he says, handing you the bottle.

“Huh?” you were still trying to process everything he had just thrown out there.

“Our drinking game, you say something the other person doesn’t know about you and also you drink.”

“That just sounds like a conversation to me.”

“Ok, then you come up with something!”

“No, no, I like it,” you laugh, the alcohol steadily setting into your bloodstream, “I just don’t really have any exciting secrets like dead parents or superpowers though.”

“That’s ok, just tell me your favorite ice cream flavor or something. You are right, we barely know anything about each other.”

“Coffee, but coffee mixed with cookies and cream, so like the coffee ice cream has little bits of cookie mixed in it. What’s yours?”

“Ben and Jerry's.”

“That’s not a flavor, that’s a brand.”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s my answer. This is my game, so I say Ben and Jerry's.”

The two of you had somehow migrated from the couches over to the large wooden dance floor, laying with arms and legs starfished out around you. You went back and forth, telling stupid facts about yourselves, whoever wasn’t talking was drinking. You flip over onto your stomachs and rest your head on your arms, crossed in front of you. You were staring directly into Peter’s eyes.

Normally being this close to him would make you a blend of anxious and horny and giddy. However, the bottle was well over half gone at this point. The two of you had been talking for hours, rolling around on the hard floor and laughing at each other’s stories.

“Have you ever been in love?” you ask, the thought escaping your mouth before it could be filtered through your brain.

“Damn,” Peter, equally as drunk as you, responds, “that’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

“Okay mister shares-a-room-with-me-and-also-let-me-suck-his-dick-in-a-spare-room-at-a-work-function Parker.”

“Hey,” he sits up, struggling a little bit, “I thought we were secretly silently agreeing not to bring that up.”

“Ban lifted,” you sit up too, “we are playing the reveal-your-secrets drinking game that YOU made up.”

“It’s called “get to know your roommate better through discussion and drink” and it’s fun,” he says defensively, “and no, I was a loser in high school and now I spend my weekends lurking around in alleyways waiting for people to punch, so no, never been in love.”

“You lurk in alleyways? Doesn’t really sound very superhero esque to me,” you make fun of him.

“I’ve been to space, so, suck on that.”

“Can I see it?”

Peter gives you a funny look, not entirely sure what you’re getting at.

“Your suit you dummy, show me your super suit. Show me Spiderman!”

“I don’t know y/n, I’m kind of drunk and I don’t want to wake anyone up.”

“What? Spiderman can’t be quiet? Please, Peter, pleeeasssee.”

“Ok fine but I’m taking that twenty from your wallet to leave at the bar.”

“Fine!” you lay back on the ground, closing your eyes that felt very heavy, “I’ll be here waiting for you Spideyyy.”

Peter takes a while, slowly making his way up the stairs to your shared room. You patiently wait for him, pacing around the entertainment room taking long gliding steps, twirling around with your arms spread out.

“Okay, I have a few different ones with me, but this one is the coolest for sure,” Peter starts talking to you before he is even all the way down the stairs, taking them three at a time. You stare at him with bulging eyes, mouth dropping slightly agape.

“What? Don’t look at me like that you’re making me self-conscious,” he steps into the room, Spider-suit clinging tightly to his body.

“How?” you walk up to him, placing a hand on the shiny material, surprised to find it was cold and metallic to the touch, “are you so perfect?”

“Excuse me?” Peter stumbles a little bit.

“Look at you! You’re freaking amazing!” you fall back onto the old leather couch, making your landing dramatic, as if he had blown you away.

“Shut up, don’t make fun of me,” Peter shies away, “I’m not even gonna put the mask on now.”

“I’m not making fun of you! Do something super, please?? Will you??”

He sighs, exasperated, and drunk, and shoots a web across the room, swinging his body along with it. He wasn’t as graceful as he usually was, and had never tried using his suit while intoxicated, so this was all new.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, causing Peter to whip around and dramatically motion for you to be quiet, “fuck, sorry. Holy shit!” you whisper.

“Can I take it off? I’m getting sweaty,” he drops his shoulders and mopes.

“I suppose…” you shuffle back over to the couch, “but know I like you much more in the sexy superhero outfit than those sweats you’ve been rocking.”

“Don’t hate on the joggers,” he was slipping back into them, you hadn’t even noticed that he had taken the spider suit off, it had happened so fast. You found yourself staring at his bare chest, unable to control your drunk expression of lust.

“Are we still playing the roommate honesty game?” you ask, desperately trying to focus your eyes on something other than Peter getting dressed.

“Yes,” he grabs the bottle over from where you had left it on the table, “and it’s my turn to ask.”

“Okay shoot spider-boy.”

He takes a long sip before sitting across from you, looking at you intently. “You lifted the ban, so I get to ask, and I’m just drunk enough to not give a fuck, so I have to do it.”

“Okay?” unsure of where he was going with this.

“Why,” he pauses before taking another quick sip, “why did you leave that night? Why didn’t you leave your number?”

It took you a second, and you sat there, slightly uncomfortable. You weren’t sure how to start, opening your mouth before words had formed in your brain.

“I’m sorry,” he cuts you off before you can even speak, “You don’t have to answer that, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“No, its ok,” you felt weirdly sober suddenly, despite not being able to feel your hands or feet or cheeks, “I- I just didn’t really know what I was doing. I had never really slept with someone I didn’t know like that, and I wasn’t sure what the rules were, what the protocol was.”

“I’m not good at that stuff either,” he avoided eye contact with you, “I probably just should have asked you for it.”

“I just, I didn’t want to leave it and then have you never call. I figured you were so busy being an Avenger, and you probably get girls all the time. I just jumped to the conclusion that it all meant a lot more to me than it did to you,” you look up at him, face previously buried in your hands.

“It meant something to me,” he says, “are you kidding, how could it not have? Did you hear Sam earlier? All I could talk about for weeks was how pissed I was that I didn’t ask you for your number, that I let you slip away.”

“I’m sorry for instilling the secret ban on talking about it,” you apologize to him, “and I’m sorry I left that night, I was just nervous. You make me nervous.”

“I am so un-intimidating. Thor is here, Captain America is here, they are intimidating. I’m like a 7 on a good day and all I can cook is boxed mac and cheese. Why do I make you nervous?”

“First off, shut up, you’re an 11 every day and you know it, you might be a secret genius, and you have freaking superpowers, plus you lowkey got me this job so I owe a lot to you.”

“I’m sorry if things have been weird or tense or whatever,” his cheeks turning redder than they had previously been.

“Don’t apologize, it’s a weird situation that neither one of us could have known about. And I’m the one who should be sorry if things are weird or tense.”

Peter gets up and joins you on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder. You still felt very nervous, but in a new way. You just want to lay there and hold him, let him know that you like him, that you really really like him.

“Do you think we could make it less weird?” your mouth does that thing again, saying ideas before your brain can properly filter them, “Do you think if we just kissed once it would diffuse the tension?”

You weren’t sure if this was actually a good idea, or if your brain was just trying to find a rational way to bring up to Peter how you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. You turned to him, alcohol helping with the typical nervousness and awkwardness that this situation would typically present.

“You just have to promise me,” he says, bringing one of his strong hands to cup your cheek.

“Promise you what?”

“Promise me that you’ll stop.”

“Stop?”

“Yeah, stop. Stop being pretty. Stop being funny. Stop being smart and witty and better than me at board games. Stop talking in your sleep and leaving your towel on your head for hours after you’ve gotten out of the shower. Stop doing all those things that are making this trip so hard for me. You have to promise me that you’ll stop.”

“If I promise, then you’ll kiss me?” you whisper, leaning into the hand that was pressed against your skin. He nods at you, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.

“Okay, then I promise. I’ll be mean and horrible to you for the rest of the trip. I’ll be nasty and unlikeable, and I’ll tell even more jokes than I already do, and now you won’t even have to pretend to laugh.”

He scrunches his nose at you, grinning a familiar smile as he leans into you.

“You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

You part your lips slightly, his mouth hovering over yours as you take a sharp breath inward, preparing yourself. His hand snakes from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his and holding your head steadily, not wanting to feel your lips part from his. You latch onto his lower lip, hands coming up instinctively to cup his face.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you pull his face closer to yours. His hand on the base of your neck and your hands on his face acted as a human vice grip, locking your faces together as you felt his lips interlock with yours. You tilt your head, allowing his tongue to slip into your ready mouth.

The kiss wasn’t sexual or heated, the way a tension diffusing kiss was supposed to be, it was slow, earnest, warm.

You were drunk, but you could feel every shift and movement in his body, every maneuver of his hand. He wasn’t kissing you the way a drunk boy should kiss you, he kissed you as if you had just come home from the airport, like you just received good news, like you had known each other for much longer than this Antarctica trip.

You were the one to pull away, immediately regretting it the moment you did. You stared at him with sad eyes, not knowing what would happen next. He just stared back, not wanting to register that the kiss was over.

Before he could say anything or look at you in a way that made you feel the need to say something, you turned around, back facing him and laid back. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Taking his hand and weaving his long fingers between yours, you tell him

“I hate you,” staying true to your promise. You close your eyes and let your body fully relax into his.

“I hate you more,” he kisses the top of your head, burying his face in your hair, closing his eyes too.

[svu-ncis-criminalminds]

Sleepless

Request : #10, #29 with Nick Amaro

“Alright, call me in the morning before you hit the road. Try and get some sleep, both of you.” You played with a loose thread of your sweater and nodded glancing over at your partner who looked dead on his feet.

“We will, see you tomorrow, Liv,” Her end clicked as the call ended but you kept the silent phone to your ear for a moment longer before letting your hand drop with a sigh. “Liv, said to call before we head out in the am.” You spoke, turning and glancing at Nick, “And to try and get some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when we catch this son of a bitch,” Nick practically growled out and you offered up a sympathetic half smile. You walked past your bed and then Nick’s and pulled the curtain back from the window peeking out before letting it fall back into place. You moved over to the door next and double checked that both the door and the deadbolt were locked.

“At least we’ve confirmed it wasn’t the father,” You and Nick has been sent upstate to check out the father of a little girl who had just turned up in the Hudson. While his alibi was solid, he didn’t seem that torn up about the whole ordeal, and didn’t want to be contacted again even if they found the killer. That sickened you.

“Doesn’t get us any closer to finding out who actually did it.” Nick snapped and you turned away and nodded.

“I know, Nick.” Usually you might have snapped back, told him you got he was stressed but that didn’t mean he got to take it out on you. But you were tired and you were gonna do your best to take Liv’s advice and get some sleep. You passed Nick who was still sitting on the edge of his bed and he reached a hand out stopping you as you passed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you gave him a small smile and nodded.

“I know. “ you repeated the sentiment and Nick relaxed as you walked away. You put your phone on the charger and set an alarm before crawling into bed under the covers. You looked over at your partner who hadn’t budged. “Nick?” His head turned to look at you and you continued, “Planning on sleeping sitting up?” You asked, the corner of his mouth turning up just barely. You watched as Nick groaned and stood up stretching. His hands went to his tie and loosened it before unbuttoning the top button. You felt your cheeks heat slightly and rolled over onto your other side calling out, “Turn the light off when your done,” You heard him hum in compliance.

You laid with your eyes closed against the lamp light and listened to Nick moving around the room behind you. You listened to the rustle of clothing as he got undressed and then redressed and then listened to him rummaging in his overnight bag before footsteps and the sound of the bathroom door closing. You heard water run, then stop, silence for a few minutes, and then water again. You rolled over and tried to get comfortable, sitting up slightly and fluffing your pillow before mashing your head back down with a sigh forcing your eyes closed.

Nick came out of the bathroom and flicked the light off and you tried to relax. You opened your eyes and watched his shadow climb into the bed beside yours. Nick turned his head towards you and you made eye contact as he settled down.

“Goodnight,” he muttered and you smiled slightly nodding.

“Goodnight, Nick.” And then he turned over, his back to you as you both tried to get some sleep. You spent the first forty five minutes laying with your eyes open trying to get the image of that little girl’s body out of your head. When you finally worked up to closing your eyes the sleep just wouldn’t take you and you spent the next hour or so over thinking. Then you felt anger, angry at her father for not caring, angry at yourself for not being able to work figure it out. You were tossing and turning now, kicking the blankets off your legs with a huff.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Nick whisper and froze in the middle of your turn.

“Nick..” You sighed settling back down and turning to look at him through the short bit of darkness.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep? Liv’s orders..” you rubbed a hand over your face and nodded.

“I can’t sleep, sorry if I woke you.” You whispered. Nick shook his head and shrugged.

“I wasn’t asleep.” He assured and you let out a slightly bitter laugh. “I just keep... I keep seeing that little girl, and I want to back and throttle the father, I mean what kind of scumbag-“

“I know,” you interrupted, “I know, I’ve spent the last two hours trying to get it out of my mind, everytime I close my eyes. I see her,” you voice broke towards the end and you clamped your mouth closed swallowing hard. You stared at the ceiling in silence for a moment but jerked your head to the side when you heard the creak of Nick’s mattress. You watched him get up and take the two steps to your bed.

“Scoot,” he gestured and you wiggled over making enough room for Nick to climb into bed beside you. You laid beside each other in silence for a few minutes before you felt Nick shift and his fingers brush against your hand before linking your fingers together. You squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. “You need sleep.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Says you, considering I’m gonna be making you drive home tomorrow,” Nick chuckled and smiled slightly.

“That’s because you’re a bad driver,” Nick teased and you used the hand not in his to swat at Nick’s shoulder. Nick caught your hand and held that one too pulling you closer to him. You shifted in the bed letting Nick guide you until your head was on his shoulder, his one hand leaving yours and going up to rub comforting circles in your bicep. “Try and get some sleep, (Y/N).” He murmured and you felt yourself relaxing properly for the first time that night.

“As long as you do,” you baranged and felt Nick’s laugh beneath your head. He squeezed the hand still in his and nodded.

“I think I might be able to now.” You closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of Nick rubbing circles in your arm, on his breathing, on his warmth, and finally, before you knew it you were drifting off to sleep.

[jamlally]

Baby it’s cold outside

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by  @panicfob .  The Day 10 Challenge prompt was Snow Storm

Warnings: Fluff and suggestions of sex

Pairing: Tony Stark x OFC (Belle Porter),

Summary:Tony has a surprise for Belle and the weather has a surprise for them both

Being woken up in the early hours wasn’t common place but it also wasn’t entirely unusual.  Belle had spent the night in her own apartment for a change as Tony had been hung up on some project that kept him up late and had him coming to bed in the early hours.  No matter how quiet he tried to be she would still wake up when he came back to his apartment and when he did manage to fall asleep it wasn’t restful.  Belle needed one nights solid rest so they had agreed that she would sleep in her own bed for the night, and then they would go back to her staying in his room.

It hadn’t been long since things had moved on to the more physical level between the,, but Belle found that she had missed his warmth and his smell when she tried settle own to sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning she had wrapped herself up in a blanket and headed up to Tony’s apartment, stolen a hoodie that replaced the blanket and headed back to her own bed,  Surrounded in his musky amber scent sleep had come more easily - week right up until the lights in her apartment had turned on and the man himself was shaking her shoulder

“Snowflake, hey come on baby rise and shine”

“Tony?” She was confused and groggy “What time is it?”

“Oh its’ early, maybe 4 but I have a surprise for you”. He was crouched down at her level, eyes looking tired but full of life

“Couldn’t it wait until a little later my love ?” Tired as she was she returned his grin with her own sleepy smile “You could join me in here”

“Mmmmm as tempting as that is I  don’t want to spoilt the surprise” He ran his hands under the covers one skimming up her leg while the other found her waist ‘Is that my hoodie I feel.  Was my girl missing me?”

Belle blushed a little “No I think you’ll find I’m wearing it so its mine.” Tony chuckled “Fair enough.  Now up you get, put on something warm, and meet mean the garage in 5” A quick hint of a kiss and he was off  leaving Belle grumbling as she went to freshen up.

Bundled up in a warm jacket, jeans and numerous other layers Belle made her way to the garage to find Tony, who was stood leaning against one of the larger SUV’s cup of what she guessed was coffee in one hand and his ever present phone in the other

“There’s my girl, hop on in.  I put coffee in there for you”  She got another quick kiss on the way passed and then she was settled into the passenger seat coffee in one hand, her other resting on Tony’s thigh.  Content with drinking her coffee and watching the world fly by Belle simply enjoyed the quiet.  About 30 minutes in she realized that other than out of the city she had no idea of where they were going 

“OK so it’s 5am and we are out of the city, so do you want to tell me where we are going?”

“Hmm nice of you to ask but no, that would spoil the surprise”

“Ok and why are we having this surprise? Is this like Natasha’s gift?”

“Ohh now there’s an interesting idea but no.  I know that I’ve been busy and it probably feels like I’ve been ignoring you.  In fact I probably have been a bit.  When I get into my head sometimes I loose track of things and I need to just get things don.  It makes me hard to be around and …look I know I’m a pain in the ass most of the time, but I need you to know that even when I get caught up I miss you”

“Tony, that’s not something you need to worry about.  I understand that’s the way you work and I accept that - it’s a part of who you are”

“You say that now but some day it’ll get annoying and then we will fight, and trust me, based on passed experience it won’t end well”

Belle sighed “Is this because of where I slept?  If it is we tased about that Tony.  We both needed uninterrupted rest.  You wake me when you get I and I wake you when I go out.  It was just a night.  Hell I count even sleep without your hoodie”

“I dint want to take any chances so we’re having a surprise.  Now why don’t you settle down find us something to listen to and enjoy the drive”

Tabling the conversation for the moment Belle picked up Tonys phone and scrolled through it finding some podcast that sounded interesting putting it on for them both to listen to.  Settling back she watched as the miles passed by.

Two hours into the drive Belle suddenly sat up looking at the signs in more detail and paying more attention to her surroundings.  

“Tony are we heading to the Catskills?” She asked more than a little excited 

She got a grin in answer and Belle found herself bouncing a little e in her seat in excitement

The cabin they pulled up to was beautiful, set amongst the trees, warm lights already spilling out the windows.  Belle looked between Tony and the cabin until he nodded, then she jumped out the SUV and headed up to the door.  It was colder than she imagined it would be outside and the air smelled crisp and almost sharp.  

“Come on slow poke - I want to look inside” she called back to Tony, the excitement clear in her voice.  

‘Put your thumb on the reader and the door will unlock” he called. Back moving to the trunk

“Of course it will” Belle muttered to herself,  She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the amount of tech that surrounded her.  Sure enough the door opened and she walked into a stunning log cabin. The hallway branched off into a living room, dining area and kitchen and what looked like possibly a bathroom, while a set of stairs lead, she guessed up to at least one bedroom.

The click of the door alerted her to Tony’s presence.  Im going to light a fire and get the stove working, why don’t you take our bags upstairs to the room.  Turning Belle was surprised to see Tony had 2 small duffles with him 

“Now how on earth did you manage to get a bag packed for me ?”

Tony just grinned “Thats my secret.  Now chop chop we have relaxing to be doing so off you go”

The upper level gad a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom, Belle picked the room with an en suite and put the bags at the foot of the the bed.  Checking the bags he found one filled with new bottles of her toiletries and a pile of casual clothes, most of which looked to be hers though there seemed to be a couple of new sweaters.  Smiling she pulled out a loose charcoal grey one that she definitely hadn’t seen before.  It felt wonderfully soft and when she pulled it on she felt content.

“So not that I’m complaining, because this is wonderful, but why did we have to leave so early to com here”

“Well I had this all kind of planned but then the weather looked like it might not cooperate so I figured that we would just move the plans up a little bit. Ohh and can I just sy that who ever picked that sweater has excellent taste, it looks wonderful on you”

Belle moved up to Tony sliding her arms around his neck “MmmmHmmm not only does it look good but it feels wonderful too.  It’s from my man on the side, he has wonderful taste”

Man on the side huh.  Well he better watch out, I’m not a man that likes go share” Tony dropped his voice to something that was closer a growl before nipping at Belle’s neck.  Belle giggled and moved in closer.

“Seriously though Tony, thank you for this, it’s a wonderful idea”

“So my plan was to make some breakfast and some coffee, maybe sit in here and read, and maybe do some other things too” queue eyebrow wiggle

“Now that sounds like an idea, how about I go get started in the kitchen, see what food we have and you can start on the coffee”  Belle knew that if Tony had picked the coffee maker then he would probably be the only one who could work out how to get the damn this to brew.

They worked in companionable silence, steeling occasional kisses, and touches as they pulled together food before eventually retiring back to the loving room, coffee cups refilled, ready to relax.  Tony had produced books from another bag and the pair snuggled on the sofa to read.

“So I did some research and there is supposed to be an amazing hiking trail not far from here,  I thought we could pack a lunch and head out for a bit seeing as the weather is still good” Tony broke the silence, causing Belle to blink a little sleepily,  She hadn’t been asleep but, she wasn’t that far from a quick doze.

“That sounds good, i'll freshen up and then we can head out?” 

“No rush baby”

It.turns out that there was a reason to rush. They had found the trail easily enough and it was nice and clear making it easy to follow.  There had been an epic view about an hour in and they had stopped to have lunch, before heading off again. Another 10 minutes in and the wind suddenly picked but, and it was sharp and cold.  Tony had checked in with FRIDAY and had quickly turned them round to head back, but it turned out that they couldn’t outrun the weather.  About half way back the wind had brought snow with it and it fell faster than Belle had ever seen.  The ground grew slippery and the snow started to settle.  

“You said the weather was going stay good”. Belle  squealed as she slipped her way around the last corner before the cabin would come into sight

“Actually I said that the weather had stayed good, but regardless I probably should have checked” Tony called back raising hi spouse to be heard over the wind. “I didn’t think that the weather would come in that fast” 

Belle gave laugh  holding out her hand for him to grab “ Me either, come on if we hurry we will get back before it gets much worse”

Tony wrapped his hand around hers letting Belle tug him closer laughing at just how crazy the situation was .  The lights of the cabin were a beacon to the pair and they sped up as soon as their target was in site. Tony fumbled with his gloves to get his hand out to unblock to door and Belle shuffled trying to keep warm, her teach chattering 

“Ok Snowdrop in you go” Tony pulled her forward into the still cozy living room before slipping in and pushing the door closed.  The wind was rattling and whistling and the light was dimming as the storm hit full force.

“Ok Snowflake strip and then it’s off to the shower to get warm. Tony was already shedding his jacket and boots and leaving them by the door.  

Belle fumbled with zippers and laces as she freed herself from the layers, teeth chattering she took Tony’s hand “I think I need to help to make sure that all of me gets warmed up”

“As my lady wishes” Tony puled her back to rest against his front, causing Belle to squeal when his cold nose pressed against her shoulder

The shower was more than big enough for the two of them and the rainfall shower head meant they were doused in hot water in seconds.  Hands ran over bodies, lips touched and sucked on flesh and moans filled the steamy air.  

Lying in bed arms wrapped around each other, breathing returning to normal Belle couldn’t believe how relaxed and safe she felt. The weather was wild with the wind screaming but she felt untouchable, wrapped in the cocoon of the man that she had realized she quite probably loved.  She wasn’t sure if he felt the same, and she was damned sure that she wasn’t ready to tell him, but in her heart the knew that the truth was there.

When Belle next opened her eyes, the light from the bathroom was the only thing that let her see anything.  She slipped out from under Tony’s arm and the covers stopping to grab some panties, thick socks and the grey sweater from earlier.  Heading down to the kitchen Belle started to put together something for dinner that would fill them and warm,  She also started a batch of mulled wine for later.  Looking out of window there wasn’t anything to be seen other than a smiling mass of snow.  The wind hadn’t settled down at all from earlier and periodically she could hear the wind ratting the front door.

She was adding more  wood to the fire when Tony came down the stairs and she glanced up at him

“Hey, the storms really picked up, I don’t think were doing any outside activities for a while, but I’ve got dinner on”

“Hmm well when I come down to a view like this I don’t feel the need to go outside.  Come here baby girl”

Laying a final piece of wood in the grate Belle stood and saunters over, adding a little more sway to her hips, her eyes fixed on Tony.  Pausing in front of him she reached out a hand to run it over his sweater covered chest 

“The views pretty good from here too” she murmured  before stepping in for a kiss which ended up pulling a moan from herself.

Tony leaned in closer deepening the kiss, one hand running down to squeeze a handful of her ass. “I need to go and check on dinner” Belle whispered against his lips

“Well I need to check on whats under that sweater” he more or less groveled back 

Belle laughed  slapping him gently on his chest “ Back up Mr and if you’re good I’ll let you have a look later”

Tony let her go but gave her a stinging slap on her behind as soon as she headed away from him before he went to look out the front door.  

“Ah mulled wine too” 

“Yep, I made us a beef stew and the rice is nearly done, I figured mulled wine would be a nice way to finish dinner”

“That sounds and smells amazing” His lips were back on her neck and arms around her waist “I just had a look outside and checked in with FRIDAY we’re pretty much snowed in, and the storm isn’t going to let up for at least 24 hours”

“So you’re saying that we are stranded here, all alone together for at least 24 hours, what ever will we do Mr Stark?”  Belle couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice

“Oh don’t you worry Agent Porter I’ve got plans for you”

[cookiedoughmeagain]

Haven DVD Commentaries: 4.08 - Crush

Commentary with Speed Weed (yes, that is actually his name), writer for the episode and Shernold Edwards, writer for the next episode

[As we see Duke burying Wade] SW: “This was the very first day of filming for this episode and I thought Eric just knocked this out of the park.” They really dug a hole in the ground for Eric to roll a dummy into. The location is near their production office in Chester.

Both commentators agree on the cuteness/adorableness of Emma Lahana as Jennifer.

SW talks about the deleted scene of Nathan and Audrey waking up together; it’s on the DVD, it’s also online. “Since 4.07 ended with them jumping into each other’s arms we wanted to open with that, but it got cut basically for length. Because of the big emotional scene at the end of the episode (which also takes places in Audrey’s apartment), we wanted to have space for that to breathe.” SE: “Don’t be upset about that though fans, because I try to throw in them making out wherever I possibly can.”

[As Duke is telling Jennifer in the Herald that he’s leaving town] SW: “I just love what Eric did here. He’s an actor who when you push his character to the edge he really performs well. We get him to this place where because he’s killed his brother he decides he should leave town, and I just love this moment of performance. And actors tell me that when you’re acting against someone who’s really solid it makes it all the more special, and to have Emma on the other side of it was great.”

[As Duke first sees the effects of the pressure Trouble in the road] SW: “We had originally scripted that the effects of this pressure Trouble were to be seen as an advancing sea-green wave. For a variety of reasons we decided not to do it that was but that mean production had to make all of these things implode because of the growing pressure .. and just hats off to the production team who created all these things with a pressure differential and got them to crush like that.” SE: “In case you haven’t figured it out already, Speed’s the science guy.” SE: “It’s true. I spend about 10 years writing science magazine articles for Discover Magazine, National Geographic, popular science.” And as this is the first commentary he’s ever done he just wants to take the opportunity to say “Speed Weed is my name; Weed is my family last name, and Speed is not my legal name but is a nickname my parents gave me the day I was born. I’ve had it my entire life and I’ve never used any other name.”

[As we see the decompression chamber that Duke and Jack put Vince and Dave into] SW: “So they built that. [*surprise from Shernold*] Our fantastic art department headed by Jennifer Stewart built that out of metal and wood and cardboard and it looks so good and so real. And they did it in a way that you can shoot the inside and the outside.” SE: “It looks really good! They even dirtied up the windows.” It was set up at a location called North West Cove, and is about 300 yards from the Grey Gull [the location in reality that is, not in the story].

[As we see Duke argue with Audrey and Nathan on their way to speak to Vince and Dave outside the compression chamber] SW: “This is one of my favourite scenes in this episode because I love it when you get your main characters hot at each other. And they are really hot here and they have reason to be. The challenge as we designed these epsiodes is to make sure that things are grounded and real and people have real emotional core as to why they feel the way they feel and argue the way they argue. By the way the light up there is phemnomenal. This scene was at sun set and the light was gorgeous.

They have a selection of questions soliticted via Twitter and pick one out of a hat; “I’d love to know the reactions of some of the actors when they learned what their characters were doing next.” SW: “This is a really good question, but the truth is the actors read the scripts when they get them; alone at their houses or in their trailers. And I would love to be a fly on the brain, if you will, to know what their first thoughts are. Because they are the people who inhabit these characters and it’s our job to make sure that we take them in interesting and suprising directions and yet ones that are also emotionally grounded. And we have actors that care about their characters and they push back on us if they don’t feel that what they’re doing is justified…. And they’re fiercely protective of their characters in a really great way. So I wish I could answer that first moment of what they feel like when they react.” And he talks about the process of shooting, about how for the 7 days they’re shooting one episode they will also be prepping the next one - and so that’s the point where actors get to talk to the writers and make any comments. “And more often than not it’s just a case of having a conversation and coming to an understanding. On this particular episode I don’t remember any reactions other than, ‘That’s great!’”

Another question from Twitter; “How long had William’s existence been plotted?” SW: “So, we had never imagined that whoever created the Troubles acted alone. So in a sense, William has been around for a very long time. I will say that the specificity of William came about in the very early stages of our designing season 4 (which would have been January 2013 when I first joined the show).

They both talk about the actor playing Aiden (lead on a Canadian show called The Listener that Shernold worked on) and what a good job he did and how he had no prep; they only got to talk to him once he was on set in costume already. And about what a great job the director for the episode did, how he is great at bringing out performances from the actors.

The horseshoe crabs with human eyes that Jennifer sees where built by the production team using a real horseshoe crab carapace (which curiously enough are all over the place in Maine but don’t exist in Nova Scotia, so they had to buy one from afar). And they painted human eyes on it and mounted it on a little remote control car.

Another Twitter question; “Since you were new to writing for Haven last season, what did it take to up to speed with the series?” SW: “This is my first genre show. Prior to writing for this, I wrote for police procedurals and political shows largely, and this is my first sci-fi/fantasy show and I have to say I’m so excited that this is the show I landed in on because if I’d landed on a zombie show or a vampire show or something like that, you have maybe five rules that you have to follow. This show tests you so hard as an intelligent human being because every week we reinvent the wheel. We invent the rules of the day. And so to answer the question, it took me a long time. And the writing staff here was incredibly welcoming to a guy who didn’t have a lot of genre experience. Honestly, in this room a lot of pitches start something like this; ‘Do you remember in the third reel of the second resident evil movie….?’ and I’m totally lost with that kind of thing. I look around the table and everyone else is nodding like they know exactly what’s going on and I have no clue whatsoever. But it’s such a warm and familial room… and I guess the nice thing is that you can make up your rules with every episode. So we were very specific with the pressure rules of this and we spent a long time on the paranoia rules of episode 4.09.”

SE: “What is Duke doing with that flip phone? You know he wants to press some buttons.” SW: “Duke only has like, steampunk phones.”

[As Duke and Nathan argue after talking with Jack] SW: “Oh here comes the punch, I’m so excited for this punch.” SE: “He is so good looking.” SW: “We have actors who largely do their own stunts. There!” SE: “Oooh that was good!” SW: “Yep. And so the way they do that is, they will shoot two versions of that. They will go full speed to the moment where the fist hits the face, and they freeze. And as they freeze, the AD calls make up and make up runs in and puts the blood on Duke’s fist and Nathan’s chin and they continue through the action. And then in post you marry it together so you have a full sweep of the fist going through.” SE: “How often do they forget to pull the punch though? Do they smack him for real?” SW: “Well, on that they were perfect. He moved his fist really fast, and stopped it immediately as he touched Lucas Bryant’s chin. They’re good at that..” [As Duke pulls up in the van with the deep sea diving equipment inside] SW: “There’s a moment here I wanted to shout out to about Eric Balfour’s physicality … Oh here it is, so I hope this ends up on the blooper reel; in one take, as Duke got out of this Dominion Diving van - we’re at the top of a giant hill in Lunenberg here - he forgot to put the parking brake on and the van started rolling downhill and honestly all of us thought that this van was going to go 200 feet vertically downhill and kill someone. And Eric Balfour god bless him, got in that van and stopped it in a way I don’t think any other actor could have.” SW: “OK so the suits; these are real, deep sea, pressure diving suits. They were provided to us by a deep sea salvage company near Halifax called Dominion Diving. It was part of our agreement that we got to use their van and show their name in the take. So for most of this, unless you can see the actor’s face, these are actually the Dominion Diving guys walking in their own suits. And they are really heavy suits because they’re meant to be used under water where they’re neutrally boyant, but on land … All I can tell you is Eric and Lucas spent the better part of a day in those suits and if they put them on for 10 minutes they were sweating like hell. And the same is true of Emily and god bless her because she did a great job and she had a baby just a few months before and she was totally game getting in these suits and doing all this stuff and it was very physically challenging.”

Another Twitter question; “Since it was the same day from one episode to the next (8 and 9) how much time is spent discussing the transition?” SE: “We have to plan that, we have  to make it realistic. And I thought it was particularly clever with these two episodes because there’s the drama of the shot going off in 8 and then rolled it back in 9 to see what actually happened… So yes, to answer the question we do plan - hopefully effectively - between transitions like this.” SW: “It is very tempting in these shows to not have a nighttime and a session of sleep pass. And there are differing opinions (both in this writers’ room and writers’ rooms in general) to not slow down the drama by having a day pass. One feeling is that you have to be true to reality; you can’t have a 26 hour daylight day. The other feeling is; most people don’t notice. And in the tension between those two; you get what you get. It’s a great question because it means that people are really paying attention.” [As Duke and Nathan get their helmets off] SW: “You can see here how sweaty these guys are and in this take they haven’t had the suits on for very long; they’re just super heavy. And those guys loved that. They had so much fun in those suits; it was such a departure for them.”

SE [About Duke]: He is /so/ good looking. I guess we know which team I’m on. Actually, I am neither waffle nor pancake, I am team Shuke because if Duke was real character there would be no competition. He would be like ‘Shernold, where’ve you been all my life?’ And I would be like, ‘I’m right here, what took you so long?’” SW: “Have you told Eric that?” SE: “It’s Duke. Not Eric. Eric and I have a friendship that’s based on professionalism and respect and fun. But if there was a Duke-Duke, like a /real/ Duke...” [As we see Jennifer inside the Rouge] SW: “Oh here it comes … this scene. Duke’s changed his mind. So as this is being shot [Duke kissing Jennifer] I’m sitting about where the kitchen is and this was really hot. I’ll just say it; it was hot. These two had a chemistry for sure.” SE: “And she is adorable.”

[As we see Audrey and Nathan in her apartment] SE: “I can’t say enough about how great these two are in this scene.The truth is our actors love - they’ve have fun with the suits and all that, but when they get to do what we call a two-hander and just play the emotion (especially something that’s built up over three seasons) and dig deep into how their characters feel about each other, I do think I’m not speaking out of turn when I say that this is one of their favourite things to do. And it seemed like this, they treated it like a short play, and they get to run it through without stopping. And I think that’s when we see them at their best.” SW: “There were lot of questions about this scene from the Twitterverse and someone asked a very smart question about how the actors prepped for that scene.” So this conversation where they are coming to the decision that maybe Audrey should shoot Nathan, is cut into three or four scenes in the edit, but on the day they shot it through all in one go. “And I really want to take my hat off to the director and to Emily and Lucas, because, we live in a world where supernatural things don’t happen …” SE: “That we know of.” SW: “... people don’t have to shoot their one true love in order to end supernatural Troubles. And yet for this scene to work, it has to be real and grounded, and you have to decide that the greater good and the best thing is that you have to kill your one true love. And they (the actors) knew that’s a tall order; it’s not easy. And they took this so seriously. And I was so affected watching this. And we didn’t do a huge amount of sizes because we knew we wanted to be close in this - by that I mean how close is the camera on the actors. If I remember correctly the director was thinking that they might want to break them up and shoot them bit by bit,” so that Emily could do multiple takes at the emotional level 1, then move to the next level for multiple takes, then stay at the final level for multiple takes, “but god bless her Emily decided to do the whole rise and the whole arc of it time after time, take after take. And I can’t really answer the question because when they were at home two days before this I don’t know how they prepared for it. But I do know that when they showed up on set that day they were ready. Both for the lovey-dovey scene at the beginning of the episode [which was shot directly before this] and for the awfulness of this scene at the end of the episode. The emotional difficulty of it.” SE: “And I would gues that these two - they’re such terrific friends too and their families are close everything - would pick up the phone and talk to each other about it, or that they would get on set and just be in the moment.”

[As Duke, Jennifer, Vince and Dave are talking at the bottom of the steps outside the Gull] SE: “Quick point of local interest; John Dunsworth who plays Dave, you can almost see it in that shot of Duke, his family owns like a hundred acres of coastal land right next to the Grey Gull. And at lunch on this day, he took me to his private dock and out on a boat ride around the cove and it was one of my most memorable experiences from my time up there I really enjoyed it.” SE: “He’s so much fun.”

[momoiina]

Only One Month: Ch. 6

Chapter Six: The Blue Takes Her

Author’s note: the last chapter! :O I hope you enjoy!!

The last week of their arrangement comes with rain and foggy landscapes. After the soccer match the week before, Boruto has been doing the utmost to make it up to Sarada, taking her to restaurants and filling up her free time with as much laughter and warmth as possible. This time, however, Sarada has insisted on planning the whole thing. She finally wants to take it to the next level with Boruto.

Whenever she suggested during the past weeks to move to something further than just making out, Boruto stalled. The first time, she assumes, it was because of Chocho being next door and she doubts Boruto would like to sleep with her or stay the night if Chocho is sitting on the other side of the wall, listening.

The other time, his teammates could have come in any second – and while it had frustrated her, she also had to admit that he had been right.

This time will be different though. Chocho is at her parents’ home, away for the break, and Sarada had the dorm to herself. Boruto will come over by 3 pm, so by 2 pm, Sarada has cleaned the house, showered and cooked a meal for the two of them. She also manages to find her best underwear and a pretty dress to wear on top. The lasagna she made is ready to be served and only needs to be reheated quickly in the microwave.

But it turns out, Boruto is late, because by 3:30 pm he still hasn’t arrived and Sarada is starting to get anxious. Either she has gotten ditched by him or something happened and he cannot make it to her.

Retrieving her phone from her bag, she types in a quick message.

You: Hey, where are you? Everything alright? We had a date at 3, remember? Sent: 3:34 pm

Boruto: No I haven’t forgotten! How could I forget you? traffic is just shit Sent: 3:45 pm

You: So you’re on your way? Good! I put on a nice dress, just for you! ♥ Sent: 3:46 pm

Boruto: Yeah, I’ll be there in ten Sent: 3:56 pm

Sarada knows ‘the traffic’ isn’t shit at this time of the day, the most traffic flows away from her house during this hour, but she doesn’t mention it to him in another text. Instead, she beings to pace anxiously across her bedroom. He sounded distant, she thinks. Why does he sound so distant? It took minutes to reply to her when usually he would reply on the spot. Maybe he hasn’t left the house yet and is just looking for an excuse so she won’t get angry with him?

Now that seems like Boruto, but he’s never been late to any of their dates. He’s been punctual, always there on point, never a minute late. Their dates had been too important to him to be late – or at least that’s what she thought.

For a terrifying moment, Sarada firmly believed that whatever evolved between them in the past weeks only existed in her head, but she knows this to be an untruth. There’s no other way.

And just like he said in his messages, ten minutes later Boruto appears at her front door, dressed casually. When she leans in to hug him, he lacks of the scent of his aftershave, the one that she likes so much. This, too, confuses her. He’s always made sure to smell nice for her these past weeks, even at university.

She likes this scent.

“Well, you certainly took forever. The food is all cold I bet,” Sarada tells him.

“You cooked for me?” His eyes widen as if her cooking for him surprises him. “What did you cook?”

“Lasagna. With feta cheese and garlic. I’m sure you’ll like it. Come in,” she replies, taking his jacket and hanging it nearby the door. He looks around and Sarada gets the sensation that he feels lost. He looks lost.

“Is everything alright?”

His eyes snap back to her and he manages an easy smile. She sees through the face mask with ease.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sarada puts both her hands onto her hips and tilts her head to the side, eyes shrewd. “Somehow, I don’t believe you. You look like something bad happened. You can talk to me, you know?” she says before leaning towards him gain with friendly demeanor.

For a second he hesitates and her stomach drops about ten feet below. Quickly her mind skims over every bad thing that could have happened in the last twelve hours. There are no traces of tears on his face, no red cheeks. He hasn’t cried and Boruto – despite trying to come off as extremely manly and collected – is the type to cry when upset, depending on the situation.

“Is Chocho in her room?” he asks, scratching his head.

“No,” Sarada replies, “she has returned home to her parents for the break. She won’t be back for another two weeks.”

“Ah,” Boruto says, but doesn’t elaborate. The silence is heavy in the room, like a third person who is watching them with accusing eyes, every little breath is loud in her ears.

“So…do you want to have dinner or not?” This time, Sarada’s voice has no playfulness, just a factual tone. She demands an answer, Boruto must know this, his behavior is too strange to be excused without a reason.

“I can’t stay.”

“You…what? Why?” Her voice is a tone too high even to her own ears.

His shoulders sag, suddenly he looks exhausted, years older than mere 23 years. When he looks at her, his eyes are still the same blue shade that she has spent years looking at. Blue like the sea, blue like the sky during its best hours, blue moon. But there is something else too, it takes her a moment to understand it.

Looks like…fear.

“I can’t stay with you.”

Sarada stops herself from flinching, even blinking, her hands falling loosely down her sides, limp and useless. There is no feeling left in her fingers, her hands, her arms. There is a sudden disconnect between her, her body. Between her and Boruto. She doesn’t see the blue in his eyes anymore, his face is engulfed in the dark of the fleeting evening sun.

She bites down on her tongue by accident, almost choking and then swallows her saliva.

Tastes like…gun metal. She doesn’t like this taste.

“Wha-What do you mean, exactly?” she whispers. With the silence so heavy in the air, Boruto must hear her clear enough.

“I just can’t do this anymore, alright? The dating. It’s just…it’s no good for me anymore, you know? I mean…” Boruto wants to explain but when Sarada steps closer he trails off. Her body still is not connected to her brain, to the now new and all-consuming reality.

“What exactly do you mean with ‘no good’?”

He has enough shame to lower his eyes and stare at his feet as he explains. “I just can’t take this anymore. Dating you was good and all, but I don’t have the endurance to continue this-“ he motions between them with his fingers as if she cannot understand “- anymore. I, uh, I guess I am sorry for wasting your time.” Boruto grimaces as he looks into Sarada’s eyes. She isn’t crying, not yet at any rate, but she is confused and hurt.

Her brain tries to make her come up with a variety of curses or demands that Boruto needs to follow, but her body isn’t hers at the moment. She can only stare at the boy in front of her. When she doesn’t try to talk to him anymore, it seems he figures that he said all he needed to say.

He doesn’t leave a trace as he leaves her dorm, only the car’s engine roaring, first still near, then further and further away from her until she only hears her own breath. His feet do not leave prints behind, nor does his scent linger. Sarada supposes that without the cologne his scent just isn’t that strong perhaps.

Not strong enough to stay with her at any rate. She misses his scent.

The disconnect between her mind and her body comes to a stop in sudden waves. At first she lifts her hands, watches them tremble, then her mind catches up with her legs and she sinks to the floor. With a thud she is on her knees, ready for a prayer, but her voice does not yet come to her.

Next are her lungs, filling with air, bigger and bigger until her breath shudders. At first a sigh, then a sob, followed by a second one. Tears spill over the brim of her eyes and fall to the ground as she shakes without control. Faintly, she can make out noise from the outside world. Has it begun to rain outside as well? Or is it just her, raining by herself, on the ground, knees and hands almost ready for a prayer to save herself?

The last thing to return to her is her voice.

“Oh God,” she cries, all by herself, not praying, but cradling herself, “Oh God, he left, he really left.”

She lets her head sink onto the wooden floor, her body rushing forward and spilling over the floor in one single, fluid wave. As she holds herself together, holding herself to not spill over, she does not pray to anyone.

She lets the blue take her.

----

One, two, three, four, five, six – with a single, solid punch he manages to push the bag as far away from him as possible. In those movies the super heroes always manage to punch these sandbags down and into a wall, but that is not reality. Or maybe he just isn’t a hero.

It’s been three days since he broke up with Sarada and he is still miserable because of it. Not that he expects this to change very soon, but the constant heartache is enough to make him want to punch something other than a bag.

“Your aim is getting sloppy, Boruto. Are you thinking about Sarada again?” The tone in Mitsuki’s voice is not mean or cruel. It is matter-of-fact, no feelings attached. Still, Boruto wants to punch him for even saying her name. It’s hard enough to think about her, worse if he has to talk about her. Mitsuki had been the one to find him crying in his room, alone and miserable. Mitsuki didn’t ask any questions besides the bare minimum and just made Boruto watch a movie with him. Boruto was glad for the distraction, but it didn’t help.

He is already terrified of the beginning of the next semester. How will he deal with Sarada looking at him from now? Will she look at him at all? The thought is unbearable, too painful to even think about and so he pushes the thought out of his head with every punch he takes at the bag.

He and Mitsuki train for another 10 minutes before another figure enters the gym behind him and he can immediately tell who it is, just by the figure and vague hair. Chocho is making her way across the floor, right to him.

As if he doesn’t feel bad enough already.

“Boruto!”

Before turning to her he wipes the sweat from his forehead and takes a sip of water, better to brace himself on the inside for what is about to come. He doesn’t look at Chocho, but she doesn’t need any cues to start talking to him.

“I can’t believe you would do this, I just cannot. I thought you were going to be good for her, but really, you’re just one big disappointment! I should have never encouraged her to go out with you! I should have tried to get her to date anyone but you!” she yells, while a few other people stare them down from across the room.

“Chocho, can you please lower your voice?” Boruto bites back. Talking about Sarada makes his heart ache and he doesn’t want to break down in the middle of the gym.

“NO! I CANNOT!”

Her voice is loud enough to create an echo and Mitsuki comes around and places a hand on her shoulder with a smile. “How about we calm down and you talk to Boruto in a lower voice – people generally tend to listen more when they do not get yelled at.” For a moment, Chocho looks like she is going to murder Mitsuki, but then she just turns around, exhales in the most dramatic way and looks at Boruto again.

“You really broke her heart,” she begins to explain, “do you know that? That was so incredibly cruel of you, I can’t believe it. I thought you were better than this.”

“I don’t think I broke her heart,” he retorts. “She looked surprised when I left but otherwise she looked alright. She didn’t even ask me to stay or anything, you know?”

“Because she was in shock! She told me everything, about the nice evening she had planned for you two, the food, everything!” Chocho gestures with her arms. “And you just dumped her! What kind of behavior was that? I thought you’re in love with her?”

Heat lights up in his chest and the pain it creates is like white fire on bare skin. “Of course I love her, you know I do, everyone knows I do because I am a big blond idiot.” Boruto bites on his molars to cause himself from saying other, more personal things, things that are none of Chocho’s or Mitsuki’s business.

“The question was if she was in love with me. Yes, she might have liked going out with me but she could have still dumped me.” And I wouldn’t have been able to bear getting dumped by her, he thinks. I would have never recovered.

“You didn’t know if she was in love with you too?” Chocho voice drops to an angry whisper. “Whoa, you’re really dumb. I expected more of you.”

“Well, yeah, and what did you expect of me?” he replies with biting sarcasm.

“I expected you to notice that she prepared an entire date night with you. I know that she tried several times to initiate sex with you – and you refused.” She sounds like she is explaining the obvious.

“She wanted to go all the way with you and you were the one that didn’t go along. Are you shy? Or why are you behaving like this?”

“That is so none of your business.”

“I know it’s not! But what I know for a fact is that Sarada is at home, bawling her eyes out and she was so devastated she called me to come take care of her even though I was on a break from school with my parents.”

She’s crying, fuck, he hates it when she cries. Sarada doesn’t cry a lot, she bears most hurdles in life with a stoic attitude, but it has happened before that he witnessed her breaking down and cry. He’s hated people crying since he was a boy and old enough to become protective of his little sister. As a big brother he’d naturally taken on the role of a protector, but Himawari would sometimes cry nonetheless. Somehow, Sarada crying is different and at the same time worse.

Because I make her unhappy, he tells himself in silence.

“Fuck, I mean, I didn’t want to disappoint her with that cancelled date, I really didn’t mean to, it’s just…I just can’t go there with her. All the way. She’s not really my girlfriend, I just can’t.”

Opening himself up only to be dumped in the end isn’t in his plans, he wouldn’t recover. So better to get this over with sooner than later.

“She’s not disappointed about the date, she is disappointed you dumped her!”

“Huh?” The world suddenly spins around him and he has to take a step back. What Chocho just said doesn’t make sense to him. On a certain level he understood what she said, word by word, but he cannot make out the actual meaning.

Why would Sarada be disappointed – unless she had planned to continue dating him of course. But would she really do that?

“How do you know this,” he asks her. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I have known my best friend for most of her life.”

And just like that, he takes off with a dead run, Mitsuki calling after him, “Is our training session cancelled?”

“It better be.”

Yeah, he’s got something else to do right now, he has to get his girl back.

The drive over to her place is painfully long, in spite of him driving well over the tempo limit. If he gets caught by the police, his driver’s license is done for and his father is going to take away his car too. Plus, whatever fee he’d receive would bite him in the ass as well. He’d like to call her while driving to make sure she doesn’t leave the house, but he’s not quite that lax about breaking the driving laws.

He turns into her street still sweaty from his workout, but now with a fierce determination instead of dreadful anxiety fueling him. He wastes no time checking his appearance, it’s useless now at any rate. He’s sweaty, still in gym clothes and he hasn’t shaved this morning so his chin is covered in blond stubble.

At first he thinks that she may really not be home, but then his ears pick up on her light steps behind the door and he starts to grin as she opens the door for him.

“Hey…” he begins, but cannot finish his sentence. Her face is blotchy and she isn’t wearing her glasses. Her eyes are red enough to let him know that yes Chocho didn’t lie. Sarada has been crying. The guilt takes physical form inside his guts with painful stabs.

“Hey.” Her face is somber, not smiling or friendly. She’s really hurt.

“I came back.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, “I can see.”

He scratches his chin before leaning in. “Can I come in? It’s easier to explain with privacy, you know?” She doesn’t reply and just lets him slip past her into the hall.

“I’ve come back because Chocho talked to me just about 25 minutes ago. She was hella mad at me.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s typically Chocho.”

“And what she told me really got me thinking and, yeah,” he says, cheeks red, scratching his whiskers again. His prior fierce attitude vanishes with each passing second. He sighs, “Anyway, I want to apologize to you. I owe you an apology for dumping you and I was wondering if you’d hear me out.”

Sarada simply shrugs with a quick motion; he takes this as a yes.

“I know I am stupid, sometimes at the very least. And when you and I got a thing, I was so happy, but the more we went out, I don’t know, the more attached I became. And with each passing date I thought about the end of our deal. I assumed you would dump me.

“And you see, I’m also a coward, often enough at least. So I decided to dump you before you could do it to me. But really, I didn’t want to dump you, I wanted to continue what we had!” He uses his hands to gesture wildly and hopefully make her understand at least a tiny bit of what he wants to express.

“And I guess, what I want to say is, what I need to say is, that I am really in fucking love with you. Have been for a while. Dumping you out of fear was dumb and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

He looks into her eyes, eager to receive an answer but she keeps looking at his hands. Sarada is motionless and white, even soundless.

Please say something, please just say something.

But she doesn’t speak, instead she wraps two arms around herself and begins to cry again.

“Oh, no, please don’t cry.” Without hesitation he engulfs her with his arms, pulling her against his chest in a gentle embrace. “Did I do something wrong again?” She shakes her head and sniffs, then buries her face in his chest.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong now. I’m so glad you’ve come back to talk to me,” she whispers, pressing her nose against the fabric of his shirt and inhaling. “These past three days were awful. I don’t want you to leave again.”

Boruto chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “I don’t plan on leaving you again.” Not so soon if he can manage it.

“You’re sweaty though,” she mumbles and they laugh in union and Boruto squeezes her even tighter. “Yeah, I worked out before I got here.”

“Oh yeah? Well then you need to take a shower.”

They both look at each other and this time Boruto doesn’t pull away. Instead he dives deep and kisses her, first softly, then with more depth until they both forget about the past awful days.

“Also,” Sarada begins to tell him as they head towards the bathroom, “in case you haven’t noticed yet. I want to take a shower with you because I want you whole. All of you, entirely. Because I also love you.”

He smiles and pulls her closer again, for one, two kisses, because after only one month, this is all he ever wanted.

[peachymhaechan]

“I didn't know it’d be this hard...”

Genre: fluff, soulmate! au where you switch bodies when you turn 21 and have until the clock strikes midnight to leave clues and find your soulmate before you’re switched back into your own body

Warning: language

Pairing: Jungwoo x Reader

A/N: hey y’all, this marks the beginning of my soulmate au project! I thought that Jungwoo would be the best to start this off with because he is such a sweetheart and the definition of living fluff lol. anyways, pls enjoy this! 

it was common knowledge in your family what your soulmate quirk was 

typically, you find out what your soulmate quirk is when you’re younger

one of your friends had a little flower start growing behind her ear and it kept getting closer to blooming as the days counted down before she met her soulmate

once she met her soulmate, the flower bloomed and guess what? her soulmate had the same phenomenon happen to her

when you were little, you had to watch on the sidelines as all of your friends figured out their quirks

after a while, you had completely given up on the idea of having a soulmate

it wasn’t common to not have a soulmate, but it did happen in some cases

either someone never developed their quirk or their soulmate died

whatever the case may be, you were accepting of the fact that you didn’t have a soulmate

your friends and family tried to convince you that your soulmate was still out there

after all, your family for some odd reason had the same quirk

I mean, not everyone in your family did, but a lot of your relatives dealt with the same thing

they wouldn’t experience anything to be considered a quirk

until they hit their 21st birthday

when they’d wake up in a completely different body

wow, a very vivid out of body experience

that meant that the mind of the body you were in had to be in your body, right?

that’s exactly how it worked

and at the strike of midnight, you would switch back to your own body

so you had one whole day to figure out who your soulmate is and meet them

otherwise you could be spending the rest of your life without a soulmate

which would suck!! :(

SO

your family all tried to reassure you that that was most likely your quirk, but you had convinced yourself over the years that you’d never find them

the night before your 21st birthday, you had gone to bed early after a day of nasty a 8 AM class and work

you slept like a baby pretty much

and then you woke up on your birthday

looked in the mirror

and found the face of someone else staring back at you

holy shit

all you could think was “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”

after you calmed down a bit, you remembered all that your family had told you

you have all day (since it’s their birthday, too)

they’re in your body, in probably just as much of a panic as you are

you have until the strike of midnight to be in their body and lay clues around

you don’t have any of their memories/knowledge of their life

so that means you cannot go on their phone or laptop and follow yourself on social media from their account

you have to lay honest to god clues around so you can meet them

bc if you don’t find them? you won’t have them for the rest of your life

SO

this chance could not be taken for granted

deciding to make the most of this

and, ya know, FIND YOUR SOULMATE

you got up and went to the bathroom

you looked in the mirror again and found yourself looking at the face of your soulmate

he was high key adorable?? wtf

the very definition of uwu

a full marshmallow boy !! 

someone you’d look at and want to call bub

squishy cheeks!! 

cute smile !!

but you also recognized him as someone that you never would have expected like. ? 

how in the WORLD????

ANYWAYS

you were just about to leave the bathroom when you heard voices outside the bathroom

“hasn’t jungwoo hyung been in there for a while?” “yeah, I hope he’s okay haha” 

“ohhhhhh  hYUNG, OPEN UP-” and a group of young boys tumbled in after fucking,,, beating the door down

“are you okay, hyung?” one of them asked, a boy a dolphin laugh

“you look like you don't know who we are”

“listen.... to be 100% completely honest with you guys,” you started, hoping they could help you

“oh here we go, he’s going to give us some smartass response,” the tan boy rolled his eyes

“I know who you guys are but I need you all to do me a solid,” you told them

“I need you to tell me where I am right now, and I need you guys to help me get out of everything on our schedule for today,” you told them, causing them to pretty much blank

all seven of them stared back at you with no emotion

and then finally the oldest went, “you want us to... tell you where you are and... get you out of performing today?” 

“I know it sounds crazy but- you have to or else- I might not meet my soulmate...” 

luckily they didn’t ask any more questions and agreed

after all, jungwoo meeting his soulmate was on the line

the boys pulled you out to the living room where you met the other boys and told them what was going on

“so yeah... I’m not really Jungwoo right now although I mean physically I am but... his mind is in my body and mine is in his and I have to find him- er, me I guess...” 

and you were #blessed to have them on your side

they all came up with this master plan to get you out of performing that evening

they were going to have at least 5+ of them act like they came down with food poisoning so it would be pointless to have the remaining not vomiting/shitting people perform

a solid plan, tbh

“you all are truly angels and I owe you so much, thank you all so much, oh my god,” you said and started running around and kissing them all on the cheek

they all didn’t know how to react to it bc ?? jungwoo but not jungwoo ?? 

“I promise, when I find him we will take you all out for dinner, on us,” you said, which made everyone get excited and start hugging you instead 

“is there anything else I should know about him before I just wander out into the world in his body and try and find myself?” 

“he likes going to little cafes when he is stressed!” -lucas, a god and best best friend ever

so you set out (with a hat and mask on obviously, you were on a mission and this isn’t amateur hour)

and began to find your way back to your house

but bc you were in the body of nct’s jungwoo

people mcfuckin recognized you and asked for pictures

shit shit shit

you had absolutely no idea how to act around fans

like,, sure,, jungwoo might know how to verbalize heart emojis but you sure as hell didn’t

so you had a lot of interactions that went like such: 

“are you jungwoo from NCT?!” 

“yes!” 

“OMG can I get a picture with you?” 

“Of course!”

“OMG thank you, I love you so much, you’ve inspired me-” (insert rambling here)

*just nod the whole time and smile*

“thank you! you inspire me to keep doing what I’m doing!” >but very awkward

it took you well over two hours to get to your house 

and boy when you got there

it was a little difficult to explain to your parents why you were there

“hey uhhh Mom and Dad, can you let me/my soulmate’s body in the house?” 

of course they knew what was going on

so they let you in and made you food (even though you said you weren't hungry, they were more worried about feeding their future son-in-law)

“You just missed him, honey, he left twenty minutes ago to find you,” your mother told you and you shut down

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Well do you have his cell phone?” 

“Yes but I don’t know his password.” 

so cheating the quirk was out of question

“All I know about him is where the dorms are, he has a performance at this one arena, and he likes to go to small cafes when he is stressed.” 

“It might not seem like a lot, but it is a start, hon. You know what you have to do,” you father said, politely telling you to get out of the house and find him

after giving yourself a lil pep talk

(pretty much just you saying “GO GET YA MANS, HUNTY”) 

you were set:)

SO

“i’m going to get my mans”

and oh man

did you

you had a little under 10 hours left to find him

first stop: check to see if any of your friends had seen you 

you went to your best friend’s house, not giving a shit that you technically were not you

“Hey, I don’t have enough time to explain but did you see Y/N today?” 

cue best friend chilling on their doorstep in complete shock 

“uhhhhhhh yeah, she was here earlier and said she was going to the uhh. The NCT concert tonight after running around the city to find someone. I’m assuming that person is you.” 

“Yep, that’d be correct... thank you!” 

“Should I- should I tell her you stopped by?” 

well it ain’t like he can get in my phone, so no BUT

he could at least see the notification on the screen so why not?? 

it wouldn’t hurt to try

“Sure, if you don’t mind doing that. Oh, and one more thing? Can you tell her to go to the Red Ring Café after the concert? Thank you, I appreciate it!” 

fuck

at least you knew he’d be in two definite locations later: 

the café and the concert

uhhhhhhhhh the concert that you were supposed to be performing at

well you couldn’t go there, so you’d have to catch him at the café 

“I didn’t know it’d be this hard...”

the rest of the day was spent wandering around, trying to keep yourself out of the public’s eye but also trying to find yourself

so very confusing and soul crushing

the concert rolled around and you being you

managed to find yourself outside of the venue

you could hear the music and fans screaming from the outside and it killed you to know that your soulmate was in there

luckily nobody noticed you/one of the members of the band

you went to the café just as the concert was about to end

you ordered a latte and sat in the corner, eyes constantly on the door

your heart was beating out of your (his?) chest 

about five minutes before the café was going to close, and five minutes before you were going to switch back, you (he?) walked in

you ordered and after you picked up your drink, you saw him (you?)

fuck fuck fuck

you walked over and sat down across from you (wow, confusing I know)

“are you my soulmate?” you (really Jungwoo asked)

“yeah, that’s me!” you (actually you in Jungwoo’s body) said, tearing up from being so excited

you both sat there in silence, not knowing what to do

you had to admit- it was weird af to see yourself from somebody else’s eyes

but the five minutes came and went by very fast

and before you knew it

you were back in your own body, looking at your soulmate in his own body

kim jungwoo

kim jungwoo?

kim jungwoo.

kim jungwoo!

kim jungwoo was your soulmate!! 

he grabbed your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours, going full uwu

“You’re really my soulmate?” he asked, just wanting to be 100% sure 

(he also couldn’t believe that you, a beautiful human being, was meant to be his for the rest of his life) 

“Yep, I’m really your soulmate,” he confirmed

since the café was closing, y’all decided to take a walk by the river and get to know one another

after talking for almost three hours, you realized that you were glad you had a soulmate

everything had been said in total agreement

you two just... clicked?? it wasn’t like anything you had ever experienced before

“You know, I convinced myself that I would never find you, or even have you...” you told him, eyes fixed ahead

“Me, too. But I’m so incredibly lucky to have you,” he responded, looking at you (again, full uwu) 

I think it’s safe to say that you ended your birthday a pretty happy camper

for starters, you were 21!

but more importantly, your soulmate! 

your kim jungwoo! 

and you wouldn’t ask for anything more, because kim jungwoo??

the perfect gift you could have asked for

[that1normalkidd]

Monsters Don’t Need Hearts Chapter 3

Madness.

This was nothing more than madness.

With every day that passed any thought of freedom...of life returning to what it was a year ago diminished to just that...a thought. No longer was it a goal that seemed to be achievable but yet a feeble hallucination which I and many others escaped to.

Hero's who hadn't been rounded up during the first wave of the Chitauri had been caught attempting to start up a resistance against our new 'leader'.  Most of them now calling dingy  30 foot underground cells home.

The Avengers though had their own 'special' cells. Over hearing Loki speaking to one of the cells guards one day he went into great detail about how each cell had to be uniquely designed and built to nullify everyone's abilities. If they didn't have any true power such as Natasha, Clint, and Tony their cells were simple ones with 10 inch thick titanium walls and an unbreakable foreign glass which he had imported from Vanaheim, a realm where powerful sorcerers reigned supreme. Each glass panel was infused with a magic that made it immune to any sort of piercing and bludgeoning damage. It was also impervious to bullets even though it was impossible to sneak any sort of weapon past the guards.

In the wake of Midgard falling I had become Loki's...personal slave in a sense. It was a far from scintillating life. Every day was spent cleaning his chambers, cooking whatever food he desired and many other remedial tasks which the raven haired god was fully capable of doing himself. But with so many servants and slaves why do anything yourself?

His ego inflated with every day that passed, causing him to become more and more reckless. More so the usual 150 to 200 Chitauri patrol squads that were sent during the night to roam the desolate city for any wanderers or people plotting against to overthrow him had turned into 100.  With more and more rebels being thrown into prison what more did he have to fear but himself? In the end Loki would be his own downfall, I would make sure of it.

------

The sky was once again a dim gray, only ever changing to a darker hue as the days went by. Clouds ceased to ever form leaving it a blank canvas littered with hundreds of alien spacecraft. Mothers and fathers held tightly onto their little ones as they traded in their currency for food or clothing. 

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I supported my frame against the ever thin glass of my chambers.  For warmth I hugged myself tightly, rubbing the palms of my hands against my forearms. 

Every day the hate which I had once harbored towards the so called 'god' I, like many others, was forced to call King seemed to diminish. Strangely he had done me no harm much to my dismay.  Neither had he physically harmed any of the other servants he had in his lavish castle. We were clothed in more than comfortable garments and were given the opportunity to eat whenever we finished our daily duties. 

But why?

What was he trying to prove by treating us so much better than the men, women, and children who suffered outside the castle walls? Were these...physical walls some sort of veil for him? A veil which hid the pain of the outside world? 

It angered me that I was slowly being unable to hate the man who threatened to take my only family from me...the man who was the sole reason for my parents being taken from me. Why was it that I was finding it so hard to.. hate him.

I should hate him.

But why cant I?

"(Y/N), the king wants you."

A sudden voice severed me from my absentminded state, causing me to turn to its source. 

All I could do was smile upon seeing who the voice belonged to. 

Alexandria was her name but I called her Alex, or she would belittle me if I called her by her birth name. 

Unable to ever go back out into the world I was once so accustomed to I was forced to create new connections with the people I worked alongside with everyday. Alex and I connected when I accidentally spilled a canister of water on her head. Of course she was infuriated at first but after many apologies and a sly joke it was like it never happened and we chatted the next 5 minutes away while I helped her dry off.

She had hair as red as the blood which coursed through our veins and blue eyes that glistened brightly whenever the smallest sliver of light reflected from them. 

"When doesn't he want me? What is it this time, does he need his sheets changed again?" I laughed, making my way towards the woman whom I had come to call sister.

Alex stifled a laugh before giving me a light punch in the arm, leading me down the grand hall to Loki's chambers.

"Probably. Wouldn't surprise me if he wanted you to bring him some more of your amazing soup."

"What haven't I don't at this point? 10 bucks I'm going to have to start reading to him before he goes to sleep."

The ginger glanced over at me and smiled. "Deal."

Once Alex and I arrived at the door of his bedroom we said our goodbyes for the evening knowing well we would most likely see each other again before we headed to bed.

"See ya later girlie. Remember, 10 bucks!"

She whispered as she disappeared down the corridor.

I waved her off and smiled.

"Whatever. Go eat and read a book!"

Silence

I found myself unable to knock on the wooden door before me. Why? I couldn't even say.

Just knock on the door (Y/N)!

Mentally I cursed at myself.

5 minutes must have gone by before my internal struggle of whether or not to open the door was cut short.

"How long do you plan on standing here I do wonder."

That voice.

My body jumped at the sudden noise and cause me to whip myself around, causing me to then bump into an incredibly solid figure.

Loki..

Quickly I fumbled to find words.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I-I um..."

In response to my evident incoherent state the god of mischief chuckled, his voice deep and smooth...sultry almost.

"Can my kitten not speak?"

Kitten...

Ever since I had become one of his favored servants that was the name he had given me. I wondered if he knew what my birth name was and after a few days of thought I had come to the conclusion that he did but 'kitten' seemed to fit me better in his twisted mind.

Gathering myself and my senses I bowed, as I was to do and looked him in his eyes. Those cold blue orbs always intrigued me...they put a front of strength and not seeming to have any sort of desire to be close to anyone but there were a few moments...very rare moments where they flashed pain, hurt, and loss. A vulnerability which he had never privately shown anyone much less publicly.

"My king...I was told you desired my presence."

Loki continued to stare into my eyes for a moment before then pushing past me and opening the doors to his chambers, gesturing for me to follow.

Unlike the rest of his lavish home his bedroom was quite simple but sophisticated. The bed which rested on the far left wall was fitted with green sheets, engraved in them were golden accents which only added to its beauty. The pillows were gold as well and covered in a thin silk liner to keep them from collecting any sort of dirt or dust. Paintings and pictures of Asgard and Joutenheim decorated every forest green wall. Every time I entered the room there seemed to be some new painting or decoration.

I stood near the foot of the bed and watched as Loki shut the doors behind him.

"Tell me (Y/N). Look outside and tell me what you see."

Seeing a window only a few feet from where I stood I went to it, resting a hand on the wall next to it.

My heart for a moment fluttered with joy as 3 children ran in the streets, playing tag.

"I see children...playing games. Parents buying food, buying clothes."

Within a second Loki was by my side, sharing the same view as I. 

A part of me wanted to question how he had gotten near me so quickly and without making a sound but then just as quickly as the question came to me I dismissed it, knowing the answer.

Magic.

"I want children playing everywhere (Y/N). This realm will be brought to prosperity. Families will no longer go hungry."

Was this...the same Loki, god of Mischief and Trickery who attempted to kill his brother only 3 years ago? The same Loki who attempted to take over only 2 years ago? It couldn't be.

"That can't happen Loki and you know it. There are too many mouths on this world to feed."

Our eyes met once more before I quickly averted mine. 

Another laugh.

"Ah but that is where you lack the mindset to see what I see kitten. When I stayed in Asgard I found that Odin and the other gods were blind to the families who suffered outside of that castle of theirs. Everyday I would walk the streets of what you humans call 'the middle class'. Many of them filthy and begging for food while above them the gods became fat off of their own ignorance. Children who were deemed...different tossed aside. Midgard is just like Asgard in more ways than you dare to think. It will take time yes but with imports from the other 8 realms I will make this place more prosperous than Asgard ever was."

As he spoke his eyes sparked with curiosity and was that...excitement? No. It couldn't possibly be.

This couldn't be the same Loki.

All I could do was listen to his plan...his dream which he most likely had never dared tell anyone else...or maybe everyone else feared him too much to ever give him a chance.

He waved his hand, heading towards his lavish king sized bed.

"I wish to sleep but it has become a rather difficult task the past few days. Read me a book, maybe that will ease my mind."

Seriously?

10 bucks.

Confused, I raised a brow and watched the god remove the thin burgundy shirt which covered his upper body. What was underneath surprised me. He was nowhere near as built as his brother but Loki was no stick. The muscle which he did have defined and toned. Needless to say the way he looked...fit him...well he was a god of course.

I could feel my cheeks heating up with every second my (E/C) orbs stared at his body so I quickly turned to the bookshelf which was to the right of the bed.

"What would you like for me to read?"

A tired sigh left Loki's lips as he pulled the sheets over his lower half, his upper half finding rest on the headrest. "Pick whatever you think is best. I just wish to sleep."

"I see. Don't be mad at me when I pick out some children's lullaby."

It wasn't hard to feel the smirk on his lips.

"I would not be opposed to it."

My (E/C) eyes scanned the spines of each book while my pointer finger felt the leather. Each one with a unique feel to their covers.

Finally I settled on a book called 'The Lost Child.'

I found a wooden seat which had a green cushion somehow sewn on top of the wood giving the chair additional comfort.

Strangely it smelled of him. Lavender and mint. It was relaxing...and soothing to have something that reminded me of him.

Why is that?

Why am I not...thinking of ways to help Thor and the others escape?

Why is it that I'm thinking of him.

The book was of a young boy who couldn't fit anywhere he went. No matter how hard he seemed to try he seemed to end up right back where he started, alone.

"...mama! The boy cried, looking around for the face which always gave the boy joy and happiness, searching for the voice which always brought on comfort and war-."

I cut myself off as I heard the sound of snoring. It wasn't loud by any means but it was just loud enough for me to notice.

Loki had fallen asleep, his body resting on its side with strands of his wavy jet black hair tickling his nose and cheeks.

He looks...peaceful...

I smiled as I sat for a few moments, watching his toned and pale chest rise and fall before standing to my feet. Carefully I pulled the cover over his chest and tucked the book beneath my arm.

"Goodnight...my king."

-That's the end of Chapter 3! I really hope you all are enjoying it! Please feel free to comment! 

I may or may not add Chapter 4 tomorrow it all simply depends on how I'm feeling! 

Bye all of you beautiful souls! <3

Tags:@stuckupstucky

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Happy Holidays

Pairing: Stanley Uris and Mike Hanlon

Summary: Mike spends Hanukkah with Stanley and Stanley spends Christmas with Mike to come out to their families. 

Rated: They makeout

Notes: Happy Holidays my friends! Wrote this real quick because I was feeling some Mike and Stan. 

Also on Archive of our own

Stanley prides himself on staying calm and collected most of the time. He hated losing control or being overly emotional because he felt the world would judge him for it. The only person he ever truly opened up too was Mike. Stanley had no idea when it started but over the years he found himself confessing his deepest ambitions and his darkest secrets to his friend. He never felt self-conscious about anything he said to Mike because they had this connection that was magnetic.

Then one day, he did start feeling self-conscious around Mike. His palms would get sweaty, his throat would dry up, and he would answer in a snappier tone. Mike, being the extremely nice friend he was, would ask if everything was alright at home or if Stanley needed to talk.

Stanley would say, “No, no, I’m fine. Stop worrying about me.”

To which Mike would respond, “Stanley...I always worry about you. You are so important to me.”

This, of course, left Stanley tongue-tied and more confused than ever. When he eventually figured out that he was in love with one of his best friends, he went and told Mike immediately. In his mind, either Mike felt the same or he did not, and if Stanley did not find out how Mike felt in return he would probably explode.

The conversation went something like this:

“Mike, I like you.”

“I like you too Stanley. You know you’re my favorite but don’t tell Ben he will cry.”

“No, Mike. I LIKE you.”

“Yes, Stanley I LIKE you too.”

“Oh my god, Mike will you just…”

Stanley did not bother to finish his sentence, instead, he grabbed Mike’s face and kissed him. The kiss was electrifying as if the first light bulb was being turned on. When he pulled away embarrassed, Mike yanked him back to kiss more. They ended the kiss looking at each other, faces flushed, lips bruised, and hair messy.

That was a couple months ago, now they were dating and trying to find the right time to tell their family. Mike had already dropped serious hints to his grandfather, who seemed perfectly content with whoever Mike wanted in his life. Stanley, however, was still pretending he would marry whatever nice Jewish girl his parents wanted him too. He knew it bothered Mike, but he was too nice to say anything about it.

So for Hanukkah, Stanley invited Mike over every single night. His parents were confused but welcoming to any friend interested in their faith. Little did they know that Mike was a bit more than interested in their son than their faith. This ended up being a great idea because instantly they adored Mike and he became their favorite.  He was the politest and kindest friend of Stanley’s they had ever met. Richie usually talked during every prayer, Eddie had panic attacks about saying something offensive, Bill’s stutter made them uncomfortable (which in turn enraged Stanley), Ben once knocked over Elijah’s plate at Seder, and Beverly made Stanley laugh so hard he choked on challah. When Stanley finally told them Mike and he were dating, his mother asked when she could start planning the wedding. His father immediately wanted to convert Mike.

“I could convert, that’s not a big deal to me.” Mike joked good-naturedly.

“Mike, do not encourage them.” Stanley groaned.

For Christmas, Mike asked Stanley to spend it with his family. Stanley was nervous because he had never celebrated Christmas with any of his friends. If they ever invited him, he would turn them down to spend it eating Chinese or going to the movies with his parents. He did not want to impose on people by being the only non-Christian there. However, when you date someone, you must make a couple sacrifices to your comfort levels.

So Stanley spent Christmas Day with Mike and it was extremely fun but bizarre. He vaguely knew about Christian traditions for the holiday but did not realize every house did something different. Mike’s family would wake up Christmas Day and open presents from their stockings above the fireplace. Mike had made one for Stanley and put a ton of candy and card games inside. He was mortified because he had only gotten one gift for Mike and one for his grandfather. Mike just laughed and hugged him saying it was totally fine, he did not need to spoil him in any way.

Then they helped cook for when Mike’s uncles, aunts, and cousins came for a big Christmas dinner. Stanley was a poor chef, so he cleaned and set the table perfectly. Mike’s grandpa said it was the best set table he had ever seen. When Mike’s family all arrived, they were the loudest most rambunctious people Stanley had ever met.

“Richie should be here, he would be so much better at this. Mike, I am awkward as fuck.” Stanley heard his voice crack as he whispered this in his ear. Mike sneakily took his hand and entwined their fingers.

“But I don’t want him here, I want you. I love you, Stanley.” Mike said in his calm but firm voice.

Stanley smiled then it registered that Mike had just said THE WORDS. “I love you too.” Stanley whispered out quickly and kissed Mike on the cheek.

Two of the cousins saw and screamed, “MIKE HAS A BOYFRIEND” for a solid 10 minutes before one of the aunts stopped laughing long enough to tell them to stop.

After that, Stanley felt himself loosen up and enjoyed a conversation with Mike’s grandfather about being an airforce pilot. Stanley always wanted to learn to fly and he spent the whole dinner conversation talking about what it takes to learn.

After everyone had gone to sleep, Stanley and Mike sat on the ground by the fireplace talking softly to each other about how well this holiday season had gone.

“There’s one more tradition you should probably learn.” Mike looked at Stanley, his eyes dancing with mirth.

Stanley gave him a suspicious glance, “Oh yeah? What’s that.”

“Mistletoe,” Mike pulled it out of nowhere and held it above their heads.

“What are you? A magician now?” Stanley chuckled raising an eyebrow.

“My colleagues call me Mistletoe Mike the Magician.” Mike said leaning in.

His lips pressed lightly against Stanley’s and they sighed into the kiss. He nudged Stanley, his tongue darted out to slowly run along his bottom lip. Stanley felt heat pool in his lower belly at his gentle caress and could not help his lips opening just a fraction. Usually, they were careful about kissing when they could get caught but Stanley felt he did not care in that moment. He loved Mike and Mike loved him. That was all that mattered. Something ignited in Mike also, who opened his mouth and tentatively touched his tongue to Stanley’s.

His kiss stayed soft and gentle, except the heat intensified for Stanley. He placed his hands on Mike’s shoulders and lightly pushed him onto his back. He boldly straddled Mike’s waist and Mike’s hands shot to his hip bones for balance, Mistletoe mysteriously gone. They did not break the kiss as Stanley opened his mouth further, pushing his tongue along Mike’s and moved his hands to rest behind Mike’s neck.

Mike moaned and Stanley made the kisses more fierce and demanding. He pushed into him, claiming his mouth. Mike’s hands were untucking Stanley’s shirt so they could rise underneath to touch his feverish skin. Stanley smiled into their kiss and he withdrew his tongue from Mike’s mouth, nibbling lightly on his lower lip. Then his lips trailed from his mouth down to his neck and Mike threw his head back when Stanley sucked on his collarbone.

“Mike,” Stanley mumbled into his skin.

Mike hummed lightly to show he was mostly listening.

“We should go to your room.”

“Yep, we definitely should.” Mike got up grabbing Stanley’s hand and leading them to his bedroom. “By the way, Happy Holidays, Stanley.”

“Happy Holidays, Mike.”

Tag list: @sammy8675309 @ohheydatsme

[audio-luddite]

Snake oil and washing records.

After my listen to that album that sounded like a fireplace was going in the background I figured I should get a better system to clean my LPs.

I have used the "discwasher" thing for many years and usually find that it is fine for most things. Most of my records are fine, but some need a deeper clean.

SOooo. I go online. I found a simple trough thing that seems at least adequate. I considered the ultrasonic bath types for a while. The cheapest were not cheap, but I may have been able to use it for other things. There is so much bullshit.

I found one thread that looped in Micheal Fremer a recognized golden ear and expert on all things LP. (Just ask him).

It was actually disturbing. There was a video of a machine sold by a Charles Kirmuss and this man's spiel. Just like a carnival barker he was saying all kinds of things. M Fremer was videoing it all and just recording uncritically. It tells me that the estimable Mr. Fremer has no technical chops at all. He did not call out any of the obvious lies.

For one thing Mr. Kirmuss was claiming that LPs are made with sugar. (no not true in any chemical sense) He claims his system will remove all sorts of stuff from a record including soap? His machine is used with water and a mystery chemical mostly comprised of Alcohol as a surfactant. (Which it aint, but it will make bubbles in agitated water smaller). The main thing after 5 minutes in an ultrasonic bath is he cleans the surface with a fine goat hair brush and a fluid containing propylene glycol. There is a lot of elbow grease involved.

I have no hard dispute with that bit. But he claimed that his ultrasonic machine used quote; " Plasma Waves" to clean the LP and not microscopic bubbles. The whole spiel was recorded and the guy could not stop Bullshitting. Plasma is the fourth state of matter after solid liquid and gaseous. Plasma involves very high temperatures so atoms are torn apart. So no that was full on bullshit unless his little Chinese made machine has a cyclotron or tokamak in it.

As a demo there was a lot of immersion in the same (dirty?) fluid 5 or 6 times followed by hand scrubbing each round. If the hand scrubbing is so important it would appear that was what did the actual cleaning and the ultrasonic bath was to rinse off the residue. It would further appear that the propylene glycol was the main thing working here. It binds to many things, it is not soap, it is mostly non-toxic.

It is telling to me that the "system" used a lot of elbow grease and the $900 USD machine (so cheap) was not that obviously helpful. The explanations provided by the developer were bullshit. But it seemed to be very effective in cleaning LPs. Mr Fremer endorses it based on what he hears. So he bought the snake oil?

Of course Mr Fremer also endorses some really expensive audio cables. Interesting story there. James Randi the magician and professional debunker got involved is a proposed double blind test of a particular brand that got involved in some trash talk. Mr Fremer was involved and anxious to try it. It almost happened but then the cable manufacturer pulled out. Randi had offered $1,000,000.00 bucks if a significant difference could be found and the candidate cable detected compared to a simple non-exotic one.

In earlier posts I posited that if specific electronics are sensitive to specific impedance issues things will happen. It is more the electronics than the wire. Usually an oscillation from an inadvertent RLC network. All speakers and wires involve capacitance and inductance. Things can happen. "Super" cables may have components added and certainly have an internal inductance and capacitance even without added "things." A truly fair test would be blind and use different electronics. If you are testing the wire you have to minimize any contribution of the amps idiosyncrasies.

Well the test was cancelled. The wire guy did not want to risk being debunked. Recall the Carver bet. Carver won in a blind comparison between his cheap amp (tweaked) and an exotic one. Blind tests detect snake oil.

Anyway not wanting to spend over 1 kilobuck all in I spent about 1/10 of that on the trough cleaner thing. I just have to line up a dozen or so old records to clean. Don't want to make a mess setting up for one or two.

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip Part 11/? - Temptation Part 12/? - An Awful Reunion Part 13/? - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/? - A Call for Help Part 15/? - Loki’s Guests Part 16/? - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/? - Reassessment Part 18/? - Midnight Invasion Part 19/? - Elevator Fight Part 20/? - Courage Part 21/? - Unwelcome Back Part 22/? - Darkest Hour

Natasha apologizes.  Steve has an existential crisis.  Aliens attack Houston.

They were taken to a police station in Los Angeles rather than the one in Malibu – this one had cells with solid doors instead of barred walls, painted in a horrible shade of pale blue-green, the kind of colour that appeared in hospitals or prisons.  There weren’t even any bars here to rattle.  Steve didn’t say much when the cops tried to question him, because there was nothing much to be said.  He’d had reasons for doing all the stupid things he’d done over the past few days, but nobody would believe him if he talked about them, so he kept his mouth shut.

Maybe Thor and Loki could still make it back, he thought.  Maybe Bob and Hayley and Donny would be able to help them.  Maybe once Loki was back in their own universe, he could bring the rest of them back by magic… although it was distinctly possible that even if he could he wouldn’t bother.  Maybe Natasha could still break herself and Steve out of jail.

Or maybe they were exactly where they deserved to be.

There was a knock on the cell door, and a policeman – a white man in his forties, with bushy eyebrows and mustache but a shaved head – opened it a crack.  “Hey, Evans,” he said.

Steve propped himself up a little.  His cell had a bunk bed in it, and he’d been lying on the lower bunk with his good leg hanging off the end and his bad one folded awkwardly under it.  “Yeah?” he asked.

“Johansson wants to talk to you,” the cop said.

“Oh?” asked Steve, trying not to sound too hopeful. She must have a plan for getting them out of here.

“Yeah.  Come with me.”

The man let Steve lean on him to hobble to one of the little interrogation rooms.  These were even more claustrophobic and depressing than the actual cells, with linoleum floors and cinder block walls and the single eye of a video camera staring from one corner.  Steve sat down in a chair made of hard red plastic, and the cop thoughtfully pulled a second one over so he could put his injured foot up.  A moment later, Natasha came in.

She was still wearing the clothes she’d bought at the Wal-Mart – distressed jeans, red chucks, and a t-shirt with a butterfly on it in sequins.  She came and sat down across from Steve without saying a word, her face completely blank.  The cop stepped back and shut the door, leaving the two of them supervised only by the video camera.

“I’m sorry,” said Natasha.

Steve didn’t answer.  He had been prepared to hear a plan and start carrying it out. He didn’t know what to do with an apology.    

“This is… this is my fault,” she said.  “I tried to take charge of the whole situation because I didn’t want to invoke the Accords, even though I should have known we’d need more help.  Then once we got here, instead of focusing on what we needed to do to get back, I went to see Rosie.  I felt like I had to… I just had to see her, I had to know what that was like, to have a child look at you the way Clint and Laura’s kids look at them.”  She hung her head.  “It sounds so stupid now, even to me, but I had to. You understand, right?”  She risked a glance up at him, and there was something in her face that Steve had never seen before.  She was begging.

And he did understand.  Steve understood, because he’d also needed to see Peggy, one last time.  He’d needed to just pass his fingers through the illusion of that thing he could never have.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I do.”

“And now we’re in here instead of saving the world, because of me,” said Natasha.  “You were right, if I hadn’t done that, this would all have been much easier.  So I’m sorry.

“I’m sorry, too,” said Steve.  He was worry he hadn’t been able to learn from her mistake, sorry he’d gotten involved in this, sorry he hadn’t fought when he could have and had fought when he shouldn’t. “Loki said this world had everything any of us ever wanted, but it’s all lies.  Rosie’s not your daughter, and Hayley’s not Peggy.”

“And there’s no Jane Foster for Thor, and Loki’s fans only love him as part of a story,” Nat agreed.  “He is the god of lies.  It would be.”

It was worse than that, though, Steve thought, because in order to have those lies they would have to give up the truth. They could stay here and assume their alternates’ identities as actors, living a lie and lying for their living. Steve was a rotten liar because the truth was too important to him.  When he lied, he was always worrying about what the consequences of the lie might be. He’d been able to star in half a dozen Captain America movies because he was playing himself, telling a form of the truth.  He couldn’t play anybody else.

Steve did his best lying when he just avoided the truth rather than actively denying it. That was how he’d managed to lie to Stark for a couple of years, keeping the truth about his parents’ deaths from him by simply never letting the subject come up.  He’d told himself he was protecting Stark from something that would hurt him, but the truth was that he’d been afraid Stark would hate Bucky for it – and now he hated Steve and Bucky both.

Steve had taken something into his own hands when he shouldn’t have, and sure enough, he’d suffered the consequences.

“So now what?” he asked Natasha.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “They’re not going to offer us bail this time because we’re a flight risk – I listened to one of the cops talking to somebody from the DA’s office.  They’re worried that if we tried to flee the country over one charge of assault, we must be involved in something way worse.”

That figured.  “So we have to escape,” said Steve.

“I guess,” said Natasha, but she wounded oddly reluctant.  “Honestly, though, that’s just gonna make this worse.  We’ve already ruined these people’s lives and careers.  Johansson’s husband is going to want a divorce and he’ll probably take custody of Rosie.  Both of us will have trouble finding acting work after running off for a crime spree like we did.  Can we really, in good conscience, do any more damage?”

“Can we really in good conscience let the Chi’Tauri take Loki?” asked Steve.  “Tom Hiddleston has a life, too, and I’m sure he wants it back.”

“I don’t know.”  Natasha pushed her hands into her hair.  “Like I said… it’s all so much more complicated than just yes or no.”

What was she suggesting, then?  “We can’t just sit here and rot in jail!” Steve said.

“Technically, we can,” said Nat.  “It depends on how badly we want to get anything done.”

She sounded as if she actually thought that might be for the best.  Steve had never heard that kind of hopelessness from Natasha and it scared him worse than any number of alien invaders possibly could.  He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Nat,” he said, “we can’t just quit.  We have to go home – that world needs us!”

“I know,” she said.  “But I need some time.  I need… I don’t know what I need.  I wish I’d told Thor to just go to Stark and do things through official channels. Then at least it would be them instead of us.”

“There’s nobody better than us,” said Steve, although at the moment he wasn’t sure he believed it.  “There’s nobody else I’d trust to deal with this.”

She nodded.  “That’s always been your problem, Steve.”

The policemen showed them both back to their cells, and Steve spent the night alternating between restless sleep and exhausted wakefulness.  He would lie there feeling his ankle throb and trying to think about things besides the damage they’d caused in this universe.  He hoped somebody was looking after Dodger.  If Hayley and Bob didn’t deserve to be part of this fiasco, Dodger definitely didn’t.

What was wrong with him?  People had been hurt in the hotel and at the convention, and Steve was worrying about a dog.

What was Chris Evans going to think when he returned home to find he was now a criminal with a bad ankle?  That his friend Donny thought he was crazy and that Scarlett was losing her family because her husband thought she’d been having an affair with him?  If he hadn’t already disliked this part he’d been hired to play, he would when he learned what Steve had done with his life.  It was a damned good thing Steve hadn’t given in to the temptation to call Evans’ parents, because that could only possibly have made things far worse.  It still might, of course… what if they came to see him in jail?

Steve didn’t have a watch or a phone, and there was no clock in the little cell, so there was nothing to tell him when morning came.  He eventually gave up on any more sleeping, so he tried to get up and pace, but his abused ankle hurt too much.  His stomach grumbled, and he wondered if anybody were going to bring him something to eat.  Steve had never been in jail before this all happened, but surely they would let him have meals and showers.  He limped over to the door and peeked out the little window, but there was nobody in the hallway outside.

“Hello?”  Steve knocked on the inside of the door.  “Is anybody out there?”  If he asked for food, they’d have to bring him some, right?

There was no response.

He next tried the video camera in the corner, waving at it in the hopes of getting somebody’s attention.  That garnered no reaction, either.  Shouldn’t somebody be watching the feed?  Was the camera even on?

It was impossible to say how much longer he waited.  It felt like hours, but with no reference for the passage of time, it might have been only a few minutes.  Eventually, the door opened and a muscular policewoman with salt-and-pepper hair in a tidy bun looked in on him.

“You’ve got visitors” she said.

This time, Steve didn’t bother to get his hopes up. It was probably Evans’ parents, for no better reason than so Steve could finish ruining everything.  “Do they have breakfast?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Yeah, we’ve got food.  Sorry, we’ve been… distracted.  I’ve also got a crutch to help you walk.”  She opened the door the rest of the way to offer it to him.  “Follow me.”

She led Steve back into the little interrogation room, which was now crowded with people.  They weren’t Evans’ parents, though – instead it was Bob Downey and Hayley Atwell, and Donny Glover with Dodger the dog in his arms.  All three of them looked pale and worried, as did the other two cops who were in the room with them.  Donny put Dodger on the ground, and the dog trotted over to lick Steve’s hand.

Steve reached down as best he could to rub the dog’s head.  “How are you doing, buddy?” he asked.

A moment later, Natasha arrived, also with a police escort.  She also seemed surprised to see who it was, but at first nobody said anything.  Bob held out a bag from Krispy Kreme.

“Officer Gamba said they forgot to feed you,” he said.

“Thanks.”  Steve straightened up and accepted the bag, but didn’t open it.  Something way bigger was going on here than his empty stomach. The serious silence in the room felt as if they were about to hear that somebody died… and Steve immediately had two awful thoughts about who it might have been.  “Where are…” he paused, making sure he was saying the right names. “Where are Chris and Tom?”

“They’re okay,” said Hayley.

“We’re all okay,” Bob agreed, and then seemed to realize something.  “You’ve been in here all night… they probably haven’t been letting you watch TV.”

Steve saw the colour drain from Natasha’s face, and felt something similar probably happening to his own.  “What happened?” he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew.

“The Chi’Tauri are in Houston, aren’t they?” asked Natasha.

Donny held out a newspaper.  The photograph on the front looked like the view from a news channel’s weather camera – it showed a complex of buildings and parking lots that Steve vaguely recognized from one official visit and a number of previous news stories – the Johnson Space Center.  Smoke was rising from several points within and around it, and an inset showed a blurry close-up of the object hanging in the air above.  It was a Chi’Tauri leviathan.

The headline said simply, They’re Here.

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter Nine

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,800

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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

"What… the fuck?" Dean was walking toward the Impala when he saw an unfamiliar silhouette in the backseat. That isnt…is it? Dean had had it up to here with this woman. "What do you think you're doing?!" He asked angrily as he stepped up to the door.

While the boys had spent 10 minutes gathering their essentials and directing a team of two to Montana, George had casually made her way to the garage and slipped into the backseat of the Impala. She made sure to strap herself in tight. If she could have, she probably would have glued herself down. She knew Dean wasn't going to be easily convinced of this, but she was going to Oregon with them, whether he liked it or not.

One could argue that joining the Winchesters on a hunt like this seemed to be in direct conflict with her strict Do Not Get Involved Policy. Though she was well aware of her hypocritical actions, she felt very strongly that she needed to be there… or that they needed her there; she wasn't sure and she couldn't explain it. She was worried about the kid, her new friend-sort of-and there was something about this upcoming rescue that tied her stomach in knots.

In an effort to remain calm, she'd tried to walk through it logically: obviously Jared and Jensen were still on the show, so Sam and Dean had to be safe, but they've "killed off" Cas before and who knew how long the Jack guy's contract was for. She thought he was still on the show in 2020 but she hadn't been paying close enough attention to be sure. She just couldn't risk it when her instincts were telling her she belonged with them; that she was supposed to help in some way.

Admittedly, she realistically couldn't see how she was going to help; she couldn't fight or shoot a gun, nor did she have any special abilities. But, none of that mattered to her right now. A feeling of death was squirming through her veins and the only thing that eased the squirm was imaging herself going to Oregon, consequences be damned. Besides, no way was she staying behind alone in the very obviously haunted bunker of death.

She'd already fought the internal battle, now she had to prepare for the battle with Dean.

"Get out of the car. Now." Dean ordered, yanking the door open.

Pulling herself into a ball and clutching the seatbelt, she said, "I'm going with you."

"No, you're not," Dean was furious. "Get out now!"

"No!" She stood her ground and Dean snapped. He threw himself into the car, reaching to undo her belt and pull her out. She fought him, slapping his hands away and pushing on him with her knees. "No! DEAN! STOP IT! NO! I'M COMING WITH YOU! Wow, you are freakishly strong! HEY WATCH IT!"

"Dean, stop it! Let go!" Sam wrapped his arms around his brother's waist and yanked him out of the car. One of George's hiking boots slid off in Dean's hands after he'd flailed around trying to get a grip on anything solid. "Dude, just chill-CHILL!" Sam wrestled him up against the car and held him still with a firm hand on his chest. "Relax. We don't have time to argue, OK? We've wasted enough time already, we have to get going. She'll stay out of the way, I promise."

Dean shrugged off Sam's hand and shoved the boot into his stomach a little too hard. "If she gets killed, it's on you." He then huffed angrily as he headed to the trunk to toss their bags in.

Sam handed George's shoe back to her with a gentle, though concerned smile. Quickly brushing her tousled hair out of her face, she took it from him and nodded a thank you, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The outcome had been inevitable, but it didn't alleviate the guilt. She just knew she had to go with them.

Dean slid angrily into the front seat and slammed his door. "Let's go!" He ordered.

Once everyone piled in, he floored it in the direction of False Klamath, Oregon. Sam was in the passenger's seat and Castiel was behind him, next to George in the back. She was quiet as Dean's words echoed in her head...if she gets killed...gets killed...she gets killed... It hadn't occurred to her that the death she was sensing might be her own. As they drove away, she thought maybe the haunted murder bunker wasn't looking so bad after all.

They drove in silence for nearly two agonizing hours in the inky black of a moonless sky, before George couldn't take it anymore and finally pierced the silence with a somewhat jarring, "I spy with my bionic eye, something that begins with R." Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, who, without moving a muscle, gave him a "fuck no!" look and remained silent. Sam turned to George, who had sat forward in her seat with a cheery, optimistic look on her pretty freckled face. He hated to disappoint her but he knew Dean needed some more time to seethe.

He gave her an apologetic smile and a small shrug, "Kinda hard to play in the dark, anyway?"

She let out a defeated sigh and threw herself back. She didn't particularly enjoy silence, especially not when she found herself in the unique situation of being in a car with three famous people and nothing to distract her. She had so many questions and her adrenaline was pumping! But she knew she'd pushed Dean pretty far with her tag-along tammy routine, so she begrudgingly fell silent again.

Another two hours and well past midnight, Sam was thoroughly impressed with George's determination. For the last hour she'd been unable to sit still-legs crossing and uncrossing, toes tapping, hips wiggling, audible, slow breaths escaping her lips, face contorting between agony and determined resolve-caught in what Sam had presumed was a self-imposed battle of wills that George was currently engaged in between Dean and her bladder.

The undeniable signs of her predicament began shortly after she'd failed in her attempts to start up I-Spy. As Sam watched rest stop after rest stop pass by them without so much as a foot off the gas level of deceleration from Dean, he knew she was in for a rough ride. Finally, after another 30 minutes of quiet, painful whimpering from the backseat, Sam was about to tell him to pull over when Dean spoke first.

"Making a quick pit stop to fill'er up." He grunted, as they passed a road sign for a gas station three quarters of a mile away. "No dilly dallying. 5 minutes tops." George's whole body sat up at the announcement, literally bouncing on the edge of her seat, and she watched out the window, desperately searching for the gas station.

Sam was grateful for Dean's mercy, especially since he'd turned back to ask Castiel something a few minutes earlier and noticed her eyeing an empty soda bottle at her feet. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to figure out if she could make it work.

When they finally saw the lights of the gas station just off the highway, she lunged forward. Pointing frantically, she narrowly missed Sam's face with her hand, "THERE! THERE IT IS!" She shouted excitedly.

They pulled slowly into the nearly deserted parking lot. Because he just couldn't help himself, Dean purposefully parked at the pump as far from the door as possible. George let out a frustrated groan and flung herself out of the car before it had even fully stopped, racing for the building, and disappearing inside the convenience store.

"Don't dawdle!" Dean shouted after her with a chuckle as he got out the driver's side and began filling up the tank.

"What's your fuckin' damage, Dean?" Sam, who'd followed his brother out of the car, was furious.

Dean looked at him innocently, "What? Her small bladder is my problem now?"

"You let that go on for two and a half hours. Stop punishing her already."

"Listen, Loverboy, don't try to lecture me. Her being here is a huge mistake and you know it. It puts everyone at risk! This isn't personal, it's just common sense, man."

"The only danger she's in at the moment is peeing her pants from your sadistic torture games, which feels pretty damn personal. I don't even know what you're so upset about anyway. If she really did come from that alternate universe, then she could have useful information, and it could help us."

"We could have just as easily gotten that useful information over the phone from the bunker where she would be safe," Dean countered pointedly.

Sam avoided that logic, "It's not like I'm saying let's have her join us in the fight! We can leave her at a hotel where she'll be safe. Sh-"

"You can't really be that naive can you? After all we've been through?" Dean was disappointed in his brother's rashness and his pisspoor attempt at an excuse. "What is it about this girl that's got you acting so reckless?"

Logically, Sam knew Dean was right about George; she couldn't protect herself and her being there put them all in more danger. But he didn't want to admit it and he didn't have a come back, so he changed tactics and instead gave his brother a gentle, pleading look.

"Just consider easing up on her, man. She's here now, regardless, so perhaps we could try to not give her bladder cancer at least?" Sam opened his car door but before slipping in he offered, "Maybe you could even give being nice a try."

Once inside the car, Sam felt dizzy, trapped in his own swarming thoughts. Dean was right, damnit; he was absolutely right and Sam knew better. Leaving her back at the bunker was the safest possible option, for everyone, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to actually force her to stay behind. He was still trying to wrap his head around everything. He didn't know what the hell to think. Was she really from that reality where his life was a TV show? To her, all of this was make believe? When she was from Apocalypse World things seemed easier because they had shared experience, her supernatural free life changed things dramatically. The connection he felt hadn't changed at all, though.

The problem was, he was basing a lot of that connection on the dream he'd had and the woman in it. He felt so drawn to George, like she was an old friend he hadn't seen in a while and the more he thought about it, the more her mannerisms and personality matched the dream woman; not to mention how similar they looked. But he had spent the last ten years of his life convincing himself that the dream had been nothing but Gabriel messing with him, that that dream was no more real than all the times he'd watched Dean die that day. So, then the dream woman couldn't be real either and George obviously was. So, maybe he was seeing things that weren't there? Maybe he was simply attracted to George and getting his wires crossed; conflating how he felt about her with his feelings about the woman from the dream?

That idea made him even more nervous. His feelings for the fake dream woman were unlike anything he'd ever felt before or since. They were intense and… long term. George was from another dimension. How exactly was that supposed to work?

Then again, she had been spending the past ten years of her life watching any number of combinations of horrible and stupid things he'd done. There was probably nothing to make 'work' at all. He had assumed she'd been receptive to his flirting originally, but looking back she was probably just starstruck and polite. Yet another reason he was concerned about being so drawn to her.

He felt very confused and probably should be separating himself from her, so he could figure things out with a clear head. Yet, something about the idea of being apart from her made him… unexplainably uneasy. So, he'd selfishly chosen to allow her to come. Now Dean's words were echoing in his head, making him feel incredibly guilty that he'd put her in so much danger. He knew it was his responsibility to keep her safe until they could return her to her world.

Sam frowned deeply at the thought.

"...about George?" Castiel's deep voice mumbled something, breaking the silence. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin; Cas had been so quiet while he was lost in his thoughts, that Sam had forgotten he was there.

"Sorry, what?" Sam asked, shaking the fog of deep thoughts from his head.

"I know you told me that George comes from an alternate reality and that you think that's the reason for my unease around her but... I'm not convinced. I don't think she's entirely human. I've been trying to read her these past few hours. It's definitely not what I typically pick up from a human."

Sam paused, giving him a strange look before blinking rapidly, "OK, first of all-that just sounds creepy man, so keep it to yourself. Second, she's not a typical human-she's-she's-" He paused, his brain distracting him by offering up a number of choice adjectives he could use to finish that sentence: gorgeous, funny, charming, bold, smart, kind, wonderful, delightful, magnificent-none of which were helpful to him at the moment. He cleared his throat and finished, "from another reality. She probably 'reads' differently because you've never encountered a human like her before." Yeah, that worked.

Castiel sighed in frustration, "You don't understand; she doesn't feel different from other humans, but she's... fuzzier."

"Dude," Sam furrowed his brow in disgust.

"More mysterious," Cas defended. "It's not that what I'm sensing is strange, it's that I can't sense anything. Which is, in and of itself, strange."

Sam sighed, "OK, isn't it possible that because she's from an alternate reality and because you've never sensed someone from that reality, that it could make it more difficult to do?"

"None of the humans from apocalypse world were difficult to read."

"Yea, but angels and monsters existed in that world-an alternate you existed in that world. In George's world none of this is real, it's all a TV show. Maybe there's some sort of… non-magical universe exception?"

Castiel thought about it for a moment, frustrated that he genuinely wasn't sure. He sighed defeatedly and said, "Maybe, but I-"

"Exactly. When you try sensing her does she seem evil or like she's trying to hurt us?" Sam asked patiently.

Cas huffed and said, "No. In fact she seems… undeniably likeable."

A smile broke out on Sam's face before he could stop it because he couldn't disagree. Turning his head quickly, he reached a hand up to run over his beard, stretching his mouth out like he was just adjusting his lips nonchalantly.

Spotting George coming out of the store, he cleared his throat and said, "Exactly, so just… relax for now. She's not going anywhere, right? We'll keep an eye on her. For now, just try to act normal, OK?"

Castiel was about to respond when her door opened and George slid back into the car. He tensed up, trying to figure out how to act 'normal' appropriately. Watching her buckle up and then sit back with a contented sigh, he asked, "Things went well?"

George raised an eyebrow and half smiled strangely, "Uh… Yeah. I've done it before, so," She made a joke, trying to make him laugh but he seemed pretty serious about it.

"Good," He said enthusiastically. After a small pause he complimented, "You held that for a very long time. Your pelvic floor muscles must be impressively strong."

Her jaw dropped and she slapped a hand over her mouth quickly to keep from bursting into-slightly embarrassed-laughter; Castiel was so sincere. Blushing bright red, she glanced at Sam, who was pinching the bridge of his nose in mortification.

After a moment, George finally composed herself enough to nod politely and say with uncertainty, "Thanks for noticing?" She did try to keep up with her daily Kegels.

Sam snorted and the two of them began struggling to hold back childish giggles.

They sat in humorous awkwardness until Dean climbed back in. Sam shifted back to facing forward, Dean fired up Baby, and the group headed toward the highway again. As they pulled away from the gas station, Castiel noticed a strange noise coming from George's direction. When he turned to look at her, her eyes had a mischievous sparkle in them and there was a sneaky smile on her face.

"Why are you crinkling?" He asked loudly, attracting the attention of the two men in the front seat. George looked back toward the gas station conspiratorially before slipping two Hostess Cherry Fruit Pies out from the collar of her shirt, much to the surprise of all three of them. She reached over and set them both gently down next to Dean before sitting back in her seat and resting motionlessly.

It was a silent pie-ce offering, which was Dean's favorite kind.

"Where did those come from?" Sam asked curiously.

"My bra," She answered cooly, shooting him a wink. He hoped it was dark enough that she couldn't see him blush.

"I think what Sam means is, how did you pay for them?" Cas helped.

"Didn't." She shrugged. "Isn't stealing kinda the Winchester Way?" George didn't normally steal, other than a few packs of pokemon cards as a kid, but she figured she was in an alternate reality where a television show was real, so why not live a little? Besides, she'd wanted to do something to make amends with Dean and didn't have any money; what choice did she have?

Dean gave an almost imperceptible nod of respect at both her methods and her choice of olive branch. Maybe Sam's right, she could be useful after all. He waited for what he felt was an appropriately stubborn amount of time before oh-so-casually reaching over to grab one. He ripped it open and took a bite, silently mimicking a look of pure ecstasy while he scarfed down his first one.

"Road," Dean mumbled almost unintelligibly with a mouth full of pie after taking the first bite of his second treat. Everyone else in the car shared confused looks, waiting expectantly for Dean to continue or offer an explanation. "Road. Starts with R," he grumbled, annoyed that he'd had to repeat himself, as though each time he participated he risked catching nerd germs.

"Er-yea! Road is right. That's what I-Spied that starts with 'R'." George had a triumphant smile on her face. "Now it's your turn?" She asked, tentatively.

"P," He refused to say the entire thing. Everyone in the car looked around for a "P" word. George stifled a giggle because her mind instantly thought "penis," but she thought better than to say it. Besides he couldn't see one of those at the moment… I'm pretty sure, she thought, giving a peek toward the front seat to confirm.

They were all stumped in silence having searched for a good five minutes before they began grasping at straws.

"Pine tree?"

Head shake.

"Pine cone?"

Head shake.

"Pants? Doesn't it have to be outside the car?"

"No it doesn't but it's not pants. Lame." None of them could find anything.

"P?!" Sam finally shouted. "What the hell could you possibly see that starts with a 'P'? A porcupine? A planet? Fucking purple mountains majesty?! What!" Sam just knew Dean was cheating somehow which frustrated him to no end. His brother had always been a cheater. Dean took an exaggerated bite of his gifted contraband and shrugged, nonchalantly.

"Pie?" Castiel guessed finally, watching Dean closely.

"Ding, ding, ding." Dean ate the last bite happily and Sam rolled his eyes.

Fuckin' dumbass.

"Your turn Cas! You just have to pick a thing that everyone can see-"

"Like my pie," Dean said smugly toward Sam, who bristled.

George shook her head in amusement, "Right, like pie, and then you say 'I spy with my little eye something that begins with 'P'-because pie begins with 'P'-and then based on that letter, the rest of us have to try to guess what it is that you 'spy'. Whoever guesses it correctly, goes next."

George was in heaven. She was having a blast watching the two brothers, and Cas, being even more competitive than she was and all having fun together. For her, those scenes in the show were too few and far between. Unfortunately, her exhaustion got the better of her and she nodded off only about 45 minutes into their rousing game of I-Spy, where each one was trying to one up the other in difficulty level ("You can't fucking SPY AIR, Dean!" "Oh, but you can spy whatever the hell a berm is?!").

A little while later, Dean watched Sam sit back down in his seat after having reached back to cover George with his jacket with an amused smirk.

"So," He began, trying not to disturb the snoring woman in the backseat, "she woke up in your bed, huh?" Sam bristled and adjusted in his seat with a throat clear, ignoring him. "Something you want to tell me-"

"Mind your business?"

"Ooooh, you're turning pink; this must be good. Spill," Dean demanded.

"There's nothing to spill. Shut up," Sam huffed and ran a tired hand over his face, scratching at his beard compulsively. He could tell this was about to turn into a whole conversation, one he didn't want to have with Dean because he knew he wasn't going to understand. He'd never told Dean about the dream, and wasn't about to. Sometime during the drive he'd successfully convinced himself she simply couldn't be the same woman from the dream-because that was obviously nuts-but there was no denying he liked her. Problem was, dream or no, it was all so complicated and he knew Dean would try to convince him to stop over analyzing the situation and just 'have fun.'

Narrowing his eyes at Sam, he said seriously, "Wait a minute…" Out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed Dean was glancing at him with an intense stare.

He turned to look at the shorter man finally, with an annoyed, yet curious expression, "What?"

"George is the one who likes this new o-Sam-a bin laden look, isn't she?" Dean had an accusatory look on his face as he reached out a finger to poke at Sam's beard.

Sam slapped his hand away and rolled his eyes hard, whispering sternly, "You know you're an idiot, right?"

Shaking his head, Dean chuckled, "Oh man. You've got it bad."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I don't have anything. George is great-"

Dean instantly raised his brows and made a perfect circle with his mouth, "Ope! I knew it."

Sam let out a quiet growl of annoyance and began again slowly, "You know what I mean; She seems like a nice person and she's…" Again his brain provided him with a number of perfectly applicable adjectives for the end of that sentence but all of them would have garnered an unwanted reaction from Dean. "She's friendly," he cringed noticeably the second the words left his mouth, he could practically feel Dean's reaction, but he pushed forward, "She seems like she'd be a great person to get to know as a friend."

Dean didn't even bother attempting to poke at him with innuendo; Sam's tone was definitive. He 'ughed' and waved his stubborn brother off, "Cool, so we're punishing ourselves."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked exasperatedly.

"OK, let's see if I can make this easy enough for you to comprehend: you clearly want to hit that and she's obviously good to go. So-"

"Ugh, why are you always so crass? That is so-"

"Accurate? Exact? Precise? Spot on?"

"None of those things. For starters she's from an alternate reality where this is all fake, remember? One that we're supposed to be trying to send her back to after we find Jack. I doubt she's interested in having a fling with a fictional character before we toss her back through time and space."

"Yea, you could be right. But then again, she might be?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yea? So, what's the morning after like, Dean? Am I supposed to ask her how she likes her eggs before dropping her off at the TARDIS for the trip home? 'Thanks for a wonderful evening, call me next time you Poltergeist into your TV'?"

Dean chuckled a little, nodding defeatedly, "Well, you'll never know if you don't ask. Unless… you're afraid of the answer?"

Sam stayed quiet for a moment before responding with, "She's not interested in something with me." His tone was definitive, very done with this conversation.

"You must think I was born yesterday," Dean huffed. "If you think you're easy to read? Sammy, she's a picture book," Dean said with confidence, making Sam glare at him. "Total Samgirl."

Sam furrowed his brow, muttering, "I think it's rude to assume anything. She… could be uh-a-a Dean girl," He separated the words pointedly. There was a sudden bad taste in his mouth.

"Denial is not just a river in Egypt, Samuel," Dean stated, far more seriously than he had been taking the rest of this conversation. "Why are you pretending you don't like her?"

"I'm not. I'm just being practical," He stated matter-of-factly.

"Fuck practicality. Have some fun," Dean encouraged.

Sam's nostrils flared at the mere thought but kept his composure and said pointedly, "Look man, to her this is all some surreal fan adventure. The Winchesters and 'Misha,' fun car games and stealing pie, free from consequence. But the longer she stays here the more likely she'll face very real, very serious consequences. Hell, you're back and she can barely blink before she's handcuffed to a chair, interrogated, and sexually assaulted by a demon!" Sam growled angrily, pausing to make sure he kept his volume in check and glancing back at the sleeping woman. Taking a deep breath he sighed, "Eventually she's going to realize that this isn't a TV show you can turn off when things get bad; she's going to see how shitty it all is."

"Please don't tell me you really mean how shitty you are?" Dean said knowingly, in a disgusted tone. Sam turned to look out the window, refusing to respond. Dean knew it was pointless to try and talk him out of his self-pity so he didn't push it. After a moment of consideration, Dean muttered defiantly, "Technically she was sexually assaulted by a demon before we tied her to a chair..." Sam turned and glared at him with a sharp sigh, to which Dean shrugged, "I'm just saying, if you're going to list things you could list them in the correct order."

"What's a Samgirl?" Came Castiel's gruff whisper from the back. Both Sam and Dean turned to look at him and then shared an 'oh great' look. Dean spent the next few hours explaining more about the reality that George had come from, at least the best of his abilities, and providing context to explain the silly, fandom created handles. Sam tried to refuse to participate but couldn't help chiming in to tell Dean when he thought he was wrong.

[engagedtobefree]

Phase 3: Redemption

After my embarrassing hump day joke on Wednesday and the failed attempt at getting Scott to help me with the boxes, which I did really need help with, I decided I really needed to turn things around. I’m a pretty determined person, and I’m happy to say that it paid off. 

Thursday - I started thinking in the morning what I could say to Scott, then I remembered how he stocked my favorite tea yesterday. So, in the few weeks that have passed, I have learned how everyone sounds when they walk, so I can usually tell when Scott is walking in, plus he comes in later than literally everyone else. I know, it’s very extra, probably borderline creepy. To be fair, I haven’t always planned to be standing/walking around when Scott comes in; a few times it just happened that way, and I don’t plan to be around every day when he comes in. However, this day, I was very eager to redeem myself. I hear him come in so I pop out of my cubicle and head toward the bathroom. He has dark sunglasses on and a smirk on his face when he sees me. We greet each other and then I say (a little too loudly, since I’m so excited), “Did you stock the Jasmine green tea yesterday?”. We’ve already passed each other and we both keep walking, but we both turn around to face each other. “Yeah, you like that one too?”, he asks. “Yeah, it’s the best one. Thanks!” I go into the bathroom and literally put my arms in the air like I just won something. Which I did. I won redemption.

After my lunch, I was working on something new, and I had to ask Joyce a question. I exit my cubicle and then look down the one hallway and Scott is heading toward someone’s cubicle to talk to them in the sales department. I give a little smile. Joyce isn’t at her desk so I turn around, and when I look down the hallway again and smile, Scott smiles back, then decides to head my way. I feel like a moment really passes between us, like a secret only the two of us know. I hang out in my cubicle doorway and he goes and gets some tea. I have no idea what to say and I guess neither does he. I hang awkwardly at my cubicle and then walk back and forth between my cubicle and Joyce’s. Scott heads back to the sales department, but he left his food container next to the coffee machine, so I go and make some tea. He comes back after a minute to grab his container, and I say “sorry” and move out of the way and he says “It’s aight”.

Later, when I take an order to the warehouse, I look over my shoulder into Scott’s office. He’s looking at me, and his mouth is in a thin line. This is not the first time he’s made that face at me, and I have no idea why he does it. Maybe he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. I should probably work on looking in less though, because Steve and Chris are going to notice eventually if I keep doing it half the time I walk by.

So I leave very, very slowly again today, and as I am pushing open the one door to leave, I hear someone coming. It’s Scott. We greet each other and I ask him how his day was. He says it was alright and asks me how my day was. I say it was slow, but that the whole week has been like that. I open the other door to the outside, and move out of the way so he can pass me as I hold open the door. He thanks me. He’s saying how his week was slow too and that he’s glad it’s almost Friday, and he says something else about it being almost friday/the weekend, but I don’t fully hear him because I’m looking at the lake and sky. I love coming out every day and just looking, because it always looks different but always so beautiful. Every day is a surprise. So I’m trying to admire the scene and also listen to Scott, but it’s hard for me to do both at the same time lol. But we say bye and then leave.

I head right from work to therapy, and the exit I had to get off, I saw a car that looked a lot like Scott’s. I don’t know what exit he is, so I was super paranoid it was him. I’m freaking out like “oh no, what if it’s him and he sees me and he thinks I followed him or something.” It was really bothering me. At therapy I had a really good session. I talked about some of my new, good habits and also talked about Scott. My therapist hopes I get a date, gave me some pointers on initiating conversation, and told me not to worry if it was his car and that it probably wasn’t. After therapy, I stopped home, then went over Amanda’s. Since her son’s dad is 17 years older than her, she was at first super biased about me being into someone so much older than me. But after telling her about how he tried to talk to me and had no idea where he was going with it and how he’s turned red a few times around me, she said his mannerisms are cute. She also made fun of me for the hump day thing but then said it was cute and he probably thinks so too.

Friday - So I heard someone come out of the bathroom some time in the morning, so I went over to the printer. I was actually printing stuff, but I figured I’d stand there while it prints and take my chance. I usually stand at the printer anyway whenever I print, but it just feels like it’s plotted when I do it in hopes Scott walks by lol. Sure enough, I hear “Hey, Dana, what’s up?” behind me. I look to my left and say “Hey, Scott. Good Morning.” I am pretty busy today and decide to chill a bit and not try to force any interaction today. 

Later in the day, I hear someone at the coffee machine. Everyone else is really fast at the coffee machine except Scott, so I listen and hear whoever it is is taking their time. I get up and walk out and sure enough it’s Scott. He’s already facing my cubicle, maybe in hopes I come out or maybe he was planning on coming over. I am ready to walk away down the hall, but change my mind. “Hey, Scott. Have any weekend plans?” I ask, as I stand inside my cubicle doorway. He leans up against the counter and faces me, and answers that he’ll be watching the Eagles game on Saturday, and I respond “Oh it’s not Sunday?”. “Nah, it’s the playoffs so it’s Saturday. I’d like to go to a game, but tickets are expensive, ya know?”. I would like to take the opportunity here to say I have never been more interested in football in my life than in this moment. Sign me up for Football 101. Give me a ball and some gear and set me loose, I am ready. I tell him how I went to a game once with my mom (irrelevant since it was 11 years ago, but whatever) and how we were at the very top and it was January and freezing. He says it’s supposed to be cold for the game, and I say how I was already used to the warm weather this week, and then suddenly remember and say out loud, how I never turned my heat down this morning. (I think I subconsciously say this to inform him that I live on my own, but really it just popped out of my mouth). Then he asks me what my plans are. “Oh just relaxing. I might go over a friend’s Saturday and just watch Netflix all day.” I beam at him and his mouth goes into a little crooked smirk. Ah, my heart. He says something along the lines of “At least it’s the weekend finally” and in a split second every fiber of my being is going “Oh no, we’ve already done the small talk twice. We’re past this now.” I say how I have a second job I work on Sundays, so I only have Saturdays off. He asks me what I do and where I work. I tell him how once I go permanent I’d like to leave there though. He says “You’re still a temp?” and I say yeah, but that I’m supposed to be on-boarding this month or next month. He turns to genuine concern when he says “Are you sure? Some of the guys out there (he means warehouse) were temps for years.” I say “Oh no, Angelo spoke to me in November and definitely said January or February.” He says that’s good and I tell him I’m excited. At some point during our conversation, I laugh at something I say, which honestly probably wasn’t even funny, but I do that all the time. Sometimes I close my eyes when I laugh, which I did, but I could still feel that his eyes were on me. Our conversation dies, but we lock eyes for a solid 5-10 seconds. We don’t say anything, and I feel like again, there’s a secret passing between us. I’m not sure if we break away at the same time, or if one of us does before the other. I go to walk away, but back track, then go to head off again. I had no idea how to react to what just happened. He says, “Aight, I’ll talk to you later” and I say, “Okay, bye.”

I’ve been thinking this whole weekend, how long has Scott had his eye on me for? I know it’s been quite some time, but did it develop more as time passed? Was he getting ready to try and talk to me, like I had observed? The more I think about it, the more I realize how I have acted too. I had to go into his office one time, months ago, and ask him about an order, and I was so nervous that I couldn’t look at him, but I didn’t think anything of it. I have had to talk to Steve plenty of times about orders and have never had trouble talking to him. And I would always think how I liked Scott the best, but there was no reasoning behind this, especially because I never even had a conversation with him, but I had talked to both Steve and Chris. I just really liked something about Scott and never questioned it. Then, any time I saw Scott, which was rare, I would think about dating him, then quickly push the thought aside and then be done with it. Then there was the one week when I went into the lunchroom, and two days he was in there, and on both occasions when I walked in, my mind immediately went “There’s Scott.” I was dating Nick for a few months, from like June to August, then he was unsure from like August to October, then I spent November and part of December getting over it. And then when I really worked through everything, shifted my mindset to myself and what I do really want in life and a relationship and a partner, that’s when I really noticed Scott and acknowledged everything. And I like this. I like the possibilities. I like a lot about him from what I’ve seen, and I’m just hoping that he feels the same. I keep asking myself “What if he gets to know me and changes his mind?”, but I know in the end whoever I’m meant to be with with truly love me and accept me, and that I will be the same way toward them. I still want to make a post about last year and all the lessons I’ve learned and how I’ve grown, but for today I’m just going to leave this here. I’m hoping this week brings new conversations and maybe even a date, but we’ll see. I have a few conversation starters up my sleeve, so I’m hoping I can get Scott to open up a bit more. I wish I could just go to his office and chat with him whenever, but he shares his office so it’s just not possible. He could always come to my desk, but idk if he would. So for right now I still have to strategically run into him so that we can talk. I know I’m going to have to be the one to carry the conversations for awhile, and I’m okay with that. I want to try my best to make him feel comfortable, and I hope that I come off as approachable and easy to talk to, which I think in general I really am. I’m nervous myself, but if I just think about making him feeling at ease, then it’s easier for me to be at ease too. Audrey, my therapist, also reassured me that things being awkward in the beginning is okay, so I’m trying to just embrace that as well. Here’s to a good, happy week with some more progress :)