#thank god us women are so good at multitasking

[bawnjourno]

without further ado... Sparks Austin recap

I won’t elaborate but the two days of travel to get here were very exhausting and trying. I rolled up to the venue, prepared to maybe sit during some songs and nurse a Diet Coke. 

I had never been to Austin before and boy, is it a music oriented city. Not just the venues but the people, the culture. There were multiple fans in Hippo tour shirts, a fully cosplayed Cate Blanchett, and lots of women in beautiful dresses. The Moody Center’s hallway had snapshots of all the cool people that had played there. I love venues with history!

I was worried that the venue set up would be annoying or awkward but I got to my front row seat and I was 4 feet from the stage, just off to the left of Ron’s piano - the perfect view.

The show started... a lot of U.S. venues had audiences who mostly sat and then got up during MTCYDT but the two thirty something hipster dudes behind me stood the whole time so I got to stand and dance :) And a good chunk of the crowd on the left stayed standing too! I was drenched with sweat maybe 4 songs in and it was amazing. All my tiredness and stress melted away as I was loudly singing and dancing.

This crowd was electric, so loud and responsive and to the Latte cuts too! Not just the hits! People were going crazy for TGICIHL in a way that Milwaukee was more subdued about. Russell smiled at me really big early in the show, probably because I knew the words and was loud and enthusiastic. I got a cute SMWS Russell tummy jump video which I will post later.

During  Nothing Is As Good As They Say It Is, I obviously knew the way Russell sashayed and waved his arm back and forth during the chorus from other shows and was mimicking him. He locked eyes with me and we did the hand punctuating thing at each other during that TWICE.

I am a “woo”er I will freely admit that and so I am constantly obnoxiously screaming and clapping and just being super loud. So I obviously was screaming my head off when Ron got up for Shopping Mall Of Love. During the second chorus he looked DIRECTLY at me and went “yeah ✊” I will post video later but I was shakinggggggg.

There were lots of loud applause breaks and late-ish in the show (can’t remember when), Ron looked directly at me again and mouthed “thank you”. Like no thank YOUUUUUUUU KING!

I know Russell bounces around a lot on stage, HOWEVER, the way this stage was set up, it was probably a bit harder to get to our side of the stage, but he came over a lot anyway and I have to think it was partially because of me because he seemed to almost be finding excuses to come dance with us even when he was about to have to start singing again 🤗

Eli dancing and feeling the music was so slay I love that short king jfdgkjrfkjg

I’m not sure how or why Russell would ever EVER feel self conscious about his tummy.... I was lucky to get it captured during SMWS... during MTYCTD though he danced over and it was too fast for me to get filmed but I basically was 4 feet from the man and watched his tummy bounce out from under his t-shirt for a good 5-7 seconds... mesmerized is the most polite way to put how I felt in that moment but oh my fucking god 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 [redacted] [censored] [an oncoming train whistle obscures what i’m about to say] but suffice it to say [meme voice] I think I hauve covid...

And the open collar and sweat obviously..... yeah.

As I divulged to a few of you and was encouraged by @jefffreybeaumont, the plan was to make a sign that says “YOU’RE MUCH HOTTER THAN THE GALLAGHER BROTHERS” because in interviews they’re always being asked how they don’t fight like the Gallaghers or the Davies. The secret spice was typing it out in Barbie font. I somehow managed to not get it wrinkled in my over 1000 mile 2 day voyage and held it up during the shuffle. I don’t think Russell could read it because he was farther away but during the shuffle I held it up. It was hard to tell Ron’s reaction because I was multitasking but I watched later and sent it to @rhythmthlef and she says his face showed “bemused self effacement” fdkjgkldjsfkg. 

Something I’d stupidly personally worried about for ages was that Ron and Russell didn’t care about the U.S. as much - the U.K. has always embraced them and I’d worried that they didn’t think of these shows as special or meaningful because radio stations here don’t give them the time of day and they don’t always sell out. Since Chicago, I don’t worry about that anymore. Their faces shine with excitement, pride, and pure joy at EVERY SHOW. They’ve gotten more fans since TSB and opportunities that they wouldn’t have gotten ten years ago, even in the U.S. I mean, NPR Tiny Desk! Wow. Russell was emphasizing that the feelings of the shows “don’t go away when we go to the next city” and I could tell that he really meant it. 

Eli came out for the encore in the bucket hat and a red Southern style bandana - very cute. The man who took the photo handed Russell his cowboy hat beforehand and Russell says, “Oh yeah, my hat.” He then proceeds to put it on, smirk confidently at the audience, and say, “What’s up, yall? You from these parts?”WHAT IS WRONG W HIMMMMMMMM GFHJDKJGFKLDSJFKDS CALIFORNIA DOOFUS!!! And I fought for my life squeezing into the pic but I’m in there! Right behind the keyboard!

The pic is taken and I know my chance is now. I start screaming for Ron (who was a bit closer to me) but he doesn’t hear me. I then start screaming at the top of my lungs “RUSSELL!!! I HAVE A LETTER!! RUSSELL!!” and after about 7 times he hears and sees me and meanders over and takes the letter and 2 rainbow Sparks logo acrylic pins (the ones I sold to some of yall a couple months ago)! I’m not sure if they’ll wear the pins but I had to try. I do hope they read the letter - they really do mean everything to me. I was unsure that I’d get their attention at all, so I didn’t get the moment I handed it on film, but I do have a video of Russell holding and then glancing down at the letter. They were leaving the stage and Russell stopped to hold hands with multiple people on his way offstage.

I stood there for a minute, very emotional, then made my way out. As I left, a security guard off to the side went “Hey, you sang all night man, that was great.” and I just replied “They’re my favorite band, you’ve gotta be passionate, y’know, thanks!” Even non fans know I’m a real one kgcjkgjfdkjgfd.

My Lyft driver was super sweet and chatty and I rode back to my hotel feeling like I was floating on a cloud.

Random sidenotes: A) They cut “Toughest Girl In Town” which I didn’t realize til later - I’m sure they’re getting tired near the end of the tour B) Eli is truly such a talented guitarist? He slayed the Bon Voyage solo. He was right in front of me so I really got to see him shine (in my brief moments not zeroed in on Ron and Russell) but obviously the whole band is amazing C) I sent Alissa snaps of me during Beaver O’Lindy and they said “You’re almost singing louder than Russell is” kdgfjkdjkg D) This was the one time I didn’t cry during It Doesn’t Have To Be That Way because I was sweating so much that [Lucille Bluth voice] I couldn’t spare the moisture E) I will share a few videos but I swear my singing is horrendous and embarrassing so just the key moments jfdgjfi F) I used almost 10GB of memory on photos and videos...

The plan is to get a Sparks tattoo within the year. I’ve gotta do it. They are so special to me. I’ve been into bands before and I don’t regret any of it but this feels different and special. This truly feels like where I belong as a fan and a person and as someone who has always felt strange and awkward and out of place. But there’s one place and one song and that’s Sparks.

SparksTour forever ✨

[nctrsn20]

THE ELINOVAS' ANGELS

ELINOVAS' ANGELS [inspired by VICTORIA SECRET ANGELS] are a group of girls who are known for empowering women and they are the girls of NCT.

Originally, it was a brand group for supermodels but the daughter of the founders' company bought the name for various brandings.

Introducing 2/3 of ELINOVAS' ANGELS who are WAYV's SOULMATES. Everyone in ELINOVAS' ANGELS have strong bonds with each other but these girls are known for having each others' back.

BIRTH NAME ― Nicole Elly Nelson

NICKNAME ― Retired Assassin, Ex-Hitman

STAGE NAME ― -

OCCUPATION ― Bodyguard

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― FRANCE ⤍ KOREA

used to be a bodyguard for WAYV but now she is officially a bodyguard for Elinovas Sisters

a focused, independent and guarded individual (which the girls would always ask her to relax but she won't listen to them)

there's a reason why she is mostly guarded, and that's because it's because of her tragic childhood - she had an older sister but she was shoot by the head from protecting her younger sister, which is herself

since then she is always on a look-out due to her work too

started to use her trauma as work and that's how she became a bodyguard

which leads to meeting Kun and the others (they were slightly stubborn and mean to her at first but thanks to Kun, they kind of slowly began to accept her)

Kun is everything to her, it was as if she depended Kun on her closed-off emotions, that he had to sit down with WAYV at first to find solutions for her and then sat down with her (the boys understood the assignment)

used to be detached but as she begins her journey with WAYV, she kind of learn from the boys' on how to involve herself with others (in a good way), helping the others with the knowledge she has

she even took a bullet for Kun and that's how she realized she is in love with him and it was so obvious (she was even more shook that Kun confessed to her and yeah, let's just say they were in their own world)

meeting the Elinovas Sisters has made her more empathetic and with just a week of spending time with each other, they treated her as a sister

and thanks to the Elinovas Sisters as they introduced her to the other Elinovas Angels girls, she realized that DNA doesn't make a family

BIRTH NAME ― Alyona Alice Elinova

NICKNAME ― Party Queen, Ms Badass

STAGE NAME ― Alice Elinova

OCCUPATION ― (Main) Face of ELINOVAS Co, Model

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ― Yelena Olivia Elinova (Oldest), Aurelia Rose Elinova (Youngest), Leah Antonella Ivanova (Cousin)

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― FRANCE ⤍ KOREA

5/7 original super-model of ELINOVAS ANGELS

face of ELINOVAS Co.

just like the youngest, she is loved by many but also hated too

out of the 3 sisters plus her cousin, she is WELL-known to break the rules or regulations (for example, when she goes parties or events in the club as a representative of the company, she isn't suppose to drink 2 shots but she didn't care at all)

most clubs would invite her as a guest

known for handling her alcohol well

the day where she was drugged, is the day when she met Ten (yes, she was drugged by one of Ten's enemies and luckily he was there)

it was really a mess that day but she remembered being in one of the rooms in Ten's club and no one is in the room, so she decided to make a exit since she was all fine but as soon as she took a turn, she was met by Ten and she swore she could see Ten's eyes widened twice (the atmosphere was weird as well as what she felt, and so she decided to walk passed him - not knowing that he was the one who saved her)

fast forward to a few months with him trying to get close to her and soon turns into a weird tension, and one fine night became a night where both her and Ten ended up in one of Taeyong's hotel (yes, they slept together as in SmEXy)

and their relationship kind of grew from there - he was clingy, sweet, kind of funny and adventurous (she didn't know what they were at that point, friends don't make out with each other unless they were fwb but she knew they were more than that since they told each other regarding their personal lives)

when she thought that she had something special with him, it all came crashing down when she saw him with a girl from a rival group of Elinovas Angels being all close and personal (what's worse she had to see them make-out and shit, poor Alyona)

damn homegirl went pissed that she had to bail out of the event and she NEVER exits out of events early (let's just say she personally drove herself to the Elinovas Angels mansion and cried her hearts out, also to see Lucas and that's when she finds out about another side of Ten according to Lucas)

definitely a red-flag to her from what Lucas said (homeboy said Ten has different girls every week but according to Lucas and the other WAYV members, he actually talked about Alyona to them, saying positive stuff about her which Ten had never done before which was talking about the girls he hangout with)

every time she tries to avoid Ten, she keeps on seeing him as if they were fated to be together and one day they had a one to one talk which made Ten chase after her, realizing that he loves her and weirdly, she can't seem to stay away from him too

BIRTH NAME ― Chua Nina Liling

NICKNAME ― Lingling

STAGE NAME ― Chua Liling

OCCUPATION ― (Main) Model & Ambassador of CHUA CO.

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ―

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― FRANCE ⤍ KOREA

6/7 original supermodel of ELINOVAS ANGELS

known for having an endearing face but a sexy body

out of the girls, she is the most calm person (no wonder she gets along so well with Winwin)

is quiet too but have to force herself to be sociable when in parties or events

knows about NCT since her parents are in business terms with both Taeyong and Yelena

but isn't aware that her high-school friend is a member of NCT (he didn't think that that was the same Dong Sicheng she knew during high school)

until she literally saw him from a corner while talking to an important guest (she is lucky that she can multitask - lowkey eyeing onto someone while conversing)

somehow her eyes made the other party which is Winwin noticed and hence they made eye contact

girl is shook

it was her that approach him, she didn't waste no time to go to the other side of the room (they exchanged words and somehow she got his number)

wasn't aware that in his eyes that she is talkative but in her eyes, he changed (he became more manly)

isn't surprised that he lives in Korea but she is more surprised that he is a member of NCT after seeing Taeyong basically hugging Winwin like a koala

they became more closer with Winwin inviting her to hang-out with the other NCT members (at the same time he introduced her to Wayv members)

at first, she isn't fond of the members but she is very fond of some of the members' girlfriends (she works for Elinovas' Co. as a model although she has her own family business)

sticks with Winwin in events where the whole NCT is there

Winwin doesn't know this but she likes him lowkey

BIRTH NAME ― Emilia Crystal Carter

NICKNAME ― Emi, Mimi

STAGE NAME ― Crystal Carter

OCCUPATION ― Model

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ― Jackson Wang (Got7)

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― FRANCE ⤍ KOREA

the last original supermodel of ELINOVAS ANGELS

known for being Jackson Wang's best friend, partner in crime and crazy cousin

also known for having a rbf (resting bitch face) during runways

people thought that she is his sister but no, they are just cousins who would always invited to family events

at first she wasn't close with Jackson but because both has seen each other faces, he thought might as well they became friends and someone close since they are like a family

two family gatherings already made them became close friends

she would always be invited in the Wang Company parties

now let's fast forward on how she rescues Lucas one time in a club

there is a reason why she kind of save him - that's because she knows who is Lucas thanks to Jackson

Lucas was actually invited to one of the events and she noticed him thanks to Jackson because he kept on rambling about this certain individual saying that she should be friends with him and their energy match bla bla bla (she honestly didn't listen to him fully but what she remembers that this person is tall, he is even taller than her)

so yeah she saved him (although she didn't know any context but she heard the girl saying Lucas is a liar and saying he didn't have a girlfriend) by saying she is Lucas girlfriend

only the Elinovas Angels knows this but she is a good actor - she knows how to act, for example if she is extremely angry or extremely sad - bro she didn't even cry, she just covers it with a smile (only god knows how emotional she is)

she tends to hide her true feelings

and that incident made both of them close and she had to tell Lucas that she is Jackson's crazy cousin that everyone talks/knows about

when she says she knows Lucas, she knows about Lucas's work and what he does during tasks that was given by his own bosses

she was surprised that Lucas is actually a gentleman although he flirts a lot, yet he is respectful to her

he didn't even touch her or anything even when he accidentally made skin contact, he would jump like afar in surprise (he is a very funny guy)

maybe that's why she likes him more now

BIRTH NAME ― Daniella Violette Allen

NICKNAME ― Dany, Ella, Vio

STAGE NAME ― Violet

OCCUPATION ― Singer-Performer

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ― Chani (SF9)

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― LAS VEGAS ⤍ KOREA

a talented underground singer

a shy individual but once you get to know her, she is a confident type of girl that you actually forget how she is when you first meet her

her fans wanted her to be more famous but tbh she prefers to perform underground instead of performing in an enclosed area

she likes to perform outdoors no matter how freezing it could be

and she has a reason why she stayed underground and that is because of her parents and her brother (she is adopted and her parents along with her brothers are involved in the mafia business)

though she wanted to stay out of it, her parents would always ask her to perform for their friends' events hence she just went along with their request (and she gets paid thrice as the ones she perform outside, who wouldn't say 'yes')

her brother, Chani, is also a member of SF9 who is also friends with NCT (she didn't know much but she heard they had work together)

is very close with her brother although she is adopted (he kind of tells her everything, what had happened both bad and good and she would tell him any interesting events that had happened between her and her fans)

by now she knows what is going on in the mafia world although she didn't want to get involve (she thought it's better to know what is going on around her to avoid incidents)

somehow she always ends up being Chani's plus one in social events (compared to both of them, she is more sociable than Chani)

and somehow and weirdly she is introduced to Kun thanks to Chani and next few events she attended with Chani, she became close with Kun

and the next few days she has a performance at an underground alley and surprisingly from far she saw someone kind of looking suspicious (she almost wanted to call security but she saw a glimpse of the individual face)

she saw everything from him being all lowkey and seeing a few men somehow looking for someone that this was the moment to call her security to secure her fans who were chilling while enjoying her performing

she can't help but to glance at his area not knowing she actually made eye contact with him (she is a professional that she just smiled it off although on the inside she is wondering who on earth would a NCT member be outside in this timing?)

after the performance ended, she didn't think twice to go after him and she saw a glimpse of white stuff on his packet already knowing what he was doing (she surprised herself by telling him what she knows about the men she saw, telling him that those guys are notorious for cheating money)

and that's how they became strangers to friends then to close friends (which Xiaojun would actually accompany her whenever she has performance underground or sketchy places)

until one day Xiaojun accidentally confessed to her as they sat down drinking after a performance (she confessed coolly too and she kissed him on the lips first, that was the day they started dating and they started to make the relationship official)

a very lowkey relationship - that's because she didn't want to cause trouble for Xiaojun and he didn't want cause trouble to her too since he is in a very well-known mafia group

BIRTH NAME ― Allison Jamie Taylor

NICKNAME ― Ally, Jamy

STAGE NAME ― -

OCCUPATION ― Artist

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ― Adriana Marie Taylor (Oldest)

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― KOREA

unlike her older sister who is described as boring and work-oriented, she is more to being a curious and carefree individual

she is friendly too but unfortunately, her face didn't allow her to be friendly (she has a rbf)

people are scared of her so she decided to just do her own things which is painting

unlike her sister who in more involve in business terms, she is more casual in terms of her art business

has her own art studio

she often does art exhibition

other artists calls her the 'exhibit angel' because first she does regular exhibition (like thrice a month) and lastly, she would divide the amount she receive by selling her works then to donate it to the ones in need

sometimes, people would come to her art studio for her to paint a piece of them but they end up buying the ones that were in the studio

which of course she allows but she had kept one particular portrait secure and framed on the wall

many people question her what is the drawing about and she could only laugh and smile before gazing into the painting, telling them it was someone who she never fails to remember

the only person who she told about that particular painting is of course her older sister (that's because the older one visited the younger in the middle of the night since she missed the family dinner to only find her being covered by multiple colors on her hands, seeing she was painting a particular painting)

she told her older sister that it was someone from high school, she actually considered him as her first love although she never confessed to him and sadly he left out of nowhere - although he was really shy at that time, in the long run when they were close, he was funny, nice and kind.

she remembered feeling gloomy for a whole month whenever she is in school, seeing the empty chair beside her but she get used to it throughout the following years in high school

back to present, one day she decided to accompany her parents' who are old and they wanted to go to this specific workshop and she just went along to accompany them

she didn't even bother to listen to what her parents talking or who they are talking to as soon

as they enter the workshop, she is fascinated with different kind of tools on the wall

the place was very bright and colorful although she figured out all of them were different car parts (that's when she realized that she is in a car workshop, but somehow, this was somehow a different type of workshop)

until she met the eye-contact of the owner of the workshop, she didn't even hesitate to frown deeply while pointing fingers calling his name (she instantly recognize him, he never change at all, he is the only boy she knew who looks like Prince Eric hence that nickname who she usually call him is strictly his)

the boy who she missed is standing just a few steps away from her, pointing his fingers to her too

there was too much to talk about that she gave him her number when he ask her questions, Hendery gave her his number too

maybe because it was all a sudden when they wanted to start talking, her parents had already called her out as they wanted to leave after making a few purchases

she couldn't help but gave him a look where she didn't want to leave but he ensured her that he will call her right after he ended his shift

she gets to know that Hendery is working for NCT, a member of Wayv and he owns the car workshop, he had to leave high school as he had to move to China because of NCT related problems

she couldn't help but miss him, causing her to slowly fall for him

BIRTH NAME ― Leah Antonella Ivanova

NICKNAME ― Lia, Nella

STAGE NAME ― -

OCCUPATION ― (Main) Social Work Degree Student, Wardrobe Stylist (Theatre)

IMPORTANT RELATIVE(S)/SIBLING(S) ― Yelena Olivia Elinova, Alyona Alice Elinova, Aurelia Rose Elinova

CURRENT LOCATION & DESTINATION ― FRANCE ⤍ KOREA

known for being the tsundere in the Elinovas family and Ivanova family

very very very close with the Elinovas Sisters (she is actually consider a sister rather than a cousin to Yelena, Alyona and Aurelia)

she is the only one who isn't well-known compared to her cousins

prefers to be lowkey

although her family is rich, she decided to work her own which is a wardrobe stylist located near her university (currently)

but she works for Yelena too (surprisingly she is good at styling the models so Yelena only invited her only for overseas runways)

is an introvert at first but as you get to know her, she is more than that

a competitive smart-ass in terms of studies

really smart

isn't friendly in class but is helpful when someone genuinely needs her help in terms of studies

known to score high marks consecutively in her class

until a boy named Yangyang came into her class and he destroyed her rankings (she hates his name as soon as he introduced himself as a new classmate and she even hates him more when he beats her by one mark)

and this would happen for the following months till somehow they openly hate each other, and the class would just let them fought since they were the smartest (they are in their own world where their classmates didn't even have any words to insult them)

one particular day which she somehow was pissed at Yangyang for no reason and she had said words which she didn't meant but Yangyang didn't care at all (and she felt bad the end of the day so she decided to follow him and she didn't even know how she ended up driving while chasing after Yangyang who was running)

she decided to just get him onto her own car and he didn't even waste no time to argue (as she was driving, let's just say she is lucky that she is a very good driver and she knows how to avoid more damage to both of them since gunshots were being fired)

kind of figured out he is working for NCT not knowing he was actually a member

fast forward to college where they attended the same college but different courses, kind of awkward at first but they never fail to say 'hi' when they see each other' in the hallways

somehow thanks to that incident, they got each other's phone number thanks to Kun that day when she was being asked by Taeyong and Kun

they were considered as friends by now (but to Yangyang, she was more than a friend to him)

until one day a few people came in to her house on bright morning of Monday where she is just about to go to school

she couldn't remember what happened but she was knocked out good on the head, and she was awakened

the first thing she sees is Yangyang basically sleeping at the side of an unknown bed

[ MASTERLIST ]

[ N-WAYV MOODBOARDS ]

[ N-127 MOODBOARDS ] - [ 127'S SOULMATES ]

[ N-DREAM MOODBOARDS ] - [ N-DREAM’S SOULMATES ]

[ineloqueent]

the whole of the moon

Platonic!Queen x Reader

cannot remember where this gif is from. if it’s yours, drop me a line!

synopsis: a late-night shopping trip goes awry...

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy birthday, dearest vi ( @doing-albri​ )!! i hope you have a wonderful day, because you deserve it. i’m sorry this is so short; i’ve been terribly busy, for whole months, it seems. but i’ve done my best, and i hope you’ll enjoy it. inspired by this song <3

⭒

1975

“Just like old times,” said Roger happily, cranking up the music and beginning to tap his fingers on the steering wheel.

Brian immediately grimaced, and reached over to turn the volume down again.

“Hey!” Roger smacked Brian’s hand away from the knob, and you laughed, from your place between John and Freddie in the backseat.

Brian turned his head to wink at you.

“Some of us need our hearing to be able to play, Rog,” he said.

John wrinkled his nose, flexing his fingers as he shifted a ring from his pointer to his pinky, and back again. “You’ve still got yours left?”

Brian looked confused. “Yeah..?”

“Oh,” said John, with an air of sarcasm, “that’s right. You’re the one who talked our ears off yesterday.”

Now Brian looked miffed. “Just because you don’t understand zodiacal light, doesn’t mean it’s uninteresting.”

Deacy rolled his eyes.

“No offense, darling,” Freddie sighed, “but if you say one more word about science before we’ve finished this champagne-run, I’m going to climb over the console and strangle you.”

Roger guffawed, and John grinned so broadly one would’ve thought him a small child on  Christmas morning.

“Fine,” said Brian, miffed. “I won’t talk at all.”

“Good riddance,” Roger muttered, and Brian crossed his arms.

“Why did I agree to going with you all, again?”

You leaned forward to tug on one of his curls, and Brian whirled, startled, pushing his fingers into his hair. He relaxed when he saw it was only you. “To be the voice of reason, of course,” you told him.

He smiled. “You’re not wrong.”

Roger grumbled, “Don’t boost his ego, sweetheart.”

“Too late,” said Freddie. “He’s going to start talking about time dilation any moment now.”

“Time dilation?” Brian asked. “Hadn’t even thought of that. But if you really want to know—”

A collective groan rose from the other three, and you laughed again.

You loved this.

You loved them.

You loved travelling the world with your four best friends, watching them live their dreams, and getting to be a part of that reality, the reality no one could ever have thought would take on such a life of its own.

Tour life could be hectic at times, but you wouldn’t have given it up for the world.

Not when you arrived in a ramshackle town where the nicest place in sight was the funeral home, not when your legs felt tired enough to give out from beneath you, as you stood watching the show from the wings, for the umpteenth night in a row.

Because when John decided to put on a record, he always asked for your opinion, and picking Roger’s outfit was as much your job as it was his, and when Brian and Freddie played to the crowd as though they were old friends, it was like you held the world in the palm of your hand.

Even if the four of them argued constantly.

As the van suddenly swerved, and the three of you in the back clung to each other in terror, Brian said crossly, “Jesus, Roger, watch the road!”

“I am!” protested the drummer, and Brian grumbled a response in the negative.

“You absolutely are not,” said Freddie, hanging onto the headrest of Brian’s seat. “And I refuse to die in the middle of nowhere, thank you very much, so you can keep your eyes forward if you want to still be in the band by tomorrow night.”

Roger rolled his eyes, and made a blah blah blah gesture with his hand. But he was clearly not as adept at multitasking as he thought, because a moment later, Deacy cried,

“Watch out for that deer!”

“Yes, Roger, slow down,” said Brian warningly. “I swear I will murder you in cold blood if you kill that deer.”

“What deer?” Roger squinted. “I don’t see a— DEER!”

He swerved so violently this time that your seatbelt dug into your skin, and you pushed against the seatbacks to keep from falling forward.

The van hurtled off the side of the road, but Roger had somehow managed to slow the vehicle significantly before the swerve, and so the off-road trip would have been only a momentary pause in your journey into town.

Had it not been for the barbed wire lying in the grass.

The tyres of the van had surely seen better days, after so many miles on the road, and you felt the moment all four of them punctured.

Roger gripped the steering wheel for dear life, and Brian, struggling to combat inertia, had both hands on the dashboard, one knee against the console and other against the door, whilst Freddie still clung to the headrest, and John pushed at the back of Roger’s seat. You, stranded in the middle, failed to maintain any sort of position.

The van ploughed forward like a tidal wave, into the field by the road, then sank abruptly to a stop with a whumph, when the last of its momentum had been wasted.

There was a silence as you looked around the car, at Roger’s tousled hair and Brian’s wide eyes, Freddie’s gritted teeth and John’s crooked collar.

Then the shouting started.

“Roger you moron!”

“How the hell did you not see that coming?!”

“I’ve told you, I need to get my eyes checked!”

“Well, kindly do it before you kill us all!”

“I’ve seen 90-year-old women drive better than you do!”

“Fuck off, Brian! If you hadn’t—”

“We’re never going to get that champagne!”

You all turned to Freddie.

“Really,” you said, “you’re thinking about Moët et Chandon right now?”

Freddie shrugged. “Seems we’d all be in better humour if we’d had the option to have a glass before we left.”

“Or maybe,” Brian drawled, “we’d all be dead, because Roger can barely drive when he’s sober.”

Roger was fuming, bright red in the face with a will to speak but no adequate words to suit, and he looked as though if he stayed silent for a moment longer, he would try to throw a punch at Brian.

Brian, to his credit, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, and stared Roger down.

Laughter broke the silence, and you all turned to find John completely beside himself with amusement.

He did not stop laughing until he was wiping tears from his eyes, and by then, you had begun smiling too.

“What,” barked Roger.

Deacy shook his head, his soft hair flying about his face. “Don’t any of you see how funny this is?”

“Funny..?” asked Brian cautiously.

“Well,” said Deacy, “are any of you hurt?”

You looked around, tallied the appearances of everyone in your head.

“No,” you replied.

“Okay, then listen: we ran out of champagne, so, despite the fact that it was half-past eleven at night, we all piled into a sort of run-down van, without security, without crew, and set off to buy a bottle of champagne. We’d been driving for all of five minutes before we started arguing the first time, and half an hour into the trip, Roger drives us off the side of a road after Brian finishes rambling about science—”

“Astrophysics, actually—”

“—and all four tyres puncture,” John went on. “And now, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

There was a pause.

But despite everything, John was right. This really was funny.

You started to laugh as well, and Deacy grinned at you until both Freddie and Brian were smiling, and the corner of Roger’s mouth tugged upward as his colour faded.

Brian sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. “So, now what?”

“Spare tyres?” you suggested.

“About that…” Roger mumbled.

“Oh, dear god,” Freddie said, dropping his head to his hands.

John laughed again, and Brian made a noncommittal noise.

“So we walk,” you said.

Freddie shook his head. “I am not walking on the side of a road in the middle of the night.”

Roger wrinkled his nose too. “Bloody insects,” he muttered, “get in your hair.”

“And Brian’s stretched his hamstring again,” said Deacy. You glanced over at Brian, who winced apologetically. He wasn’t one to complain, though; you’d all but forgotten his incapacity.

“Which just leaves just you and me,” Deacy nodded to you.

“I dunno, Deacs,” you made a face. “Freddie’s onto something, about not walking on the side of a deserted road in the pitch black. And,” you continued, before John could object, “you’re not going on your own. We’ll simply have to wait until morning.”

Everyone seemed lost in thought.

“Right,” Brian said, “that’s it.” He pulled on the handle of the passenger door, and it clicked open. “We’re sleeping under the stars.”

“Not this again!” Roger cried, but Brian reprimanded him.

“I think you’ve said enough for the time being, Rog.”

The heavy door slammed behind Brian, and you could hear the boot being opened.

“He’s right, you know,” John remarked, in a rare display of solidarity with the guitarist.

Roger only sniffed.

A few seconds later, Brian knocked on Freddie’s window.

“Come on, then!” he said, smilingly. “I’m only sorry none of us brought our instruments.”

Deacy widened his eyes at you. “Thank god for that.”

You laughed and pushed him lightly, toward his door, and when he’d hopped out, you followed.

You rounded the car with John, to find Brian already staring up at the sky, as Freddie and Roger joined you as well.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Brian murmured.

You turned your face to the sky, and saw what he meant.

There was no light pollution here, no skyscrapers or tall houses to obstruct the view, and the world above stretched on endlessly, a plethora of life above your heads. It was so very bright, and yet so very far away. It was indeed beautiful.

You breathed the night air, and nodded.

“I found a picnic blanket,” Brian added, holding it up, “and apparently, Crystal keeps a chocolate stash, so we’ve got that too.” He then sank into the grass, stretching out his long legs, entirely without regard for the light blue suit he wore, and Freddie looked on in distaste.

“That’s no way to treat perfectly good fashion, darling. Now, if it’d been that horrible knitted sweater of yours, and those old, tatty velvet trousers, I’d have said otherwise, but that there is a perfectly good—”

“Sit down, Freddie,” you said, and Freddie closed his mouth and sat. You made your way over to Brian, who had now reclined completely, his fingers winding absently in the pale grass.

Soon, you were all sprawled in the field, which, funnily enough, was peppered with moonflowers, and you sighed, utterly at ease with the peacefulness of the scene around you: your family, the sky, the stars, and the whole of the moon. It shone radiantly this night, full and subtly tinged with orange, warmth softening the usual coldness of its light.

“Spare some of that chocolate?” John whispered from beside you.

You nudged Brian, who passed over the wrapped sweets, which you then handed to John.

Roger was placated by the sharing of the chocolate, and Freddie seemed perfectly content to laze about in a manner similar to that of one of his many cats. The latter fell asleep within minutes, having stolen Roger’s jacket.

It wasn’t long before only you and Brian remained awake, gazing up at the stardust which spilled from the heavens, and the world was quiet.

Brian shifted slightly, and you turned your head to find him looking at you.

A soft smile touched his lips, and his cheeks were rosy in the blue-dark.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

You could not help but smile back, because your heart was as full as it had ever been.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” you whispered.

[thesilvervixens]

i will refrain from requesting foot fetish seteth and instead ask for modern ashen wolves hcs 👀

modern ashen wolves headcanons

a/n: mod lily and i collabed on this one again! i hope you enjoy- the ashen wolves are fun to write for because they’re each their own kind of crackhead

i also realize these are longer and more in depth than the blue lions and black eagles ones, a clear demonstration of my bias.... 

⇾ sfw / tw: none

⇾ reqs: open !!

yuri 

⇾ he frequents sephora and urban decay whenever he has the chance. yuri has completely mastered the ancient art of eyeliner to the point where it’s almost infuriating. only a psychopath can apply eyeliner perfectly in under 30 seconds… 

⇾ surprisingly yuri doesn’t post on social media as much as one would think; he mostly posts on his ig story, or snapchat. his instagram feed mostly contains pictures of himself, the ashen wolves, or places he frequents (coffee shops, bakeries, museums). 

yuri is very photogenic. all of his pictures have the perfect angles and lighting- truly a god among men.

⇾ in terms of texting, yuri either responds immediately after you message him or hours later, there’s no in between. he doesn’t care to use precise grammar or punctuation, and sometimes he’ll “txt like this bc it’s quicker 4 him”. an avid user of slang. curses frequently. 

⇾  yuri is that one person that has a nasty habit of bringing in strays, but vehemently denies getting attached when you ask why he’s putting mittens on a kitten (yes he’s allergic but it was cold ): ) 

⇾ he and hapi are part of the “i like pets but they don’t like me” squad. they’re the only members. yuri’s allergic to fur and hapi just has terrible luck with animals. 

constance

⇾  constance to this day brags about being valedictorian in highschool and getting a full ride in college

⇾ despite being very smart constance lacks a lot of street smarts . a random stranger could be like, “hey you, wanna buy some coke?”, and she’d respond with “oh, no thank you! i much prefer pepsi!”

⇾  as a guilty pleasure constance loves doing magic tricks and is a magician with a fancy cool pseudonym 

⇾  constance is the type of person that wants to have the studio apartment kind of aesthetic 

⇾  unfortunately, constance is one of those people that has to use precise grammar whenever she’s texting anyone

on that topic, she’ll definitely try to correct your grammar as well, but she claims it’s not in a mean way-it’s in a way where she genuinely thinks she’s helping

⇾  she unironically uses pinterest as a means of inspiration to make arts and crafts as gifts

hapi

⇾ hapi hardly has any social media, and the few accounts she has she never posts on. she’ll like her friends’ posts and even comment if she feels like it, but in terms of her own feed she doesn’t really care much. the few pictures she does have are of scenery, the stars, or nature. 

⇾ hapi is the lurker of any groupchat she’s in, and the queen of one-worded replies. she texts very quickly and bluntly, ignoring capitalization or grammar. 

it usually takes her a while to respond to texts (a minimum of one hour), but when she does respond she can keep the conversation going for a surprising amount of time before she leaves you on read. progress. 

she uses emojis when she doesn’t feel like responding. her most used are the thumbs up and thumbs down emojis. 

⇾ since she enjoys collecting pebbles, she spends a lot of her time walking around parks, botanical gardens, and on the beach. occasionally she flexes her rock collection on her story. 

⇾ she has a bunch of succulents splayed across her room because she “likes plants, but isn’t very good at committing to keeping them alive”. she has names for all of her plants, and if you ask nicely she may tell you. 

balthus 

⇾ hear me out- balthus plays bingo. it’s the safer, legal way to gamble and he still gets the rush of adrenaline from winning something (plus, he wins money. legal money. of course, it’s not a hobby anyone would expect him to have, but it is quite the sight to see balthus crouched over a long table, dauber in hand, two tiny old women on either side of him. 

⇾ he’s relatively active on social media, posting mostly pictures of himself at bars, with friends, or new foods he’s tried. he’s a bit like a dad in his captions (“out drinking with my best pal yuri!”, “another day, another dollar!”) but they’re fun to read nonetheless. 

⇾ balthus responds very quickly to texts, the few times he takes a while being because he’s either gambling or out drinking (but even then he’s skilled at multitasking). he’s one of the best people to text because carries every conversation with enthusiasm and lightheartedness. 

definitely the type to send funny videos or posts that he thought you might like. if he’s sent any back he smiles about it for the rest of the day

⇾ posts thirst traps intentionally and unintentionally, more often the latter. sometimes he posts without looking over the entire picture, so a picture of his dog he posted with innocent intent is a bit clouded by the clear HD image of his shirtless body in the mirror. 

[notmydayjob]

a walk in two worlds | john laurens x reader.

words: 1.8k

warnings: a little bit about slavery just because its john, parent death, fluff and some possibly sexual comments if you think on it

desc: your father is british general whose been called to fight in georgia, with him gone and you alone in new york things are bound to happen, especially after you meet a certain soldier boy.

this is my first hamilton fic and I wanted to say a couple things before it got it started. First of all I am white writer and I write my fics to be inclusive but there may be things that I may not realize are excluding people because I’ve had the privilege of not being excluded so if you notice anything then please message me and I’ll be more than happy to edit it. second i wrote this at 3 am and even if nobody reads it i’ll probably make a pt2 but lemme know.

i kinda picked and choosed what i wanted to use from hamilton and real life so obviously not historically accurate 

There’s nothing quite like summer in the city, children running in the streets, the sound of hooves on the brick laid roads, and the hot sun shining down on busy men and women. You had just moved into the city with your father but soon after you arrived your father was called away to join the fight in Georgia. You were left behind with only your housekeeper who functioned as a Nanny when you were a child. Your mother had died when you were very young and your father worked so Joan was the closest thing to family you had. Before your father left he gave you three instructions. One, the city can be a dangerous place for a young beautiful girl, don’t go downtown. Two, if you must stray from the house never go anywhere unaccompanied. Three, the revolutionists are reckless and ruinous, stay away. Your father was a smart man but often worried too much especially for you. It took nearly three days to convince Joan to let you leave the house. “I will come with you then, just let me finish my chores, and then we may go, but we are staying uptown, it’s nice here, awfully quiet too.” She said when she finally caved. You thanked her profusely but unbeknownst to her when she turned her back to you, you slipped out the back door. When your father left he took the carriage with him and the coachman had not yet returned so you had to walk into the city. You weren’t complaining though, the weather was warm and the fresh air was refreshing after a  week of house arrest. As you approached the downtown district of Manhattan you noticed a noticeable drop in wealth due to many of its residents being either college students, revolutionists, or merchants. A young man stood on a soapbox in the city square ranting about the unjust taxes and the recent events in Boston while a large crowd cheered around him. Propaganda flyers were hung on every storefront and street lamp, you took one and quickly shoved it into the bottom of your basket next to a small bag of coins. For about 20 minutes you strolled around going between stands of vendors selling fruits, fans, furniture, and everything in between. You stopped at the stand of a man selling vegetables and began picking out a few. You clearly felt a presence behind you but stayed focused on your task. “What is a pretty young lady like you doin’ in the city all by herself.” The presence spoke smoothly. You looked up from under the brim of your hat to see a man around your age maybe a few years older. His curly black hair was tied up tightly at the back of his head. Your eyes then traveled to the rich blue coat he proudly wore. “Minding my own business.” You said flatly as you turned back to what you were doing. “You know there are a lot of dangerous people out here who might want to take advantage of such a pretty girl.” He said clearly thinking he was very smooth. “Is that so?” You responded as you paid for your goods. Maybe you were naive but he didn’t seem threatening, he seemed young, reckless, and a flirt which could be just as bad. “Yes ma’am, maybe I should be your escort to-” He began again but you cut him off. “What’s your name, sir.” You asked him curtly and for once turned to fully face him. “John Laurens.” He tipped his head to you. “Don’t you have something to protest Mr. Laurens.” You brushed past him and continued down the street but he was quick to follow you. “I’m a wonderful multitasker.” He chuckled softly at his own joke. You wanted to hate him, you wanted to believe everything your father said about revolutionists but this man was charming and had a gravitational pull that was nearly impossible for you to resist. You knew if he stopped following you then you would follow him, you just hoped he didn’t know that. “I’ve never seen you around here before.” “Is that supposed to be a question, Mr. Laurens.” From the side of your vision, you could see the grin on his face, he liked having you riled up. “My father and I just moved uptown.” “So a rich pretty girl.” He said to himself with the full intention of you hearing to which you scoffed. “Am I wrong?” He stepped out in front of you locking his honey brown eyes with yours. You simply rolled your eyes in protest. “That’s what I thought.” His smirk was so genuine and charming it made you smile back to which he beamed brightly. “So what does the pretty girl’s father do for such wealth.” He posed. “Old money.” You stated simply to avoid the topic but he was clearly not satisfied. “He’s a general.” You stared intently over at him to gauge his reaction. John immediately stopped in his tracks and the smirk on his fell. “I take it we’re on different sides of the war.” He nodded slowly not meeting your eyes. His sudden quietness intrigued you, it seemed like that would have only made him mouthier. “That’s right.” Your voice was nearly inaudible but your beg for him not to turn away was loud enough for him to stay even for just a moment longer. You were not content with those being your last words so you continued: “My father believes that the King is a just one.” You chose your words intentionally, hoping he would take the bait yet shocked when he did. “And what do you believe?” You didn’t quite know how to respond to his question. No one had ever asked for your political opinion, especially not a man. “Well,” The small grin was already appearing on your face. “The price of tea is far too high nowadays.” The smile was quick to come to his face though he played it off with a joking scoff and eye roll. “So, does the beautiful young lady have a name?” “Y/n.” “Y/n,” He repeated your words testing it out to see if he liked it, apparently he did because the next thing he asked was where the two of you were headed next. You went to the silversmith, and he talked about growing up on a plantation in South Carolina and the things he saw happen to his father’s slaves. You went to the bakery and he told you his dreams of giving those men their freedom so they could join him in fighting in the war. You found him more endearing the longer you talked to him. You let your guard down and showed him your interest in what he had to say and you no longer tried to hide the laughs and smiles that he pulled out of you. “What about you?” He asked as he held the door to the general store open for you. “What about me?” You asked promptly. “Oh, come on, I’ve done nothing but talk, you have to return the favor.” His smirk grew quickly. You simply rolled your eyes but let yourself smile to show that you found the joke at least a little funny. “There’s not much to tell until two weeks ago I stayed in my home back in London and did what I was asked.” You explained. “Will you grab the jam jar on the top shelf for me?” You could probably reach it but you wanted to see how quickly he would please you. He in fact did follow your request but not before taking a step closer to you, pressing you against the shelf as he reached over you to grab the jar above your head. “You don’t seem like the type to quietly obey.” John’s voice was low, lower than you’d ever heard it before and quiet enough so that you were the only one who heard his words. He did this on the purpose of course, what he said was only for you. He brought his hand down to give you the jar, your hand resting on his for just a moment. That’s when you realized this was the first time you’d touched, and now that’s all you wanted to do and the brushing of hands wasn’t nearly enough. As you went to stutter out an answer the shouting that was coming through the front door pulled both of you out of your moment. “Y/n M/n L/n, there you are, oh my god!” Joan ran straight for you. Her pale cheeks flushed and grey hair falling loose from her low bun. “I thought you’d run away, do you know how upset your father will be?” “Father isn’t here, you don’t have to tell him anything.” You proposed. “Is this your mother?” John interjected as he held his hand out for her to take. “No, she’s my handler.” You said with a hint of annoyance. Joan gave John her hand and he promptly placed a kiss on the back of it, you felt yourself become envious of her hand. Her cheeks turned bright red, you were sure she would tell you about how she hasn’t gotten this much attention from men since she was 20. “Joan this is John Laurens, John Laurens this is Joan.” You nearly groaned out. Joan quickly spoke up again right when you saw her eyes fall on Johns’s coat. “Oh my! Y/n we must be headed home now!” She grabbed your hand and began to drag you to the door. “Joan, Joan!” You shouted for attention before dangling your basket in front of her face. “I’ll pay for these.” She took the basket from your hands. “You wait outside.” She shooed you away. You exited the shop making sure that John was following. “Maybe we should make a run for it.” You turned to John as he chuckled. “I don’t think so, you’ll give the poor woman a heart attack.” He said then a silence fell between you. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you though.” “Neither do I.” You said softly. “May I write you?” John quickly turned towards you, swooping your hands into his and holding them close to his heart. “Yes.” You nodded as you stared intently and how he held you. “John, this won’t be easy, my father would never-” “I know.” He said simply as he smiled at you and for just a moment you didn’t care about what your father would say. “Alright, Y/n, it’s time for us to head home,” Joan said as she came out the door. “Goodbye, Y/n.” He took your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Goodbye, John Laurens.”

[cocochannel00]

Hi, I've been hooked on your posts about internships / music industry. Congratulations btw!! As a person studying a completely unrelated career (law student) I've been struggling to find a start point into the music / entertainmet industry. Could you give me any tips on how you started? And how did you manage to find transferable skills between your current degree and the positions you've been offered? I have so many questions and I'm so lost hahaha. Thanks for your time I really appreciate it.

Oh my god you are literally the sweetest, thank you! As for tips, the first thing you want to start to do is join facebook groups or linkedin groups with industry professionals or students interested in the field so that you can build your network. Entertainment and Music are both businesses that are heavily gate kept based on who you know so starting to connect with peoples is the best places to start. Girl's Behind the Rock Show (insta account and FB group), Color of Music Collective, She is The Music, Girls Who Listen, Women in Music, and All Access Community (Linkedin/Slack group and Insta account) are all great group or accounts to follow to get started with. Most of these host free Professional Panels and post internships/jobs as well which is great!

As for transferable skills, it's all about how you spin a situation. So for example, My major is in a health field so I spend time in hospitals so I usually use it as an example about how I'm good at multitasking, working under pressure, adapting to new situations, problem solving, etc. The best way is to always give an example (sometime you can even stretch the truth a bit- not make it up fully but work a situation to your advantage). A lot of times I don't even mention my major in interviews. I worked as a waitress (still do) for the past 3 years and customer services skills are super super important in music/entertainment because you're constantly dealing with people/clients so if you've ever worked a service job in any capacity (food service, lifeguard, camp counselor, custodial, secretary work, etc) talk about and make sure it's on your resume. Try and keep your experience within the last year or 2 if you can so that your work as well. I hope all of that was helpful and I'm always happy to answer any more questions on that subject if you'd like!!

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Adrienette: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter Two: Self-Help

At some point three years prior, before Adrien became cognizant of his crush on Marinette, he had surreptitiously begun to pay close attention to her. These years of reconnaissance allowed him to quickly pick up on the fact that something was up with his charming friend that Monday at school.

She was fidgety and distracted, obviously preoccupied by something.

Alya and some of the other girls noted her particularly odd behavior, but, when asked what was wrong, Marinette politely waved away their concerns and made excuses.

Adrien let it go that first day. He knew she had a lot on her plate with all of her extracurricular responsibilities. Marinette was rivaled only by Ladybug in her jam-packed schedule and need of multitasking.

When she was noticeably agitated the second day in a row, Adrien caught her as they were packing up to move classrooms, resting a hand on her forearm and giving her a confidence-inspiring smile.

“Hey. You’ve seemed really stressed out the past two days. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. Even if you just need to vent, I’m here for you, okay?”

She blinked, blushed, and looked away, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Adrien. I really appreciate the offer. I’m okay, though.”

His own smile faltered slightly because she obviously was not okay, but…if she didn’t want to confide in him, it wasn’t like he could force her.

He nodded, turned up the wattage on his grin, and removed his hand from her forearm. “Well…let me know if you ever change your mind.”

She nodded, returned the smile with one even more fake than his own, and quickly finished packing her books, hurrying out the door as fast as she could without appearing to be fleeing.

On the third day of watching the woman he loved in obvious distress, Adrien could no longer stand by and do nothing.

He packed up quickly and waited for her outside the locker room after school, and when she came out with Alya, he flagged her down, asking if she were headed home.

“May I walk you there?” he inquired, shooting Alya a quick, meaningful look.

Alya promptly remembered that she’d forgotten a notebook she needed back in her locker, literally pushing Marinette towards Adrien as she beat a hasty retreat.

Quick of reflexes, Adrien deftly stopped Marinette’s fall and helped her get steady on her feet.

“I’m going to kill Alya,” she seethed, straightening her jarred purse and backpack as they nearly slipped off her shoulders.

“Forgive her,” Adrien chuckled. “She and Nino have this scheme about setting us up with each other so that the four of us can double date. Goodness knows I need all the help I can get to make you fall for me. Alya is doing God’s work.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, glaring petulantly at her friend’s retreating back as Alya disappeared into the locker room. “Goodness also knows that I don’t need help falling flat on my face, so I think I can do without Alya shoving me.”

“Fair,” Adrien allowed, holding out a hand. “May I carry something?”

Marinette shook her head, hugging her sketchpad closer to her chest reflexively. “No, thanks. I’ve got it,” she assured, starting to head for home.

In the back of her mind, she worried about coming off as rude, but the last thing she needed was for Adrien to carry her books and somehow see the endless doodles she’d been doing of Chat Noir all week as she fretted ceaselessly about him.

Slightly dejected, Adrien slipped his hands into his pockets and followed after her, regretting her brisk pace, fearing it wouldn’t give them much time to talk.

“So…” He cleared his throat as they made their way down the school steps.

She looked back at him and nearly tripped to her death.

Luckily, he caught her by the arms, keeping her from nosediving into the concrete.

Unfortunately, her books and notebooks went flying as she flailed in the seconds before he steadied her.

Once he was sure she wasn’t going to fall, Adrien bent down to gather up her things, only to be stopped as she gasped, “Don’t look!” and rushed to retrieve them herself.

“Sorry,” she added when she came to her senses. “Just…private stuff. I don’t…” She paused to take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Sorry I’m being such a spazz today. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Is it anything I could help with?” he offered, holding out a hand to assist her back to her feet.

She shook her head, getting up on her own. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether or not to let it go.

“…I’m really worried about you,” he confessed after a moment, unable to hold it in.

She stopped mid-step, turning to face him with a puzzled expression. “…You are?”

“Yeah,” he replied in a hushed tone. “Seriously worried. You’ve been really off all week. I’m not trying to force you to talk to me if you don’t feel comfortable doing so, but…I just want you to be okay, and I don’t think you are, and I’m feeling kind of helpless, so…”

He almost felt bad for forcing her hand, but it was getting to the point where he was worried about Marinette getting akumatized, and that was no good for anyone because how was he supposed to fight against the girl he adored if worst came to worst?

He couldn’t…so he crossed his fingers and hoped he’d be forgiven for being slightly manipulative.

“I’m concerned about getting akumatized over worrying about you,” he told her with a grimace.

Her eyes flew wide in alarm before fluttering rapidly in a series of astonished blinks.

“And, if that happens, I’m scared my akumatized self will come after you because you’re technically the source of my negative emotions, and then you’ll be caught up in things,” he elaborated, “and I really don’t want that. The last thing I want to do is add to your stress, so…”

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and gave her a pleading look. “Sorry, but…isn’t there anything I can do to help? I’m not asking you to talk to me about your problems, but if there were some way I could feel like I wasn’t so powerless to help you…”

He watched as her surprise crumpled up like a note passed during class into a troubled, thoughtful expression.

“…Sorry for being such a pain. I don’t want to cause problems,” he added earnestly, dropping the act and retreating one step at a time. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, but if you do want to talk, know that I’m always here for you.”

He turned to go, but she caught him, fingers wrapping around his forearm, gripping, holding him in place.

“…Wait,” she called softly, a weary resignation in her voice.

He arched an eyebrow questioningly and waited for her to continue.

She sighed and tipped her head, motioning for him to come with her. “Walk with me a bit?”

“Sure,” he easily agreed and followed as she led him across the street and then past her house to the park next door.

They completed one lap around the square, Marinette deep in thought the whole time. Then, she went and took a seat on one of the park benches, and he sat beside her, waiting patiently for her to give some kind of cue.

She inhaled deeply and, gazing down intently at her shoes all the while, finally spoke. “So…there’s this guy.”

Adrien stiffened, his heart screeching to a halt as his mind called up helpful memories of all the times Ladybug had told him about her mystery boy.

Why was there always some other guy? Adrien wondered bitterly but then mentally slapped himself because of course there were guys in the lives of smart, talented, beautiful women like Marinette and Ladybug.

“A friend,” Marinette clarified. “A really close friend, and I’m worried sick about him,” she sighed heavily, shaking her head, at a loss as to what to do.

Adrien relaxed slightly at the friendship label but didn’t let his guard down as she continued.

“He’s having some trouble with mental health and his family relationships, and I think he’s really depressed.” She looked up from her feet to meet Adrien’s gaze, and it hurt his heart to see the glistening tears blurring her vision. “I’m scared, Adrien, and I feel really useless because there’s nothing I can do to help him.

“It’s complicated,” she explained softly, looking away as if it would hide her guilt as shame turned her cheeks pink. “I can’t be there for him the way a friend should, so…I guess I’m feeling for him what you’re feeling for me. I’ve been agonizing over this since Saturday night, and I don’t know what to do. I know that there’s nothing to do. I just wish I could make it all okay for him.”

She lifted her head once more as she vehemently informed, “Adrien, he’s one of the sweetest, best people I know, and he deserves better than what he’s stuck with. I wish there was something I could do so that he wouldn’t have to struggle so much. He shouldn’t have to.”

Adrien nodded, tentatively reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re such a good friend, Marinette. I wish someone would worry about me like that,” he chuckled, but the manufactured mirth didn’t quite make it into his voice. “He’s really lucky. It sounds like you care about your friend a lot.”

She smiled wretchedly, giving a sad little nod as she admitted, “I love him.”

It felt like getting hit with an icy blast of winter air or walking outside without a coat, shocking his system.

His hand froze on her arm.

It took a minute for him to form words, and, when he did, they came out stilted and awkward, betraying his distraction. “Oh. Wow. Uh… That’s… He’s really lucky.”

Marinette tipped her head to the side, frowning in concern. “Is everything all right, Adrien?”

“Sorry.” He forced a smile, cheeks stinging as he blushed. “Ignore me. I was just a little surprised because I think this is the first I’ve heard about you having your eye on someone. I mean, it’s only natural that you would, but…”

His hand went up reflexively to rub at the back of his neck, and he shook his head, trying to clear away his muddled thoughts. He was supposed to be helping her feel better, not having a pity party for himself.

“Sorry,” he repeated softly, sheepishly. “I’m just kind of flustered…and more than a little bit jealous,” he added honestly.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open, and she leaned in to stare at him in shock. “W-Wait. What? Like…what?”

“I thought I was pretty obvious,” Adrien laughed openly at himself, hoping to keep the atmosphere light so that she wouldn’t see his heart breaking. “You really didn’t know I have feelings for you?”

Slowly, she began to shake her head from side to side, speechless in her astonishment as she tried to determine whether or not she was dreaming this entire scenario up.

“Marinette,” he chuckled more genuinely, his voice warm and affectionate. “You’re amazing. Any guy who didn’t fall in love with you would have to be a total idiot.”

She gripped the bench seat to keep herself from tipping over and falling flat in the dirt.

Her head was spinning. How could this be happening? Adrien loved her?

Impossible.

And yet…he was looking at her with such a fond, soft expression in his eyes. It was just like the looks Chat Noir often gave Ladybug, so… Maybe it was real.

Her lips parted to respond, to confess her own feelings, but Adrien cut her off.

His eyes widened in alarm, and he gave a start, jolting back and putting up his hands in defence. “…Oh, but, I mean, I totally support you! With this guy. If he’s the one you love…. I support you,” he rushed to assure.

Marinette blinked, mentally reeling from the whiplash.

Did he love her or not? She wasn’t entirely sure now, if he weren’t willing to fight for her. His affections couldn’t be that strong if he was okay with giving up so easily.

“More than anything, I’m your friend, so I don’t want my feelings for you to get in the way of that or make things weird between us,” he explained, desperate for her to understand. “So, if you have to pretend that I never said anything, that’s totally fine. I support you. Whatever makes you happy is the most important thing.”

She had to pause to consider before responding. Her thoughts were so twisted up like a ball of writhing serpents battling to consume one another.

“Thank you, Adrien. That’s so sweet, and it’s seriously not a problem,” she promised, reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine…. Honestly, there’s nothing for you to support. Things aren’t going to work between me and my friend, so…thank you, but nothing’s going to happen between us.”

Adrien’s eyebrows gradually pulled together into a V of concern. “Is it…because of his mental health situation?”

Marinette recoiled, staring at him in stupefaction. “What? No! No, of course not! Nothing like that. He’s amazing, and I’d be more than willing to stay by his side and support him through his struggles. He’s worth putting in the hard work for.”

Adrien’s stomach stopped clenching, and a faint hope welled up in his chest. If things weren’t going to work out between Marinette and this other guy, maybe Adrien still had a chance. Maybe she could see past Adrien’s struggles and still care for him too.

“So…what exactly is the problem, if you don’t mind me asking?” he pressed gently, chewing nervously at the inside of his lip.

She looked away, frowning down at her knees. “It’s…complicated.”

Adrien arched an eyebrow. “Is he gay?”

It was the only reason Adrien could come up with why a guy wouldn’t want to overcome all obstacles to be with Marinette.

Marinette chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. He’s bi, so…”

She looked back up at him, scrutinizing his face, evaluating his trustworthiness. “…I’m going to tell you a secret.”

He scooted in closer, nodding that he was ready. “I won’t tell a soul.”

She glanced around, scanning the area to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard before she lowered her voice, whispering, “It’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly. The words meant nothing to him.

Seeing his confusion, Marinette elaborated, her cheeks turning cherry blossom pink as she confessed, “My friend, the guy I’m in love with…it’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien’s brain crashed, and it took him a good ten seconds to reboot.

His initial inclination was to laugh hysterically because finally his love was requited, and he couldn’t have asked for a better romantic partner than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

His mind next trotted off to construct a detailed plan of all the ways he was going to make her happy and spoil her rotten.

It then occurred to him that he needed to tell her his identity, but then he decided to table that idea because Ladybug would be furious, and he wasn’t sure how Marinette would react.

He also wasn’t so sure that this was the best time to reveal his identity because Marinette was convinced that things wouldn’t work between them. She was also currently upset…because of him.

“You’ve been worried all week because of Chat Noir?” Adrien breathed as his brain came back online.

She nodded meekly. “I…Yes. He’s having a rough time, and I’m worried that there’s nothing I can do to help him. I’m not doing a very good job as his friend.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Marinette and pulling her into a fierce hug.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered into her hair, wishing he could express how much it meant to him, knowing that her skylight door was always open when he needed a safe space to escape from his life.

He may not have confided in her before about how bad things were because he was afraid of burdening her and scaring her away, but all the times when she’d allowed him to hang out on her balcony or in her room, all the times she and her parents had strong-armed him into making dinner and eating with them once they’d found out he ate alone most meals, all the times she’d saved pastries for him and Plagg…

Chat Noir might not have let Marinette see how dark it was inside of his mind, but she’d always been there to help right when he needed her. She’d gotten him through many tough times, even if she’d never known it.

He pulled back to look her intently in the eyes. “Marinette, I’ve seen you two together before, and Chat Noir is crazy about you. Trust me. I can tell. If you love him and he loves you, why can’t you two be together?”

“Adrien, he’s a superhero,” Marinette snorted, rolling her eyes as if the problem were obvious.

“So?” he scoffed right back. “You don’t think you’re good enough for a superhero or something? Marinette, Chat Noir is the one not good enough for you. Stop being humble and date him already.”

“I’m not being humble,” she returned saucily. “I’m being practical. I can’t date a guy whose identity I don’t know.”

“Then let him reveal his identity to you,” Adrien suggested matter-of-factly. “You’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I am not,” she protested, crossing her arms indignantly. “It’s too dangerous for me to know his identity.”

“How so?” he argued. “All you have to do is just not tell anyone that you know. Don’t get caught kissing Chat Noir, and no one will be the wiser. No one’s going to think twice if you start dating his civilian self.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to see his point. “What if I get caught up in an akuma attack and get brainwashed into revealing his secrets?”

“Chat Noir has been mind-controlled countless times, and he hasn’t given away his secret identity yet,” Adrien continued to stack solid argument on top of solid argument. “If you don’t tell anyone you know who Chat Noir is, Papillon won’t know to come after you. You’re perfectly safe so long as you keep your mouth shut. I think you can manage that, Marinette.”

“What if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she tried in one last-ditch attempt.

He frowned at her in mildly annoyed disappointment. “Has there ever been a truth-telling akuma? In the past three and a half years?”

She averted her gaze, her lip pushing forward into a pout.

“No. No, there has not,” he answered his own question triumphantly. “See? I’m not going to say it’s perfectly safe for him to reveal himself to you, but the risk is small enough that I feel comfortable with you taking it. Don’t you think he would be worth it?”

“Of course he would be worth it,” she replied in a small, tired whisper. “It’s just…it’s complicated, Adrien.”

“It’s really not as complicated as you’re making it,” he sighed, gently cupping her cheek and tipping her head up to make her look at him. “Marinette, you’re a wonderful person, and you deserve happiness and love. Why won’t you let yourself have this?”

Her lips slowly moved into a self-deprecating smile, and she shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid that I really am a masochist who doesn’t allow herself to have nice things.”

It was like a foggy pane of glass shattered between them at her words, and Adrien flashed back to Ladybug sitting on the roof of Sainte Chapelle saying the same thing Saturday night.

He couldn’t breathe.

“What…did you say?” he choked as the pieces slid together: Ladybug’s insistence that Chat go to Marinette when Ladybug couldn’t be there for him herself. Marinette’s claims that things were complicated between herself and Chat Noir.

She shook her head again. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

His Lady, his Princess…the same person? Could he be so lucky?

Her brow pinched into a frown as she registered his expression. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“Because I love you,” he chuckled giddily, rendering her utterly speechless.

She found that she literally couldn’t remember how to make her mouth, brain, and vocal cords work in concert to form any kind of reply, so she just sat there, parting and closing her lips like a drowning fish.

“Hey,” he called softly, slipping his hand into hers. “I really need to talk to you. It’s important,” he emphasized. “Could we please head to your house so we can talk undisturbed?”

She tried to speak, but it came out sounding like a collection of gibberish syllables, so, instead, she nodded and got to her feet, leading him back to her house and up the stairs to her room.

He had to let go of her hand in order to file up the narrow staircase, and, by the time they reached the attic, Marinette’s brain was once again semi-functional.

She took a seat on her chaise longue and motioned for him to sit anywhere he liked, urging, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m good standing, thanks,” he assured. “I’m actually feeling kind of jittery, so…do you mind if I pace?”

“Uh…go right ahead,” she encouraged, watching as he did indeed start to walk back and forth across her carpet. “…You said that you needed to talk to me?”

He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, “Yeah. Yeah. I did. I do. I…”

He bit his lip, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to get his harried thoughts in order. “I’m not sure you want to know, but I feel like I have to tell you. You’re not going to be happy, but this isn’t something I can keep from you.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “Honestly, I’ve kind of been in a dark place lately, Marinette.”

Her eyes rounded, pupils dilating in fear for yet another one of the most precious boys in her life going through a hard time.

“I’ve been feeling pretty down,” he confessed. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother anyone or make them worry.”

“Adrien, we’re your friends,” she scolded, fighting back a whirlwind of emotions.

Hurt that he hadn’t trusted her, frustration that he thought so little of himself and how much he meant to them.

“Worrying about one another and supporting each other is what friends do,” she stressed, hands going to her hips. “When you need help or just someone to listen to you vent, you come to us. We will always be there for you.”

His lips quirked into a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I know. I just…have self-esteem issues. But I’m coming to you now, so…better late than never?”

Her expression softened, and she pushed herself up, going to him and wrapping him in a loose hug. “Oh, Adrien…you idiot.”

He rested his head against hers, muttering, “I was also afraid to talk to you about it because I was worried about ruining my chances with you. I know I wouldn’t want to deal with me and all of my insecurities and hang-ups. I couldn’t imagine someone as epic as you picking someone like me when you could do so much better.”

“Adrien,” she cooed, pulling back to meet his gaze with an abundance of sympathy and affection. “Don’t…say things like that. There are so many amazing things about you.”

“That’s what Plagg said too,” he chuckled softly.

She blinked, her brain not registering. “Plagg?”

He nodded. “Saturday…I told Ladybug about how lost and alone I’d been feeling, and she told me to come talk to you…so here I am.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped as she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing.

Saturday night, Ladybug had talked to Chat Noir, not Adrien, so…

Her lungs seized, cutting off her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered like a chastened child waiting to be struck. “I know you didn’t want to reveal identities and that’s why you sent me to Marinette instead of trying to help as Ladybug, but…I think the cat’s out of the bag, My Lady.”

To her credit, Marinette did not faint. She would have liked to because, if she were unconscious, she wouldn’t have to deal with reality right away, but she remained in full control of her faculties and, thus, had to attend to the matter at hand in real time.

“I need to sit down,” she announced, heading back over to the chaise to compose herself.

Adrien followed nervously, taking a seat beside her without infringing upon her personal space. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She waved away his words, shaking her head. “No. No. It’s fine. I…This is my fault. I knew you could potentially figure out my identity every time I had Chat Noir over to watch movies or play video games. I knew I was taking a risk.”

She turned to look him in the eye. “If I had the chance to do it all over, I wouldn’t change anything.”

“Oh,” he whispered, dazed as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, smiling softly.

“I don’t regret anything except not being able to be there for you more,” she added, making his heart swell. “But now we have to sit down and figure out what to do about this catastrophe now that we’re here.”

He arched an eyebrow, echoing, “Catastrophe?”

She nodded. “I mean…you know my identity. We’re in grave danger, Chaton.”

Deep furrows gradually dug their way across his brow. “Are we actually, though?”

She blinked, taken aback.

“Is this really the end-of-the-world scenario you think it is?” he pressed. “Like what I was saying earlier, if we don’t advertise that we know, why should Papillon target Marinette and Adrien more than any other Parisian?”

Marinette opened her mouth to argue her point but then closed it again when she realized that she didn’t have any good rebuttals to make.

“That’s why I’m always so careful when I come over here as Chat Noir. I don’t let myself get spotted coming and going so that I don’t tip anyone off to the fact that you’re important to me and could be used against me,” he explained, scooting in a little closer on the chaise. “If no one knows we know, how are we in danger?”

She pursed her lips and thought hard, trying to come up with a way to refute his logic. “…But what if there’s a truth-telling akuma?” she inquired weakly, knowing the feeble argument wouldn’t hold water.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and swore, “I would literally die before I betrayed you.”

Her heart cracked open at the very thought, and tears started to stream down her face.

“You die too much already,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to die…. I love you.”

He didn’t protest as she leaned in and pressed a butterfly’s wing beat of a kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” he chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “No dying. We’ll figure something else out, but it’s going to be okay, Marinette. No matter what, we’ll get through this together.”

“Promise?” she hummed, a gentle smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Promise,” he affirmed, inching forward to steal a more substantial kiss.

When they broke apart, there was a question in his eyes. “…Me being Adrien doesn’t change the way you feel about me, does it? You said you loved Chat Noir, but…”

A scarlet flare lit up her cheeks and spread across the bridge of her nose as she finally confessed, “You know the mystery boy I’ve been pining after since we were thirteen?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeeeees?”

“His name is Adrien Agreste,” she giggled.

He burst out laughing. “You have horrible taste in men.”

She slapped him playfully on the arm. “You have horrible self-esteem. That’s the real problem here. I only fall for the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful guys. I have impeccable taste.”

“…You really think so?” he sought to verify, amazed that such a thing could be true, that such a woman could want him.

She nodded, gaze earnest. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Adrien. We’re going to have to work on changing that.”

“Is this a team effort thing now?” he hummed, delighted by the prospect.

“Absolutely,” she confirmed…but then the air of teasing left her. “…I’ve been really worried about you since Saturday. If there’s anything—anything—I can do for you, please let me know. …What do you think I could do to help?”

He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek for a moment before answering. “…I don’t know, really. You’ve done so much already for me as Chat Noir just by giving me a warm, safe, place to go when I need to escape. I feel bad asking for more.”

“Don’t,” she urged. “It really is fine, Adrien. Earlier, you said that you wanted me to be okay, didn’t you? That’s how I feel about you too, so don’t ever feel bad for asking.”

Slowly, he began to nod as comprehension dawned upon him. “…Oh….”

She gave him an encouraging smile and squeezed his hand. “Yeah.”

Blushing, he looked down at their joined hands. “Okay. Well…I’ll have to let you know as I think of things, but…I don’t know if there’s a whole lot you can do. I think a lot of being mentally healthy starts and ends with me, so…I think I have to do most of the work myself.”

“But you can still let me know if there’s anything I can do to support you,” she reminded.

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. …I will. I think mostly I just need someone to talk to about things.”

“You can talk to me whenever you need to,” she assured. “I mean, I hardly sleep, so you can call or text whenever.”

He frowned at this. “I think maybe we need to reevaluate your self-care behaviors while we’re at it. I’ve always known that Marinette had a crazy hectic schedule full of stress and deadlines, but now that I know you’re juggling a side gig as a superhero on top of everything you do as Marinette, I’m kind of worried.”

She averted her gaze, sticking her lip out in a pout. “I liked it better when we were focusing on you.”

“I’ll bet you did,” he snickered. “Just know that this is a two-way street. I’m here for you too, Marinette.”

She dropped the pout and looked up at him with a soft smile. “Thanks…. I think you should talk to Nino about how you’ve been feeling lately. Maybe Alya too, if you feel comfortable talking to her, but definitely Nino. He’s going to freak.”

Adrien winced. “Yeah…. Yeah, I know. I just don’t want—”

“—Don’t you dare mention being a burden or bothering him,” she warned. “Nino would be insulted. He loves you literally as much as he loves his brother, if not, more.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, sufficiently cowed. “I’ve just been too scared to say anything.”

She hesitated before continuing, “And…you know…maybe we could go see a therapist?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise at the suggestion. “A therapist?”

She nodded tentatively. “I know I’m awesome, but I’m only seventeen, Adrien. There are a lot of things that I’m completely clueless about. I’ve looked into psychology a little bit to help me deal with akuma victims, but I’m not an expert. I was just thinking that maybe talking to a counselor would be helpful. Maybe they’ll think of things that could help that we would never come up with on our own.”

“That’s true,” he allowed, considering the idea.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I just know that there are a lot of times where I think, ‘Man, I wish I had an adult to help me out with this’. Most of the time I’m completely on my own—besides you and the others and Tikki, I mean…. I was just thinking that this is maybe one time where we don’t have to go it alone. Maybe an adult can help.”

“I’ll think about it,” he granted. “It would be hard to see a doctor without my father finding out, and he isn’t going to like this, but…it’s a good idea,” he agreed.

“Good,” she sighed in relief, leaning into a languid, exploratory kiss that Adrien was more than happy to return.

They broke apart a few minutes later with a contented hum and stared dreamily into each other’s eyes.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Adrien, and he gave a start.

“Stupid question,” he announced hesitantly.

“No such thing,” she assured, wrapping her arms around him more snugly.

“Are we dating now?” he warily inquired. “Sorry. Do I need to ask you out still? I mean, I assume we’re on the same page because we both said that we loved one another, and we’ve been kissing, so one would think that we’re dating, but I just wanted to make sure because I’ve never done this before, and I’m—”

“—Adrien?” she cut him off gently.

He tipped his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Will you go out with me?” she asked so that there would be no doubt in his mind as to what she wanted.

“Yes,” he responded breathlessly, and the joy in his eyes made her heart melt.

“Good,” she chuckled. “For our first date, would you want to have movie night tonight? We could snuggle on the couch and make cookies together.”

He surprised her by saying no.

“That can’t be our first date,” he whined. “It’s not romantic enough. I’ve had our first date planned for years, Princess. There have to be rose petals and candles and mood music. We’re supposed to eat at this amazing restaurant and take ballroom dancing lessons and then have a rooftop picnic as we watch the stars and snuggle. We can’t have a night in as our first date,” he argued.

She stared at him with a deadpan expression, debating whether it would be damaging to their nascent relationship for her to face-palm.

“My boyfriend is a high-maintenance dork,” she sighed.

“Hey,” he pouted, and she could almost see his ears and tail drooping despite the fact that he wasn’t transformed.

“All right,” she relented. “If we don’t call it a date, would you like to hang out and snuggle and watch movies and bake cookies?”

“Definitely,” he easily approved but then thought to add softly, in a slightly hurt tone, “I’m not silly, you know, for wanting my first date with the woman I love to be everything I’ve ever dreamed it would be.”

“No,” she agreed, reaching up to stroke his hair lovingly. “I’m sorry. You’re not. You deserve to have the first date of your dreams. I shouldn’t have scoffed, even if it is a bit more…” She searched for the word, came up with “over the top”, and decided against voicing it. “…more than I had in mind,” she ended conciliatorily.

“I love you, and I want you to have nice things,” she assured, earning herself an affectionate nuzzle from him.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

She then did something she knew she would later regret as a show of her love for him: “You can plan our first date,” she offered. “Whatever you want it to be. Go wild.”

The way his eyes lit up at her giving him free rein confirmed her fears…yet, the pure joy in his expression made her think that, if a crazy rom-com-cliché-filled date was the price of his happiness, it was well worth it.

The End

[cowandcalf]

Writer’s Month 2020 - To Find A Way

Prompt No.14 - Metamorphosis Part II

Chapter 1 - 7

They watch Grace play. Danny stays close the to climbing frame with all the ropes to make sure he could run to the rescue if his girl should get into trouble. Steve mimics a statue and stays silent for a long time. Danny's tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth. All the great remarks he figured he could throw at Steve dissolve into a fog.

He learns once more how difficult it is to transport a special, magical mood into a normal Wednesday. Steve seems to be miles away. The bonding moment they've experienced is non-existent. Danny can't stand the silence any longer. If he wants the quiet, he hikes to the top of a damn mountain or goes snorkeling. "Hey, you okay there, Steve?" He side-eyes the tall, dark, handsome guy next to him.

Steve licks his lips and squints into the bright sunlight. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You had, uh, a scare this morning with Mary, rattles every man. We think pregnant women are fragile but God, believe me, they're not."

Steve shoots him a thoughtful glance. "You speak from experience, I think. You're a father. You have a sweet girl."

Danny knows Steve doesn't mean to sound reproachful, but his words affect him. "Yes, that's my baby girl. I'm a proud father. We have the life we choose. Or sometimes life chooses us."

"So, you're married? Do you plan on having more children? I haven't seen your wife." Steve gets braver. He even turns and stands closer to Danny. Danny likes where this is going. Steve's checking the turf.

"I was married. Rachel and I have worked hard to become friends for Grace's sake. And no, no more kids on the way. I'm divorced and, uh, I'm single." Danny can't look at Steve. The urge to explain is still pressuring behind his chest. He kind of swipes the playground with his eyes. He hopes he sounds nonchalantly enough. "I'm here for Grace. Today, I mean. It's uh, Rachel, her mother, has an appointment and her husband's not here yet. I'm an emergency backup. Didn't expect to run into you on the maternity ward, though." Danny twists his upper body to check up on Steve's mood. "I honest to God thought Mary's your wife." Okay, his heartbeat just picked up speed. His mouth is as dry as the Gobi Desert.

Steve goes quiet again. Danny senses his troubled mind and wished Steve would be a bit more responsive. It's no fun to talk to a menhir. Danny doesn't get easily pushed out of his comfort zone. But add emotions to the mix and he's as light as a feather in strong wind. Jeez. Danny purses his lips. He fights the urge to assure Steve he's into guys too and that there's nothing wrong with the circumstance to have a family with a woman and why the hell does he even bother? This guy drives him nuts. Danny's armpits are uncomfortably wet.

"No, Mary's my younger sister. I wouldn't be a good father, I guess. I wouldn't know what to do with a helpless bundle, too scared to mess up. I don't know. I've never had to make that decision –" Steve bends his head and watches his shoes, "if I wanna be a father I mean. Hasn't happened so far." He adds.

"Hey, you did well. You made sure Mary's well taken care of."

"We had a big argument before she let me maneuver her into my truck to drive her to the hospital. She's so stubborn. I found her on all four, doing garden work. I freaked. She had cramps and I was so scared. She said, she overdid it and that's all. She just wanted to lie down until everything would calm down. But I couldn't – " Steve rubs with his fist at his forehead. "I got so scared. I had this horror movie running through my mind. I saw how she gave birth, collapsing out on the lawn behind the house or something like this. I needed to bring her here. I can handle tough calls but not when it's my baby sister nine months pregnant with my niece. I've just lost my nerves, I guess." Steve laughs bashfully. "Not my bravest moment."

"You did good, Steve. Mary's going to be fine and she'll be okay. You'll see, nature knows how to do what needs to be done when it's time. Women give birth since humanity exists. Kawika is with her. You're fine and I know you're going to spoil your niece rotten once she's born."

Steve smiles at him and Danny's bones turn into useless goo. "Why haven't you texted? Called? I thought you wanted to get that rain check on lunch?" Danny chews on his bottom lip. His eyes scan the playground to make sure Grace isn't in any danger. "I've waited for your call." Should he have said that? Too much pressure, no, he shouldn't have said that.

Steve clears his throat. "Yeah, about that. I, uh, I was hungry, but I got caught up in work. You know, uhm, I had to get the seedlings into the ground. I would have – would have called, you know? But days," Steve steps closer, still with his arms crossed over his chest as if he has to hug himself, "days sometimes flow into each other and I can't really say how much time has passed. It's been almost a week since we've met and when time passes the things that happened start to shape in something else. I wasn't – it was an intense afternoon. I, uhm," Steve draws a breath before he continues, "you saw me at the worst. I wasn't sure if you wanted to, you know, go for lunch, have a chat. I'm not the funny average guy to talk about the weather over chicken salad."

Danny has his eyes on Grace. He wants to give Steve the space to have his mini freak-out about the fact he might have scared Danny off. He ignores how the heat in the pit of his stomach flows in all directions. "You forgot my number." Danny states calmly, "just say it, Steve. Be honest. I'm not offended. Okay a bit, yes, a bit. I'm offended a bit that you forgot my number." Danny rocks on his heels back and forth while he rambles. "I expected a SEAL, even a SEAL buried up to his nose in flowers and plants to remember a few, easy numbers. Don't you get trained for that? I thought you're tough multitasking guys. The Army is a fun club."

Steve stiffens and scoffs. "I haven't forgotten your number. It's 808-925-1717. Happy? And it's the Navy, Danny. The Navy."

Danny can't believe how fast Steve falls for that dumb joke. "God, you're so easy to tease. Don't be so uptight about it. Look at you, all puffed out chest and standing at attention. I know, man, it's the Navy. I didn't mean to offend you." He hopes his smile is appeasing. "Good to know you didn't forget my number." He darts a look at Steve and sees how he sets his jaw to keep his lips from being pulled into a grin. Instead, he gazes off into the distance and fishes his cell from the pocket and unlocks the screen.

Two seconds later, Danny's cell rings. He takes the call with the unknown caller ID. "Yeah, Detective Williams, HPD – who's it?" He frowns hard at Steve who stands there like a boy who has all fun doing a silly prank.

"Yeah, Detective Williams, McGarrett here, Steve McGarrett. Do you remember me?"

"Yes, you big goof. The Army guy, isn't it?" Danny can't control the laughter. He really needed to say that.

Steve glares at him, for real this time. "You owe me a fat rain check on lunch and for being too dense to know the difference between the Army and the Navy. I'm hungry. Lunch. Today. You're paying. You're in?"

"You know how stupid this is to stand three feet apart and to give me a call, don't you? I can hear you talking and the echo in my hear is strange. How old are you? Five?"

"You haven't answered my question." Steve still speaks into his phone and watches Danny at the same time.

"Yes. Lunch. Today. Good. I'm in. Where do you wanna go?"

"Have you ever taken Grace to Kame's shrimp truck for Kame's specialty of the day? She'll love it."

Whenever Steve says Grace's name, Danny gets kind of dizzy with something he doesn't want to explore. Steve watches him with a gentle, kind expression. Too much for Danny's heart to stand for more than five seconds. "No, I haven't but Kame's place it is." He hangs up.

"See?" Steve seems utterly satisfied, smug even. Danny notices Steve's faintly colored cheeks.

He has tried to keep the love at bay. The crazy beast of feelings is toying with him, tugging at the golden rope wound around his heart. But he can't hold it and he doesn't want to. The way Steve stands there, watching children playing, having a hawk-eye on Grace, makes it impossible for Danny to hold on to the rope that keeps the insane sensation in his heart controlled. He lets the leash go and stands his ground when the wave of feelings rushes through his body.

This guy is going to be the death of him. Danny's cell rings again. This time it's Stan. "Hi, Stan. Yeah, she's fine. Where are you? Give me a second. I'll meet you at the entrance. Yes, she asked me to make sure you'll find her." Danny's eyes search for Grace.

"Danny, it's fine. I'll take care of her. Go, go be with Stan. We'll wait for you right here, okay?" Steve squeezes Danny's shoulder with his large hand.

"You don't mind? You'll keep her safe?" Danny asks hesitantly. He never lets a stranger look after Grace. But Steve, Steve's different.

"Danny, I'll take care of her as if she's my daughter." This time, Steve blushes bright red but he doesn't correct himself. "I'm good at keeping people safe, especially your daughter. Go, Grace is safe with me."

Danny exhales and covers Steve's hand on his shoulder shortly with his own. He swallows. This man, God, he can totally feel the softness of Steve's lips pressed to his just by looking at his mouth. The bottom of his stomach drops out. Danny forces his eyes to stay above Steve's nose, but he gets distracted by the longest lashes he has ever seen on a guy. Steve waits for reassurance. Danny forces his eyes to focus. "Yeah, good. Thank you, Steve. I mean it. I'm back in a flash."

Danny still sees Steve's smile after he reunited Stan with Rachel and made sure they were good. He hurries back to the playground on the other side of the street. But –

He doesn't see Steve. Where the hell is he?

Danny runs faster. And where the hell is Grace?

For a split second, Danny's heart races and his muscles tremble faintly under the strain of too much tension. And then, he hears the lighthearted giggle from his little girl. He jogs over to where the sound comes from. He can't believe his eyes. This tough, combat-hardened SEAL sits on a seesaw with a bright grin on his face. Grace is safely tucked in between the handlebar and Steve's strong arms. He boxes her in to keep her safe. On the other side of the seesaw, three kids shout and laugh simultaneously. They try to fight the weight, to make the seesaw move.

Danny bites the thick rope of emotions back that tries to strangle his throat.

"Danno!" Grace screams and giggles with her head thrown back. She laughs at Steve and Steve looks down at her and answers her laugh with an even brighter grin.

No one ever has told Danny that happiness can be as sharp as a spear. The detonation of feelings almost has him bend over. "Monkey!" He waves and jogs closer. "What are you guys doing?"

Steve whispers something in her ear. "Winning!" His little girl screams on the top of her small lungs. The kids on the other side shout something back.

When they are safely back on the ground Grace throws herself into Danny's arms. "Danno, that was great! Steve is fun! We won!" She clings to him.

Danny hugs her extra tightly. He follows Steve's stance and the way his eyes search his, not letting go until he stands right next to Danny.

"Thank you," Danny whispers.

"You're welcome, Danno." Steve has a way to roll the letters on his tongue that makes Danny want to bury his face in the curve of Steve's shoulder.

Danny puts Grace down and keeps an eye on Steve. "Danno is –" he downplays how much Steve makes him want to reinvent the world. He can't let Steve have that name in his mouth. He can't. "Danno is Grace's endearment for me. I – You can't, it's –"

"I told Steve he could use it, too. He asked me." Grace grabs Danny's fingers and pulls him forward.

Danny blinks. How long has he been away? Two days? "How much have you guys talked? I haven't been away that long!"

Steve shrugs.

"I'm hungry, Danno. Can we go now? Steve said we're going to see a friend. He has shaved ice and French fries."

Danny gawps as Steve. Steve stuffs his hands down the front pockets of his cargos. He looks only half-guilty. "I told her Kame has also lots of different salads and shrimps. And that her daddy knows what she likes for lunch."

"Good choice of words. Good choice." Danny furrows his brows and almost drowns in Steve's gaze. "Yeah, let's head to Kame's. I don't have a car. My HPD partner drove me."

"If that's the only thing that's holding us back, then – we're good." Steve jingles with the car keys. "My truck is over there. Let's go."

Danny has no memory of how they've ended up talking about dolphins. The air is saturated with a heavy scent of wind and sea and a wild beauty Danny has never sensed before. Grace cheerfully answers Steve's questions about the animals she loves the most. Sometimes she also screams their names. "I love fishes! I love dolphins!"

"Baby, tone it down. My ears ring when you shout like that. Dolphins aren't fish, Monkey. They belong to the mammals. They breathe air just like you." He twists on his seat to wink at his baby girl.

She's tiny with the seatbelt across her small chest. The black back seat almost swallows her up. It's huge. Steve's truck is huge and everything in it. She bends her knees and tucks them to her chest. She smiles one of her staggering happy smiles. "I love mamas!" She shouts and giggles at the same time.

"Mammals. A difficult word but you're doing great." Danny's mood is dangerously close to soaring high. It's somewhere up in the stratosphere where rainbows get born and where space waste gets burned when entering the earth's atmosphere. But he couldn't care less.

Steve wears a small smile that makes him glow. Danny looks out of the window. His eyes would have betrayed him under one second flat. He inhales deeply to wallow in the scent of Steve's skin and the way his detergent wafts over to him, tickling his nose and making his heart ache.

"You love dolphins, Grace?"

"YES!" She yells.

"It's time we get some food into you, Grace-face. Look we're here!" Danny unbuckles the seatbelt and pushed the door open. Kame's place is busy with lunch guests. "Hey, Steve! Look! Isn't that Mary and Kawika over there? Whoa, Kono and Chin are also here. Kame's having the time of the day with all the money his getting out of us."

Steve jumps out of the car to scowl over where a bunch of people sit and talk. Danny touches his arm after he helped Grace out of the car. "Steve, you okay?"

"I – Mary's here. She should be lying in bed with her feet on a pillow not moving an inch until the baby's born. What is she doing here?"

"Come on, let's find out. And Steve, before you throw Mary in the back of your truck to drive her home, let Kawika handle it."

"I wouldn't do that!" Steve blurts.

"Maybe you believe that but the way you stare over at her I fear for her lunch. Go easy on her. She's fine Steve. Pregnant women gotta eat."

They get greeted with loud cheering. Kame is serving the first round. "Look what the cat dragged in. Danny with his little girl. It's time you bring her around. Sit down, pua li'ili'i. You hungry?"

Danny places Grace next to Kono. Too many people make her go all quiet and shy. Steve greets the bunch like they're old friends. Kono fires a gazillion questions at Danny only with her eyes. He just ignores her with an elegant move. "Mary, how are you. Is everything okay? Steve was a bit shocked to see you here. He's afraid you might overdo it again."

Mary wipes at her mouth with a napkin. "My brother," she makes sure Steve hears her, "thinks every time I get up our sweet little flower slips out as if I have any intentions to give birth standing upright." She laughs and Kawika pulls her protectively against his side.

"Go easy on him, darling." Danny hears Kawika whisper.

Steve glares at Mary and steals a shrimp off her plate. "Look at your belly. It's so big. You're ripe like an apple. Let me worry okay?"

"Punk, relax. I'm fine. I was hungry. After lunch, Kawika takes me home. Happy?"

Steve takes her hand and has her look at him. "I'll drop by to check up on you."

"I love you, Punk," Mary whispers. "Thank you."

Steve thins his lips. He gifts her with a small smile but doesn't say it back. He takes the seat across Danny and gets involved in a conversation with Chin.

Danny plops down on the bench. "Do you know each other?" He asked dumfounded over to where Steve catches up with Kono, Chin, and Kawika. Kono gifts him with a stupid face and completely slack-jawed.

"You're kidding, right, Danny?"

"No, I'm not. I – I haven't expected you to know each other is all."

"Kukui High, football, quarterback. Freaking Hawai'i, surfing. Brah, of course, we know each other. We hung out together at the beach. We all grew up in Hawai'i. Steve's ohana. He's gone to save the world and now he's back. We all make sure he's fine, getting along with life and all, you know." Kono slaps his back. "Dude, you didn't know that?"

Danny wants to scream. He wants to go for a walk. "How the hell would I know that? I'm the new guy, remember? You have never even mentioned anything about knowing a Steve!" He cuts Grace's shrimps in small pieces to distract him from this unveiling. He can't look in Steve's direction when he sees Steve matching names and events together.

"Danny's your partner?" Steve asks Kono with so much disbelief in his voice it's comical. "He's the haole you talked about?" Okay, that high-pitched voice is a bit unsexy.

After that Danny's memories are blurry.

He remembers a lot of laughter, especially Steve's low, rare carefree rumble. At one point, Kono punches Danny hard and makes faces at him. She points out how he hasn't checked his phone a single time since they've sat down. That got her thinking. She's about the figure out who he might have a secret crush on. Danny kicks her shin and pinches her thigh to shut her up. Kono gives him the stink-eye.

Danny stirs the attention immediately away from Kono with her razor-sharp mind. He calls over to Mary. He asks her if she could be a bit more specific about the details Steve has told her about him. Because that's what she said when they met at the hospital. Strangely enough, Steve chooses that moment to get seconds from Kame's hit of the day. The chatter dies as if well-orchestrated. All eyes are on Steve's sister.

"You have to know one thing, Danny. I talk Steve."

Danny forces himself not to cast a look over to where Steve chats with Kame. "That's a language?"

"Yeah, actually it is. And we all talk Steve. It's – it's a thing. When our mom died and when our dad got lost for some time someone needed to take care of Steve. We all did but I'm his sister. So, he doesn't say much and it's up to us to decipher what is hidden beneath the words he utters. We had a game going as teenagers. He never liked it when we did that. Steve doesn't do emotion; at least not the same way we handle them."

Danny eats. He's not hungry and he's not sure if his body is able to fight the tightness in his throat. He swallows and pretends his skin isn't on fire. "So, okay, what did Steve say that made you recognize me at the hospital?"

Mary's face morphs into a seriousness Danny wouldn't have thought possible. She looks as if she carries wisdom you only gain when of old age. She's calm when she answers his question. "Steve said just two words after a fruitless conversation to get more out of him. He said, 'he stayed' besides that, you're blond and asked all the right questions."

Rachel is downstairs resting from the day's treatment. Stan prepares a simple dinner in the kitchen. Danny tucks Grace in. It has been an adventurous day and Grace is tired. Danny reads to her from her favorite book, but she almost falls asleep. He puts the book aside.

"Did you have a good day, Monkey?"

"Mm-hmm. It was fun. Steve is fun."

"Yeah, he is."

"I asked Kono to take me surfing. Steve surfs too. He said he could teach me, too."

"Grace, baby, we've talked about this. It's still too early. Next year, okay?"

Grace plays with the bed cover before she whispers. "Steve has dolphins and he said he makes me see them."

Danny sits up. He doesn't lose his smile on his face. "He has dolphins. Really? Where?"

"He said, at the beach, where he lives. Danno, dolphins! Can we go see them? I want to go. Steve said we can come anytime." Grace glows and looks so hopefully at him. He knows how much she loves dolphins. "We can go tomorrow. Please, Danno, please." She whines, too exhausted and too hyper about the fact that Steve got miraculously some dolphins somewhere at his house.

"Let me talk to him, first, okay? And then we can go see them. But you might haven't heard it right, Monkey. Are you sure he said there are dolphins at the beach?"

Grace nods enthusiastically. "At the beach, Steve's beach. But we have to paddle out, to see them. He said he's going to show me. Can I go? Please, Danno." She begs.

Danny kisses her forehead and whispers in her ear, "of course, Monkey. We'll go visit Steve and he's going to show you the dolphins."

Back at home, Danny's finally alone with his thought. He can't stand that Steve told, promised even, his little girl dolphins. Real dolphins, the wild ones in the sea. No one promises a child something without keeping it. Danny doesn't know how he feels. Steve should have asked him. He should have consulted him. Danny can't stand the picture of his little girl far out on a paddleboard on the ocean. Not even a boat. Nothing, his girl has nothing lost on the ocean. Not yet, too dangerous.

Danny types already the words to send Steve a text. He's agitated and paces the small space in his apartment. He's also angry. What was Steve thinking to make such a promise?

Danny deletes the written text. He grabs his keys from the kitchen table instead and storms outside. He peels off the parking lot and heads towards Steve's place in the jungle. He needs to ask him in person what the hell he was thinking. Who has freaking dolphins at the beach at home?

Danny's headlights lighten the dark street on the freeway. It's late. The first drop of rain hits the windshield when Danny makes the turn to drive up the dirt road to Steve's place.

TBC

Also on AO3

[queensdivas]

Hidden Blade Chapter 2

Did this all on a plane and a little bit today! Now that I’m done I plan on working on even more shit. Like my god has this winter break been busy af. But I hope you enjoy the new chapter because it was a little longer than I wanted it to be. 

Whoops. 

IF you would like to be tagged please let me know!

Next Chapter

Previous Chap

Masterlist 

Have you actually ever watched an episode of Leave it to Beaver? What even is that show? I get watching like Little House on the Prairie, M*A*S*H (God I love Mash) and even I Love Lucy. But it feels like this dude one loves his family shows. Don’t really see why but who the heck else knows in this crazy world. 

I walked into one of the trailers to see a very large English Mastiff come from around one of the shelves to start sniffing me. Slobbering all over my legs since wearing shorts instead of jeans or some sort of Eddie Bauer travel pants. 

“That’s Wally. Careful his slobber goes everywhere.” Four was flipping through a pile of passports as I looked at the wall that was covered with pictures, news articles, and maps. It kind of reminds you of that meme where the dude looks completely insane while trying to explain something. I sat down on one of the desk chairs that was empty as I noticed Leave it to Beaver was playing. 

“Did he get you hooked into it as well?” I leaned back as I noticed a large file that had Murat Alimov with a big red CIA stamp on it. Juicy! 

“So how come the people of Turgistan hasn’t revolted against the dick hole in charge?” Four asked as I opened the file to see his picture. 

“They need someone to get behind in order to start the revolution. Ya know. Someone to get behind. The French got behind Maximilien Robespierre, the people in South America had Simon Bolivar, and the list goes on and on. So without someone to properly lead them, what’s the point of starting a revolution when you don’t have someone to lead.” I began skimming through his file to see that THE STUPID AMERICANS GAVE HIM BACK TO HIS BROTHER!? Never let them do anything!!

“So how did one find you?” He asked as I closed the file then threw it on the desk. 

“Ummmm. God it was really weird and very ummm..perfect timing I should say.” Wally came over to put his head on my thighs as I began scratching the top of his head. 

“I travelled to Ahmedabad after the Assassination in South Sudan where I planned on shutting down a board of nasty men who were shipping child brides all over the world. Yet something that I have a nasty habit of is trying to put on shoes way bigger than mine!” 

8 

“ALI RUN YOUR ASS!” Screaming as I turned the corner that was leading towards the great hall of the palace. Ali came behind as guns began shooting at us from the top of the stairs. The front doors burst open as I darted to the left. 

Ali followed swiftly behind me as we slid into one of the living rooms to duck behind a couch. I released my mag to see I had eight rounds left, and we have to battle an entire palace full of guards! At Least the board is dead so that stops this nasty shit in this house!

“Ali! There’s a drop through the dining room that leads into the river!” I yelled over the gunfire as he checked his mag to count his bullets. 

“I got six! I’ll keep you covered!” He popped his head up to shoot one of them coming into the room. I popped up to shoot another guard as more came through the front door. God damn it we’re screwed! 

“You get your ass out of here now!” Ali screamed as I crawled over to where he was bunkered down and handed him the rest of my mags. 

“You follow me alright!” Grabbing a bottle of scotch then ripping apart of the sofa for the rag. I stuffed it, shook the bottle then pulled my lighter out of my pocket. I lit it then chucked it over to the middle of the great hall. 

“GO GO GO!” I yelled as we got up from behind the couch towards the window. He smashed the glass as I stuck my head out to see the drop. Jesus Christ that’s a little too high. Fuck fuck!

I climbed up onto the window ledge as I was about to jump as Ali began climbing up but was stabbed in his back. 

“SHIT ALI!” With his last bit of energy he pushed me off the ledge.

Sitting in my apartment as I stared at the picture of Ali and I during our weekend trip to El Arish. The one time I think it;s okay to work with a partner we end up becoming best friends and he gets stabbed in the back! Don’t worry I’m not one of those people who are like “I work alone since everyone I’ve loved has died!” Usually it’s too much work to have a partner or some sort of companion when it comes to this kind of work. 

Someone lightly knocked on my door as I pulled out my dagger to slowly approach the door. Fuck fuck who knows I live here? Looking through the peephole to see some GAP looking guy standing right infront of the door. Swinging the door open as it scared him a little bit till he held up his arms towards me. 

“Relax Machete. If I wanted to hurt you I wouldn’t have knocked on your door would I?” That’s what most people thought in the seventies and look how many people died because they thought this was...as I opened the door for this stranger.  

“I promise I’m not here to hurt you or anything. May I come in?” I can handle myself I think so if he tries something I’ll kick his ass. I lowered my dagger a little bit to move out of the way for him. He came into my apartment to look around in my little hole in the wall. 

“Cozy.” I followed him on the other side of the room. 

“Good idea. Keeping a safe distance from me. Which is why I’ve been looking at your field work. What you did in South Sudan and recently in Jordan. Quite impressed that they haven’t tracked you down yet.” He stared at the large replica painting of The Virgin on the rocks. 

“Love some Da Vinci paintings.” He acts like a much calmer Deadpool, also not as sarcastic as him. 

“So. Who are you? A rich person looking for security, I’m not a hitman so I’m not going to kill someone for ya. Drink?” I made it to the liquor shelf as I grabbed the bottle of Shieldaig Speyside. 

“No thank you.” He walked away from the painting then over to my original Pierre Mignard. See when you shut down a nasty group of people, I wanted this picture of some random women. I stood away from him still as he turned around, I took a sip of the drink as I waited for him to explain himself. 

“I get the feeling you enjoy killing those who want to cause harm onto the innocent. You wanna know what I see in you? I see someone who's willing to do some crazy shit in order to save the world. I mean you just jumped out of palace after destroying a child marriage cult. What if I could give you an endless amount of resources, even more targets, and more hands?” Definitely some better resources would be nice. But there is always some sort of catch in this situation. 

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for. Someone who isn’t afraid to truly get their hands dirty to save the world.” I do enjoy saving little parts of the world. 

“Now imagine taking down even bigger ass holes of the world.” Am I finally going after all of North Korea? God I really wanna destroy that pig with all my mighty! 

“So what’s the catch exactly?”

“You’ll be dead and can’t ever see your loved ones again.” Well jokes on this dude, haven’t seen my family in years and they probably thought I was dead anyhow so this works perfectly! 

“I’m in. Don’t worry about my family because they think I’m dead anyhow.” I walked over to him to shake his hand. 

“How the fuck he found you is still bizarre. Still have no idea how he found me in the middle of a robbery.” Wally began walking away as I put my feet on the desk. Now I’m super curious how he met the rest of them now since he ended up stalking me. 

“How did he find you?”

He began telling me how the robbery he was apart of turned into a shit hole of a plan for his ex girlfriend to basically take the jewels instead of saving him. Doesn’t surprise me in the slightest because hoes be loyal. His eyes...are just so damn enticing. The way the sun brightens them reminds you the top of a forest. A very endless forest before you. That little scar next to his eye is just very nice to look at as well. Kind of weird but I enjoy it. Does he have knuckle tattoos? (For the record I am listening, it’s called multitasking.) 

“Jesus he set you in a saw trap?” He reached into the mini fridge for two bottles of water since the sun was warming up the trailer like a sauna at this point. 

“Yet here you are getting a calm welcome when I thought the guy was going to blow off my fucking face.” He slid the water across the desk as I cracked it open. Wally and his drool began sniffing the water bottle as I tried to drink it. 

“But he did save my life after the fall so that’s the only good thing that happened that day.” He chugged some of his water as I nodded in agreement. 

“Wally. Wanna get my soldiers out and have a battle.” Beaver asked Wally as The next episode of leave it to beaver began playing so I turned my focus towards the tv. 

“Nah.” Wally told Beaver. Four turned up the TV as I noticed a box of Cheez-its next to the desk. I’ve heard these things very good for most American snack food.

“Four we’ve scored!” I yelled as I began opening the box of Cheez-its. Back to the show. We watched as Wally and his friends were tackling each other with Beaver stuck underneath them all.

“Poor Beaver. Such a sweet little kid.” I stuffed a bunch of cheez-its in my mouth then passed four the box. 

“One is completely obsessed with this show, he makes all these references for it all the time. I think he’s an orphan actually, we got a little bet on it if you wanna put some money in.” Now that I think about it, I can totally see one being some sort of orphan or in the system. 

“Forty dollars.” I reached in my pocket to pull out my wallet, grabbing a couple of fives handing it to him. I know we should be working on finding his brother, or doing some sort of work but this is much more fun. 

“Wait they’re gonna charge Beaver three dollars just to join their club? I get that hanging out with little siblings can always be some sort of bother but wow what ass holes. Imagine being that cruel.” I commented as I threw a Cheez-it at Wally's friends after the tv. 

“Man. A time when your six year old son could talk to a random stranger asking on how to make money.” Four and I chuckled as Beaver came walking out of the garage with his “this space for rent sign” on him. I mean he’s trying harder than most people in this world so I have to give him credit where it’s due. 

“You two done? C’mon. Three thinks he onto something.” Five stuck her head into the trailer as Wally walked away from me as he kept to box of cheez-its with him. 

We walked into the trailer as three was listening very closely to a phone conversation as one and seven were talking to each other. I get the feeling that shit is about to go down if three finds the location of the four generals. 

“His top General knows the location of him so once they leave Turgistan for something, we go after them and figure out where the brother is.” One told seven as I began looking at the four pictures of the fuckers themselves. 

“You ever met people like them?” One asked as I kept staring at their pictures. Four handed me a box of Cheez-its. 

“I mean all monsters of humanity are usually either fat, old, or a man. Hell even all three for some massive destruction if history says anything. Or they have weird facial hair like Stalin or Hitler. Except for Elizabeth Bathory because that bitch was truly...

“Guys. Shut the fuck up.” Three barked as his face went from focused to ecstatic in a matter of seconds. 

“AH we’re going to Vegas baby!” Three laughed as he put their conversation on speaker. 

“This arms dealer will be meeting you at the speedway track around two for the deal.” God this is disgusting. Instead of trying to make our country a better place, go to Vegas to fuck some slut, spend your money, and to add on top of that get some dangerous chemicals so we can kill more people. Love it! 

“Las Vegas has more facial recognition software than any place on Earth.” One began telling two and three as I began turning down the volume of their conversations. 

“Oh I know what I’m gonna be!” Get this sinking feeling he loves dressing up. 

“Choose your disguises wisely.” Disguises? I have to dress up? If they think I’m going to wear a pencil dress, twelve inch heels, and a face full of makeup I will leave right now! 

“I’m a grown man, I can handle my shit.” 

“I don’t think that’s how the expression goes, don’t handle your shit. Flush it down the toilet like a grown-ass man. Be subtle. Blend in. Disappear. Me, two, and three are going to figure out where on earth they’re hiding his brother. Eight and four I want you two to intercept the gas, destroy it all, find the supplier and eliminate him. Sounds easy enough?” Yes. Going into Las Vegas, finding a bunch of illegal gas, destroy it, and be home by five. Definitely easy. 

“Just one question. How do you even destroy Sarin gas? Look I’m a pretty smart lady but destroying gas is something I’ve yet to achieve in my life one.” 

“Here. Study this before we leave for Vegas. Ya got 24 hours to nail it.” He slid a book across the table. 

How to Disable Sarin Gas Bombs for Dummies. 

Written by a Genius.

Handwritten and in a bright green binder. Glad to know we make handcrafted things in this squad. I opened the binder as it showed a step by step on how to disarm them. Kind of like when you’re building a lego set. Except instead of joy you get when you’re trying to build a spaceship, you end up pissing your pants because one fatal mistake and we die! 

“Love the homemade touch one. Very professional and doesn’t make me want to shit my pants in absolute fear.” I picked it up as we began dispersing.

“I’m just gonna take this with us. Rather us not die.” Telling four as I handed him the binder for him to start skimming through the binder. Gotta love the fact that my first mission with these guys is disarming a bunch of chemical bombs. Getting that sinking feeling again that they’re a bunch of chaotic people doing chaotic things. 

It’s absolutely perfect.

Taglist: 

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland @takemetoneverland420​ @raylan-c​ @itsmeaudrieee​ @leah-halliwell92​

[queerchoicesblog]

Like Snow (Edge of Extinction, Grace x MC x Anna)

So, here's the fanfic I promised. Warning: it's kinda sad but if you're playing the book it doesn't exactly strike as happy sunshine, right?

I wrote it portraying the POV of the three women (Grace, F!MC Ellen and Anna) so yeah, it's like having 3 fanfics in one xD It takes place immediately after the latest episode and shows how the relationships/bonds evolve between the three women. It's non-canon obviously so feel free to disagree. Hope you enjoy it though!

Disclaimer: all the characters do not belong to me, they're borrowed from @playstoryscape game as well as a few lines of the original book.

Moreover, this fanfic is influenced by my playthrough where Pavel dies in the rescue of the hermit and F!MC gets the new outfit triggering the scene with Grace. There are also references to death, alcohol consumption, grieving and (internalized-ish) homophobia: if you're not comfortable with these issues, please consider skipping this.

Word Count: 2500+

Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive @aestheticsayeed @ghost-of-yuri @andi-the-cat (not sure your yes meant add me so feel free to ignore it in case you're not interested xD) @animus-and-anima

_____________________________

Grace POV

There she is!

The ex-military took a sigh of relief as she spotted Ellen on the other side of the church. She didn't tell anyone where she was heading and an uncomfortable feeling of concern took hold of Grace even if she kept herself busy with chores and checking in on Mari, baby Pavel and everyone else. Now that Ellen was here though it was as if a huge burden was lifted off her chest: too many things went wrong out there not to worry when someone left their sanctuary. Not to make a habit to brace yourself for the worst even after the hermit was successfully cured and part of the crew.

When she was a few steps away, Grace leaned over a pile of boxes and took in Ellen's figure. The Doctor was checking herself in a crooked mirror they found in an abandoned clothes shop in Tromstad. Fine new black boots, jeans that fit perfectly enhancing every curve, well every curve that survived the malnourishment they all experienced. A white top under a gorgeous leather jacket that made her look radiant and tough. Grace found herself staring a bit longer than she probably should have and for once, for so long after all the tragedies that haunted the group of survivors...for the first time after her husband passed away a life ago, she decided not to predict herself for that.

Instead, she allowed herself to break into a grin as she wondered whether she chose those clothes accidentally or because they reminded her of the outfits she used to wear before the world they knew was torn asunder. When they were strangers living miles and miles away and most likely would have never met if it wasn't for that tragedy. A sudden thought made the soldier smile, almost blush: yet if by chance she had walked past her in the street or crossed her path wearing those clothes, she would have made her turn her head to follow such a vision.

"I like the new looks. It suits you" she said after a moment, hoping not to scare the doctor.

Ellen froze for a moment then spun towards her. The look on her face was a bit confused and wary: she wasn't expecting such a comment from Grace or she had no idea how to take that. Luckily, it soon softened into slight amusement as she relaxed. To prove that she meant no harm, Grace crossed her arms and playfully raised an eyebrow, breaking her usual military demeanor: a look not many got to see.

Apparently, Ellen noticed as there was a hint of tease in her voice when she answered:

"Thanks. I...guess I clean up pretty well"

Understatement of the century, Grace noted in her head but Ellen was now looking at her with curiosity, surely trying to figure out what were the soldier's true intentions as she wasn't known for outstanding bonding skills nor frivolous conversation. Realizing that she needed to provide some sort of explanation for such an off character behavior, she cleared her throat and gave a quick smile.

"Noticed you'd wandered off, so I came to check on you. Didn't mean to intrude"

The Doctor looked a bit surprised but was quick to conceal it. She just shrugged and smiled back, gesturing that there was no need for apologies. 

Grace gave a polite nod, ready to shift back into her military demeanor...but for some reason she failed. Instead of walking away as she knew she should have done or Ellen probably expected her to do as she was already turning to gather her old clothes scattered on a chair, Grace spoke again. The words that kept haunting her for days dropped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"I don't know how it's all going to play out when we get there, but I know one thing: we never would have made this far without you"

Ellen froze for a moment then turned: surprise was written all over her face. Grace sighed and continued.

"I wanted you to know we're all grateful. Everyone knows how much the group needs you"

She buried the most compromising part, grateful to her military training that thought her to say less "I" and more "we", the crew, the group when speaking to others. So she hid behind a grateful smile how much she, Grace, the woman underneath the army fatigues she was still wearing needed her, Ellen, the foolish, heroic woman with a medical degree.

"I'd say the same about you" 

Of course Ellen wouldn't just accept a compliment: Grace should have known that the resident proved herself to be generous and selfless enough to give it back and appraise her leadership. Typical Ellen, she thought, unable to prevent herself from smiling. 

"I know nothing is guaranteed" she added after much internal debate whether to keep the conversation going or retreat before it was too late: feelings are a minefield. "But the future doesn't seem hopeless anymore. A lot of that is because of you and everything you've done"

Yeah, that was a nice way to put it down into words. With a bit of luck, Ellen wouldn't have grasped the hidden layer of meaning of it: Grace had been so secretive and distant, how could she suspect that she had been a light in the dark in so many ways?

F!MC POV

The cold breeze of the night welcomed Ellen as she stepped out of the church. She wrapped her wool scarf around her and took a deep breath. She needed a break: she wasn't able to get back to sleep last night after seeing Anna hurting so bad...but the woman she kissed what sounded like in another life only pushed her away. Again. As her wobbly figure disappeared out of view she laid back in her tent but she had no luck getting back to the safe faraway of dreams. The day kept her busy and the group kept her busy: no new threat was in sight but there was so much to do to properly prepare everyone for the trip. But now she had nothing to keep her from reminiscing Anna's hurtful drunken words.

"Maybe I was wrong to leave Pavel for you. Maybe all of this started because I was unfaithful to him"

"I love you. I just..."

"I know I've made things hard on you lately. But I just keep thinking about Pavel"

Same old story just with a touch of tragedy this time. "I love you but": God knew if it hadn't been a pattern for Ellen. She couldn't count the times she heard this. But now it was the woman, unhappy former athlete who just started to shine again until shit happened and Ellen failed. Devastating despair was in Anna bright eyes as she cradled Pavel's lifeless body and begged her to do something. Ellen was a doctor, right? She could certainly do something to save him. But no, Ellen couldn't. It was too late for that, she could only bury the hatchet and whisper a dying man a comforting lie not even him believe to. 

Anna never met her gaze again that day and the day after, shuttering herself in mourning isolation. She had never been the same since that day and the accidental meeting they had last night confirmed it. As much as it hurt, now there was only Pavel and her self-guilt in Anna's mind: no more room for Ellen. The doctor found herself wondering if deep down Anna was angry at her for being so helpless and...unhelpful the day Pavel was shot. 

"Long time no see" 

A familiar voice brought her back to the real world. It startled Ellen a little before she turned to see Grace giving her a friendly nod from the wall she was sitting on, her rifle at her side.

Ellen was so grateful. It was good not to be alone with her own thoughts on a night like that. She returned the nod and smiled to herself: who better than an ex-military to be her knight in shining armor?

"Did I spook you?" Grace inquired as she moved a bit closer.

"Nah, of course not" Ellen shook her head, hoping to be convincing.

"You sure?"

"Positive, ma'am" Ellen sighed, mocking a salute that she could have sworn made Grace chuckle. "Are you on sentry duty?"

"Yes" the soldier confirmed. "I think we're safe now but lowering our guard now would be inconsiderate. Especially now that Mari gave birth to a baby..."

"Yes, I just checked on them. The little boy is fine and heavenly resting in his mom's arms. Stig is with them now"

For a moment Ellen was jealous of Mari's baby, safe in loving arms and untouched by the dire situation humanity was facing. Just a hopeful little boy offering smiles to everyone. 

As realization hit her, she pushed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and exhaled loudly as if to get rid of her own sadness: Grace had too much to keep in check as their leader to be given such an additional burden.

"Anyway...I'll get out of your hair, you're on duty and-"

"You can stay if you want" Grace anticipated her, offering a quick smile.

"-I don't want to bother you"

"I'm a woman, I can multitask pretty well" she commented, teasingly raising an eyebrow.

For some reason, Ellen found the playful gesture seductive and she had to refrain herself from biting her lip when Grace scooped over and patted the seat beside her on the bench. 

"Here, join me, Doc"

"You know it's Ellen for you" she said, obliging and taking a seat too.

"My my, when did we become so casual?"

It surprised Ellen to still hear a hint of tease in her voice: Grace was definitely showing a whole new side that day.

"Why, you're really gonna call me Doc, lieutenant?"

"Hey, for your information I am a Captain, not a lieutenant"

"I'm terribly sorry, apologies, ma'am"

The two of them shared a look and chuckled but it was soon clear that the moment was gone. Silence settled back between the two women and Grace resumed her sentry duty. However, she was the first to speak again after some time.

"Hey I...I hope I'm not overstepping but are you okay?"

"As okay as I can be, Captain" Ellen shrugged. "I'm just...concerned about Anna"

Grace nodded, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Yes, you mentioned that. I promise I will check on her in the morning and talk to her. But-" she took a pause. "I'm sorry, I know you two are...close"

"Were, were close I guess" the doctor corrected her, grimacing. "I appreciate your concern, Grace, but no need to worry about me. I'm used to this, to unhappy endings"

The Captain furrowed her brows and did her best not to betray too much sympathetic curiosity when she inquired:

"Did you lose a dear one too?" 

Ellen shrugged and shifted to sit more comfortably. Then she winced and sighed deeply, enhancing a puff of air.

"Not exactly. I just never was the one women would take a chance on"

Grace shifted to face her.

"What do you mean?"

Ellen met her gaze and gave her a bitter smile. 

"I don't have the best record when it comes to relationships. Sure, the medical residency kept me busy enough but even aside from that I guess I'm not 'a keeper'" she shrugged her shoulder and looked into the distance. "Good for a one night stand or a flirt but not for more. The 'love at first sight' in a drunken gay bar night to ghost once you go back to your real life. A girl I had some kind of story with, the no-strings-attached type, dumped me when I asked to go steady then dropped to one knee and proposed to her new partner or so I heard. Last time I checked, they lived in a villa downtown with two Labradors."

Bad idea to go there: reminiscing Tiffany hurt even if the scar she left was quite healed. But Ellen fell hard for that girl, she saw a future with that girl...unlike Tiffany. The upset look on her face when Ellen asked her to be her girlfriend and the smile she had showing an engagement ring to the camera on the social media feed was still like a punch in the stomach. Especially now.

"Once I even got involved with a colleague at the hospital. It ended badly cause well I didn't know she was married" Ellen inhaled sharply and continued. "I-I suppose it's kind of a pattern to me"

Grace looked back to her and the two of them shared a long pained gaze.

Anna POV

Oy Moroz Moroz Oh moroz moroz ne moroz menya ne moroz menya

Usually, long walks never failed to clear Anna's mind and calm her. They always did, before any competition, whenever she was stressed or doubting herself. Now she felt no comfort: she was just walking in melting snow, swaying a bottle of vodka in her hands and singing in a low voice that Russian tune her father used to sing whenever he came home and had a bit too much on the way back. 

The demons that had been haunting her couldn't be pacified.

She shut her eyes as another vision appeared. She could have sworn that Pavel's ghost was near...or maybe she was just going insane for good. But she could feel his presence lingering, his voice encouraging her to toughen up, saying she was stronger than this and no matter how hard it looked now, she would have been victorious. 

Then she remembered that it was what he used to tell her before every competition so long time ago. He would place his hands on her shoulder and gave her pep talks that usually ended up like "Annushka, stop second-guessing yourself. Go out there and be like ice: strong and shiny in the spotlight cause you're the star. My star".

What he didn't mention is that ice can break too and that's exactly how Anna felt like now: shattered, crushed, in pieces.

Pasha...since that cursed day her days and nights had been a series of nightmares and hurtful visions. One moment she was dancing, gracefully flying in Pasha's arms at their wedding party, happy faces and smiles all around then out of the blue a dark bloodstain would spread on her husband's white shirt as all went dark and Pavel would fall on his knees and begged her to help him, desperately reaching for her.

Anna shook her head and took a long pull from her bottle. There was no way out of this pain, she thought as she kept walking back to the church. Why did Pasha have to change? She always knew he was a believer but lately, after the spread of the lethal virus he became obsessed with God and the book of Apocalypse. He started seeing signs of an approaching Doomsday everywhere and when they managed to survived he convinced himself that they were the Chosen ones, they had a mission and a duty to humanity...all that foolish religious rubbish pushed her away from him. He wasn't the man she married anymore.

Then she met the doctor. Ellen from America: kind, brave, compassionate and rational gorgeous Ellen. She had never questioned her sexuality before, was it even an option? Every woman she knew, family or friend, was happy or pretended to be happy with her husband cause "that's how things go, Anja", her mother cut every objection short once. So she obliged, married her sweetheart but years later from that the day she said yes to him on the altar things changed. He changed, she changed. And some invincible force waltzed her into the arms of a woman, an inconceivable thought till that very day. A bond against nature, an abomination for everyone she knew. 

But  Ellen's lips were so soft and her hold so comforting that for the first time in ages Anna felt safe.

And it was all gone now.

She had been avoiding Ellen ever since the day Pasha died. Too much pain to face her, when she bumped into her the previous night it was awful: the look of concern and love in her eyes made Anna bleed even more. 

Maybe Pavel was right after all. Maybe not about the hermit but about the God punishment talk she predicted him for. And Ellen: she surely wasn't a "witch" but could she deny she had been their downfall? All their issues skyrocketed since she first appeared out of nowhere, a daughter of the snowy Norwegian winter. She separated what God united, as preaches and her grandma would say, and what happened? People started dying, Pavel sank even deeper into his religious madness and eventually died. And Ellen was a doctor, funny enough. The moment she kept gravitating towards the gorgeous stranger, tragedies followed one after another. She accepted the love of the gorgeous woman and her husband got shot dead. Coincidences?

Anna hit her head with a fist as if to get rid of all that poisonous nonsense. No, Ellen told her that this was not what happened, just ghosts of her mind, her sense of guilt and grief speaking but she couldn't think straight anyway. Anymore. The succession of days felt like a hallucination and not even sleep could bring her peace, just the opposite. How can anyone preserve their sanity in a situation like this?

Maybe I should talk to Ellen, whenever I feel I can meet her eyes without crying like the weakling I am now, she considered as the familiar silhouette of the church appeared in sight. She's kind and she said she loves me. I gave her a hard time but maybe we can start over again. Maybe she can help.

She was almost there when she spotted two people sitting in the distance yet not too far to recognize them. She couldn't make out a word of what they were saying but they were certainly Ellen and Grace. 

Anna froze in place: lately, she hadn't been around much, mostly hiding in her tent or disappearing for walks and avoiding any kind of interaction with the rest of the group, but last time she checked the two women weren't that close. God, Grace hardly bonded with anyone, she was so busy being the leader and checking everything, organizing their daily routine in the midst of chaos and the journey to the Seed Vault...so how could she be holding Ellen's hand now? Her hand was holding the doctor's one - a hand who once held her close as Ellen's soft lips pressed a kiss on Anna's mouth- and she was saying something that apparently drew a shy smile on Ellen's face. What...what did she say? Why Ellen was smiling and squeezing her hand back? What...what did she miss out?

As the two women shared another smile and broke eye contact to look into the distance still holding hands, Anna stumbled to hide behind a solitary tree.

Even ice can break, she whispered as new tears welled her eyes. I was too slow, took too much time, never be slow Anna, never! Didn't your coaches tell you? Maybe I was so convincing when I begged her to leave me alone.

Tears found their way down her cheeks reddened by alcohol and the chilly gusts of wind that blew like a slap on her face.

Maybe our love was just like snow: beautiful and soft but it melts away when the spring sun starts shining again. Just like snow...  

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.4

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve frets over his growing interest Bucky and decides to take things to the ~next level~. Master list HERE.

Content Warning: Some truly fantastic blow jobs. Steve being neurotic about what this means for him.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! I’m really excited so many of you are enjoying this fic so far. I don’t know why, but I just got super invested in these characters from the start even though it’s one of my shorter fics. I was literally screeching to my best friend on daily basis while writing this LOL. So thank you for all the sweet feedback and likes and reblogs. Ya’ll make my day! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Four

They fell into a rhythm faster than either one had really expected. They text periodically throughout their days, just silly things they’d found or something about their day they wanted to laugh about or bemoan together. Thanks to Steve being able to adjust his schedule and Bucky working a basic 9-5, they were able to meet up on Friday nights for a date night and typically one other weeknight when they were both free. Sundays became their farmers market day, when they could wander around the busy market in the warm summer sun and drink entirely too many iced coffees. Despite the routine, labels were never used or brought up. Neither man quite sure how to define what they were doing. They were happy with their little routine, neither of them looking to shake things up, but there had been a few times where after weeks of second base, they both wondered when it might be time for more. Steve was terrified of finding his limit and wasn’t willing to risk what they had. Bucky was terrified of pushing Steve too fast and had bitten his tongue a few times when in the heat of the moment he had almost begged to taste Steve’s cock.

It had been over a month of swapping hand jobs and what Steve had learned was called frottage, thank you Google. Steve figured if he didn’t try to mix things up soon he’d never really know where his limit lied. And with how quickly his feelings for Bucky were developing he needed to start figuring things out fast. He was going to be in a world of pain if and when he reached the limit of what he was sexually interested in. Steve had been in rough shape when Peggy left him but the idea of leaving Bucky seemed a thousand times worse already.

Steve finally gathered the nerve to turn on his privacy mode search and look up tips on blow jobs. What he got was a horrific amount of bad porn and women's magazine articles. Most were absolute trash but he did find a few good tips. Though in the end, Steve figured he’d just have to assume what felt good being done to him would most likely feel good for Bucky. As long as he didn’t puke the second it was in his mouth, he was going to consider whatever happened progress. The idea didn’t seem too terrible in theory but Steve’s nerves were still running wild. 

They were curled up on Steve’s sofa, Bucky tracing the lines of Steve’s muscles along his chest and stomach. The movie had ended a few minutes before but neither man was willing to move just yet. Steve took a breath and decided it was do or die time. Bucky deserved someone who wasn’t trapped on second base forever. “Hey, Buck.” Steve said quietly, waiting for Bucky to look up at him, “Would it be okay if I sucked your dick? I think I could.” 

Bucky took a moment to replay Steve’s words in his head. Nope, still sounded the same. What in the actual fuck?! “Steve, honey, you don’t have to do that if you’re not ready.” Bucky assured him, “I’m so happy with you, with us. Don’t feel like you have to do this unless you really want to.” 

Steve sighed, half tempted to take the way out Bucky had offered him. “No, I want to. I do. I just… I’m worried. What happens if I don’t like doing it? If I can’t do it.”

“Then you can’t, Stevie. It’s not the end of the world. It’s not like I’d ever expect it from you. Hell, my ex probably only did it twice in the year we were together.” 

“What?” that caught Steve’s attention, “Why?” 

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Not all gay guys enjoy sucking cock. And Brock was an asshole, so who knows the real reason. I don’t really believe what he used to say. He, uh, he said a lot of things just to be hurtful.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Steve kissed Bucky softly, wondering how bad his ex really was. He never really talked about it and Steve worried it was worse than Bucky let on. “I do want to try it with you though. You don’t have to reciprocate or anything, I just need to know if I can do this. For me. I’m still trying to figure things out and I need to know.” 

“Okay, we can try. And for the record,” he added with a smirk, “I love giving head.” 

The sound Steve made at Bucky’s declaration was barely more than a high pitched whine and Bucky cackled like Satan himself with delight. 

“Come here you.” Steve cajoled him, pulling Bucky close to resume their kisses. Steve waited until Bucky was making the soft little moans he’d come to know so well. The sign that he was getting impatient and needy for Steve to get him off. Steve loved how easy it was to bring him to that point. Steve pulled back, giving Bucky’s still clothed dick a squeeze before he slipped down onto the floor between Bucky’s legs. Resting on his knees, he helped Bucky get his pants and underwear off, another pair of those silky boxers Bucky seemed to favor that made Steve want to rut up against the silky material like a madman. They had done that once a few weeks earlier. Steve had been completely naked and Bucky in only his silky boxers, they had rutted against one another through the fabric until both their orgasms had snuck up on them before they could help themselves. It had been a little embarrassing but mostly wonderful. 

Steve teased Bucky’s shaft a little, trying to work up his courage now that he was down there. Bucky’s hair was blessedly well trimmed and Steve realized he probably should have afforded the same courtesy for Bucky. He made a mental note to take care of that before the next time. If there would be a next time. A small bead of precome formed on the tip and Steve jumped on the opportunity. Leaning forward Steve lapped at the drip of liquid, waiting to see if he could get past the taste. He’d never minded going down on women but he worried a man would be just too different. To his surprise, it wasn’t awful. Not exactly something he would crave, but the bitter tang on his tongue was manageable. Encouraged, Steve braced his palms on Bucky’s hips and tentatively lowered his mouth around Bucky’s dick.

Bucky wanted to weep at the sight of Steve licking the little bead of precome off the tip of his cock. His beautiful blonde adonis settled so easily between his legs was a sight to behold. When Steve took the head into his mouth Bucky fought to stay still, letting Steve take his time and figure things out. Though much to his delight Steve figured it out pretty quickly. He barely got half the way down Bucky’s shaft with the first few eager bobs of his head but it was enough to have Bucky trembling beneath him. Steve looked up through his impossibly long lashes and Bucky about lost it. He threaded his fingers through Steve’s thick blonde hair, giving him a soft smile of adoration. Steve resumed his tentative sucking, testing how far down he could go comfortably, too afraid of gagging himself and ruining the moment. The more he bobbed the more confident he grew, carefully hollowing his cheeks to increase the suction around Bucky’s dick. He started lapping his tongue along the underside too, reveling in the way Bucky completely lost his composure when he did that. 

There was something powerful being able to bring Bucky to a babbling mess with a few swipes of his tongue. Giving head was nothing like Steve had feared it would be. It was better than he could have expected and he found that the things he’d always loved about going down on a woman, he loved about going down on Bucky. The trembling thighs bracketing his head, the deep earthy scent of being at someone’s core, the trust it took for someone to let him do this, even the way curly short hairs tickled his nose when he pressed in deep. Steve felt himself getting worked up as he continued and he reached down for a moment to push his growing erection down with the heel of his hand. He wondered briefly if maybe next time he could multitask enough to get himself off while going down on Bucky. Because there was damn well going to be a next time at this rate.

Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he’d wanted to as soon as Steve started experimenting with his tongue. He wanted to give Steve as much warning as he could but all that he could come up with was filthy praise. “God, Stevie,” he panted out, half delirious, “That’s so good, honey. God just like that, yeah. Oh god you’re so good at that. Driving me wild, honey.” 

Steve made a muffled happy noise at the praise and the vibrations in his throat went straight to Bucky’s dick. He keened, trying to hold back his eminent release. “Stevie.” he pleaded, “Stevie wait. I’m gonna. Shit honey, I can’t… I’m gonna.” 

Steve was undeterred knowing what was, quite literally, coming next. He took Bucky in as deep as he could, figuring that would be easiest, and gave one last burst of intense suction until Bucky was coming down his throat, hot and fast. It was startling but after he got past the initial shock it was over before he could really mind. Steve pulled back once Bucky finished, settling back to sit on his heels with a smug grin on his face. Bucky, on the other hand, looked positively wrecked. 

“Jesus God, honey.” Bucky finally rasped out in disbelief. “That was…” he shook his head, “That was perfection.” 

“I did okay?” Steve forced himself to ask, needing to ensure he really had done an at least passable job. He was still a little breathless, his dick half chubbed in his pants and growing as he took in Bucky’s post orgasmic glow. 

“Better than okay. You were amazing.” Bucky reached out and took both of Steve’s hands in his, needing to ensure he was alright.  “Are you okay though? Really? That wasn’t too much or anything? You really didn’t have to swallow.” 

“It was fine,” Steve answered truthfully, “I loved seeing you so blissed out like that, knowing I was the one making you feel that way. And swallowing was over before I could really process it, so no big deal.” 

“You are one in a fucking million, Steve Rogers.” Bucky shifted forward so he could kiss his man, so overwhelmed with affection for him. He pulled him up after a few heated kisses, wanting to feel those solid muscles crowding him in. Bucky raised an eyebrow as Steve leaned himself up and onto Bucky. “Um,” he tried not to chuckle, “It seems like someone really did enjoy himself.”

Steve blushed lightly, hiding his face in the curve of Bucky’s neck, “Mhm. I, uh, I enjoyed it quite a bit.” 

At that Bucky did let out a short cackle, raining kisses down on Steve’s blushing face, “You’re a fucking gem. God, I…” Bucky cut himself off with a sharp cough. “A real fucking gem, honey.” He added somewhat lamely.

Steve was oblivious to Bucky’s misstep, practically preening under the affection and praise, still teetering on the edge of full arousal. He would have been more than happy to continue skirting that edge, Bucky’s hand rubbing against him lightly while they necked like teenagers. But Bucky was not going to pass up the opportunity to get Steve’s cock in his mouth at last. He wasn’t exaggerating when he’d bragged he loved sucking cock. He truly did. Every part of it, too. And because of his enthusiasm he’d had plenty of practice over the years. Bucky was thankful for that practice, too, because even after the newness of Steve had started to wear off, he was still convinced Steve had the absolute most beautiful cock he’d ever seen. It was like going from the minors to the big leagues, he mused happily.

“Hey, honey.” he crooned in between kisses, “Can I return the favor?”

“Hm?” Steve murmured, confused.

“I’ve been dying to get your cock in my mouth for weeks. Please? Let me return the favor?” 

Steve’s choked off moan was answer enough but he forced out his words, “Yeah. God, yeah, Buck. But only if you want to.” 

“Oh I want to. Believe me. I’d have to be crazy not to want you.” 

Steve huffed a light laugh as Bucky drug the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs down, moving himself down the length of Steve’s body in the process. He was fully hard and the head slapped against the hard V shaped plane of his lower stomach, leaving a trail of precome where it landed. 

Bucky had his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock seconds after tossing his clothes to the side. He wasn’t about to waste any time and he wanted to make sure this was a blow job Steve would never forget. He pulled out all his best tricks, alternating suction and speed, letting his hands knead at Steve’s balls while his mouth deep throated him like a champ, even running his nails along Steve’s inner thighs while dragging just the slightest hint of bottom teeth along the underside of his cock. Steve was barely coherent after the last one and Bucky wondered if anyone had ever played with Steve’s ass before. His whole body shook fiercely when Bucky’s hands would glance over his taint and brush over the curve of his ass right behind it. Bucky was tempted, so tempted, and while he was still worried about freaking Steve out, if he played his cards right Steve was in for one hell of a treat.

Bucky started his exploration slow, keeping his mouth busy with a steady holding pattern of torture. Enough that Steve was still making those gorgeous little noises in the back of his throat, but not enough that he was in danger of coming. It gave him enough time to sneak his index finger along Steve’s taint and then slip between his ass cheeks for a quick flick.

Steve’s whole body jerked when the pad of Bucky’s finger ghosted over his surprisingly sensitive hole. It was unexpected but felt too good for him to object. Steve knew if he spoke up Bucky would stop, but in the heat of the moment he wanted to ride it out to see where things went. He trusted Bucky wouldn’t push him too hard too fast, so he just focused on trying to stay in his seat and not choking the poor beautiful man between his legs with an unintended thrust. 

Bucky wanted to cheer at Steve’s reaction and it emboldened him to keep exploring. He let the tip of his finger flutter against Steve’s hole as he continued to suck his shaft down as deep as he comfortably could. He cupped Steve’s balls with his other hand, adding that sensation to the mix as well with stellar results. 

“Shit,” Steve keened, “Buck, baby, shitshitshit. I’m gonna…”

Bucky just nodded as he bobbed his head, fully aware of where Steve was at and what he needed to do to take him over the edge. Pressing firmly with the tip of his finger he pushed ever so slightly into Steve’s hole, not enough to breach that tight ring of muscle inside but enough to be felt. Steve was writhing and then Bucky wiggled his finger, just gently, while hollowing out his cheeks and giving Steve’s balls a squeeze. 

Steve shattered. 

It was too much all at once and he came with a broken sob as his body shook almost violently. He had no control over his limbs or his voice as great sobbing moans broke free from his chest. His body trembled even after his orgasm began to fade and Bucky clamored up onto the sofa next to him. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve from the side, tugging him close and holding on to him tightly. It took a long minute for Steve to compose himself and for the world to really come back into to focus for him. But when he finally did, it was to Bucky holding him, rubbing soothing circles on his back with one hand, and whispering sweet nonsense in his ear. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so protected and cherished. Tears prickled at his eyes and he didn’t dare speak until he was certain he could trust his voice. 

Bucky noticed as Steve became more aware of himself, but he pretended to ignore the little tears that welled in the corners of the other man’s eyes. Steve sniffed harshly, letting out a long woosh of a breath. “That was….” he trailed off, at a loss for adequate words.

Bucky grinned and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, cuddling in a little. “Told ya I love giving head.” 

“You’re like the fucking king of it. My knees are still all tingly.” 

“Aww, honey. It wasn’t too much, was it? I know we didn’t talk about ass play yet but I figured a little tease wouldn’t hurt.” 

“I’m glad we didn’t.” Steve admitted quietly, “I probably would have psyched myself out of it. And it was… okay? Good?” 

“Thank you, for trusting me like that. We should talk about it, though. Figure out what you’re willing to try, and go at a pace you’re comfortable with. It can be so good, honey, you got no idea.” 

“Oh, I got a little bit of an idea.” Steve laughed. 

Bucky chuckled with him, “Yeah, I guess you did. I won’t rush you though, promise. We can take as long as you need.” 

“I don’t-” Steve started and stopped with a frown, “I don’t know how long that’ll be, Buck. I’m sorry. I want to be better for you but I’m still a little scared.” 

Bucky’s heart was bursting at Steve’s admission. “I know, and it’s okay. We’ll go at your pace. And I’m not asking you to bottom for me. I prefer that myself, actually.” 

Steve groaned a little imagining Bucky coming apart underneath him while he fucked the smaller man into the mattress. He was getting ahead of himself but it was a damn nice image. “We’ll get there.” Steve promised to him, as much as to himself. 

They stayed curled up for a little longer until the air conditioning proved too strong and they both pulled their pants back up over goosebumped legs. Bucky begged off after that, to both of their disappointments. It was late and reasonably they both needed sleep but still, Bucky knew it wouldn’t be long until one of them cracked and they started spending the night together. 

Steve looked around his apartment after Bucky headed out, painfully aware of how empty and silent it was. Part of him wished he’d asked Bucky to stay. Not that he could have, he didn’t have overnight stuff with him, but Steve hated going to bed alone after such a nice evening. That had been the hardest part of adapting to life post-Peggy, sleeping alone again. She had never been much of a cuddler, much to Steve’s disappointment, but she at least warmed the other side of his too big bed. 

As Steve curled up in still too big bed, he worried that things with Bucky were all going to be over in a blink. That things were destined to become just a distant memory of the time Steve had tried something different for a while. His heart ached thinking about it. But what was the alternative? He and Bucky actually made it work? He would come out as gay? Bi? To all his friends and coworkers? Explain that no he hadn’t lost his mind, it really just took him thirty years of life to realize he liked men. Would he and Bucky slowly merge their things until they were practically living together? Would his early class day alarm drive Bucky crazy three days a week? Would he bring flowers home after exasperating Bucky over something silly like forgetting to fold his clothes or leaving dishes in the sink? Would Bucky save him a warm plate of dinner on the nights he had to work late? Steve’s mind swam with possibilities he’d never really let himself consider before. He knew it was foolish to dream, that this was a nice fantasy but he’d soon have to get back to real life, as much as it pained him. Still, despite the warnings he gave himself, Steve drifted off to sleep with the dreams of early morning cuddles and quiet late night conversations in his mind. 

[midweekupdate]

04/09/14

I don't like my family. I mean, I don't know too many people who are overly fond of their families but between my mother's gambling problem and my father's fondness for sleeping with women who aren't my mother without her permission, family reunions are a nightmare. It's not even their proneness to addiction, it's the fact that I am the only family member who hasn't gone to some form of therapy or rehab to try and "fix" their "problems". I don't look on addiction as a problem; I look on it as a character flaw, one that doesn't need to be fixed. It simply needs to be controlled. That's what my parents never understood - still don't understand - about me or my sister. They were always trying to fix us like we were broken and it was torture.

But at least we always had each other. This was my first family dinner since my sister was arrested and I had to face the two of them alone. Really, I think it was just rude of her to get caught and I could easily make an argument to the effect that she did it on purpose specifically to avoid dad’s birthday dinner. But I know that's not true.

If I’m being honest, I could have gotten the family reunion over with a few years ago but I always had an excuse available: I have a work function, I have a custody hearing, I’m trying to figure out how to stuff a body into a pizza oven while my husband’s at work. They still laugh at that last one. One day I’ll tell them it wasn’t a joke. Maybe at Christmas.

Thank god for my two little terror’s at home, though. If it weren’t for them I’d be forced to visit my parents at least once a month. I’m so glad they saw reason and blamed their grandparents for what happened to their mother. Now I don’t even need to come up with an excuse, I just tell them that I can’t find a babysitter and wait for next year when they try to call. It’s a beautiful system.

Until this weekend.

I told my mother that the kids were here for the weekend when, in fact, they were both away (Jason at a friend’s house, Sandra touring universities with James). The peace and quiet was so welcome I didn’t think twice about lying to my mother.

And then she showed up at the door. Apparently she called James and he had foolishly told her the truth, thinking I had also told her the truth. I already scolded him so there’s no need to make snide remarks in the comments, dear readers.

So in burst my mother on Saturday morning insisting that my father would be here later in the day and we needed to clean the house for supper with the three of us. Great.

To her credit, my mother taught me some very valuable things: how to get stains out of carpet, and her desire to take risks in everyday situations. Mostly her cleaning skills, though, that woman could spark a blood bath in the kitchen and you’d never know it an hour later.

Huh.

Now I’m very careful about the cleanliness of my home. Too clean and the police become suspicious but too messy and I get these weird rashes all over my body. It’s not pretty. But my father has never been able to stand anything less than perfection when it came to the cleanliness of his home. When we were growing up we wouldn’t be allowed to eat a meal until the entire house passed inspection. I admit that in university I rebelled against him by living in an absolute pigsty but I slowly grew to appreciate the values of living in cleanliness. And having bleach on hand at all times.

Yes, for all my parent’s flaws, I can honestly say that they have shaped me into the woman I am today.

That still does not mean I want to see them on a regular basis and that certainly does not excuse them from acting like assholes at dinner. From the moment my mother stepped into my house she had to comment on everything, comparing it to her precious little condo that she and dad had bought now that they “didn’t have to entertain”. Of course that didn’t stop her from complaining about the fact that I never visit and that they were forced to move to a smaller house since their grandchildren were brainwashed into thinking they were the villains.

They say brainwashed, I say logically persuaded.

In any case, my mother spent more time criticizing my furniture choice, my choice of colour and even my choice of dish soap than she did cleaning which is odd even for her. Usually she’s much better at multitasking.

And then, like good little women, we had to make supper before father dear returned from chopping wood or selling women’s dresses or whatever he does now in his old age. It’s not that I minded cooking, it’s that it was expected of me. I hate when people just assume that I’ll do something. It irritates me to no end and if it were anyone else they would have found the body the next morning and I would be adding their information to my notebooks. But since they’re family I made an exception. 

Mostly because it would have raised too many questions.

Like clockwork, dad showed up as we were putting the food on the table and immediately made a beeline for the basement. He always liked to start at the bottom and worked his way up when he made his inspections. Thank god I remembered to change out my load of laundry. He has a nasty habit of airing out people’s dirty laundry and I doubt blood stains on my nice white blouse would have made him particularly excited. One habit I was glad to break was waiting for everyone to be seated before we ate. Sometimes dad’s inspections could take hours and I was not about to let his invasion of my privacy stop me from enjoying a good home-cooked meal. Even if my mother was glaring at me as I ate in silence.

That’s the thing about my family. Even when we were growing up, I can probably count on one hand the times when we’d had long, serious conversations. We rarely spoke to each other. Everything we said was silent. Glaring or disapproving looks were sometimes indistinguishable from disappointed or disturbed looks but after a while they all meant the same to my sister and me: you’re not good enough. I remember that look always made my sister cry. Even after all these years – in my own home no less – I still get an uneasy feeling in my stomach when my mother glares at me like that. Like she’s trying to burn me from the inside out. Like she knows my dark secrets. Of course she doesn’t. If she did I would have been arrested by now. My mother would literally turn in her own daughter if it meant making herself look good.

Which brings me to dinner - or at least the moment when we all sat down together. I have never believed my mother to be a good woman – nor would she want me to – but there’s a certain level of loyalty even criminals and low lifes have. She brought it up so casually like it was every day conversation. My father, to his credit or cowardice, remained silent as my mother recounted her tale.

I am not known for my calm attitude or my ability to forgive so it is out of sheer preservation that my mother is still alive today. I want you to understand that, dear readers. I am being purely selfish.

My mother turned my sister in to the police. She wasn’t caught by chance. She was ratted out. Four years and she finally got up the courage to confess to a crime I didn’t even know she committed.

After I heard the news, I honestly don’t know what happened or how dinner ended but when I next found myself it was later that evening and James was holding me back from attacking the washing machine with a hammer. Thank god he found me; that was an expensive machine.

All jokes aside, I have never blacked out like that. I’ve had moments where rage has overtaken me with a victim and they’ve ended up more guts than flesh but never for this long and never without supervision. I had James call my father to make sure they’d made it home safe and sound. He sounded so calm as he talked to my parents but I could tell he was scared.

That’s what my mother does to people. She brings out the terror in them. It comes in many forms but it’s like her super villain power: drawing the nightmares from people. I would think it was a gift if it didn’t affect me so much.

Instead it’s a curse. A terrible plague.

In a lot of ways my parents are well matched in that manner. Though my father’s terror is more silent but deadly.

Four days later and I’m still trying to fathom how someone can do that to their daughter. You don’t just drop a bomb on them like that in the middle of dinner. It’s so rude.

I’m hoping I scared them enough that they won’t want to have another impromptu family dinner for at least another year.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

[infiredsunflower]

LACUNA- Prologue

Lacuna- (noun) a missing part or unfilled gap

Genre: tooth-rotting fluff, maybe just a little angst.

Pairing: PLATONIC! BTS x reader, some feelings might develop idk yet?

A/N: I had an idea in the shower soooo, of course, I’m going to write it so this is a great opportunity for me to make my first series!! yay? Also, I made Y/N multilingual for reasons that will be important later so if it is in italics it is probably another language.

~

“heck!” I shouted as I tore into the women’s changing room, and my partner Emilia trailed after me with an amused look on her face, she began to speak in heavily accented English, “ Jesus y/n, why don’t you just curse? you know like 25 languages why not use them?”. I rolled my eyes at her and then switched to her native language of German to make it easier to understand “first of all I only know 10 languages and secondly my mamma would beat me if she knew that I even thought about cursing”. I was desperately trying to multitask while I spoke, shedding my PT gear and shimmying into my tactical pants and standard NASA T-shirt that I was required to wear all day as part of the space program. I had been running late today and in my haste, I had forgotten to pack a change of street clothes. 

By the time Emilia and I walked out of the changing room door our other teammate Park Kyong was waiting for us with his lovely smile. He greeted us in Korean, the only common language between the three of us which was probably a good thing because we did live in Korea. I had lived in Seoul since I had turned 18 and was approved for the ISS mission two years ago and even though there was a noticeable age gap between me and my teammates they became some of my best friends. “Kyong- Oppa do you think you could let me off early today?” you said desperately to him because he was the eldest and the highest-ranking he was the designated leader of your little group. “Why Y/n-ah? It's literally the last week of training.” Emilia interjected before you even got the chance to open your mouth, “ that band that she likes so much is having a fan meet, Oppa.you really should let her go, if you don’t she’ll be moping for weeks and do you really want a mopey y/n as your co-pilot?”

 Even though they knew I was a responsible and fully functioning adult the crew had a tendency to treat me like a baby. Sometimes it was sweet but other times it was just annoying, you had gotten a doctorate degree at age 17 and started working for NASA at age 15 for god's sake. You used it to your advantage now though and pouted up at Kyong.

 “Oppa pleeeease. I've been trying to go to a fan meet for almost three years now! They aren’t like a global sensation or anything yet but they’re really talented and I think that they are going to go places, really!” Kyong looked at you skeptically with a raised brow “ Are you sure it’s not just because you think they are hot y/n-ah?” my emotions must have been all over my face because he laughed and said “ get lost jagiya! Go enjoy your pretty boys' ' and made a shooing motion with his hand. You got so excited that you slipped into English and yelled “ REALLY! OPPA THANK YOU SO-” before you got Emilia’s hand over your mouth, not because she wasn’t enjoying you're little outburst but because she knew you hated any kind of attention from strangers, it made you anxious and flustered and you were most definitely drawing attention to yourself right now. Honestly, though you were way too excited to care. You shrugged out of her grasp and said “Tschüss Emilia, annyeong Kyong-Oppa, see y'all tomorrow!!” and hurried out of the building.

Kyong looked at Emilia once you had left with a stupid dopey grin on your face. He ran a hand over his face and sighed while he shook his head, “ How on earth is she even going to talk to them?” Emilia sighed and looked after you ‘she probably won’t even be able to, let's just hope that these BTS guys are nice because I think that I’ll beat them up if they hurt y/n’s feelings.” he chuckled at that as they walked out of the building together. 

~

“Gosh darn it” you muttered as you almost sprinted through the streets of Seoul. You blushed because of the people giving you weird looks but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care that much, this was your last chance to meet the people that changed your life before you went to space. You came across their song No more dream three years ago just a few weeks after their debut when you were still learning Korean.You translated the lyrics to the best of your ability and then sat in shock. You knew what your dream was and you always had. Since you were twelve...Go to space that's all there was to it, but when you joined the program at age fifteen after graduating high school early they asked you to stay in the control center instead of training you for space exploration. 

BTS’s words shook you so much that that very day at the ripe old age of seventeen you stormed into Lori Garver’s office and demanded that you WOULD be put on an expedition and that age didn’t matter. She was shocked that you were even there, she had no idea that you were even employed at NASA much less that you had dreams of going to space. After she explained this to you, you calmed down a bit. Later that week the two of you struck up a deal. When you turned eighteen you would move to South Korea, get a team, and then train for two years so that you would be twenty when you went up. You agreed eagerly, as long as you were getting what you wanted in the long run you could take some time to do it. You stopped a couple of feet from the entrance of the venue and caught your breath. Oh gosh, this was it you were really going to meet BTS!

[dvp95]

can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 10

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, deeper than anticipated but still not that deep y'all this is primarily silly, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 4,286 for this chapter (45,795 total)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Daniel?"

Dan blinks. He blinks again, zoning back into the conversation he's supposed to be a part of.

"Er," he says, sheepish. "What was the question?"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, Daniel?" the woman asks - the interviewer asks, fuck, this is like the sixth time he's asked her to repeat herself. "I heard you were ill yesterday, weren't you?"

He wasn't. But that is what Jaime and Patrick had sworn up and down to anyone who asked, because they're good partners in crime like that. They look like they regret it now.

"Yeah, Daniel," Jaime says, stressing his name in a way that makes Dan think she's one more fuckup from smacking him in the back of the head. He'd probably deserve it, at this point. He can't remember being this scatterbrained in his whole life, and that's saying something. "You sure you're okay being out of bed?"

The word 'bed' gets stressed too, just a bit, and Dan feels a flush creeping up his neck.

It's honestly unreasonable how he can't seem to focus on the task at hand, which is answering softball questions about the show he's worked on for three years, because his mind keeps drifting back to Phil.

Phil, who he'd left in bed with Thor, all sleepy noises and grumpiness at Dan needing to leave. Phil, who has the day off and might still be mostly naked and lazy while he waits for Dan to come back. Phil, who he only has three days left with.

Three more days in London. Two sleeps. And Dan has shit to do every single goddamn day of it.

This is a work trip, technically. They've got a handful of interviews the next two days that couldn't be scheduled for their first London stretch, and then they're going to France. That's exciting, it is, a mark of success that Dan never expected for himself, but right now he's frustrated by anything that cuts into the time he could be using to kiss Phil.

Dan is so busy remembering how Phil's mouth had felt against his that he forgets to answer the question. He can practically feel his eyes glaze over.

"Daniel," Patrick says, audibly exasperated.

It takes a lot to get Patrick to that point, so Dan ducks his head and mumbles another apology.

"He's fine," Jaime tells the very nice and concerned interviewer whose name Dan has long forgotten. "He's just got a lot on his mind right now and he's really shit at multitasking."

"Hey," says Dan. It's a weak protest.

The interviewer is a tall woman with kind eyes that crinkle into laughter lines when she smiles at him. She's dressed casually, has a denim jacket with patches and pins all over it, and Dan feels his eyes linger at the rainbow on her pocket.

What is that like? To be so certain and so confident that you can wear it on your sleeve even in a professional environment? Dan doesn't know that he'll be able to get there.

He wants to compliment her on it. It's the same urge he had in the restaurant with Phil's family, vocalizing that he wishes he could wear more nail polish. The same swirling anxiety of being judged for it follows quickly, but this time it's amplified by the recording device in the interviewer's hand, the knowledge that anything he says right now will be analyzed to death later.

Dan wants to live authentically, and he wants to get to a place where he doesn't need to hide, but he's frustrated by the reality of how much progress that's going to take. It's not going to be easy, it already hasn't been, and it's never going to stop.

Even with making a name for himself and having an audience, Dan knows that coming out publicly still won't stop strangers from making assumptions about him or demanding an explanation for the women he's been seen with. He'll have to come out over and over and - it's scary. It's really scary.

The compliment catches in his throat. He can't say it to someone recording him, no matter how kind her eyes are. He hasn't even told his grandma yet.

"I like your jacket," he says instead. He feels like a coward for it.

"Thanks," the woman says brightly, looking down at herself and tapping one of her bigger patches. "Customized it myself, obviously. It's a wee bit more colourful than you like to be seen in, right?"

The casual chirping helps Dan relax, reminds him that this is a laid-back interview with easy questions. Nobody is shining a heat lamp on him and asking for an expose on how he spent part of last night inside of another man.

He grins and shrugs. "Yeah, alright, I wear a lot of black. Sue me. I can still think colours look nice on some people."

Great. Now he's thinking about Phil again.

"Like Jaime," Patrick offers, tugging at one of Jaime's bubblegum braids. Dan still can't tell if it's a wig or not, but she smacks Patrick's hand away like it's her own hair.

"That's true," says Dan. "Jaime wears as much black as I do, though, I dunno that she's the best example."

Patrick nods, solemn. "At least her hair is interesting."

"Oi, fuck you. Sorry," Dan adds sheepishly. Even though this is an online print interview, he still feels a little bit of shame whenever he slips up and curses during an interview.

The woman - Cara? Catherine? Camilla? Ca-something? - just laughs and waves his apology off.

With an ease that Dan can't help but notice isn't quite as practised as Phil's, the interviewer moves on to questions about their other cast members. While they don't have any trouble making fun of each other, it's even more fun to exaggerate stories of people who aren't here to defend themselves.

Dan tries so hard to participate. He does. He laughs in all the right places and gives Jaime grief for not remembering something right, because he's given this poor interviewer nothing of substance. The thing is that Jaime is better at telling stories and Patrick is so dry and stoic with interrupting jokes that Dan knows he isn't needed for this. He lets them bicker over a story detail that he's long forgotten and feels himself start to zone back out.

He listens to Patrick's slow timbre, Jaime's trill of a laugh, and lets his mind drift back to where it wants to be.

--

Even though it's tempting, Dan isn't stupid enough to text Phil in the middle of doing his fucking job. He has to resort to checking his phone between interviews and pictures, getting more and more pouty about the lack of response to the things he's sending throughout the morning. Phil must be having a lie-in, because it takes him a couple of hours to even see Dan's texts.

ugh i should have just stayed in bed

pls send thor pics

and you pics but like give me a heads up if your dick is out im at work

i dropped my coffee on jaimes lap fml shes gonna kill me

im just so distracted lmaooo

canft believe youre just asleep thats so rude

Oh nooooooo. I always cry over spilt coffee :( you want me to bring you one? I can come hang out for lunch!

The sweet text is accompanied by a photo of Thor asleep on the sofa, his little head pillowed on Phil's knee. Phil is wearing Dan's pyjama pants and - it's hard to tell for sure, with the way the photo is angled, but Dan thinks he's got the Friends shirt on. Frankly, that should be gross. Dan wore that shirt for way too long for it not to smell like, well, his sweat, and that is objectively not sexy.

Dan feels gooey warmth spread from his stomach outwards, anyway. Maybe it is gross, but it makes him happy to think about Phil's shirt smelling like him the way that his own Yeezy shirt still faintly smells like Phil. He covers his mouth with a hand so nobody milling around will see him grinning like an idiot.

thats ok, Dan texts back one-handed. yall look comfy you should stay. i'll b back for dinner and snuggles ok?

Ok! ^_^

God, but Dan wants to be there now. He wants to be the one cuddled up with his head in Phil's lap. He recognises that it's very stupid to be jealous of a dog, but he isn't going to let that stop him.

"Hey, Howell." Patrick's voice interrupts the daydream of slender fingers carding through Dan's hair.

Dan blinks. He blinks again, looks up.

"I didn't even see you sit down," Dan tells him, bemused. They're sharing a bench in the building's lobby, not wanting to go too far in case they need to go back upstairs for more photos during the short break in their day.

"Yeah, you're on another planet," says Patrick. Dan wishes he could argue that fact. "Things went well with your whole Love Actually emergency, then?"

The reference pulls Dan up short. He feels his brow furrow as he walks through the entire film in his head. "What are you talking about? None of this happened in Love Actually."

"It's British, isn't it," Patrick says nonsensically.

"I don't," Dan starts, but then he gives up. He and Patrick are close as coworkers - friends, even - but Dan never quite understands the links that Patrick's brain makes. "It went well. It went really well. I don't know if Jaime told you everything I texted her, but I like... fully ended up meeting the family."

Patrick's eyebrows raise slightly. That's quite a reaction, from him. "You met the parents? Bro. You just started dating."

They're not in an overly crowded area, but people keep waking by them on their way in or out of the building, so Dan is pleasantly surprised to discover that Patrick can play the pronoun game, too.

"Yeah," says Dan. He doesn't want to get into the mix-up right now. He's sure that Patrick will have another incomprehensible reference when he hears about it. "But it just feels... I dunno. Right? In a way other people haven't? Maybe that's obvious."

"It's not obvious," says Patrick. He's snapping a hair elastic around his wrist idly, the gesture something Dan had thought was an expression of annoyance or frustration when they first met. Dan knows now that it means Patrick is tired, that he wants to shove his hair off his shoulders and stop it from tickling his neck. They're only halfway through their day, though, still a couple of photoshoots to get through, so he can't put his hair up just yet.

Dan knows so much about these people. He's learned it all from such close proximity for the past three years, but he also genuinely likes spending time with them. He feels, suddenly, very guilty for wishing cancellation on this thing they've all worked so hard for.

"Sorry," Dan says.

"For what?"

He doesn't really know how to voice it. He shrugs. "For being a shit coworker right now."

Patrick gives him an indecipherable look and shakes his head. "Daniel," he says, "you're not being a shit coworker."

"I kind of am, though," says Dan. "Like I can't focus at all, I'm missing interviews, and I... I don't know how much I want to go back to Atlanta. Is that bad?"

"Why would that be bad?" Patrick hums. "This is your home."

Home isn't an easy concept for Dan to wrap his head around. He hadn't had a happy one for most of his life, hadn't been able to find somewhere that felt quite right ever since he escaped that. So it's a little disconcerting when Patrick's words settle into his chest and feel like indisputable truth.

"London is home," Dan echoes, wondering it it feels just as right coming out of his own mouth. It does. His head is spinning, a bit.

"Yeah," Patrick says, like it's that easy.

Dan gives himself a little shake back into the present. He smiles, wry. "Still, I probably shouldn't be crossing my fingers under tables for the producers to shut us down."

For a moment, Patrick looks confused. Dan is all ready to apologise again, shove those feelings down, but Patrick just says, "So negotiate your contract. You know that you aren't required by law to see the show through to the end, right? You can just not come back for season four, or only come back for a couple episodes instead of a full season."

They're sat in a fairly public area, with other people walking about, but Dan could hear a pin drop in the shattering silence that rings in his ears at Patrick's use of logic.

"I," says Dan, "did not think of that."

Patrick nods. "You kind of tunnel-vision sometimes, has anyone ever told you that?"

--

By the time Dan returns to Phil's building, he's talked himself into and back out of quitting his job a dozen times. It's a dumb decision, but not much dumber than simply waiting for someone else to make the decision for him.

He decides to call Amy when he's in France and talk the options through with her. She's already looking for potential gigs in the UK for him, so hopefully the conversation isn't going to come as much of a surprise to her. The last thing he needs is for his agent to get upset with him over making changes in his life.

Dan's head is buzzing with it, loud enough to give him a headache. He texts Phil that he's outside and waits to be let in. He gets an intrusive domestic fantasy of letting himself in with his own key, and reminds himself to rein in this U-Haul bullshit.

"Hey!" Phil beams as he opens the door and steps back for Dan to come in. Other people live on the other floors, but Phil still leans in for a long kiss the moment the door closes behind Dan.

It sends sparks up Dan's spine and quiets some of the unending noise in his head. He sighs, leans into the kiss, wraps his arms around Phil's waist to pull him even closer.

He's cognizant of where they are, though, so he pulls back to rest their foreheads together after a moment. "Hey yourself."

"Did you have a good day?" Phil asks, his tri-coloured eyes bright and unguarded.

"Yeah, but it's better now," says Dan. He's parroting what Phil said to him yesterday, and he can tell that Phil recognises it from the little smile on his face. "You look nice. You showered just for me?"

Phil laughs and tugs at Dan's wrist, pulling him down the stairs. They've got four left feet between them, honestly, so it's a miracle nobody takes a nosedive.

"Yeah," he says as they narrowly avoid any number of broken bones. He presses Dan against the wall next to his front door and grins at him. "But it was also for the judgey moms at the dog park. You look nicer, you didn't take the makeup off?"

To be honest, Dan had forgotten it was even on his face. He settles his hands on Phil's hips and smiles. "They made me look like the best version of me, why would I erase all their hard work?"

"Mm, you do look pretty," Phil says, and Dan is lucky to have his back against a wall. His knees might have actually buckled at the praise if he was unsupported.

"Pretty, huh?" Dan asks. He tries to keep his tone dry, like it's a big joke, but Phil's big eyes just see too much.

"Very pretty," says Phil. Dan doesn't know how to handle being complimented by Phil's deep, sincere voice, but he isn't given much of a chance to react before Phil is speaking again. "But I don't know that I'd call this the best version of you. You looked really nice when you came, y'know."

"Fuck, Phil," Dan laughs, a little breathless. "I was literally gone for ten hours."

"Ten hours too many," Phil grumbles.

Dan laughs again, but he has to admit that Phil has a point. The day had absolutely dragged on with the knowledge that his probably-boyfriend was waiting for him.

"You wanna go inside, then?" Dan suggests, running his thumbs just under the hem of Phil's clean shirt. "I'll do a lot of things, but this floor is cement, mate. I'm not blowing you out here."

The giggle that's surprised out of Phil makes Dan smile so wide it hurts his cheeks. He smacks the center of Dan's chest lightly and steps back to let them both into his flat. "I was thinking we could, like, order dinner first or whatever, but I'm not going to complain if you want to switch up the itinerary."

"The itinerary," Dan mocks, looking around for a ball of fluff running directly at them as he struggles with his shoes. "Uh, where's Thor?"

"Uh," says Phil. There's colour high in his cheeks that he tries to hide by flopping onto the sofa. The sweats he stole off of Dan don't really leave much to the imagination at all, not when he's sitting like that, and Dan almost loses his balance when he stands up straight. The pink doesn't leave Phil's face, but a knowing smirk joins it. "He's in the bathroom."

Dan's heart skips like an old CD player and he laughs to mask just how fond he is. "Uh huh, and here you are acting like you were really ordering food first."

"Well," Phil says, his smirk growing, "we could still order first, it'd be at least twenty."

"Sounds like a challenge," Dan hums, coming around the sofa to sit on the other end and lean forward, kissing the sliver of skin where Phil's shirt is riding up. "Why don't you do that, and I'll go get a bloody condom."

Phil blushes, proper blushes, and pulls a packet out of his pocket. "Ta-da," he jokes, weakly. "For my next trick -"

"If you say you're going to make your penis disappear," Dan says, flat, "then I'm walking out."

They just look at each other for a long moment, like a staring contest neither of them initiated, and then Phil snorts. That sets them both off and soon enough they're laughing, Dan's nose tucked against Phil's hipbone and Phil's hand over his mouth.

"I wasn't going to say that," Phil insists, still giggling. "I wasn't."

"Sure you weren't." Dan grins up at him and slides up his body, a little less graceful than he'd imagined it in his head. He presses their smiles together and licks into Phil's mouth. A little noise passes between them when Phil's hands find their way into Dan's hair, but Dan isn't sure which of them it comes from.

The giddy feeling of laughter doesn't leave Dan's chest. He lets it make a home there as he trails kisses all over Phil's long, pale neck. He doesn't need to guess when Phil likes something - he squirms and makes these little huffs of noises, grip on Dan's curls tightening just a bit before it loosens again. It feels impossibly powerful to learn how to take Phil apart like this, like they're teenagers snogging on the sofa in their first relationship.

It's strange that this does feel like a first relationship for Dan, in a lot of ways. He loved his first girlfriend and cared about other women he's dated, but it's not the same at all.

Finally, Dan is allowed to feel all the things he's supposed to have felt when he was younger. He's allowed to let budding affection and lust and friendship all wrap up in one person.

"So, the piercings," Dan murmurs, letting his hand slide up Phil's shirt to toy with one of them.

"What about them?" Phil asks. He already sounds impatient and needy, like he had last night, and the sound of it goes straight to Dan's dick.

Dan laughs and sits up, helping Phil get his shirt off over his head. "I mean, do they do things for you? Do they feel good when I touch them? How do you want me to touch them to make them feel good?"

"Do you always ask this many questions during sex?" Phil asks, dry.

There's no point in lying. "Yeah, I tend to babble." Dan gives him a winning smile and taps at Phil's hips, a silent request for him to lift up. Phil does happily, arching up for Dan and letting his stolen sweats get tugged off. "Guess you'll have to shut me up somehow."

Phil laughs, muffling the sound of it with his palm, and shakes his head. He looks so fucking gorgeous like this, giggly and naked and starting to get hard against his thigh. Dan has no idea how he got this lucky.

"That's such a terrible line," Phil informs him, grinning wide. He doesn't seem bothered by Dan being dressed when he isn't. He just settles back against the cushions and wiggles a bit, either trying to get comfortable or just teasing Dan. Either is possible at this point.

"It's not a line," Dan protests, shrugging his jacket off and settling back between Phil's legs. He presses his mouth to Phil's soft tummy and, unable to help himself, blows a raspberry.

Phil kicks out at him, instinctive, and his tongue is trapped between his teeth as he tries to hold back giggles.

"My nipples aren't sensitive," Phil tells him, voice wavering with some combination of amusement and arousal. He drops a hand to wrap around his own cock, thumbing at the metal on the tip of it. "This is. It, like, tugs. It's nice."

Biting back a groan at the sight, Dan digs around for the condom. He impatiently knocks Phil's hand out of the way to get him hard enough that he can roll it on. The piercing just above his balls settles nicely at the bottom of the latex, almost like it's holding it in place. Dan rolls it between his fingers, watches Phil's eyes flutter closed. "And this one?"

"Not as much. Still good, though." Phil's tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Dan grins at the unconscious reminder of what he's meant to be doing.

It's not the most comfortable for them to be laid out on the sofa like this, lanky as they are, but Dan isn't nineteen anymore. His knees do not hold up the way they used to. He wraps his hand around the base of Phil's cock and lets the tips of his fingers idly play with the metal bar as he finally gets his mouth on Phil.

Dan isn't used to the taste of latex accompanying a blowjob, but it isn't unpleasant. He gives Phil a couple of long licks and then sucks lightly at the head, not sure how much pressure Phil likes yet.

That's something he thinks he'd love to learn. He wants to know everything about Phil's body, wants to make him tremble with it.

Dan is extremely offended when he glances up and sees that Phil is tapping something on his phone, but the offense settles when Phil huffs a laugh and says, "Put in for takeaway. All yours, now."

The phone gets put down and Dan tongues at the bump of Phil's Prince Albert ring through the condom. That makes Phil's breath hitch, his hips jerk just a bit.

It's been years since Dan has had a cock in his mouth, but he likes to think it's like riding a bike. He takes Phil deep, hollows out his cheeks, repeats any motion that makes Phil let out soft groans. He forgot how much he likes this, fuck.

Much like everything else, it's somehow impossibly better with Phil.

Phil keeps a hand in Dan's hair and braces the other on the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and Dan doesn't want to close his eyes and miss a fucking moment of this.

"Fuck," Phil breathes, and Dan responds with an answering moan around his dick. "Yeah, alright, that's - fuck, Dan, you feel so good, look so pretty like that."

The praise still makes Dan shudder. He sucks Phil harder, feeling the weight of Phil's cock on his tongue as he speeds up his movements.

Dan remembers blowjobs to be pretty fast. He also never gave one to a man older than twenty, though, and his jaw starts to ache once he realises that Phil isn't going to be pushed over the edge as quickly as he's used to.

He pulls off to give his jaw a break, stroking Phil and pressing his open mouth along the side of him.

"You think I feel nice?" Dan laughs, pleased by the way the gust of air makes Phil's cock twitch. "Fucking, forgot how good this feels."

"Yeah?" Phil prompts, his voice deep and breathy and so, so nice to listen to. No wonder he's so successful on the radio. "You like sucking cock?"

Dan shivers. "Yeah," he says. He's unashamed, because he feels safe here with Phil. He can admit to liking a cock in his mouth, a hand in his hair, being called pretty. "Yours specifically, though."

Phil laughs. "That's good. I like specifically your cock, too." He looks over at his kitchen for a moment and raises his eyebrows. "I'll get dressed and answer the door when the pizza gets here if you can make me come in the next five minutes."

Well. Never let it be said that Dan Howell backs down from a challenge.

[fanfiction-blep]

Avengers Group Chat. Part 4

Here you go seems everyone enjoyed part three so much XD

(Y/N): Seriously?!

(Y/N): are you guys being serious right now?

Tony: absolutely.

Tony: my house my rules.

Natasha: they may have us beat kid

Steve: mmm

Clint: time to stand down

Steve: Tony?

Tony: sorry honey. Our house.

Sam: I mean I would love to argue but... it's not our place

Thor: I mean obviously I dated Jane and my father didnt approve

(Y/N): THANK YOU THOR!

Bucky: okay

Bucky: everyone is asking the wrong question

Tony: what do you mean?

Bruce: you know Bucky is right

Steve: I'm so confused

Bucky: who is it (Y/N) wants to go on a date with

(Y/N): ...

Clint: SHES ON THE RUN

Natasha: I got her

Sam: 5th floor second corridor.

Bruce: it's okay the systems in lockdown.

Vision: I regret to inform you (Y/N) has hacked the system and is now on the 2nd floor

Bucky: what is it with people adding themselves?!

Tony: vision is apart of the interface her can basically hack the internet inside the tower

Natasha: can we all stop freaking out about how he got into the chat and focus and tracking down our wayward teen

Tony: says the women on her phone

Steve: Tony!

Bucky: there's really no need for that

Natasha: I'm a women

Natsha: unlike some I can multitask

Sam: Oh snap!

Sam:

Tony: 😑😑😑

Vison: it appears (Y/N) has left the building

Thor: would you like me to aid natasha in finding young Stark

Bruce: that would be helpful he is a God

Bucky: yeah but we dont want the whole world knowing we lost her

Steve: we haven't lost her.

Tony: nope I put a tracker in her a long time ago

Steve: you did WHAT!?

Tony: oops?

Steve: I cannot believe you right now

Tony: but right now it's the best way to find her and bring her home

Steve: We will talk about this later.

Vison: I regret to inform you that her tracker is still in the building... in the sewage

Bucky: Wow she really is your two's daughter.

Sam: I live for the shit this kid causes honestly

Bruce: its not really that funny

Bruce: she could get hurt

Bucky: have you seen that girl in the ring? She can handle herself

Natasha: okay I've got eyes on her boys

Thor: yes lady Natasha and I have located the teenager

Natsha: we have her

Vison: that is good when will you arrive?

Thor: only a few moments she didnt get far

Steve: I think this has gotten way out of hand

Clint: I'll say I've never had this issue with my kids

(Y/N): because your a cool parent

Tony: woah that is so uncalled for

(Y/N): really? Tracker?

Steve: dont worry I'll talk to him later.

(Y/N): that wasnt even the point of this conversation

(Y/N): you guys should be happy I'm asking and not just doing what I want. I respect you enough as my parents to talk to you about this stuff

Natsha: yeah why'd you run?

Sam: she has a point

(Y/N): oh sure and let earths mightiest heroes kill my boyfriend

Bruce: what?

Tony: BOYFRIEND

Steve: Tony calm down

Natasha: ... Kid....

Clint: shit...

Bruce: why would we kill him

[silver-greedling]

Bad Timing

Robert Manion x Reader (wowie i love starkid now, ive watched, like, FIVE musicals in a week. small question, anyone know where i can find, like, vids or stuff of them just chilling? i wanna get a better feel for their personalities, tendencies, and relationships with one another before i write a whole lot about them. any help is needed and appreciated! sorry if this one is short!!! also, should i start putting a little “read more” thing after a paragraph or two? im fine with or without, so tell me what you guys would prefer)

My roommate, best friend, and crush, Robert Manion, was leaving for the airport in about six hours. I was busy preparing a hearty meal that would keep him filled up on the flight, so he wouldn’t go hungry or have to buy airplane food.

He was packing bags and scouring the apartment for anything else he may need on the trip. He was so messy; His clothes could be found scattered in almost every room, save the (tiny) kitchen and (tinier) living room. Even then, I wouldn’t be shocked if I found a long-lost shirt of his had somehow ended up under the couch or in a cabinet in the kitchen.

At last, the pan of eggs was done! All that was left was a few more pieces of bacon, which were done not long after. Multitasking two foods on the same stove that needed to be checked often was proving difficult, but I managed.

“Breakfast!” I half-yelled, knowing Robert was just a room over. I placed both pans, very carefully, on the small coffee table in the living room, where I had already set up two plates and forks. I returned to the kitchen for two glasses of milk, walking back to the living room to find Robert (somewhat) patiently awaiting my return.

I placed a glass in front of him, then put mine by my own plate, before plopping next to him on the floor. “Shall we?”

He nodded eagerly. If there was anything I knew about him, it was that he seemed to find my cooking amazing. One way or another, he found himself asking me to make every meal I could. When I pushed a joke of “women’s work”, he got embarrassed and told me the truth, that he liked my food. Since then, I’d been making every meal I could manage to, just to see him smile when I said our food would be homemade.

The smile on his face, as he took in a few bites of food, made the hard work of handling two hot pans over the stove completely worth it. I felt myself smile as I dug into my own plate of food. I had to admit, knowing he enjoyed it so much made me as happy as he was to eat it.

“Amazing, as always,” he said after, very quickly, finishing up his plate. He took a drink from his milk, then sighed. “I won’t have another one of these meals for over four months.”

“Awe, don’t make me sad,” I said over the rim of my own cup. “I’d make one for you to take, but airport security, man.”

He laughed. “Well, if I call asking for how you make your food, don’t be surprised. I will miss it.” He sighed again.

I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I stood, taking our plates and the pans back to the kitchen and setting them in the sink. Washing dishes could come later. My time with Robert was at five hours, not including the twenty minute drive to the airport.

“Let’s play some games, or watch a movie,” I suggested, sitting down on the couch. “We still have time to kill before you leave.”

Robert stood. “Yeah, pick out a movie. I’m going to make sure I have everything packed that I need.”

He padded off toward his room, and, as I picked out a movie (Grown Ups), I  thought about my history with Robert.

I had been working with Team Starkid for almost five months when Robert came in. We hit it off almost instantly. When I realized he had been living in a hotel room for almost a week, I offered to clear out a room that was, at the time, an office and storage space. He tried to decline, but I persuaded him. Now, he’s been staying here almost seven years, albeit traveling back and forth between here and Australia.

I wasn’t able to reminisce any longer, because Robert was coming back into the room, one suitcase, looking a touch overpacked, in hand. He placed it beside the couch, then plopped next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. Leaning against him, I picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The movie had already been put in what served as our DVD player (but was really my PS3). Robert tilted his head at the title screen.

“I haven’t seen this one,” he noted. “What is it?”

“Just watch,” I replied with a grin on my face.

His arm pulled me a touch closer, and I leaned against him almost completely as the movie began.

By the end of it, we were both almost in tears from laughter. Just under two hours of our time had gone by, leaving us at about three. “Wanna watch the second one?” I offered.

“Can we handle a second one?” he asked jokingly, but agreed.

When that was done, we were at about an hour and a half, but my eyes were getting a little droopy. Although it was around midday, I was extremely tired from staying up through the night making sure Robert’s stuff, or, at the least, the stuff I thought he needed, was in his room.

Before I knew it, I was being shaken awake. Five minutes until we had to leave.

I sat up from where I had fallen asleep on his shoulder, turning my head away to yawn loudly. “Sorry,” I muttered tiredly.

He shook his head. “It’s fine,” he assured me. “We just have to leave soon.”

With another yawn, I stood and stretched my arms, before turning to him. “I’ll get shoes, then I’ll be good to go.”

I padded over to the doorway, where we kept our shoes lined up. Robert offered my sleepy self an arm to lean on while I slipped into my shoes, which I was grateful for. When sleepy, I tended o have bad balance. He knew this, probably from hearing me, a million times, trip in the middle of the night, on my way to the bathroom or kitchen.

“I’ll drive us there so you can wake up a little bit,” he said, and I agreed. We clambered into my car, a crappy Civic that probably needed to be checked soon. I sat myself in the passenger side while Robert got in the driver’s side and started the car. In half a minute, we were buckled in and on the road.

The drive was quiet, mostly somber. It usually felt that way when he was leaving. I always knew that, for however long he was away, my life would change. I would make meals for one. I would do laundry half as much. I would watch movies and play games alone.

The airport parking lot came way too soon. We had arrive ten minutes early. Robert noticed this, I guess, as he stayed in the car a little while.

“Hey, Robert,” I spoke, not entirely sure of what I was doing. “Can you stay a minute longer?”

“I’ve got time,” he said, removing his seatbelt and turning to me. “What’s up?”

“Well...” I fiddled with my fingers, keeping my eyes on them. “I know that this is really bad timing, but...I don’t know, I’ve liked you for a really long time, now, and I just got the courage to say it. I know I should’ve probably said it sooner, but I-”

His hand reached over to grab mine, and I met his gaze. He grabbed both of my hands in his.

“Do you mean that?” he asked me, seriousness etched into his features. I nodded, and a smile broke across his face. “You should’ve said it sooner!”

His hands moved forward to grab my shoulders, and, before I knew it, he was moving closer. He met my eyes before getting too far. When I nodded, he put a hand on my cheek and kissed me.

It felt like flying. When I put my hands on his shoulders, he put his on my waist, trying to pull me closer, although the console between the seats sort of got in the way.

He released after a long time, and I struggled to find air. His hand was still on my face, the thumb gently caressing my cheek.

“I...” He started to talk, but trailed off. “Damn it. I have to go.”

I nodded. “I know. I wish you didn’t.”

“Right now, I do, too.”

I looked up, trying to give him a smile. “If you don’t find any pretty girls in Australia, I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”

A wide grin took over his face. “I will not find a girl like you in Australia. I will come back to you, and I’m going to ask you out the minute I see you again.”

“I’ll say yes.”

His smile got even bigger as he kissed me again. Slowly, reluctantly, he got out of the car, retrieving his bag from the trunk. I exited, as well, catching him in a hug when he came my way.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised me. With one more kiss, he was walking into the airport, glancing back to me every few steps. When he got inside, I sighed and walked to the driver’s side, sitting in the seat. He’d left the keys in the ignition, thank God. I remembered, once, he had taken the keys with him, earning him an earful over the phone as I hailed a cab and prayed someone wouldn’t steal my shit car from the airport parking lot.

The whole drive home, I thought about him, and everything he said to me. I couldn’t wait for four months to pass.