#there are very few things I’m glad to have partly forgot.

[zenmom]

Thinner Queen reminiscing the past. I loved that silly little yellow friendly bear, Shongololo. For the love of my life and my hobby, I loved reading. I had fun with my friend, @pixelatedbones during the period of school times that she helped me open my mind to liking new stuff and be obsessed over with, other than the game and its main character I used to play and be obsessed with. She even introduced me to miraculous Ladybug’s lore (yes, I’ve heard of the show and know it exists before I met her) and Steven Universe (her friends were talking about Steven’s neck and that led to my obsession with Spinel) and My hero academia.

I had fun as a little kid. It was fun while it lasted.

[uplatterme]

false god

—sub!dainsleif/dom!amab!reader, priest!reader | reader is called ‘father’, throatfucking, cockstepping, first half is plot and then the other is filth.

—and after posting about writing for dain since january, i actually finally finished one for him!

This isn’t the first time that such a thing had happened to the Bough Keeper.

Such a thing was, accidentally teleporting himself to a place he didn’t mean to, partly due to exhaustion and sleepless nights.

It was often like these that the immortality cast upon him mocked him more than anything. 

Droplets of water started to fall onto his hair, then eventually onto his body. He stares into the dark sky, the coldness of the rain bringing more comfort than it does harm.

Dainsleif sighs, and instead of teleporting away to his right destination, he starts to walk and explore this newfound place.

There isn’t much to say about where he’s landed himself, and frankly, he’s thankful for that. Silence is a gift for him nowadays and even when he’s isolated, it’s rare that he isn’t plagued by awful memories that keep him from just closing his eyes for longer than a few minutes.

His slow steps are halted though, when he sees that he has brought himself in front of a very peculiar building. The rain continues to soak his body as the man stares at the white architecture and the statue that is displayed in front.

He chuckles. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. His luck had never been the one to land on his side, he didn’t know why he expected otherwise.

It’s quite big for a chapel, especially since he doesn’t recognize the figure in front. Still, it’s one of a god’s, nonetheless. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised considering the lengths that devotees had gone to.

His curiosity gets the best of him when he goes nearer the said building, wanting to examine the sculpture. However, before he could even get a closer look, the wooden entrance opens.

The Khaenri'ahn’s first instinct is to transport himself away but finds that to be useless as he meets the eyes of another. What he didn’t expect next, is genuine worry.

“My goodness! Are you alright?” 

He almost gets confused as to why one would react in such horror. He doesn’t have any blood on him, does he?

Dainsleif looks down, not wanting to traumatize a random stranger…and discovers that there’s nothing wrong with him?

He lifts his head back up, only to find you nowhere near the doors of the chapel. He wonders where you are for a quick second until he feels something warm covering his body.

“I hope my robe will make do…Come on, get inside. You must be cold.” His reluctance is evident in his face but before he can even say anything, he’s pushed inside the chapel, much to his distaste.

Him stepping inside such a place was too much for him already that he forgot the fact that he’s wearing a robe, one that he assumed was no ordinary one.

Dainleif wants to take it off and so he tries to, at least.

“Keep it. I apologize I don’t have any spare clothes at the moment.”

He really does not want to wear a priest’s robe. 

“Did you come here for the mass? I’m afraid it ended an hour ago…Ah, but you can still stay until the rain stops.” You offer generously.

“No. I just happened to be passing by.” He explains.

He watches as your mouth gapes, looking for the words to say after you’ve just brought him in here out of his will.

“That makes sense…I was wondering why I haven’t seen you before. Not that it matters, you can still stay. The Chapel of our God is glad to help any troubled souls.”

He takes offense at that. 

“Troubled, you say? That’s quite a big assumption of a man you’ve just met.” His tone is as monotone as ever, yet that doesn’t hide the disdainful look that lingers in his bright eyes.

You muse.

“Ah yes, a non-troubled person that enjoys looking gloomy and letting the rain pour all over them.”

Dainsleif bites his tongue at that.

“I’ll show you around.”

While it does interest him that this chapel worships a god that isn’t of the seven, that doesn’t mean that he wants to learn more about a dead god who was defeated in the archon war just like the others. Although he presumes that the way you tell of their tales makes it somewhat bearable.

Even if it’s not what he expected.

It’s not as overwhelming as he had thought, but perhaps that was due to the lack of nuns he usually sees when it comes to churches.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask fondly, stopping your rambling about your said god just to listen to him.

“Does this place have many attendees?”

“Not quite…but it’s a lot if you consider they’re followers of a God who isn’t one of the seven.”

Frankly, Dainsleif doesn’t get it. It’s not as if all these masses you lead would ever lead to something else. It’s just wasted hard work, if he’s to be brutally honest.

He can tell that there’s a lot of admiration and work you have put into this, but for what reason? What reason is there to keep spreading the word of someone you haven’t even personally met?

Would your faith waiver if knowledge of your god performing deemed evil acts is brought upon you?

“Should we continue the tour?” You ask.

He politely shakes his head, thoughts still lingering in his head.

“We must adhere to these values that our God has specified in their writings…that our way of living as a mortal is something that should be celebrated and not frowned upon…”

The non-believer sits at the last row of the chapel, somewhat half-heartedly listening to your words as you read passages from a book in your hands.

He only watches, observing the entire view in front of him. How people reply in unison whenever you say a certain phrase, an exchange that he finds to be quite strange. 

The mass isn’t that long, yet you still manage to lead that hour with grace, making sure that every part of it goes well without any fault.

How you stand to the side, leaning on the podium with a smile as everyone sings along with the choir.

Dainsleif’s eyes meet yours and he sees you mouth a greeting to him.

…He supposed that he can stay for a minute when everyone has gone.

He sees you grin as you start walking towards him, your robe neat and tidy as ever.

Surprisingly, he speaks first.

“I’m surprised you still have a recollection of me.”

“It’s only been a few months.” You reply, your voice soft and soothing, unlike the way you spoke as you preached earlier.

Most people would choose to forget. “You’re different in person than you are earlier.”

“Perhaps.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the chapel, the mosaic windows dim the bright sunlight from the outside but that only results in the colored glass reflecting stunningly on your face.

He takes the initiative and speaks again.

“Is it because I’m not a follower?”

Your breathing catches on his ear. “Maybe.”

He wonders if you know of his lineage and if that’s the reason why you had kept an eye out for him, suspicions rousing through your brain.

“Father.” The change of tone to formality shocks you a little that you were forced to question why he’s suddenly calling you that.

Your awkward chuckle echoes through the building. “What are you calling me that for?”

“Just seeing if your attitude would change. If you’re truly as honest as you present yourself to be.”

You click your tongue. “Is there a reason you came here?”

There it is. A snarky tone. He knew he was right to come back here. 

Why was he sent here before? Was someone playing tricks on him? The Abyss? The gods? He knows there has to be a reason for him being teleported here that day.

“May I ask how someone becomes a member of your church, Father?”

He hears you sigh deeply. Why?

Aren’t more members what you want and need?

“If that’s how you want to do this then…I’ll amuse you. Follow me, troubled one.”

Dainsleif’s fists close at the nickname.

He’s brought to a room that you once showed him the previous time that he was here. You never explained what exactly this room was for as he left just before you got to.

There’s a small fountain, clear and blue flowing through it.

“This is a small tradition we have. It’s based on one of the writings that…you haven’t read, but that’s alright. It’s not that difficult to follow.” You start to explain.

“It’s a symbol of starting anew, to wash yourself of the regrets you have.” 

“And if I do not have any?” He questions.

“You do. Everyone does, even Gods.”

“You think gods regret the things they’ve done.” His patience is thinning inch by inch. He almost laughs at the ridiculousness of that sentence.

“That I do. According to one of the passages that—”

“How exactly do I know whether what you’re saying is genuine or just out of a damn book?” He interrupts.

You stare at him with a disapproving look. “You’re deflecting.”

“Excuse me?” 

“What is it that troubles you?”

Nothing. He’s fine. He’s done with everything, there’s no use in pondering over what could’ve and should’ve been.

“Don’t act as if you’re superior to me.” He says, visibly upset.

“So much for becoming a believer.” 

That’s when the grin is swayed off your face in just a few seconds as Dainsleif pins you to the wall, your head slightly tilted up as he grips tightly on your collar.

“Who sent you?” His enchanting eyes cross yours, not even a shade of fear in them.

“What exactly have you gone through that you think everything is out to get you?”

He stills at that. You’re not trying to push him off.

Instead, you’re conversing with him like he’s a lost lamb who’s unsure of where to go. An amenable priest who listens and asks.

He lets go. Your robe is now crinkled, and the mark of his fist is clearly evident.

You sit on the bench near the fountain, patting the empty space right next to it. Dainsleif refuses the offer, choosing to continue standing while he searches for the next words he’d like to say.

You smile.

“You don’t have to apologize or continue this. It doesn’t mean anything anyways if you don’t take it to heart.”

It’s such a strange sentence to hear from someone like you. You’re not..forcing him nor are you trying to sell him your ways by threatening him of what he may face if he doesn’t.

The Khaenri'ahn sighs, the words of apology already at the tip of his tongue.

“I’d prefer it if we were to continue.”

“You would?”

“I can still change my mind.” He jests, seeing you beam from ear to ear.

Dainsleif slowly walks towards the fountain, sitting beside you and laying his head down on your shoulder. The gesture is surprising to the priest but it isn’t turned away.

“I hope you’re quite ready, Father. This might take a while.” He says with his eyes closed.

“Confess your regrets, my troubled one.”

Eventually, it becomes a habit of his to visit you whenever he’s plagued with thoughts that make him anxious and question his choices.

And each time, you’re there to give advice. To lend a shoulder, and sometimes a little more than that.

He will never worship a god, but he’ll sure as hell worship you.

Dainsleif always waits patiently in the last row, watching you and listening to how your voice sounded rather than the message you’re conveying.

It’s soothing, in a way.

He doesn’t say a thing and only waits as you walk down the aisle with a smile.

It’s a silent exchange.

You place your hand on his shoulder and Dainsleif rubs the side of his chin on your hand, his eyes shut. 

“Dainsleif.”

“Yes, Father?” He teases, a smirk forming on his face before opening his eyes.

Your fingers lift his head slightly before bending down to reach his soft lips. He doesn’t pull away, he presses them further as if it’s his salvation. 

It’s somewhat sick that he’s found comfort in someone like you. He contemplates whether he’s walking the path of failure that the gods have planned, if this whole thing will eventually turn over just to punish him even more.

In the end, it’ll all be his fault. He’s the one who revealed secrets that you’ve never asked for.

“You’re making that face again, Dain.” You speak.

“What face?”

“The kind you make when you’re overthinking things. The one I want to get rid of.”

Dainsleif reaches for your hand, asking even if he knows the answer. “Pray tell, how exactly?”

“It makes me wonder if it’s a turn on of yours to get fucked in a place of worship.”

“Like how it’s a turn on for you when I’m on my knees and calling you Father?”

You laugh, caressing his hair as you look down on him.

“You don’t even worship the God of this place.” He looks so sweet like that, his head between your legs. Such beauty ready to kneel for you and do whatever if you ask him kindly.

“What’s the need when I already worship you?” Dainsleif says and takes you in.

Dainsleif never imagined he’d gladly be spending his time inside of a chapel, right in front of empty seats where anyone can walk in through those wooden doors, acting as if the altar is your hips.

And yet he’s letting you use his mouth eagerly, so used to how you taste that sometimes he himself craves for it when you two are separated.

“That’s right, love. Just think of me.” 

He groans as you push further into his throat, his eyes wandering to you despite his breathing getting obstructed.

He loves the things you do. Whether it be hearing you talk so dearly to him, tugging his hair with the right amount of pull, or the way you fill his mouth nicely like this.

It’s yours.

The sound that escapes his throat when your foot presses directly on his crotch is loud and lewd, echoing through the empty chapel.

His cheeks lightly flush, grumbling something incoherent.

“Speak clearly, my lamb.”

He rolls his eyes at the mischievousness of your voice. You know he can’t, and yet you’re still asking him to do so.

He follows still, of course.

“M-Mo—ah!” 

Dainsleif chokes as he tries to speak.

“Too much for you?”

He shakes his head and tries again.

“Mow—Moah-”

It’s not working. He’s stuffed full to even say it.

“Come on,” Your foot steps on his cock again. “There’s another way to plead. I’m sure a smart devotee of mine can figure that out.”

His chest heaves, trying to calm his breathing from the pressure and whining as it stops.

That’s when Dainsleif moves of his own accord, taking you even deeper than you already were. You can feel the vibrations from when he slowly pants, breathing through his nose more so he won’t pass out.

He bats his eyelashes at you, with a face full of sin.

Tears are starting to form in his eyes.

Please.

Dainsleif gags on your cock again, moaning impurely when your foot begins to knead more aggressively on his pants.

Your shoe adds even more stimulation and his cock aches wanting, no, begging for a release.

“Such a sinful body, no wonder the gods haven’t been blessing you.”

Fuck.

He continues to whimper, sucking your cock needily and knowing you’ll stop if he doesn’t do well.

“You get on your knees to be a slut, I wonder if they’ve bruised already.”

They do. They always do when you fuck his throat like this.

His mind is hazy and he’s close, he’s so—

“Hmgh!—”

“Not yet. Be patient.”

His body wants to buck down when you remove the pressure just seconds before he cums, but your hold on his head keeps him from doing that and he’s left to whine painfully.

The tears in his eyes finally fall and he stares up at you to be merciful, to let him have this one since it’s been a month of waiting to finally have you get him off like this.

“You want it?”

He nods and whines, begging for you to hear him out.

“Alright.”

When he gets permission, he sobs out on your cock, cumming inside in his own pants and soiling the floor. You feel how warm his breath is, his body is tired and trembling, but he keeps trying to make you finish as if it’s the only thing he’s made for. Even if he’s barely doing it well, too drunk with his tongue tired already.

The sight of that is enough to get you off.

Dainsleif tries to swallow but he doesn’t do it fully, cum dripping down his chin and coughing on the amount he can’t.

He finds it a waste that he isn’t able to. He stares, wondering if he should clean it up.

“Dain, it’s fine. You did amazing.”

His heart softens.

“Let me help you out, love.”

His head rests on your lap, your fingers playing with his hair. A tradition that you two somehow have ended up doing each time you finish.

He thinks it’s sweet and funny that you act so soft despite the things you say when having sex.

“Tell me.” You say.

“Tell you what?”

“What’s bothering you?” You question.

Dainsleif only snickers at that.

It’s you, Father.

[carboysandbikemen]

Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x

Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝

Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!

Good Luck Charm

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬

Word count: 3,142

The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.

Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.

Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.

Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.

"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.

When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.

You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.

When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.

He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"

"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"

You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.

"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"

"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.

He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.

"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."

You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.

"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.

"Always."

He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.

"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"

You put the cap on your head.

"And what do you have in mind hmm?"

"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.

"Why did you come here alone?"

"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.

He doesn't move.

"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."

He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.

"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.

You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.

"Yes?"

"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.

"Please what, little one?"

He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.

"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.

"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.

Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.

Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.

"We should stop this."

"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.

"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.

"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.

He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.

"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."

"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.

"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.

As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.

"Leave them on."

He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.

"Did you tease me on purpose?"

"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.

"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"

"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."

"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.

"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."

He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.

When he gets between your legs he stops.

"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."

He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.

Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.

"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.

"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.

"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.

"Can I take them off?"

"No."

He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.

"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."

With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.

"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.

"Please what?"

"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.

You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.

"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."

With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.

"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."

He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.

He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.

The thought makes you almost ready to go again.

"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."

He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.

"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.

"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."

You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.

Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.

You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.

"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"

You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.

His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.

"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.

He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.

You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.

"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.

"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"

"Yeah, I can daddy."

"Good girl."

Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.

You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.

Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.

You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.

It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.

He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.

It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.

Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.

"You're so tight mi amor."

You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.

It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.

You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.

It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.

He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.

"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.

"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."

He huffs out a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."

"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.

"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."

You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.

[earlronove]

LIFE ETERNAL & BEYOND

Forevermore has finished and all its chapters have been posted publicly! (You can also purchase an ebook or pdf version of the whole thing together with an additional bonus story!) I wanted to take a moment to talk about it since I don't usually do that and I feel like there is opportunity to discuss what went into this. So, read on if you're curious!

I'm no stranger to supplementary materials with my games. Star Stealing Prince had short stories and two sequels (following both the good and bad endings) as web novels (the total word count for both sequels are over 200,000 words!). All are still readily available for anyone to read and will remain so no matter how old or rushed the writing may be at this point. Both of those were a product of the time they were written and while sometimes I look back and regret I did not give Permanence (the good ending sequel) the attention it sorely needed, I don't think I have it in me to try again.

So, upon saying that, Forevermore was kicking around in my head shortly after I finished Life Eternal. Probably even before. It deals with the necromancer, now named Nezael because I couldn't think of a good way to leave him unnamed (we can imagine the first thing Yorick says upon raising is his name, probably the first to say it in a long time), and his chance meeting with Yorick and how that drew the poor man to becoming a skeleton you find outside his room in the original game.

Originally, he was a riff on the classic Shakespeare line from Hamlet: "Alas, poor Yorick!" because how could I not? But then after much prompting, I added journal entries for the skeletons. That made me think a little more. Why would this skeleton be outside the Necromancer's room? Clearly, a bodyguard then perhaps? Then I added the question the Necromancer asks his lord while cleaning the great hall: "Why the man who had been friendly with me while he still had so much life left in his eyes? […] Perhaps you were jealous of him when he had his skin." All of that finally led to what his journal entry became:

"Yorick was the first skeleton I made all on my own. In his living life, he was a woodsman for the town close to us and I met him while I was gathering herbs for my Lord. I didn't think he'd be my first skeleton, but then my Lord made it so. From his flesh body, I miss his blue eyes the most, I think. Yorick was always kind to me and looked after me when I forgot to do it myself. Sometimes I wonder if it's because he's fully my skeleton and magic compels him to do so, or perhaps he remembers still the friends we'd been in those sunny patches in the forest. In any case, I wish for his companionship back."

By this time, the ideas had truly taken root and I decided I wanted to explore what I had written in the journal entry in Forevermore. It allowed me to also play with Nezael's lord, Carrow (as his name became because it was too awkward using "his lord" all the time) and see how creepy I could make him. People certainly picked up he was not a good guy in Life Eternal, which I was glad about because I worried I was too subtle, and writing this allowed me to explore his character more. Especially in how he changes toward Nezael in the bonus story. It's very deliberate and I hope it comes across as such.

Writing Forevermore, however, changes some of the intent behind the Necromancer's words. He knows why his lord chose Yorick. Such is what happens when ideas shift and adjust between projects. Life Eternal was made in thirty days without much thought of what came after or before. It made for much better drama, however, if Nezael knew exactly why his lord chose Yorick out of the rotting bodies hidden in the forest and so I leaned into it. There is no indication how much time there is between Forevermore and Life Eternal, but that is partly by design. The Necromancer in Life Eternal has clearly gone through a few cycles of raising his lord and going into a slumber afterward, so there's no telling how many times he's done this in the dilapidated tower or how much of it was his own actions or simply those willed by his lord upon giving Nezael his circlet. One regret I have is after reading Forevermore, people might wonder why the heck Nezael would ever raise Carrow. I'm not quite sure of the answer myself yet, but that's why there's an undetermined amount of time between the end of Forevermore and Life Eternal. Please understand, stories grow the more you water them and sometimes, you decide not to prune the bits that don't quite fit because you happen to like how it grew out.

As a result of not quite fitting, part of me does want to go back to readjust some of Life Eternal's dialogue to better reflect the past Forevermore created for the Necromancer, but I'm already treading water with Star Stealing Prince's remake, I don't want to add another game to that list. While I may yet explore the events around the flashbacks and what ultimately breaks Nezael into the Necromancer he becomes in Life Eternal, the game is finished and it will remain so. I COULD always just novelize Life Eternal but I fear since Nezael is literally alone for most of the story, people might find it boring. Something to think about!

Of course, after I finished Forevermore, I still had a few ideas I had not yet explored and there was one more skeleton I had not written about because he came after Yorick. So, that's why there is a bonus story with the compiled ebook and pdf versions of the novella. It was fun to imagine what happens shortly after the novella and before the game, especially to show how Nezael changes from the beginning of Forevermore to where you find him in Life Eternal. There are still flashbacks I could expand upon if I want, but that might be for another time. There are also ideas for what happens after Nezael leaves the tower with the skeletons after Life Eternal and I wouldn't have those ideas if I hadn't decided to write Forevermore and expand on what Yorick meant to Nezael.

In any case, developing stories is a process. Life Eternal came together in 30 days for a jam, but planning the prequel allowed me to dig deeper into the characters I had fashioned as quick as I could. Writing its prequel was a good exercise for me as well as it challenged me to write things I may not write very often (for example, I don’t really do romance, but I wanted that for Nezael and Yorick so chapter 5 was a nice exercise). And most importantly, it's fun to let ideas gradually unfurl in your mind to the point you just have to write more in that world.

I hope you have enjoyed reading Forevermore and also enjoyed playing Life Eternal. Here's hoping for many more projects from me!

[kpostedsum]

only you

draco malfoy x reader, harry potter x reader

summary: when harry asks you to get closer to a specific someone, what happens if you get too close?

based off this tiktok

song: dark red - steve lacy

a/n: there is infidelity in this fic whomppp and not edited

masterlist | taglist

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

I don't know it but I feel it comin'

Might be so sad, might leave my nose running

the sky was gloomy on your way to hogwarts, everyone was on edge with the return of voldemort. you stayed with harry, ron and hermione all throughout the summer at the burrow preparing for your sixth year.

“he has to be a deatheater, his father is in azkaban so it makes sense if voldemort would have made him a deatheater in his fathers place” your boyfriend harry tried to explain to ron and hermione. you have to admit, he could have a point— however, no matter how bad draco is you didn’t want to think that of a sixteen year old boy. “well how do you suppose we find out?” asked ron as he awaited an answer from everyone.

“i have a plan but i don’t suppose harry would be too fond of it” hermione said with a waver in her voice. “since y/n comes from a respectable pureblood family, perhaps she can get closer to draco and confirm our suspicions for us—”

“absolutely not. i don’t want y/n any where near malfoy, who knows how dangerous he is” harry said defensively. you have to admit, hermiones plan is smart and is probably the most realistic one there is.

“it’s okay harry” you soothed him. “i’ll be fine, hermiones plan makes the most sense” you said.

“so what’s the plan?”

I just hope she don't wanna leave me

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong with you, and only you, baby

“love, i still don’t think this is a good idea, what if you get hurt?” harry said as you two were cuddled on his bed together in the boys dorm, basking in each others warmth and security.

“he won’t hurt me harry, he’s a boy just like you— i’m sure if he is a deatheater he isn’t handling it as well as you think. i’ll be okay” you said. a soft silence stilled between the two of you as you enjoyed being wrapped up in your boyfriends arms, occasionally rubbing your nose against his just to hear his giggle that you love so much.

“i’ve just lost a lot of people, i don’t want you to be one of them. if something were to happen to you i’d light the world on fire and never let a flame touch you, just to keep you safe.” he said with a certain look of truth, loyalty and despair swimming in his eyes as he looked at you.

“i’m not going anywhere harry, i promise. i love you, only you” was the last thing you said before the both of you fell asleep, body parts tangled with eachother.

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

it’s been 3 days since that night with harry, and since then you’ve been trying to get closer to draco, but every time you tried he seemed to disappear. tonight you decided you’d wander outside of the slytherin common room in hopes of him showing up.

“what are you doing here, don’t you belong with the other gryffindors and saint potter?”

there he was. the voice you’ve been waiting to hear all week.

“i’ve grown quite bored of them right now, i figured i need a little excitement in my life. which is exactly why i am here, wandering outside the slytherin common room hoping there’s someone here to cure my boredom.” you said trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“get to the point y/n” he said walking closer to you. “what do you really want? is potter not fulfilling your needs anymore?” he smirked as he backed you against the wall, caging your frame beneath his.

“harry and i are fine, thank you very much” you rolled your eyes. “he’s just too busy right now”

“so you think i’m the cure to your boredom” draco said raising his brows, curious as to where this conversation is leading too.

“i know you’re the cure to my boredom.”

Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

Why I feel this way I don't know maybe

I think of her so much it drives me crazy

I just don't want her to leave me

you and draco have been hanging out every night since that day. some days he’d be there and you’d both talk until the sun rise, and others he wouldn’t show.

you knew you had to ask him about it soon for harry’s sake but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, atleast not tonight.

“what do you mean you haven’t found out yet? you’ve been spending almost every night with him— which you could be spending with me by the way, and you still found out nothing about him. what do you even do then?” harry exclaimed, clearly frustrated over the lack of information and the fact that his girlfriend has been hanging out with the enemy.

“i can’t just straight up ask him harry!” you say a bit louder than intended. “he has to trust me first, and how can i build that trust with him if we don’t hang out. all we do is talk, i promise.” you said, your voice softening as you weren’t in the mood to argue with your boyfriend right now.

“can we just go to sleep please, i miss you” you pleaded.

“yeah, yeah we can” he said pulling you towards him in his bed, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck inhaling his scent. a scent that used to be so familiar but you can feel being replaced.

“it’s only me right?” he asked staring towards his ceiling.

“yes harry, it’s only you. i love you.” you said reassuring him, but also reassuring yourself.

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong with you and only you, baby

“draco, can i ask you something” you asked looking towards him as he sat on the other side of you looking at the stars on from the astronomy tower.

“what is it?” he responded.

“how come sometimes you don’t show up, some days i’ll sit here waiting for you to show up and you never do. i miss you” you said softly, hoping you can get some information out of him.

“it’s cute that you miss me, i’d be lying if i said sometimes i didn’t miss your presence as well.” he said turning towards you and sending you a smirk. crawling over to him and resting your head on his shoulder, you relaxed against him.

“you know i don’t think you’re as bad as harry makes you out to be” you admitted. it’s true though, harry makes him out to be someone vain, however you find his presence comforting. you look forward to the nights you spend with him, more than you’d like to admit. “you’re quite nice when you want to be and are really good company” you explained.

“oh yeah?” he turned to you.

“yeah” you nodded. “i think harry is blinded by hate, he doesn’t know i’ve been hanging out with you and i’m sure if he were to find out he’d think you’re hurting me.” you partly lied.

“but i don’t think you could hurt me even if you tried” you said peering up at him with a soft smile and big genuine eyes. he adored the sight but he’d never admit it.

“i dont think your boyfriend would appreciate you talking about him like this to his enemy, now would he love?” draco said with a smirk. he knew over the past few weeks you’ve been hanging out your love for harry has been fading, even if you haven’t seen it yourself.

“draco” you said breaking the soft silence. “i have something to confess”

“well what is it?” he said, turning towards you giving you his full attention.

“do you think it’s wrong for someone to feel something for someone they’re not supposed to feel for” you asked, staring into his stormy grey eyes.

“i feel like i should feel guilty, but i don’t. if anything i feel safe.” you continued.

“what do you mean by that?” draco asked, taking his hand and slowly caressing your cheek encouraging you to continue.

when he touched you it felt as if the stars were dancing across your skin. you haven’t felt that way with harry in a while. it felt as if you could be anything in the world, and for some reason, you wanted to be his.

“is it wrong that when i’m with you, i get the same feeling i used to feel with him” you asked. “i mean, for some reason i can’t seem to stay away from you, and i don’t think i want too. i feel safe with you”. you said softly, hoping he understood what you meant.

“i used to think i was crazy meeting up with you every night, but i think it’s the best decision i’ve ever made.” he expressed. “you’ve become something i look forward too everyday, someone i seek out in crowds without even realizing it. i don’t think i want to stay away from you either” he finished.

the air stilled between you two, the only sounds heard were the soft winds of the night.

“draco… can i kiss you?” you asked.

“if you do, i don’t think i’d be able to stop” he confessed.

“and what if i don’t want you to stop” you said leaning closer and pressing your lips against his.

his lips were soft. slightly cold but it was addictive. kissing him felt so good, you might have even forgot how to breathe, but breathing wasn’t important in that moment.

“i’ve waited— i’ve waited so long for this, but i didn’t want to ruin what you and saint potter had” he said as he pulled you to straddle his lap and you pressed harsh kisses against his neck, craving to feel him.

“you didn’t ruin a thing” you said in between kisses. “i ruined it the day i decided to seek you out outside your common room” you continued breaking the kiss.

“i’m glad you did” he said resting his forehead against yours.

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

whatever you had going on with draco continues for months, hidden kisses between classes and tangled limbs in his bed at night.

the only problem was harry.

“as much as i’d love to brag about stealing potters girlfriend to everyone, i don’t think i can do that” draco said as you both laid in bed together in each others embrace.

“i know, but i can’t leave him yet. it’s just not the right time” you said turning to face him.

“i know” he said turning towards you. “if anything, i enjoy sneaking around with you” he says as he presses light kisses to your neck.

“what are you thinking about” he asks as he notices you’re not paying attention to him.

“harry’s probably wondering where i am, i should probably go to him” you said sadly.

“just be back tomorrow, alright?”

“i’ll always come back to you draco, i promise” you said pressing a kiss to his lips and heading to the gryffindor common room.

What if she's fine

It's my mind that's wrong

And I just let bad thoughts

Linger for far too long

“you’ve been out quite a bit haven’t you” ron said as you entered the common room. his eyes, hermione’s and harry’s eyes all on you.

“i’ve just been trying to get the information you wanted from him” you lied as you took a seat next to hermione.

“we’ll have you gotten anything?” she asked

“no, i haven’t. i don’t think hes a deatheater, i mean it’s been months since i’ve been hanging with him— he would have told me by now” you explained.

“what do you mean he doesn’t trust you, all you do is be with him and stare at each other in class. i wouldn’t be surprised if he had a bloody crush on you by now” harry said quite aggressively.

“we only talk, i’ve told you that already” you said sternly even though it was a lie.

“how about we all go to sleep and discuss this in the morning, it’s quite late” ron said trying to diffuse the tension.

“i agree, it’s too late and none of us are thinking straight” hermione added on to ron’s statement and going straight to the girls dorm, ron going to the boys dorm.

Don't you give me up, please don't give up

Honey, I belong, with you, only you, baby

you and harry were left in the common room alone, the sound of fire crackling becoming more evident and loud as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“i’m sorry for lashing out like that” he said breaking the silence. “i know you and malfoy have nothing going on, i guess i’ve just missed you.”

“i missed you too harry” you said looking over to him.

“c’mere” he said tugging you towards him so you sit on his lap. “i love you, y’know. i don’t think i’d be able to do any of this without you” he continued looking into your eyes with a look of desperation of love.

a look you couldn’t return.

“i love you too harry, only you.” the lies came out your mouth before you could even stop them.

“only you, i promise.”

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you

-

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

[xjustlikeyou]

The TAI/Midtown Aftershow

This is what I wrote when I got home re: the VIP experience of the Aftershow

Feel free to message/ask if you want clarification about anything because most of it is not even full sentences. It was just things I didn't want to forget.

(Also if someone has a better memory than me and has the actual Midtown set list - hit me up)

———

TAI soundcheck -

We were really late going in. Jon posted the pic of TAI soundchecking while we were all still in a line outside and we were all like ???? (Also this venue loved lines. We started in one, then went to another, then went to a third, fourth, and fifth).

We were kept in the venue for a bit and heard all of About A Girl in the stairwell before they let us in.

We walked in to everyone on stage but Will who walked in as we were filtering in and was so fucking bashful. I was directly in front of Will (and somehow survived).

"I left and went to the bathroom and came back and there's all these people here! How did that happen?"

They were all so fucking happy and playful and joking and teasing and complimenting each other which made my heart so happy. I legit never thought I'd see them together again - much less SO HAPPY. They were all so appreciative and I still can't believe it happened.

I think Carden talked the most out of all of them. Partly because Sisky didn't have a microphone unless he stole someone's which he did a few times.

After the first couple takes:

The butcher - “this takes the edge off”

Mike - “yeah!! It should always be like this. Like a soft opening. This is great. I love this.” 

Will - “Agreed. But it’s more, well more like a warm…no. It’s not. I’ve made it weird.”

I’ve already gotten so overwhelmed I forgot all that we saw

I know Big Mess, some of LAX, Bulls in Brooklyn, About A Girl again, Phase maybe? Def one or two from Almost Here. At one point they were going to do verse and a chorus of a song and we and Will kept going into the second before trailing off. Will shrugging and kinda giggling - "well, we all just got so excited - I forgot we were stopping."

GABE WATCHING THEM the whole time.  - Hugs all around and x2 for Will. He's so fucking proud of them. And supportive. Everyone deserves a hype person like he is for them. Jesus. I have so many feelings.

Mike (roughly): "So, uh. We've been rehearsing for this for a week now. It's really good to be doing it for people other than ourselves. I mean, Gabe flew in and sat on the ground and watched - he's actually over there still watching - and he said we were good but...ya know. We're glad you're here."

Will immediately starting to walk towards Gabe to get his hugs and then coming back, "Shhhh, he's not supposed to be here. It'll be our secret, okay?" DEAD. SO DEAD.

Fucking incredible vocals - Will sounded so so so good. They all did but I just. SO GOOD.

Ian being Ian - had his slide and wanted to play fancy things and was adorable

Sisky not having a microphone - "Yeah, why don't you?" "I don't know where it went." "We can get - " "NO NO NO no microphone."

Snakes on a plane - fan try outs - Sisky leading with Carden and everyone ragging on Gabe (who refused to come out but did pretend to take notes on everyone's performance). They pulled 3 people from the crowd to try out for the rap. Completely impromptu supposedly. Mike kept stressing they had not planned on doing this. But Sisky kept saying it'd been 17 years and he still hasn't figured out how to play bass and rap and was not going to try.

Will's panicked little "wait, what mic are they going to use? This one's mine" and cradled it to his chest broke me.

Sisky said it was going to be crowd participation but also sort of chose himself too.

Will had tea and was very precious about it.

“I’m warming up and so are you”

To go from shy and awkward to chills and just pure happiness

THAT MAN BELONGS ON A STAGE ALWAYS. 

The protect trans live pin. I’M STILL NOT OVER IT. 

Legit we all got chills halfway through just because it was so special and actually happening and none of us could believe it. Will literally rubbed his arm in the middle of a song and called it out and just ugh.

At one point, he did this little mic catch, looked at Gabe, did it again, and was just so proud of himself.

Mike constantly ragged on Gabe and it was the best.

Mike: “So I blocked an extra hour for Midtown’s soundcheck because Gabe needs it. You think you need 2 hours of vocal warm-ups? I think you do."

“Is it 7:30 yet? I promised Gabe we’d be off by then.”

It legit felt like a performance minus the stopping and adjusting and it was just so relaxed and so happy and I - it was worth everything I paid for and more.

---

(We start the very slow process of waiting to meet the TAI boys and get to see the beginning of Midtown’s soundcheck) 

Meeting them - all of them were so so so so nice and it’s so fucking overwhelming to have all of them right there talking to you at the same time. I was shaking violently and the security guard was trying to calm me down LOL. "Mike's an ass! He's just a dude. They're all just dudes. It's going to be great. Just breathe." Easy for you to say, sir.

They were all very lovely and immediately tried to calm me down but somehow being circled by them all IS NOT CALMING. I thanked Will for wearing the pin and shared what their music/scene has done for me and DIDN'T CRY. so yay. Success. I felt a lil bad because I turned and had started to talk to Will (to thank him) and Carden immediately turned to Sisky to talk amongst themselves before looking surprised that I was addressing/thanking all of them and they were all so fucking sweet. I can't. I love them all so much.

But it was so fucking overwhelming that I nearly walked directly into Gabe who was still soundchecking out on the venue floor almost 2 hours later. You def can’t say he doesn’t care. He legit moved out of my way and I went to stand back in line and the person I was next to was like "....you nearly took out Gabe, you know that?" FML. Sorry, man. I WAS SHOOK. The person who took photos I thought took two but turns out she takes them the whole time so I have 7 photos and all of them are embarrassing. But I'm glad to have 'em.

We got a TAI...tote with a signed lanyard card thing and a sticker of the new logo and the gabilliam poster.

We got sent to wait in another line which ended up being so long we just stayed and they scanned our tickets and we could go in from there after we got our merch. We got to see Jon soundcheck and some people called out Happy Birthday. That fucker started to play Sins just to see us all whip around and laughed. He teased a few other songs bc he's Jon.

--------

Jwalk

He started early and people were still coming in. I felt really bad for him because everyone was talking to the point it was hard to hear him over the chatter. I was getting seriously annoyed because he's got a beautiful voice and his songs are bops and it was really cool to see them live.

"I actually borrowed this acoustic from Siska and it has cobwebs in it."

Someone near me aggressively yelled happy birthday to him again and Jon was all "uh, thank you? Happens every year." And moved on.

He played most of his recent stuff and was so good

—————

MIDTOWN

Gabe crediting tyler with midtown coming back and then my chem:

Gabe - “so mikey called and said can you play some shows?

I said we suck, bro.

And mikey said ‘so practice’

And here we are.

Talked twice about not remembering why he stopped touring until he wakes up the next morning and remembers he’s “an old fart with a bad back”

His kid’s roblox - took a picture /video of the crowd with it. "My 3 year old asked me to bring his roblox with so I don't forget him so I'm taking a picture of it with each crowd, is that okay?"

Tyler immediately: "Yeah, none of that is true. He just bought that."

They were so happy and so grateful and bantering back and forth and just so appreciative.

Played over their time by 2 songs - “We’re out of time? Fuck it. Let's keep going."

“On our last Midtown tour - we toured with the academy is and struck up a friendship that will last forever. Like for real. The type of friendship that continues on even after we’re dead. I love those dudes so much.”

DEDICATED TWO SONGS TO THEM. A Faulty Foundation and No Place Feels Like Home. 

“Whose going to riot fest tomorrow? Sorry. We’re playing the exact same set there tomorrow. Deal with it. We’ve only got so many songs. Forgive us.” 

“The my chem tour - 98.5% of the people there won’t know who we are. Obviously you guys are amazing and do know us but we wanted a song that everyone and maybe even their parents knew and could have a good time with so Tyler had written one once and it’s finally time to play it” - Tyler talked about a writing session that went bad then played When You Were Young. 

They were so good!! Gabe's bass broke halfway through. And two songs before the end he said he'd lost his voice and kinda took a step back vocally

Rough set list:

Become What You Hate

Like A Movie

??? (I forgot what came next) 

Just Rock N Roll

Get It Together

When We Were Young

So Long as We Keep Our Bodies Numb We're Safe

A Faulty Foundation - dedicated to the TAI 

To Our Savior 

No Place Feels Like Home (Also dedicated to TAI…)

Empty Like The Ocean

Give It Up 

————

TAI… absolutely fucking incredible from start to finish. It literally felt like no time had passed at all.

GABE. GABE COMING OUT FOR CLASSIFIEDS  - unplanned. Surprise. Will flustered AF.  MORE HUGS FOR MIKE AND WILL. 

AJ and Mike for Attention - hugs after all around.

SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE

Will being so bashful and appreciative and stumbling over his words and I cannot with him.

I don’t understand how they’re not a bigger band. 

They’re so fucking amazing.

I have no complaints. Would have changed nothing besides the fact it had to end.

I hope someone gets the setlist together bc I can’t.  (Edit: They did) 

Set List: 

The Phase That Pays

About A Girl 

Slow Down

LAX to O’Hare

Season

Sleeping with Giants (Lifetime)

Classifieds (WITH SURPRISE GABE CAMEO)

Bulls in Brooklyn

Black Mamba

Very 1st Lie (Cover of Material Issue’s song - a local Chicago band active in the 90s) 

Attention w/ AJ and Mike D

Big Mess

Checkmarks

After the Last Midtown Show

Encore: 

Snakes on a Plane

———

Legit, I will never regret having flown out here to do this. I didn't think the Projekt Rev 07 tour could ever be toppled from my fav concert of all time but this did it. I will never forget this.

[bookishofalder]

Rainy Days

Spencer x Reader

Request: @starwithoutdarkness - Hey! I heard you were looking for requests! Maybe Spencer Reid x reader fake dating fluff? Combined with Request: @paulaern  - Hello!  What about Spencer Reid x reader when they realizes they love each other? Like reader makes something for Spencer and he thinks like "I can't deny anymore, I'm completely and hopeless in love with her" or something like that  (G!neutral if you want)

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in requests! Hope this makes you smile!

Warnings: Swearing, moderate BAU violence, creepy men, fluffiest fluff, intense headache description. Set randomly post prison Reid but Hotch is still there because he should have been! WC-2,488

Spencer was staring at the geo-profile he had been working on all day, very glad to be inside. The weather in Seattle had stayed consistently rainy for the two days the BAU team had been in town assisting in catching a killer, who had been committing serial robberies/murders with no apparent rhyme or reason. And while Spencer didn’t mind the rain, he did mind loud, busy cities. Combined, they usually led to a headache that would take a day or two to recover.

The door to the conference room he was working alone in burst open and slammed shut so suddenly he nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to see-

You.

Spencer hated it when you appeared without warning, catching him entirely off guard and presenting the risk that you would notice the visible effort it took for him to compose himself around you.

While he’d noticed how beautiful and hilarious and empathetic you were the moment you joined the team, he’d fallen in love with you when you had your first case with them. Spencer had begun to ramble about the specifics of casinos, and how ‘beating the house’ was nearly impossible, when the rest of the team had tuned out. A temporary member, Agent Seaver, had sneered ‘I’m sorry I asked.” Effectively shutting him up. But then you had turned in your seat next to him and, after shooting Seaver a look had asked him to continue. And though he didn’t have that much more to say, and it wasn’t all that interesting, you listened to every single word and thanked him.

It had been years since that had happened, your friendship had blossomed into best friends, something Spencer cherished immensely. This was partly why he shoved his feelings down. The relationship did not need to change for Spencer to remain happy; as long as he got to spend time with you at work, or watch movies and make tent forts in his living room. And visit his mom (who adored you and always gave you book recommendations that you would be sure to read the moment you could), or go to comic conventions and museums...yes, as long as he could always do those things with you, he was happy.

No need to risk changing a perfect thing.

Now though, you were shutting the door and giving him your most panicked look, wide-eyed, with your hair damp from the rain you no doubt had run through to get inside, accounting for your breathlessness. If it weren’t for the worry that had sprung up inside of him upon seeing your expression, he would have fixated on how beautiful you looked at that moment.

“Spencer, you’re my boyfriend.” You whisper yelled at him, quickly stepping closer and setting your bag down on the conference table.

“Wha-“ He began, but you cut him off frantically.

“I’ll explain-just, oh fuck-“

Spencer stood frozen to the spot as the door reopened and one of the senior detectives sauntered in, a friendly smile somewhat overshadowed by the almost predatorial glint in his eyes. You awkwardly stepped closer to Spencer, raising a hand in hello.

“Agent (Y/L/N), great to see you’re back, I was hoping to catch you before the end of the day!” He said merrily, placing two hands on the back of the nearest chair. Something about the way his hands gripped the chair made Spencer feel...on edge.

You gave the fakest little giggle Spencer had ever heard from you, “Oh, nice to see you too Detective! Just had to catch up with Agent Reid here...”

When his eyes moved from you to assess Spencer briefly, he felt a protective force rear up, instincts entirely at alert. Without hesitating, he casually draped an arm over your shoulder, brushing some hair back as he did, and replied, “And you promised we could get some coffee from the Starbucks down the road, hon.”

He enjoyed the way your cheeks flushed and noticed the pulse in your neck pick up. You glanced up at him, trying to look coy but he knew you too well and could see you were partly surprised, and also trying not to laugh.

“Um, of course, I nearly forgot, babe, let’s go in about 5-unless, did you need something specific, Detective?” She broke off to glance back at the now scowling man, who gave an annoyed jerk of his head before stomping back out of the room.

Once the door banged closed behind him, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, raising a hand to your face in dismay.

Spencer hadn’t removed his arm yet, “I’m assuming I just helped you avoid being asked out, but why-?”

“Uhg, Spencer, I’ve already turned him down TWICE since we’ve arrived! He’s literally the kind of dude who doesn’t take no for an answer unless another man has some fucking misogynistic claim over the woman!” You exclaimed, before moving to stand right in front of Spencer and lean just your head to his chest, staring down at the floor, “I hate everything.”

Spencer laughed, patting your back softly, but internally making note that he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere alone for the rest of this case-that detective gave him the creeps. And while you were beyond capable of protecting yourself, he just knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything if he thought you could be hurt.

“Well, just so we’re clear I would never want to be called ‘babe’ in a relationship.” He joked and the desired effect was his immediate reward when you lifted your head and giggled-your genuine, beautiful little giggle-and then grinned.

“Spencer, you called me ‘hon’ like we were 70.”

Spencer considered a moment, “We could be, you’ll be Gladys and I’ll be-“

“Winston!” You supplied eagerly, and he frowned at you, trying not to laugh.

“Winston?”

“It’s really very dignified, the kind of name where people call you ‘sir’.” You replied cheekily, and while Spencer grinned, a part of him felt a swoop of pleasure when your lips formed the word ‘sir’.

He decided very quickly that he liked the idea of you calling him that. And then, just as swiftly dismissed that train of thought and chastised himself.

As you both stood together and laughed, the door swung open and Hotch and the team followed him in, all in various stages of the results of exposure to the rain, looking equally grim. Spencer and you abruptly stopped when you saw their expressions and launched back into work mode seamlessly.

———

Two days later, the team was closing in on the unsub and everyone was on high alert. Taking the profile and applying it to the geo-profile he had been working on, Spencer had narrowed down this grubby old apartment that sat above a nightclub as the most likely spot the unsub was staying at. Of course, they were arriving at night which meant the club was busy and loud, people lined up out the doors waiting for their chance to enter, pay too much for a drink and grind their bodies against strangers.

Spencer’s headache from the unforgiving rain was thrumming now with the music that seemed entirely unencumbered by the walls of the stairwell, the team slowly climbing. It was bad enough that his eyes narrowed somewhat, but he didn’t lose focus.

You were behind him, watching his six as Hotch and Morgan approached the door ahead and prepared to breach. Spencer slipped a hand behind his back and, on cue, you’re pinky wrapped with his. A brief promise to each other, ‘I’ve got you.’.

They had anticipated violence and heavy arms, so when their announcement was met with silence and the door was kicked open, the tactical response was to secure positions and carefully proceed. Agents and SWAT members lined the building and were, at that moment, securing the club below to ensure the unsub couldn’t flee into a room full of potential hostages.

Spencer and you were the third pair to enter, quickly moving ahead of the others to secure more rooms, eyes peeled for movement. The floor was covered in litter and random spots of dirt and dried substances. It smelled like body odour and axe body spray-which immediately went to Spencer’s headache and caused it to throb in protest.

“Freeze!”

You had shouted right as Spencer noticed the movement from a back room down the hall, as the unsub leaned out and, not abiding by the command, opened fire. Spencer grabbed you and swung you both behind the wall of the kitchen, out of the line of fire while he shouted the unsubs location.

You recovered quickly, dropping to the ground and leaning out to return fire as Hotch and Morgan ran across to the living room to join the battle. It only took a few moments after that before Morgan managed to get a shot to the suspect's shoulder and he fell with a cry of anguish.

You popped up from the ground, watching as Prentiss and Rossi moved forward to secure the man, and barked into your radio for medics to come in.

Spencer, meanwhile, was reeling. When the shots in the room had all joined together in a cacophony, sound and noise piercing his skull, it had converted to pain and panic in his skull, overwhelming him. He had used his own body to shield yours when he pulled you with him into the wall, and the caution he took with you meant he hadn’t caught himself carefully enough, his head bouncing lightly off of the stone wall.

Which, on a normal day would have simply been annoying. But today, with a headache so severe he was beginning to get spots in his vision, it was detrimental. The scene was secure, so he allowed his eyes to shut, a meagre reprieve but at least it was something, at least he didn’t have to see the beams from the flashlights or the pulsing of the neon signs outside of the windows...

“Winston, take my hand.” Your voice was so, so soft. Spencer let his mouth open slightly, a small rush of air all he managed, trying to say ‘I can’t-it hurts, make it stop’ but you grasped his hand tightly and pulled and he followed, his other hand reaching and grabbing that back of your vest, he let you lead him.

He knew from the reduced foot traffic of agents and crime scene workers that you were taking the rear exit, a stairwell that was narrower than the main. He peeked through his lashes to take the stairs, and then suddenly, the cool night air hit him and the door was closing behind you both.

You kept walking with purpose, leading Spencer further away from the loud building. The rain spattered his face but with each step the noise reduced and after a short walk it became relatively quiet.

“Sit.” You murmured, halting. Spencer opened his eyes and saw that you had led him to the farthest spot in the parking lot from the building, where trees lined the lot along a community park that was probably utilized by vagrants and drug dealers more than families. But there was a bench, and you were waiting for him to take a seat. You had pulled out a compact, expandable emergency rain shield from one of the pockets on your FBI utility belt and tossed it on the bench, protecting you both from soaking your underwear.

Spencer sat, setting his elbows on his legs and leaning forward with his hands pressed to his face. He took deep, steadying breaths as you joined him, your hand on the back of his neck. At first, he thought you were just resting it there because his FBI vest would have prevented him from feeling your hand on his back, however, a moment later it was joined by your other hand and a very cold object.

Resisting the urge to pull away, he gasped at the contact, “What-?”

“On-the-go cold compress, Doctor.” You explained, leaving it in place and then rummaging again. Spencer wanted to look but the compress, combined with the quiet, was already doing wonders. He continued to take deep breaths.

“When you’re ready, try this.” You said softly, pressing something to his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw a mini flask that had his name written on the side.

He turned his head slowly so as not to move the compress and met your eyes, which were assessing him with concern. “(Y/N), when did we start drinking on the job?”

You giggled quietly, “It’s just water mixed with this like, vitamin powder that’s supposed to be good for rehydrating you quickly. I did some research on how to help headaches like yours on the go, just in case, and I made this ‘Spencer’ care bag.” You rambled a little when he didn’t reply.

Spencer looked back at the flask and opened it, quickly downing the contents. It tasted pretty fruity and he realized he was thirsty, this taking the edge off.

“Is it okay?” You asked. Spencer raised his head and met your eyes, searching them.

He was overwhelmed, the headache already fading, in its place an intensely warm feeling building inside of him as he considered the time and effort you had taken to care for him. He hadn’t asked you, or hinted, you had just taken it on to find a way to help him and you were right there when he needed you the most.

You had always been there when he needed you. When he had been shot protecting Blake, when he struggled to care for his mother, when he had gone to prison, when he was freed, you were there.

The words tumbled out, unable to be contained a second longer.

“I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Your mouth opened and closed in surprise, taken entirely off guard. Though he worried what you would say, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt having finally said it out loud. He watched patiently as your mind processed his confession, holding his breath.

“I-Spencer,” And then suddenly your lips were pressing into his and the pain from his headache ceased entirely. Spencer was consumed by the feel of you against him, of your hands holding his face and the hum of content you gave when he returned your passion, dropping his flask and sliding his hands up your neck, gripping tenderly.

After what could have been hours, weeks, or years, you both broke apart, pulling back just enough to make eye contact without your eyes crossing. Neither of you let go, your breath puffing out in wisps in the cold night air.

“I love you too,” You breathed, “I could grow old with you, Winston.”

Spencer laughed, relief and happiness swooping through him at your words, “Gladys, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.”

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

You grinned back at Spencer, and then he kissed you again.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 22 - Sci Fi

New part is here! Just a few more in this world. Just realized that it's been about 1 year since I've started this story. Wow.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

____________________________

The school was greatly relieved to hear that I had made a Connection and was no longer a danger to myself and others. They immediately rescinded my suspension and "encouraged" me to resume training with my new partner as soon as possible. I found the quick 180 amusing, but didn't argue.

It took multiple video calls with Alaira’s father to reassure him that everything was okay, and a few more to prevent him from throwing a parade for Liam to thank him for matching his daughter. His tears of joy at the news was a complicated moment for me.

I had felt a deep sense of joy, but it was an emotion that didn’t belong to me... it belonged to Alaira. Watching him celebrate his daughter’s recovery felt hypocritical, knowing that in the world that I hadn’t taken over, his daughter hadn’t had a good end. She had died alone and afraid, her mind fragmented.

But there was no way to tell him that.

The mission completion status on my communication device had risen quickly from 1% to 42%. Liam and I spent every waking moment together, talking, joking, and learning about each other. We practiced making the connection with the Mech, powering and controlling it now a smooth, painless process. It was natural, coming as easily to me as breathing. Working with him felt less like learning with a new partner as gaining back a missing part of me.

I was happy.

But not everyone was glad to hear we had matched.

Shortly after our match was made public, Liam and I were walking down the hallway after class, and were forced to stop by a young, angry woman blocking our path.

“It’s a lie!” Princess Ilene glared at Liam as she faced us down. “William can’t be a real Connector! He’s always been just a useless waste. He's a stain on the royal family!”

Liam seemed unfazed by his sister’s cruel words, as if he were used to it. The lack of reaction and the implications behind it made me even angrier. I stepped forward, hiding him partly behind me, and smiled pleasantly. My expression and pleasant tone obviously confused the princess, who took a step back.

“Ilene, Ilene, there’s just so much wrong with what you said… I don’t even know where to begin!” I shrugged. “ But, correcting idiocy IS my calling in life, so let me give it a shot:”

Ilene’s face was red with rage, but I ignored her incoherent sputtering, holding up a finger.

“First, Liam is capable of making the connection. He just had a strong barrier. Obviously it isn't impossible, or he and I wouldn’t be matched. “ I held up a second finger. “Secondly, and more importantly: even if he COULDN’T make the connection, he still wouldn’t be useless. He’s a kind, wonderful person, and that’s more than you can say about most Guardians or Connectors… present company included.”

“ How dare…” Princess Ilene took a step back. “What are you trying to say?”

I blinked, shocked “Oh, was I not being obvious enough? I don’t like you. I think Liam is a much better human being than you, and find it pitiful that you try to derive your self worth from putting him down.”

Liam stepped forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s ok…”

“No, its not. You don’t deserve for people to call you trash.” I felt emotional, as if something deep inside me was trying to break free.

“It’s always been like this.” He shrugged, “I’m used to being alone.”

____________________________

“Friends, family?”

The man in front of me was smiling at my question, but the expression was so sad it made me want to cry.

“None.” He twisted his hands in his lap, looking away. “I’m supposed to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Supposedly that’s my fate.”

____________________________

“You are not trash.” I tightened my grip on Liam’s hand. “ and you’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” He smiled, “Thanks.”

Princess Ilene spoke up, obviously tired of being ignored. “How dare you trample on Chris’s kindness and reject him for this tr…” She started to say the word “trash” but seeing my face, nervously trailed off and started again. “You don’t even know if you two have a high enough resonance match to ward off your mental degradation…!”

“We do. It’s gone.”

She paused, thrown by my matter of fact tone. “… But what if you’re a higher match with Chris…”

“Don’t care. I hate him.”

“… But…”

“You do bring up a good point, though.” I turned to Liam. “We should see what our resonance match rate is.”

He looked nervous. “What if it isn’t very high?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re already partners. I’m just curious.” I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s really high, and I’d love to use that to shut people up.”

He chuckled at that. “If it means that much to you to rub it into people’s faces...”

“It does.”

We walked towards the match center, leaving Princess Ilene stunned into silence behind.

____________________________

Liam got more anxious the closer we got to the match center. “You promise you won’t break our partnership if our match score is low?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t feel insulted at his questioning. I could feel his insecurity, the need for me to say out loud what he thought he knew. “Low or high, we’re partners. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” He sighed, grinning. “I like being stuck with you.”

Finally, we were facing the machine that had failed us both so many times. Irrationally, I felt a little nervous, the many prior failures of the past few weeks too fresh and painful to completely forget.

Liam stepped away from me, reaching out and placed his hands on the panel first.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly as the robotic rejection echoed loudly around the room; “I forgot your barrier is still around since it doesn’t effect me anymore.”

“Honestly, I had forgotten too.” He responded with a happy smile.

A crowd was starting to gather, curious at our actions. As more and more people realized what we were doing, I began hearing the whispering between them.

“Didn’t she go crazy?”

“...thought she couldn’t match?”

“He has a barrier? ...never could match.”

“I heard they already formed a connection.”

“Heard her dad is a general, spread the rumor of her matching so she wouldn’t get kicked out.”

“Isn’t she matched up with Chris?”

“Why are they here?”

I grabbed Liam’s hand again, feeling relieved when I felt his warm skin against my own. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He stared straight at me, ignoring the hostile words and gazes of the crowd. “You’re beside me, and that’s all that matters.”

I squeezed his hand in my own. A strong desire welled up within me to be worthy of the trust he gave me. I wanted to show everyone what Liam could do, the bond we had... but of course it couldn't be too easy.

“We just have to figure out how to get your barrier down enough for the machine to read you." I glanced down at my hand that was still holding his. "I mean, I’m touching you now, right? There’s no barrier between us?”

He stared down at our clasped hands, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yes, I feel you. I mean, no, there’s no barrier.”

“Good!" I gestured to the pad with my free hand. "Then why don't you try again while we're still touching each other?”

He placed his hand back on the machine.

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The machine's voice repeated itself calmly.

His hand fell away, frustrated. I could feel his anxiety, and worried deep down that I had made a wrong choice. I did this to reassure him that we are a good match. To shut up everyone saying that it's a made up story to justify the removal of my suspension. To prove to everyone that Liam isn't useless, even by their own stupid standards.

But none of this will happen if he can't use the machine.

I thought it over, and grinned as I came up with a plan. “Hmm… Well, there’s one other thing we can try…”

I leaned in and kissed him, grabbing his free hand with my own and placing it on the pad together. His breath caught in his chest and he froze in shock very briefly before kissing back. In that moment I almost forgot why I had kissed him in the first place, but the robotic voice quickly reminded me.

“Resonance match detected…. Scanning…. Resonance Frequency Match...100%.”

The voice had barely faded before there were shouts of shock from the crowd. The room descended into chaos at the announcement. I broke away from Liam, who was still distracted, and stared at him.

“Did that machine just say… we are a 100 PERCENT match? I didn’t even think that was possible!”

Liam blinked. “I’m sorry, I dinwhat did you say?”

“We’re a perfect match, Liam.” I laughed. “I knew this was a great idea!”

Definitely didn't completely doubt the plan halfway through... yep.

“So… no one can separate us then?” His body relaxed, and he reached out, pulling me against himself and hugging me tightly. I felt the trembling of his muscles and knew that the anxiety he had shown was only the tip of the iceberg. His true fears and insecurities were still well hidden, even from me.

I hugged him back, waiting for him to back away. The crowd’s murmuring were now a loud roar, as everyone discussed a match rate that most thought impossible to achieve. And there, in the back of the crowd, I saw a solitary figure standing there, watching us with a blank stare.

Chris.

I shuddered, holding Liam tighter. The first thing I had done when Liam and I announced our match was to report to the authorities Chris holding me in his room. I suspected him of drugging me as well, remembering the prick of the needle before falling unconscious.

I was laughed at.

“Why would a student with a crystal clear reputation go out of his way to kidnap a general’s daughter? He already had a match, a better one than his resonance with you if I recall. If anyone had motive to kidnap someone, it would be you to him!”

The words were cutting, made worse by the pity on their faces.

“It’s obvious: your mind was breaking down due to the strain without a Connector, and came up with this fantastical plot of being kidnapped.”

And despite my objections, the claim was dropped. I hadn’t seen Chris since the day we parted in his room.

Until now.

His gaze held mine. He was expressionless, watching us with a detached, almost clinical air. I would have almost thought he was bored, or at least uncaring about the situation in front of him… if not for his eyes…

His eyes were burning with rage.

I looked away first feeling an odd sense of familiarity, as if something similar had happened before.

____________________________

A few days later Liam and I had our first mock battle. Suspended together in the Connection chamber within the Mech, the constant physical and mental connection with Liam made operating the Mech much easier than it ever had been alone.

I fought with a sword, having abandoned the dual guns completely. I breathed a sigh of relief at the speed I could move at as I ducked under the enemy Mech’s attack. Turning with the spin of my dodge, I used the momentum and I swung around to slash the torso of our opponent with the sword.

“Nice hit!” Liam’s voice in my headset was excited. He was cheering me on along the way, spurring me to show off with more complex moves when possible, hoping to impress him.

I pressed the attack, slamming the Mech with the shoulder of ours, and kicking it to the ground before it could recover its balance. The movements were smooth, and my head was clear of any pain. The prior drain and discomfort of controlling the giant robot was completely gone.

As our opponent fell to the ground, I pressed the tip of the sword into the Mech’s neck. The referee called out our victory, and the crowd around the arena cheered, but it was just noise to me. All that mattered was Liam’s excited babbling in my ear.

“That was awesome! I’ve always wondered what it felt like to win a Mech fight, and it’s so much cooler than I ever imagined! This is great! When can we fight again?”

“Glad you had fun, Liam.” I laughed at the innocent delight in his voice. After the stress and pain I had experienced since waking up in this world, the uncertainty of who I was and why I was here, there was something simple and healing about being by Liam’s side.

I feel happy.

I was nervous about admitting it, even to myself, as if the simple acknowledgement of the positive emotion would be enough to destroy it. But I couldn’t deny it. I WAS happy.

After we had undocked and changed, Liam and I relaxed in the fighter’s lounge. Liam as always, had a container that he pulled out of a bag, opening it to reveal a slice of cake. I took it from him with a murmur of thanks, and after the first bite sighed with joy.

“I've been meaning to ask you: Where do you get this cake? It's obviously not from the school shop, it’s way too good!”

Liam smiled at the question. “I made it myself.” Usually more quiet and shy, he seemed very confident when it came to matters such as food. The change in his attitude was something I loved to see.

“Really? You made it? This is too delicious… if only I could have this all the time.” I took another bite, savoring it. As I swallowed, I looked up at him and joked. "Yep, I think the only solution would be for me to just marry you.”

“…” There was a strange silence in the room. I ate some more cake, unconcerned at first, but as the awkward stillness stretched on I paused in my actions, turning towards Liam again with a questioning look.

His face was bright red, and he stared at me with a look of shock and joy.

“Liam?”

He nodded, and blushing more, pulled out his communication device, dialing a number.

“Who are you calling…?”

Alaira’s father, General Gladus showed up on the holographic projection from his device. He stared at Liam, confused for a moment, before barking out with a frown. “Who is this?”

Liam sat up straight, staring at the man with a solemn expression. “General Gladus, my name is William. I am the third born of the Royal family, and a first year student at the academy, and a Level S Connector.”

General Gladus grinned. “I know who you are, son. You’re the wonderful young man who matched with my daughter. I’ve been wanting to talk with you and thank you…”

“Your daughter has asked me to marry her and I have agreed.”

“What?”

“What?”

My father and I asked in unison.

“I was very happy to receive your daughter’s offer of marriage. I will do my very best to support her in all her endeavors.”

“She proposed?”

I silently mouthed an echoing question as my father burst out loudly. “I proposed?”

Liam nodded. “I wanted to let you know so that you could arrange for military leave and be present for our wedding. I know the paperwork can take weeks to months. ”

“…” General Gladus looked stunned. Slowly, his hologram turned towed me. “Alaira, is this true?”

"Yeah, military leave paperwork is notoriously slow..."

He interrupted. "No I mean about the engagement!"

I glanced over at Liam’s excited face.

____________________________

“I don’t believe it’s real.” He whispered, staring down at our hands that were clasped together. “I thought that I was always going to be alone. I thought my fate… my role… ”

I fiddled with the silver band in my hand, trying it on his finger. “Screw fate. We’re getting married now.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, the smile lighting up his face, making the whole room brighter. “Screw fate. I’m your husband!”

____________________________

I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re a destined couple.” I briefly explained about our 100% resonance match.

“… Did you say 100% match?” At my nod, General Gladus opened up his arms. “Welcome to family! When's the wedding?”

After a few more minutes of discussion, Liam hung up, still looking happy.

“Should we notify your parents?”

His face froze. When his gaze finally rose to met mine I shrunk back from the dull look I saw there.

“No reason to.” He reached out, tucking back my hair. “A family without love is just blood related acquaintances. You’re my real family, wife.”

I hugged him again. “That’s right. I’m your family.” I hadn’t really meant to propose… it was just a joke. But the second he called me wife, my heart had felt a sense of recognition. It was happy, but also hurt, a deep remembered pain. A panicked feeling rose up within me, as fear, despair and sadness came in waves, before leaving quickly, overwhelming me without warning or reason. I desperately wanted to remember something, to tear open the fog clouding my brain and peer at what was hidden behind it. But I couldn't.

You must accept your fate. A metallic voice rang in my head, cold, dispassionate, filled with undeniable.

“No.” I whispered, tears filling my eyes even if I wasn’t sure why they were there.

Liam noticed my distress. “Alaira?”

“I'm fine." I think we should go back to practice.” I pulled him to his feet. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

“You’re right, let’s continue working hard so we can save the world like you wanted. But on our next break, we have a wedding to plan!” For the first time, Liam was more excited than me to get to practice. He grabbed my hand and raced forward.

____________________________

Later that night, I went back to my dorm room, still thinking over my last conversation with Liam. He was energetically talking about wedding plans, making lists and drawings with the hologram on his communicator, storing them in special file with my name on it.

When I asked him why he was so excited, he paused, staring down at his hands. “Have you ever felt a desire that was so strong, it seemed to be beyond anything you’ve experienced before?” He glanced up. “I feel this, Alaira. Deep in my soul. I want to be by your side. I want to marry you, but even if you didn’t want that, I’d be your minion or your sidekick. Being by you… helping you… it’s such an integral part of myself, I couldn’t separate from it if I tried.”

“Liam…”

“I think I believe in reincarnation and soul mates.” He smiled. “I’m so happy right now that I think this has to be a hallucination, it can’t be real.”

“I don’t believe it’s real.” I felt the memory of the young man’s whisper in my head again, and pushing it back, I leaned forward to kiss Liam gently.

“It’s real.”

Now alone in my room, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the connection with Liam, the emotions and memories that accompanied every moment with him.

“Who am I?” I leaned against the wall and whispered to myself.

“That is the question isn’t it?”

At the unexpected answer I straightened up, falling into a defensive stance. Recognizing the intruder did not make relax, however. If anything it made me more tense.

“Chris. What are you doing here?” I kept my voice calm, trying to hide my inner tension.

“I’m getting tired, Bel.” He sat down on my bed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just… so tired of all this.”

“What did you call me?” The name resonated with me, much more than “Alaira” ever had.

He ignored me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to give up right away. It promised me…”

The room fell into silence. I stood as still as a statue, barely daring to breathe. I was desperate to hear more, terrified to let him continue speaking. Chris’s voice was different, his tone filled with years of regret. His eyes when they stared at me, seemed to look right through me, as if seeing through my skin to something deeper and more profound.

“Why can’t you just accept your fate, Bel?” He sighed, the sound seeming to drag on too long. “Everything depends on it.”

“What do you…?”

“The lower realms you treasure… the friends you’ve made… even…” He hesitated. “Even his existence depends on everyone having their role and playing their part.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Chris.”

“MY NAME ISN’T CHRIS!” He yelled, the sound startling in the otherwise silent room. “Just like yours isn’t Alaira. Just like his… it wasn’t supposed to be…”

“Liam?”

”THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HIS NAME!” Chris, or whoever he was, stood up, his face red with rage. “He corrupted it! He refused his role, and ended up tricking you to do the same.” He stepped closer. “Why do you always force me to be the one who has to carry the weight of the realms on my shoulders? Why does he get to be the only one who is happy? I don’t want to play these games anymore, Bel.”

“I’m not playing games!” I shouted back, frustrated. “I don’t remember anything!”

“And you won’t. Not until it’s over. But it will be soon. Because I’m going to end it.” He walked towards the door, preparing to leave, only stopping when I grabbed his arm.

“No. You aren’t leaving until you explain what you meant.”

His eyes lit up briefly at our contact, and I pulled my hand away quickly. “You made a bet, Bel, and these are rules you can’t escape. All it takes is one failed mission. One failure before you can finish the task of piecing together your soul.”

“Piecing together…?” His words struck a chord within me, but I shook my head. “I may not understand anything going on, but I’ll tell you this: I won’t fail my mission.”

The light is his eyes dimmed. “You started this. Just remember that, when you regret everything. You. Started. This.”

He left through room, slamming the door behind him. I stood in place, staring blankly, my mind racing.

Realms, real names, missions and bets… I don’t understand any of it.

But I knew one thing, as certainly as if it were imprinted on my soul.

I would not accept my fate.

Even if I couldn’t remember what that fate was.

Even if I had to destroy fate itself to escape it.

[ladyfogg]

First Date

First Date 

Fic Summary: The time has come for you and Colin to finally have your first official date. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: M

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language & some making out/suggestive language

Last week when you flirted with Colin and followed him to his hotel room, it had been a quick, spontaneous decision. While it hadn’t worked out quite how you wanted it to, you got your chance a few days later when he slept over at your place.

You didn’t expect to spend the following day in bed with him, nor did you expect to feel so goddamn horny for the man the second he left. Even the quickie in your car wasn’t enough. You want more of Detective Colin Zabel and it’s driving you crazy.

You’ve never wanted someone this bad before. But your stomach is a jumble of nerves for an entirely different reason. Because tonight, you and Colin are having your first official date and you have no idea how to act.

Dating is new territory for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in a relationship and even then it wasn’t serious. When Colin asked you to join him for dinner at his friend’s restaurant, you said yes before you could overthink. Of course, now that means your anxiety has been building.

The case Colin and Mare are working has kept them busy over the last few days so you haven’t been able to spend much time with your…friend? You don’t know what to call him. Boyfriend sounds too formal. Lover is a weird word that never settles quite right. Potential romantic partner? Booty call? Really close friend?

See, this is why you never date. It gets too confusing and messy.

At least, that’s how you used to feel. Now, you’re not so sure. Because every time Colin catches your eye and smiles at you, those old thoughts aren’t as loud as they used to be.

You keep telling yourself to relax and go with the flow, but it’s easier said than done. Which is why you find yourself running around your room trying to find something to wear.

Currently, most of your clothes are piled up on your bed. Digging through them, you reject everything you see, almost to the point of tears. It’s not until you sit yourself down and take a few deep breaths that you realize just how nervous you are.

“It’s okay,” you tell yourself. “It’s Colin. You know him. You like him. And he likes you. He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met and he’s not going to care what you wear as long as you have a great time.”

Bullshit. Dress to impress. Knock him dead. Take the beath out of him.

After several long minutes of internal debate, you manage to find something relatively dressy that fits and looks good on you. Shoving all your clothes back in the closet, you try to make your room mostly presentable on the off chance you and Colin end up back there after dinner. You’d like to assume you will but are trying not to put any pressure on him or yourself.

You just finish getting ready when there’s a knock on the door. Checking yourself over in the mirror one last time, you take a deep breath, before going to greet Colin.

Dear GOD, he looks amazing. While Colin tends to dress very well for work, it’s different seeing him in a suit jacket and tie.

“You look beautiful,” he says, eyes taking you in with appreciation. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup. Just lead the way.”

Colin offers you his arm in an endearingly formal way and you can help but accept, letting him lead you to his car. The sweet man even opens the door for you. With a quiet word of thanks, you climb in, your heart fluttering with nervous energy.

As he drives away, you sense the nervous tension between you two.

“So…” Colin says. “I know I suggested my friend’s restaurant but if you’d rather go somewhere else that’s good too.”

“No, no, your friend’s place is fine.”

Colin nods, flipping on the radio to help fill the awkward silence. You don’t know what to do with your hands and find yourself fidgeting with your coat, seatbelt, purse, and whatever you can.

“How was your afternoon?” Colin asks. “You were gone by the time we got back from canvasing…”

“It was fine. Made some coffee runs and filed a bunch of stuff.”

“Cool...”

More silence. As Colin pulls into a parking space at the restaurant, you feel the need to clear the air.

“I’m sorry I’m not very good company tonight,” you say. “The truth is, I’m really nervous.”

Colin smiles and puts the car in park. “Honestly, me too.”

You both laugh, partly from relief and partly by amusement. “Look, I don’t have any expectations,” Colin continues. “I asked you out because I really like you and I’ve never connected with someone like I’ve connected with you.”

“We have connected very well,” you tease.

Colin’s cheeks turn red and he ducks his head as he tries to hide his smile. “I meant emotionally but yeah, physically too.”

“I also meant emotionally,” you say. “Mostly.”

He laughs and looks at you again. “I’m really happy to hear you say that. Glad it’s not all in my head.”

Hearing the self-deprecation in his voice, you slide your hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss. He responds instantly, melting into your touch and kissing back with equal intensity. When he draws back, his eyes are hooded.

“It’s not all in your head,” you assure him. “There is something here. Why wouldn’t I feel something for you? You’re smart, considerate, fucking adorable as hell…” He smiles and blushes harder. “You’re a great guy, Colin.”

He kisses you gently one more time. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I do,” you tease. “Now can we go eat?”

“Absolutely.”

Feeling lighter and less nervous, the two of you get out of the car. Colin takes your hand as he meets you on your side of the car. Heading inside, you can’t help but focus on the feeling of his hand in yours. It was solid and warm, just like the rest of him.

You’re seated right away and Colin let’s your hand go so he can hold your chair our for you. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, the low lighting set the right mood. Colin looks even more dashing than he did on your front porch.

The waiter takes your drink orders and you pick up your menu, trying to figure out what to have. Colin does the same.

“This is a nice place,” you comment, glancing around. “I’m not used to going out like this.”

“Stick with me and I’ll take you to all the nice places.”

“What? The backseat of my car isn’t nice enough?”

His ears turn red this time and he chuckles. “I didn’t say that. It has its merits.”

The waiter arrives with your drinks and takes your orders, before leaving once more.

“So, Detective Colin Zabel,” you say, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s a big shot like you doing in a place like Easttown?”

He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I’m no big shot,” he says shaking his head. “I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”

“It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” you realize. “Talking about that big case.”

“Can we not talk about that case?” he asks. “I’m not…I’d rather talk about something else.”

“No problem. Sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s okay. What about you? I never asked what it was like for you starting out. You know, after the academy.”

He seems relieved that you are willing drop the subject and as the conversation starts to flow, both of you get more comfortable. Wanting to take his mind off things, you decide to tell him about your more memorable moments as a young trainee.

“Oh, and THEN! Then Mare arrives right as I’m trying to detain this guy,” you say, hands moving wildly as you talk. “And she just gives me that stern, unamused look that she always has…”

“Yup, I know that look.”

“And when I finally get him into the back of the car she goes, ‘Hey, kid, I think you’re forgetting something’.”

“Oh god, no…”

“Yeah, the guy’s dog. He came tearing out of the house and I chased me around the car while Mare just fucking laughed.”

Colin throws his head back and laughs, a sight that makes your own grin widen. You’ve never seen him so jovial, well without alcohol, and you vow to think of more stories that’ll make him laugh that hard.

“Didn’t you go there because of the reports of his dog being loud and aggressive?”

“Sure did. Then promptly forgot when I noticed the stolen merchandise from the theft. Needless to say, I got a little too excited and, whelp, got chased by the dog.”

Colin is still laughing, shaking his head while he does. “Wow. Just…just wow.”

“I am so glad you enjoyed my embarrassment.”

“I absolutely did.”

His face is bright and you want to reach across the table and kiss him.

You wonder why you were even nervous to begin with. Once the food arrives, Colin lifts his wine in a toast. You follow his lead with your drink and you both smile as you clink glasses.

“Any particular plans after dinner?” you ask as you both start to eat.

Colin shakes his head. “Not in particular. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a soft bed that’s been missing you.”

His pupils dilate and you see his breathing pick up. “I…yeah, that sounds great. I kind of hoped you’d say that but I didn’t want to assume anything.”

Under the table, you run the tip of your shoe up the back of his calf and he jumps in surprise, almost dropping his fork. You smirk as he gets flustered.

“You have my complete permission to assume all you’d like,” you say in a low voice.

The evening takes on a very different energy after that. Heated looks are exchanged as you both eat as quickly as you can while still being polite.

“Are we thinking dessert?” the waiters asks when he gathers your empty plates.

You shoot Colin a raised eyebrow.

“I think just the check will be fine,” Colin says.

The drive back to your place is different than the drive to the restaurant had been. Colin’s hand rests on your knee, and just the pressure of it is enough to get your body going.

He barely puts the car in park before you reach for him, yanking him into a searing kiss. Colin is just as eager, hands fumbling to turn off the car before he can get them on you.

“We should go inside,” he pants between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You stop just long enough to get out of the car. Coming around to the front, you both meet in the middle, Colin cupping your cheek while snaking his arm around your waist. God the way his mouth slots over yours is just so perfect.

The ringing of his cellphone cuts through the quiet night.

You groan in frustration. “Noooooo.,” you whine.

Colin huffs in annoyance, pulling back. “I’m so sorry,” he says taking the phone out of his pocket. “Shit, it’s Mare. I should take this.”

Sighing but understanding, you motion for him to go ahead.

Colin answers the phone. “Zabel, here. Yeah, hey, Mare…”

You know work has interrupted your date and you probably won’t be getting to the best part anytime soon. Colin’s face is somber as he listens to his partner.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says, giving you an apologetic look. “Bye.”

He hangs up.

“Duty calls?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “She wants me to meet her in an hour. There’s a club we need to check out.”

“An hour, huh?” you ask, lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah. It’s across town so it’s going to take me a—what are you doing?”

You push him so his back bumps into the hood of the car. “You have plenty of time to get there. I want to at least make out a little.”

Colin gives you that lopsided smile before pulling you into another heated kiss. You slide your arms around his neck as his go around your waist, crushing you against his chest. It’s filled with promises and silent wants. Neither of you wants him to go, both of you would love to go inside and pick up where you left off the other day.

But work is work, and you won’t make him feel guilty for doing his job.

Your tongue finds his, deepening the kiss as your fingers dig into the collar of his coat. Colin draws back just enough for his nose to brush yours as he lays several pecks on your lips.

“If I’m not done too late, can I come back?” he asks, voice filled with hope.

“You better.”

His smile widens and he gives you one final, sweeping kiss before gently pushing you back so he’s not pressed against the car.

“I’ll text you,” he promises.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Colin watches you walk up to your door but doesn’t get into his car until you’re safely inside. You wave to him from the door, hoping he’ll come back sooner rather than later. In the meantime, you are going to find the sexiest underwear you own and wait.

--- 

Series Taglist: @lejardinfleur​ @spidergirlmcu​ @anonymushhy​ @samsassinparvismagna​ @kitwalker64​ @tatestripedsweater​ @xmaximoffic​ @marshmallow--3​ @stellarbound​ @kais-messiahbaby​ @margaretboothsear​ @slightlyvicked​ @nia-s-not-so-secret-diary​ @liandav​ @billyhxrgrove​ @TheOriginalDoll87

[schrijverr]

Hold Me Together

Chapter 2 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self-esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~

Pull Me Close

When he awoke the next morning, he was pinned down by two warm weights at his sides. He kept his breathing steady, as if he were still asleep while he assessed the situation, before last night came back to him.

He felt a heat rising to his cheeks as he cracked open one eye to look, the other having swollen shut throughout the night. It was indeed Parker and Hardison who were pinning him down and he knew he couldn't sneak out without them noticing right now. He was trapped and sooner or later he would have to face them again.

Quietly he sorted through everything, hoping to come up with a plan to make this less awkward for everyone involved.

If he moved now, they would wake up and know he was awake and he would have to talk to them, but if he pretended to still be asleep maybe they’d leave him alone, however that would be unrealistic, because he would never sleep through them waking up and it was creepy to pretend to sleep just so that you could enjoy laying in the warmth of your two coworkers that you were in love with without having to deal with the mess that made.

But, fuck, he was comfortable. More comfortable that he’d been in years. The pain had dulled a lot and he was warm and cozy under the sheets with Parker and Hardison there. Hardison snored softly and Parker’s fingers skittered over him in her sleep, almost miming a pickpocket.

It was something nice that he would never have, never deserve. And while it was selfish, he didn’t want it to end just yet.

Still, he had no say in that and all his thinking was for naught when his door slammed open and the familiar silhouette of Nate appeared, saying: “Ah, there you all are. It’s eight, we want to leave as soon as we can.”

“We’ll be there,” Parker chirped, having gone from fast asleep to awake in a moment. Nate nodded at her, before leaving.

On Eliot’s other side, Hardison was taking his time, burrowing his face into Eliot’s uninjured shoulder as he whined softly. Eliot couldn't blame him, they’d gotten to the hotel around three in the morning, so they’d had less than five hours if it was eight now. Still, the hot breaths on his neck were not good if he wanted to keep this platonic, so he poked Hardison and grouched: “Get off me, man.”

“Wha?” Hardison looked up, smiling in a way that made Eliot’s heart twist when he saw it, before he said: “Hey, it’s you. How you doin’?”

“I’m fine, slight headache and sore muscles,,” Eliot told him honestly. “I’ll be up and running in no time, now just get off me so that I can get up.”

“Your eye is bruised,” Hardison frowned, noticing the black eye that had been a light bruise a few hours ago.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed poking it and making him wince.

“Don’t touch it, Parker,” he said, leading her hand away from his face. “It’s fine, just a bruise that I forgot to cool, it’s nothing. Now stop pinning me to the mattress.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” Hardison got off and Eliot could see the other man was just wearing sweatpants nothing else and his face got a bit hot again, so he looked to the other side, only to discover that Parker was in nothing but a shirt and underwear. God either loved or hated him very much.

So, instead of focusing on them, he focused on getting to a sitting position, pleased to find he could do that on his own.

He was still in Hardison’s hoodie and his own sweatpants and he really didn’t want to change. This was comfortable and warm and it would be easy to take off at home when he was by himself again, which twisted something cold in his chest. Besides he could always wash it and give it back later, an excuse to keep it for a little while. He asked: “Hey, man, can I keep this for today?” as he rubbed the sleeves between his fingers, trying not to think how sad it was that he wanted to keep it, just craving a bit of comfort for today. He still felt groggy and generally uncomfortable.

Hardison looked over, a strange look coming over his face when he saw how the sleeves fell over Eliot’s hands, before he nodded: “Yeah, course.”

“Cool, thanks.” Now this was just getting awkward, so Eliot swung his legs over the side of the bed where Parker had been, since she had disappeared a few seconds ago.

Before he could stand up, however, Hardison was crawling after him, nearly toppling off the bed, before he said: “Wait! Stop. You can’t just do that, Eliot. Your ankle is hurt.”

“Me and my ankle will live,” Eliot informed him. It would be slightly painful to walk, but not impossible.

“Just let me help for a moment,” Hardison asked, quickly pulling on a shirt he found on the floor, before offering a hand.

Eliot rolled his eyes at the fussing, but he was also selfish enough to allow it. It was going to be over soon anyway, why not enjoy a bit of contact? Hardison wanted to help, so it wasn’t taking advantage of it, and not putting any weight on his ankle would be a smart move.

So, they made their way downstairs, with Hardison carrying Eliot’s bag and laying his hand on Eliot’s waist again, while Parker met them at the elevator, her and Hardison’s stuff in hand almost as if they’d planned this.

He tried not to think about it as Hardison led him to the table where Sophie was sitting, before telling him he was to stay there and that Hardison would get him a plate from the buffet. Once he was gone, Sophie leaned over and asked: “So, good night?”

“Was fine,” he replied, eyeing her suspiciously after she’d grinned at him and flicked her eyes towards Hardison and Parker. Had she figured out his feelings? Was he being obvious? Did she think something happened between them? Trying to play it cool, he added: “Got more than 90 minutes of sleep for a change.”

“Oh, your productivity out the door like that,” she teased, luckily dropping any suggestiveness and prying.

“I was productive in healing my body,” he shot back, hiding his relief.

Sophie frowned at his face, cocking her head. “I can see that,” she said sarcastically.

“Come on, Soph, this is not my first black eye,” Eliot said. “My stitches are clean, my ankle is wrapped, my shoulder is back. I’m as good as I can be, little swollen eye is nothing. Could be much worse. Has been in the past.”

At that point Hardison came back with a plate of stuff Eliot actually liked, which touched him more than he’d liked to admit. He put the plate down in front of Eliot, inserting himself into the conversation: “Is he trying to tell you he’s fine by telling you everything that’s wrong with him and reminding you that he’s had a shit life?”

“Yes, it’s not really working,” Sophie said, before Eliot could protest that it was useful, because he was reminding them this was his job and it was okay, that he was okay and taken care off, because all his wounds were clean and it wasn’t that bad.

Instead of saying all that, however, he shoved a fork of food into his mouth and glowered: “See if I ever tell you about my injuries again.”

“He’s grouching, that means he’s okay, right?” Parker asked, poking his cheek again.

“Stop that, Parker,” he snapped, not really mad at her, because he was weak and would do anything to make her happy.

“Jup, he’s okay,” Hardison said, smiling and Eliot wanted to smack him, but he was right and cute, so he couldn’t. “And he’s telling us about his injuries next time.”

“Or we’ll force him!” Parker added enthusiastically.

“Was it that bad?” Sophie was immediately worried again and Eliot wanted them to stop fussing, because it felt weird and twisty in his chest when they did and he hated that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“No, it wasn’t, I’m-” he got cut off by Hardison, who said: “He was kinda out of it for a bit, but nothing we couldn't handle. He was a bit grumpy about the whole thing, but he’s always like that. We just need to keep his leg up and as cool as we can during the drive and he should be set. Probably sleep a bit on the way too.”

“And how am going to sleep in that crappy van?” Eliot grouched. He wanted to protest it all, but no one was listening to him, so protesting seemed a bit redundant. Besides it was hard to be mad at them about it when it seemed like they all cared about his well being and the twisty feeling in his chest was only getting twistier.

“Excuse you, Lucille is a beautiful lady and you will treat her as such,” Hardison began. “And second off, you can sleep in the backseat. There’s a storage area between the front seats that you can rest you foot on. Promise me and Parker won’t bother your little nap.”

“I’m not sleeping in the van,” not between the two of you, he added mentally. “And why don’t I get to sit up front? Don’t I have injured rights?”

“No, there’s more space on the backseat and Nate’s driving and you’re horrible when Nate drives,” Hardison explained.

“I’m not horrible when Nate drives, he just sucks at driving,” Eliot frowned.

“He turned on his blinker once and you got annoyed, because it was too early, Eliot,” Sophie pointed out.

“Yeah and what about that time you said he switched lanes wrong,” Parker said. “You were very scary. You’re not even that scary when I drive and everyone hates my driving.”

“I can’t help that Nate can’t drive,” Eliot crossed his arms.

From behind him Nate’s voice said: “I’m glad you think so highly off my driving skills. You’re in the back seat, I don’t need you to grouch at me for hours about holding the steering wheel wrong or whatever you come up with.”

Eliot had registered him coming up behind him, but he didn’t care that Nate heard. He wanted to be mad about being injured and unable to fight, but he wasn’t able to, so he was going to be mad about something else and right now that was Nate’s driving and being in the back seat. He frowned (frowned, not pouted, Hardison): “I’m still gonna yell at you from the back.”

“Sure you are,” Nate said as he started to walk off with a cup of coffee. “Our mark has officially been taken into custody and the victims have been repaid. I want to be home before dinner, so buckle up everyone.”

They grumbled and groaned about it being too earlier to pack up, but no one stayed seated. This time it was Parker steadying him while Hardison carried all their stuff to Lucille.

Getting back into Lucille was another problem and Eliot was glad Nate and Sophie had already gotten into the van, because this was embarrassing enough as it was without onlookers.

Hardison had to support him fully on the left side, where his injured ankle was, but not his ex-dislocated shoulder, while Parker physically put his uninjured foot into Lucille. Then Hardison hoisted them into the van with Parker making sure they wouldn't fall back, until they were in and they could shuffle forwards and get seated.

Eliot was determined not to be visibly injured, so he crossed his arms and planted his feet on the ground, before staring ahead, vowing to keep his one, not swollen eye firmly open for the entire ride.

His plan was ruined by Parker the moment she settled on his other side, because she leaned forwards and put his leg on the little platform and right as he was about to protest, she put a bag of ice cubes on his foot and that actually felt really nice, so he cut himself off with a soft, grumpy thanks. She smiled: “Of course,” before handing him another ice cube bag for his eye.

Still, he could be awake and grumpy about everything, even when they were treating him like he was terribly injured, which he could understand after the fucking spectacle he made of himself last night. So he just told Nate that he shouldn’t pull up so fast, which earned him a glare from the man through the rear view mirror that he ignored.

Parker was on his right fiddling with one of her locks while she gazed out the window. Hardison was on his left and tapping away on a screen that was moving too fast for Eliot to follow. It was peaceful and they talked with each other softly, though Eliot didn’t have the energy to add his own commentary.

He felt bad about being in the middle of them again when they had already missed each other last night because of him. They hadn’t even seen each other during the job either with Hardison on tech support and Parker running between stealing and grifting.

He didn’t know how to bring it up that he wouldn’t mind switching with Hardison so that they could be next to each other and he could lean against the window. It wasn’t that he was tired and wanted to lean against something, he just wanted to have a clear line of sight, that was all.

The ice was slowly melting, until he had two bags of water and they were nearing their first stop, where Nate pulled over. Sophie would be driving the next stretch, because car-safety and all that jazz.

“Want me to get you anything?” Hardison asked when it became clear that Eliot wasn’t leaving the van.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Maybe switch places with me? I can’t lean against anything in the middle.” He didn’t add: ‘and I’m sure you missed Parker,’ partially because he knew it would have come out sounding bitter and that was something he did not need to deal with, both mentally and in real life.

Hardison raised a brow. “And where are you going to rest you foot if you’re on the left? And I know you ain’t going to be on the right, I heard your shoulder that shit was just wrong.”

“I’ll be fine without resting my foot anywhere. Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot frowned, not sure why the hacker was even fighting him on this.

“You can lean against me, promise I won’t draw on your face,” Hardison said, before walking away so that Eliot couldn't reply. Parker skipped up next to him and asked about the drawing on the face with a bit too much glee.

The words caught up with Eliot and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer, which he pushed down immediately. Hardison had offered it so casually, like it wasn’t weird at all that he was turning down the offer of sitting next to his girlfriend so that Eliot could lean against his shoulder. But maybe Eliot was seeing things where there was nothing, he was injured (minor injuries but that didn’t seem to stop Hardison from worrying), so it could just be a normal offer. It wasn’t as if Hardison hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder from time to time.

It wouldn't be weird, he didn’t need to make it weird. Besides, he didn’t needto take him up on the offer and lean on Hardison. He could just not sleep and keep on looking forwards. Yeah, that was a plan.

Soon the others came back, piling into the van once more, with Parker shoving two cold things in his hands as she proudly proclaimed: “They sold ice packs!”

“Oh, thank you, Parker,” he smiled at her, starting to lean forward with a grunt only to find one of the ice packs stolen and being placed on his foot again. He nodded his thanks to Parker, before settling down against the backseat and putting the other ice pack against his eye.

The swelling had gone down already with the ice cubes from the hotel, but the fresh coolness of the ice pack was still welcome.

On his other side, Hardison said: “I managed to convince her not to take the markers, so you’re welcome.”

“And who gave her the idea in the first place,” Eliot shot back, getting an idea. “I’m not risking it by sleeping. You never know if she doesn’t have them anyway.”

“Come on, man, you need the rest,” Hardison tried to argue.

“I already had more sleep than normal, Hardison. I’m fine,” Eliot replied. He did feel tired, but he wasn’t admitting that.

“But I promise I don’t have the markers,” Parker inserted herself into the conversation as well, showing that she only had some hundred dollar bills in her pockets along with some earrings that weren’t hers and a small stuffed mushroom.

“You literally just asked me if we could switch places so that you could lean against something,” it was clear that Hardison wasn’t believing him.

“I thought that you would want to sit next to Parker, sorry for trying to be nice,” he huffed out the truth, hoping it would get them off his back. They stayed silent, so he called out to the front: “Soph, can we please listen to something else, I am so not in the mood for opera.”

Sophie did change the station to something more generic with less high notes that made his head hurt, even if she grumbled: “Someone’s in a mood today.”

He snapped back: “You try getting beat up on a regular basis, see if you’re still sunshine and rainbows after.”

“No, for real, man, you’re never this grouchy,” Hardison frowned, trying to subtly check him over and failing on the subtle part. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“Is there an alien in your stomach controlling you?” Parker asked with wide eyes.

“Dammit, Hardison, I told you not to watch those stupid alien movies with her,” Eliot focused on something other than the uncomfortable questions Hardison had asked.

Because yeah, he was more grouchy than normal and something was wrong, but the something that was wrong was the fact that he had discovered that he was in love with his two best friends and now he was stuck on an eight hour car ride between them after they had seen him vulnerable and he feared that they would catch on or that he was coming between them and it was all the confusing twisty things he had tried to avoid and didn’t want to talk about.

Grouchy didn’t entirely cover that.

“Uhm, excuse you, alien movies are a staple of American culture that everyone should get to experience, so don’t even start there, also you didn’t answer my question,” Hardison told him, leveling him with a stare.

Eliot now had a choice. And it was easily made. “I have a huge headache, Hardison,” he sighed a partially lie, before going on with a whole lie, “I have a headache, I barely slept on the last con and you’re all very loud. I don’t need anyone’s fussing, I just wanted to sit quietly and everyone is making it really hard.”

“Thank you for being honest with us,” Parker said and it was obviously something she’d learned from Sophie and Eliot felt guilty about pretending to be open about his injuries a bit, just so they would get off his back.

“Yeah, man, we’ll be quiet,” Hardison added.

Hardison turned back to his screen and Parker to her locks and Eliot tried not to miss their soft chatter as he closed his eyes and tried to find his zen place.

After how much he’d insisted he wasn’t going to sleep, he was slightly embarrassed that the next moment he was waking up, having been asleep for some time. He could tell Sophie was behind the wheel, which meant he either hadn’t been asleep for long or they were on the last two hour stretch home.

He now registered that the ice pack on his foot had was cool again and the one on his cheek was held in place by someone – Parker his mind supplied – but he was leaning against something, someone, else with his other cheek. He was kind of groggy and he struggled to wake up, blinking bleary until he heard Hardison’s voice near his left ear: “Hey there, finally joining us in the land of the living again, huh?”

“Wha?” he was still feeling disorientated, the headache was much worse than when he’d drifted off and his muscles were sore, he was also cold and his throat ached slightly in the background. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to take a deep breath to wake up, only to find his nose stuffy.

No.

Fuck no.

It all clicked into place after a second. The confusion, the chills, the headache, sore muscles and throat and then also a stuffy nose. He was sick. He had managed to get himself sick.

“You okay?” Hardison asked, obviously concerned and Eliot felt guilty about having been asleep on his shoulder after everything, as well as guilt because that couldn't have been comfortable and Eliot just cozied up to him again, even when he knew Hardison had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who had been holding his ice pack for him.

He owed those two so much in just the last 24 hours alone, not to mention the past few years. That was something he couldn't pay back and he had treated them like shit and had caught weird feelings for them and gotten in between them.

Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them away as a hole started to eat away at his heart and he couldn't fully push that down, even if he tried.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his too emotional state of being was due to his lower defenses since he was sick. He felt too exhausted to fight it, but did it after a moment anyway, replacing it with enough grumpiness to be believable.

“‘m fine,” he mumbled, trying not to make his sore throat obvious as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up. They didn’t need to know he was sick, they would only worry. He would disappear when they got home and come back when he felt better again. “Are we near the brewpub yet?”

“Yes, you slept for so long, it was a bit boring, but your nose whistled and that was funny,” Parker informed him. “Hardison was trapped under you the entire ride.”

Now at that he did blush and avoided Hardison’s eyes as he softly apologized.

“No worries, man, you obviously needed the sleep,” Hardison assured him. “And I wasn’t trapped under you the entire ride, we managed to lever you over to Parker’s shoulder when Nate took Sophie’s place again. We only switched you back last stop.”

“I didn’t wake up?” Eliot asked, frowning, he must be sicker than he thought.

“Slept like a baby,” Hardison said. “Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“‘m fine, I already said that,” Eliot grouched, trying not to let show how much he wanted to not be okay and wrapped up in a hug or a blanket or something. He was the tough one, he couldn't be weak, because his job was being strong. Just hold on, Eliot, he thought, then you can crash on your bed.

“Your voice sounds off,” Parker observed, “more gravelly than normal. And you didn’t wake up in a second and your eyes are still drooping.” She cocked her head, before her eyes got a knowing gleam in them. He was made. “Do you feel hungry? Or are you nauseous? Are you in any discomfort? Cold, perhaps? How’s your headache?”

“Hey, mama, why don’t you give the man a rest,” Hardison came to his defense. “You’re kinda overwhelming him with questions right now.”

“When has Eliot ever been overwhelmed?” Parker shot back and Eliot cursed her observation skills, there went his plan to hide until he was better.

“What are you getting at, baby?” Hardison frowned.

“She figured out I’m sick,” Eliot snapped, before Parker could tell him. “And I’m right here. No need to talk about me like I’m not.”

“You’re sick?” Nate asked. “How long has that been going on?”

“I only noticed it when I woke up,” Eliot replied, remembering one of Nate’s rules. “I would have told you if I was sick on the con. I wouldn’t have put you all in danger over me being sick, you know that.”

“Is his wound infected?” Sophie asked and before Eliot could tell them that no it was not, because he would have noticed that, two small calloused thief hands crawled under his shirt, feeling at the bandage, before lifting his shirt to inspect it. Parker reported: “The wound is fine.”

“Do we have supplies for soup at home?” Hardison asked.

“I think we have a blanket for him somewhere under the chairs,” Nate said.

“Oehh, we can build a pillow fort!” Parker exclaimed.

“I’m right here,” Eliot grouched, he didn’t need their care. Craved it? Yes. But he didn’t need it and he wasn’t going to let them. He was supposed to be invincible and while they were long past believing that, he couldn't let them see how pathetic he was. “And I don’t need a damn blanket or soup, or a pillow fort. I’m just a bit under the weather and I am fine on my own. I’ll take a few days and then I’m good to go, don’t be so dramatic.”

Hardison looked him over, then looked at Parker and raised his brow in an ‘are you hearing this guy’ manner, before he said: “I can be as dramatic as I want to be.”

“What? No,” Eliot said. “I’m the sick one and if I say I’m fine and you gotta stop being dramatic about it, then you stop being dramatic about it. Simple.”

“Sure, simple,” Hardison said, pulling out the blanket and teamworking with Parker to get it around his shoulders. “Except I worried my ass off last night because you could hardly walk, or even stand on your own and you dazed out constantly while trying to tell us you were fine. So when it comes to you telling me you’re fine, I’m not really trusting you, alright.”

The blanket around his shoulders was warm and he wanted to burrow into it, but he wasn’t giving in so easily.

“Dammit, Hardison, I said I was fine. I don’t need any of your fussing near me, alright. I’m not incompetent. It’s not even that bad,” he yelled, snapping because he had no energy to do anything but snapping or giving in at this point. And giving in wasn’t an option.

“I know you’re not incompetent, Eliot, we all do,” Hardison said, Parker agreeing: “Of course we don’t think that, you’re skilled.”

He crossed his arms and looked away. He knew they didn’t think he was incompetent, they wouldn't trust him with their lives otherwise, but that could change at any moment. He’d seen it happen before, so he wasn’t risking it.

“And I’m also hearing a lot about you don’t needing anything, which I also believe,” Hardison went on in a tone that had Eliot’s guard up. “But I ain’t hearing nothing about wanting. And we care about you, man, how many times have I got to tell you that? We want to take care of you, even if we know you don’t need it.”

“I don’t need anyone playing nurse,” he protested again. It was weak and he knew it, but he had to protest, he had to warn them without explicitly warning them, because that would also be a weakness and- His head hurt and the thoughts in it were swirling and confusing him.

“That kinda looks like a lie to me,” Hardison said, looking him over with concern in his eyes. “And you’re again talking about needing not wanting.”

“Are you okay, Eliot?” Parker was also not happy with his face it seemed, but he knew he must look like a confused, sweating, hurt mess, with a swollen eye and a shivering frame. He had even pitifully burrowed into the blanket without even realizing.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was just tired and upset about feelings he couldn't place. He wanted to crash someplace warm and not have to think for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said again, voice unsteady. “It’s- I- I can never want something. ‘s a weakness.”

If he was paying attention, he could have pinpointed when Hardison’s heart broke by the look in his eye, but instead he was distracted by Parker pulling him into a hug as she said: “I get it, but Hardison taught me how to feel stuff and you taught me how to like stuff, we can teach you how to be taken care of.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sophie’s voice was slightly fake in her enthusiasm as it came from the front seat, cutting off any half-formed protests from Eliot.

“Me too,” Hardison quickly agreed, throwing an arm over Eliot’s shoulder and pulling him close, until he was leaning against his chest, Parker on his lap like a pretzel. “We’ll teach you how to be taken care off and then you can work on your verbal explanations by teaching me how to make soup for you from the comforts of a bed.”

“Wha- I don’t-” Eliot’s mind was too confused to properly fight the argument, he somewhere knew needed to be fought, while also not wanting to fight it.

“It’s been a lot of don’ts from you, just accept it, alright?” Hardison said, pulling him closer and he wanted to protest again. Really, he did. But he was also very comfortable and warm and he was tired and they’d be home soon. He could fight them again when they were home.

In the end, it turned out that fighting them when they got home was a terrible plan. The sleeping had left him groggy and Nate and Sophie had already disappeared, leaving him with just Hardison’s comforting chattering and Parker’s puppy eyes. He couldn't drive home in this state and both had refused to drive him and he already had a room above the brewpub, so he could go home tomorrow if he felt like it and-

And he gave in, the great Eliot Spencer, defeated by cute little eyes and too many arguments about a comfortable bed nearby. What had his life come to?

His life had come to waking up in a soft bed, that Hardison had managed to get exactly right before he’d even arrived in Portland all those months ago, with a sore throat and muscles, while being nicely warm on his right side where a bony elbow was wedged into his side, while on the other side there was a consistent, comfortingly familiar tapping noise.

He blinked blearily and groaned when a wave of nausea rolled over him, before a coughing fit overtook him. Parker’s warmth disappeared, but Hardison’s voice came: “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

A glass of water appeared and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly and letting it sooth his throat and wash away the itch at the back of it.

“You’ve been clonked out for the past few hours, about sixteen. How you feeling?” And Eliot was grateful that Hardison knew him well enough to first tell him how much time he’d lost before asking him about his state.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice was barely a whisper.

“That response is really ingrained, isn’t it, huh?” Hardison said, but there was no judgment in his voice.

“Oehh, is that one of the things we’re teaching him to stop with? Like how I had to look further than the alarms in a museum?” Parker piped up.

“Yeah, exactly, mama,” Hardison’s smile was obvious when he talked. “He can start by telling us how he really feels.”

And Eliot was honestly too tired to follow the conversation, so he gave up on trying and just answered honestly: “Like I’ve been hit by a motorcycle.”

“Not a truck?” Hardison asked.

“No, motorcycle hit is very distinctive.”

“You and your distinctive,” the mutter was more for Hardison himself than him, so he ignored it. “Parker, baby, if I go get the soup, can you make sure he doesn’t drop off again. He needs to eat if he wants to recover.”

“Of course, I’ll keep watch!” Parker saluted and Hardison left the room.

Eliot let his eyes close, content to just lie there, but Parker obviously thought he was falling asleep again, because she poked his right cheek where the bruise was. It was less tender than last time, but still sore, so he hissed: “The fuck, Parker.”

“I need to keep you awake,” she said with wide eyes and he wanted to roll his, but that would make her sad, so he just sighed and leaned back into his pillow, this time with his eyes open.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to put together the little bit of information his brain was willing to give him.

“Well, you were out beating people up in the rain,” she launched into an explanation, “and Hardison says you don’t actually get sick from the rain, but you did get sick and me and Hardison are taking care of you, but you were really grumpy on the drive back, but then you fell asleep. And your nose whistled.”

He let her voice wash over him as she went on.

“But then you woke up and you were really sad about something, but also grouchy and then Hardison did his thing, where he gets people and has like the voice that tells him what you need to hear. He and Sophie both do it, it’s fascinating, he’s teaching me how to do it too. And you gave in, because you wanted to, but you didn’t want to tell us, so we had to crack your emotion safe with our words and now we’re going to teach you how to be taken care of,” she finished.

Wait what? He had put most of the pieces together and part of him had only partially questioned why they were in his bed, but he hadn’t remembered this. He thought they were just here to see if he woke up again and now that he had, he could throw them out of his room (going to his apartment seemed too hard at this point), but not this.

Before the freak out could fully set in, Hardison entered with a bowl of steaming soup. “Here you go, chicken noodle soup, the best for when you’re sick and homemade,” Hardison grinned. “I really want to say by us, but we set a pan on fire and then asked the kitchen staff to make it.”

He wordlessly accepted the soup, still trying to figure out what was going on exactly, how he felt about it and how he would get out of it.

Yeah, okay, what the fuck had his life come to?

~~

A/N:

I really like the idea of Eliot being fine with the insane driving off Sophie and Parker, because it’s at least functional in a getaway situation, but he can’t stand Nate’s just below average driving (personal headcanon) in an everyday situation. It tickles me.

Also I know that Lucille doesn’t have a backseat bench, but the vibes were too good so just go with it

[spacegoatart]

Hey! I just read your treasure planet headcanons and i totally agree with all of them! I think that Silver and Sarah would be bestfriends, I imagine Silver the kind of guy that could always make Sarah laugh until her belly aches. Your trans!Jim headcanon is great too, if you want, maybe you could share more of your headcanons! :D

Thank you so much! I’m glad someone else enjoyed my hcs as much as I do

the Sarah and Silver ones hold a special place in my heart, I love their relationship so much and it wasn’t in the movie at all so I can just come up with whatever I want really :D

I don’t have a lot more hcs but I’ll probably be coming up with more stuff in the next couple of days, so here’s some other stuff I thought up about trans!Jim

I was trying to think about Jim’s childhood, being trans and all. I was think he may have been teased about it a little? But like, there's not much to go off of when half your classmates are already aliens. Then I started thinking about home life and, Jim being a human in a human family, they probably had misconceptions about anything like trans/gay folk. Particularly Leland. Leland probably didn’t understand or care to take the time to understand and when Jim came out, there wasn’t much support on his dad’s end. Sarah on the other hand was far more supportive, she probably knew transgender folk and while she didn’t know all that much, she knew it made her son happy. It hurt to see Leland leave but I’m sure it was nice not to be deadnamed/misgendered all the time. Once Leland was gone, Jim started thinking about top surgery but it got pushed to the back by all his negative thoughts so he didn’t get any kind of HRT treatment until like 14. Then Jim met Silver, things started getting better and Silver understood his struggle. Sarah was grateful that Silver was in Jim’s life because she never knew how to help Jim. Jim got top surgery a few months or a year into academy life, both because it would make things like combat so much easier and because he actually had a job where he was making money.

Jim didn’t bind very safely for a while, partly because his dad was completely against anything like that and because it was hard to fund one. It also felt like the one thing he could control, appearance-wise. When Jim met Silver and they started getting closer, that quickly stopped. Silver helped him find a binder that fit Jim, all the safety rules and made sure to check that Jim wasn’t sleeping in his binder.

Jim was kind of worried about top surgery, especially since his dad kept telling him that it was ‘dangerous’ and ‘wouldn’t work’. That all changed when Silver told Jim about his own experience with top surgery. Jim felt much better about it and actually thought having the scars would be kind of cool. Jim ended up getting T-anchor surgery and Silver, who previously had surgery, had a double incision. (Forgot to add but that's why Silver has no nipples in the trans image I drew, I don't think he would have kept them.)

Jim met a surprising amount of queer students at the academy and befriended a lot of them. I hate seeing Jim without a friend group, it feels too lonely, so I like to imagine that he a close-knit group of friends, some of which were part of the LGBT community.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Psychosomatic- Prompt Fill

Soooo I forgot to fully read the prompt, so this isn’t season 2.  Sorry!  Have a bit of a follow up to my broken ribs fic!

cw nausea, vomiting (brief mentions), headaches, migraines, injury, anxiety, fever, oh and Jon is kind of gaslighting himself a little

And I have finished all my bingo prompts, but I plan on choosing another prompt list soon, so keep an eye out if you wanna make some requests! And the rest of the bingo fics will be out soon (I tend to post on Wednesdays, but I make no promises for consistency).  Thanks again to @celosiaa​ for the wonderful bingo card!

“Jon?  Are you sure about this?”

That’s Martin talking to him.  He ought to pay attention.  

Jon wonders if there is a correct answer to the question.  There probably is, if he can think through the headache.  

Think.  

He is at Martin’s flat, has been for about a week.  

Martin is finally going to let him back to work.  Partly because he is starting to heal, and even so there isn’t much you can do for broken ribs.  Partly because Jon needs to save the world, and he has been doing his all the convince Martin of this.  There is also that terrifying thing about needing Statements now.  Not that he really wants to share that with Martin.  Because Martin is the only one who actually cares anymore and he could ruin it if Martin were to… He doesn’t know.  His chest is tight.  Partly from the pain, partly from anxiety.  

Stress, that’s why he feels like shit.  

Stress.  All in his head.  

Christ he has to answer before Martin gets concerned.  

“Yes.  I’m fine, Martin.  You can stop fussing.”  Does that sound like him?  How brusque is he normally?  Does this fall under the typical Jon being an arse (which… he feels very badly about but at this point what does he even say?  They had a few moments …but he never knows what to say now or he’s in too much pain or under too much stress to really be a good conversationalist, and being rude is better than …no it isn’t.  He’s just afraid of letting Martin get too close?).

Christ his head is pounding, and it isn’t like he’s done anything.  

Just the stress.  

Probably.  

Stress or statements.  

He’s fine.  

“It’s just… are you sure?  You look a bit peaky.  And you do need to be gentle with your ribs so they heal, so you don’t, you know puncture a lung and die or something.”

Jon dodges Martin trying to feel his forehead and hisses with pain.  He batts Martin’s hand away instead, pressing his other to his rib cadge.  

If he’s running a fever…  It’s probably just the pain.  He’s been in a lot of pain.  Ribs and now this headache, witch, could easily become a migraine.  

He wonders if he has Excedrin in his office, or hidden in the stacks with what’s left of his belongings.  

“I’m fine.  Just… worried about the Unknowing.  I’m trying to save the world, but had to take some time off… a bit hard to relax with that over my head.  You’re no stranger to anxiety, I’m sure you know the feeling.”  Shit.  Is that too personal?  Was the insensitive?  It’s a bit difficult to ignore, even for Jon, that Martin struggles with anxiety.  He’s seen the prescriptions by the bed, and around the Archives when Martin was living there.  He wasn’t really invading.  Not like he had back….  No.  It’s fine.  He’s fine.  No the anxiety certainly isn’t twisting in his core now, sloshing his insides.  Just the stress.  It’s fine. 

Martin sighs.  “Yeah.  Yeah… I do.  And it isn’t going to get better if we sit around here, is it?  But, you’ll let me know if working doesn’t make you feel better, yeah?  You still need to take it easy.  You aren’t better yet.”  

Jon purses his lips.  Not sure how to answer without outright lying.  “I’ll do my best?  It’s all a bit muddled?  Ribs hurt so it’s hard to sleep.  Stress makes it harder to sleep.  Stress and not sleeping lead to a headache.  Which won’t get better until I sleep, which I can’t do until I can make some progress at work so we all don’t literally die.  Christ, I’m sorry.  Let’s just go.  I’ll have a lie down after I read a Statement and do a bit of research, how about?  I… appreciate what you’ve done for me, but I’m imposing and probably putting you in danger, and I’m not the easiest person to live with…”

“It’s no trouble.  It’s… nice having someone else here.  I’m glad you let me look after you.”

“Not really like I had much of a choice, but I’ve had worse kidnappings.”

Martin makes a face.  

Jon worries he’s gone too far with a joke that isn’t all that funny.  “Sorry.”

“Let’s just go.  Sooner we leave the sooner I can get you back here and resting.  Yes Jon, I am bringing you back here if you’ll let me.  It’s actually less stressful when I know where you are so I can be sure you haven’t been kidnapped again.”

Jon can’t really argue with that.  

The tube may have been a mistake.  

It’s crowded, and there aren’t any open seats, and no one seems to care that he’s carrying a cane.  And while he could probably ask… he won’t.  Martin tries to shield him from the worst of the crown, but it’s the lighting.  Scraping at the backs of his eyes, threatening him with a migraine.  It’s the jolting of the train between stops where he stumbles because he can’t lift his free hand high enough to grab one of the grips without it tugging painfully on his ribs.  Martin tries to hold him steady, but it isn’t enough.  And to make it worse, Jon is certain that every eye is on him.  He’s small but conspicuous.  Messy hair, cane, scars, limp.  

Is it just his paranoia?  Is it the eye?  Is he just tired?  He doesn’t know, but it makes him want to curl up as tightly as he can, ribs be damned, and get out of sight.  It makes him feel sick.  

Martin tuts gently when Jon almost whimpers at the next judder of the train.  “Should have called a cab.”

Jon shakes his head.  “I’d rather be jostled than carsick.”  

Martin glances at him in concern.  Probably assessing the likelihood of Jon getting sick in the carriage.  

Jon wishes that weren’t a valid concern.  

He’s fine.  

It’s the headache.  It’s the stress.  He’ll read a Statement, he’ll do some research, he’ll take a nap if he needs to, but he should be feeling better by then.  

Martin checks on him every half hour or so.  It’s… distracting.  

And concerning.  

The Statement didn’t help.  He still feels dizzy and sick, and the headache has only gotten worse.  He wants to turn off the lights, but sitting in one position, trying not to vomit from the pain has made his ribs stiff.  Stiff to the point that he isn’t sure he can move.  

He tries to do research, but the words start swimming on the page.  Shit.  Is this even stress?  Is he just having a shitty day?  Is he sick?  He can’t afford to be sick.  If he has to recover from an illness that puts him even farther behind.  No.  It’s just stress.  Stress migraine.  

Probably.  

The Statement didn’t help.  Not enough anyhow.  

He doesn’t want Martin to see just how badly off he is.  Can’t bear the disappointed look, the worrying.  Martin has worried enough.  Jon just wants to hide.  To be miserable in peace, just like has has done for years.  But he doesn’t have flat now.  He has a few clothes and a toothbrush at Martin’s flat now.  He has the same at Georgie’s.  And he has a shelf with some blankets and a few boxes of things from his flat in the stacks.  Far enough back, and semi covered by a tarp that he’s not yet been discovered there.  

He should go there, if he can.  Curl up in his nest of blankets and pillows, see if he can find some Excedrin, and hope that helps.  

He should eat something before the meds, but he’s nearly overcome with nausea when he leavers himself to standing.  Has to detour to expel what little Martin made him eat that morning.  He limps to his shelf.  And nearly cries when he has to try to get himself on in without hurting his ribs more.  

Sneaking off before Martin can notice just how sorry a state he is in.  

He manages to sleep.  Deeply.  Painkillers helping enough that he can pass out for a couple hours.  Probably.  His head still hurts too much to look at his phone.  Enough that he shouldn’t try moving, but he’s certain Martin must be out of his mind with worry.  But…

But he can’t move.  His ribs hurt too much.  And trying to sit up makes him nauseous enough to wonder if he has anything to be ill into should the need arise.  

He wants to sleep more.  He wants to sleep long enough to find the Tim of last year to find him.  He misses his friend.  He wants the old TIm.  He wants the old him.  He wants to be dragged upright at his Research desk by Tim and for Tim to demand to know why he’s at work in such a sorry state.  

He wants Martin to find him.  

He wants Sasha to.  

(He wants his mother to).  

He feels too poorly to pull the blanket up, so he shivers, whimpering a little when that jostles his ribs, jostles his migraine.  

He drifts.  Too nauseous, too achey to really sleep.  

He almost doesn’t hear Martin searching for him.  Sounding tired and worried.  Calling his name, and presumably checking all the rows, all the shelves for somewhere Jon might have tucked himself.  

Jon wants to call back, but the minimal noise Martin is making hurts too much to think about responding.  He’ll find him soon enough.  Probably.  Jon isn’t feeling well enough to disguise his hideaway.  Even if that makes him feel dreadfully exposed.  (Vulnerable to Daisy and Elias and even Melanie and Tim on their more aggressive days).  

He drifts more, as Martin draws closer.  

Jon wakes properly to Martin feeling his forehead.  Brushing a few stray tears away.  Tutting at the fever Jon presumes he is running.  “Oh Jon, why didn’t you say something?  I’ve been so worried.  Burning up, we ought to get you home.”

Jon is ashamed to say he whimpers at the thought of moving.  “Hurts.”  It’s slurred and pathetic.  

Martin shushes him gently.  “Is it alright if I lift you?”  

“Careful.”

“I will be,” Martin promises.  

And he is. 

It still hurts.  

And the cab ride makes him sick.  

But then it’s over and he’s back in Martin’s bed, and he can’t make himself worry about anything anymore.  

[drazzilder]

A Hellish Encounter

By Drazzilder

Chapter 7: Getting Better

It has been one year since you first meet Endeavor. It only took you a few weeks to find an apartment. You use the word apartment loosely. Not many people would want to rent to a wanted criminal, let alone one with a demon living inside of him. It was only one room, with chipping paint, stained floors, cracked windows, dim ceiling light, but it was yours. The only reason you put up with it is because you couldn’t stay in Endeavor’s house forever and it did have 2 windows.

Living with Endeavor was awkward to say the least. Even though it was a family, no one acted like it. No one talked to each other unless it was required. Everyone just lived their own lives under one roof, it was very uncomfortable for you as you could sense the emotions were tense.

However, once you moved out, the paperwork finally was in for you to start your training. Endeavor personally trained you on combat training. He was quiet surprised the first time you took over his body, but his will power was stronger than your power at the time and he was able to break free. You also helped Enji with a lot of office work and you often went to lunch together. There was also the basic training of hero work, how to handle paperwork and deal with the rules and regulations. The one non-hero help you got was a therapist. You saw him every week and it did seem to help you with your emotions and memories. They might not go away, but at least you could keep them managed when they did come to the surface.

Speaking of feelings, you try to keep your feeling for Endeavor under control. At first you thought it was just because he saved you but every time your around him, your heart begins to flutter and you’re an emotional wreck. You get excited when he asked if you want to go out to lunch with him even if it is for business. Red is your favorite color and his crimson hair drives you wild. The way his muscles flex under his hero suit, the way the flames frame his face makes you want to just feel him all over. The first time you saw him without his fire mask, you practically passed out, that jaw line of his, the facial hair, everything was too much. Even thinking about him starts to make you feel all warm inside. That’s the best part about him, warmth. All your life you only knew cold and that man is the epitome of warmth. Just being near him was enough for you to relax. Oh, how you wonder what it would be like to be in his arms. You quickly stop your emotions as you know it will never happen.

You look at yourself in a full-length mirror leaning against the wall. All of the training has managed to put some weight on you, but your still only 160lbs, just under 6 foot. Your still covered in scars. Thanks to Zaheer, you are much stronger than you appear. As you continue to look at yourself, you feel a presence behind you and you look in the mirror. A 9 ft tall muscular body appears with red skin, golden mane with beard and golden horns. His face isn’t entire human, complimented with small white tusks. You see a large hand grip your shoulder as the claws dig in ever so little. He kneels down to match your height.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine Zaheer.” You look over to him instinctively but you just find yourself in an empty room. You look back to the mirror and he is there again.

“We have a big day ahead of us.” He smiles with a toothy grin. His pure white eyes shut with excitement.

“I know, we finally get our hero costume. I wonder how it will look.”

“I’m sure it will look great.” The demon goes to hug you. You look in the mirror and see he is but you only feel a vague presence.

“We better get going, we don’t want to be late!”

You walk for a little while until you reach your destination. It is one of the best hero suit makers in Japan, of course Endeavor would get your costume from there. You are working for him so he wants you to have the best. Once you enter, you see the man himself waiting in the lobby.

“Good Morning (Y/N), how are you today.” He sounds almost tired but you let it go. He is a hero after all and probably tired from everything he does.

“Good morning Endeavor, I hope you were not waiting too long.”

“Not at all, only a few minutes. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” not at all hiding your emotions.

Right as you said that, a woman approach. “Sir, we are ready for you in the fitting room. Follow me.”

You follow her to a hallway with many rooms. Luckily, because of the help you have been getting this doesn’t bother you at all. Once in one of the rooms, you find a hanger with the costume hanging. “Try it on and come out when you’re ready so we can make any adjustments needed.”

It takes you a few moments to get everything one but once you do, you exit and see Endeavor and the tailor sitting quietly. You step out with black boots most of the way up your calf, with straps to hold them tight. Next there are slate gray cargo pants with a red belt holding them up. You have a black tee shirt on with a demonic symbol on the chest in red. A red hoodie vest over that and the hood is down but there are dark red goggles over your eyes: partly to protect them, partly to conceal them. Finally, you have red and black fingerless gloves that go almost to your elbow. You don’t have any weapons as of yet, but you’re not really a combat hero. Endeavor looks over you as the woman gets up and checks the fit of everything. She is going to have to take make some adjustments as you grew a little since she took the measurements, but overall, she is happy with how it turned out.

“Do you like it?” You ask Endeavor.

“Well, I think it looks great, but how do you feel?”

“I like it!”

“And you Zaheer?”

“As long as (Y/N) is happy, I’m happy.”

“Well,” the tailor interrupts “if your happy with it, I’ll go ahead and take it and have the final adjustment for you by tomorrow. Just one last thing, what is your hero name for the records”

“My hero name?” You thought. You never have given much thought before but one name does come to mind. “Don’t laugh, but I think I have one.”

“What would that be sir?”

“Hellboy.” You state quietly almost expecting a laugh from both of them. “Hell for Zaheer and boy for me. The only reason I thought of boy is because I get called that all the time.”

“I only call you that when I’m angry.”

“Your angry a lot because that’s all you call me.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it.” Endeavor chimes in. “I kinda like it, it’s short and to the point.”

“Thank you.” You almost sigh with relief.

“Well, that takes care of that. If you could change out of your costume, you can be on your way.”

You both start heading out. It’s around noon now after everything. You start to get hungry.

“Did you want to get some lunch, Endeavor.”

“That’s fine, and you don’t have to keep calling me Endeavor, you can call me Enji when we are not working.”

“Oh, alright Enji. Did you want to get some katsu?”

“Hmm, that does sound good right about now.”

“Great! I know of this great place we can go.”

You walk for a little while until you round a corner to a back ally and go into a small restaurant. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in almost a month, I was getting worried about you.” The older man greets you and Enji. You sit down at the long bar and look over the menu. You get your favorite pork katsu while Enji goes for chicken. You two have some continue small talk. Even though you have seen Enji without flames on his face and in normal clothes, you still find yourself looking at him more. You find him so attractive. You internally try to push the feelings down: he is your boss, the person who trains you. You can’t have feeling for him, but he notices you staring at him and he raises and eyebrow while looking at you. You quickly look back to your food and jam a huge amount in your mouth to distract him from your stares.

After you pay and leave, your about to head to the agency but you forgot your phone at your apartment.

“Can we go back to my apartment real quick, I forgot my phone.”

“You’re always forgetting that phone of yours. Very well, we can go get it but make it quick.”

“Alright, follow me, it’s not far from here.”

You walk about a mile more. As you get closer to your building, you two start going deeper into the more dangerous part of the city. Enji knows that this is where more of the crime happens, he doesn’t believe that you live near here.

“Just a little further, it’s that building there.”

The building has half of the windows broken or cracked, the walls are starting to fall apart and the building overall looks like it should be condemned. Enji is still silent as you enter the building. The smell of chemicals and vomit fill the main lobby. He almost gags as you head up the crumbing stairs and was you walk down the hall, the doors of each apartment slam closed as each resident sees Enji. You open your door and he sees your room. He takes a good look at it as you grab your phone, you turn around and see the shock on his face.

“You can’t possible live here.”

“This is all I could get, not many people are going to rent to a fugitive.”

“How is this building not condemned?”

“I didn’t ask, I just wanted to get a place to live. I didn’t want to stay to long with you; I felt like I would be imposing.”

“You’re coming back with me. I can’t have you living here, it’s not safe.” He grabs your arm as he pulls you out of the apartment.

“But I still have a month…..”

“We are leaving now! I’ll have someone come get your things.”

You two quickly leave the apartment faster than you entered. Enji almost seems mad that you have been living in suck squalor. Secretly, deep in your heart, you’re glad to go back to live with him.

Next Chapter

[musings-from-mars]

@nuts-and-dolts-week - Day 8: Bonus Day!

For Bonus Day, with some inspiration from the FS discord, I gave myself a little challenge to create a story that somehow integrates every prompt for Nuts and Dolts Week! And this is the result!

This has been such a fun event to be a part of, and not only that, this is the first ship week I’ve ever completed! That may not be a huge accomplishment but I’m still super happy 🥰 Thank you to Bio for running this event and to everyone who created content for it, you’re all so talented and sensational!

You can read all my other NnD Week submissions on AO3, maybe kudo and comment if you are so inclined~ Hope you enjoy, thank you so much for reading!

Nuts and Dolts Week 2021 Stories - MusingsFromMars on AO3

Tomorrow they would graduate from Beacon, but tonight, they would have one more picnic in the Emerald Forest.

With a basket full of food and treats in the crook of her elbow, Ruby walked along with Penny down the familiar hillside trail, hiking into the forest towards what they had begun to call Their Spot. The sun at this point was almost set, bathing the partly cloudy sky with a bright orange hue. An evening picnic might have been unusual to most, but to the couple of soon-to-be huntresses, it was perfect.

Since this would be the last time they’d have a picnic like this together, they both went all-out with their preparations. Penny had dressed in her favorite white flowery dress and sun hat, and even had cute sparkly pink lip gloss, eyeliner, and green eyeshadow (all courtesy of Belladonna Cosmetic Services). Ruby had gone even more formal, wearing a white button-up, black suspenders and bow tie, and a red skirt. Weiss had remarked to her that this was a bit much for a picnic, but Ruby assured her that this was perfect for the occasion. Weiss couldn’t be blamed for not knowing all of her plans, after all. In fact, no one else knew what Ruby was planning for this evening.

Tucked securely in her shirt pocket was a small velvet drawstring pouch. Inside it was a ring, Penny’s ring. Ruby had made it herself. Even though her area of expertise was weapons crafting and not jewelry design, she was happy with how it turned out. She even felt confident that Penny would love it, too. Ruby had made it with her in mind, after all. And tonight would be the night that she would give it to Penny and ask her to marry her.

Ruby felt oddly calm about her plan right now. She had imagined herself being really nervous and unable to keep quiet about her plan for long, but now that they were on their way to the very spot she would propose, Ruby felt confident and at ease. Maybe that was the effect Penny had on her. Ruby always felt more comfortable whenever Penny was nearby. It was as if seeing her happy and safe was enough to put everything in perspective. How bad could a problem be if Penny were there for her?

Once they arrived at Their Spot, Penny unfurled the blanket she’d had tucked under her arm, spreading it out over the grass. From here, the thick treeline blocked out the setting sun, leaving them surrounded by soft shadows and gentle warm hues from the dusk sky. 

This was all routine by this point. Penny would lay out the blanket, they’d both sit down and open the basket, and Ruby would start munching away at a sandwich while Penny made some tea (using a kettle, the water they packed, and her ability to hold anything in her hand and superheat it, of course). Penny enjoyed making tea this way because it made it easy to smell the complex aromas. While Penny’s tech advancements still didn’t allow her to taste, she at least had made a breakthrough and could now smell things, and tea was one of her favorites. “I am brewing lavender chamomile,” Penny said to Ruby. “It is the tea we had together the first time we had a picnic here.”

Ruby finished her bite of sandwich and smiled. “I love how you can remember little details like that.”

“I remember most everything,” Penny said. “Though our first picnic is certainly easy to recall. It was a lovely occasion.”

“Besides us starting a minor forest fire with Weiss’ electric kettle,” Ruby recounted with a laugh.

“And that is why we use this method now.” Penny nodded to the kettle, holding its underside. “It is much less dangerous.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be trusted around hot surfaces,” Ruby said with a giggle, then took another bite of sandwich. “Do you…” She began, but recalled her manners and swallowed her food before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”

“Of course,” Penny said with a grin. “The one you essentially had to force me to go on.”

“I didn’t force you, did I?” Ruby asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I was certainly nervous about raising the ire of General Ironwood,” she recalled. “But I am quite thankful you did convince me to go to the arcade with you, even if the General was cross with me.”

“You got so many tickets!” Ruby remembered.

“The patterns and rhythms of those arcade machines were not very sophisticated. They were easily exploited for maximum payout.”

“I still have that big plush frog we got as a prize somewhere,” Ruby remembered. “What did we call him?”

“Mister Bumpy Butt.”

“Mister Bumpy Butt!” Ruby said with a grin. “Because he had—”

“—bumps on his butt!” Penny finished for her.

“I still say he should talk to his frog doctor about that,” Ruby joked. 

“Indeed, butt bumps could be a sign of underlying illness.”

Ruby snorted and laughed, leaning over and lying her head on Penny’s shoulder. “Gods, we’re so weird.”

“Yes, but I enjoy being weird with you,” Penny replied, smiling as she leaned her cheek against the top of Ruby’s head. 

“As do I,” Ruby agreed. 

As Ruby took another bite of sandwich, Penny’s kettle began to whistle, and she retrieved two mugs from the basket. One mug already had a few sugar cubes sitting in the bottom. That was Ruby’s mug, of course. Penny filled both with hot tea and handed one to her. No matter what kind of tea it was, Ruby always had to drink it with sugar (much to Weiss’ and Blake’s horror). She took a careful sip and hummed happily. “Perfect as always, Penny.”

“Why thank you,” Penny beamed and set the empty kettle aside. She cradled her mug with both hands and enjoyed the smell of the tea as steam floated from the mug and into the air. She watched as Ruby sipped her tea, then asked, “Do you remember about a couple years before we met properly in Vale, you had accidentally met me when I was still in development at Atlas Academy?”

Ruby’s eyes went wide, and she had to make sure to swallow her tea lest she choke on it before answering, “I almost forgot all about that!”

Penny grinned and nodded. “You know, my father almost deleted that conversation from my memory for fear of ‘contamination,’ but then figured he had advanced my software far enough to the point that my interaction with you might be beneficial. And it turns out it was!”

“How so?” Ruby asked curiously, sipping her tea a bit more carefully.

“I think back to that meeting, and the way I remember it, from that day forward I had so much confidence when meeting new people. I admit, it took me a while to really understand that I might have been, well...forward with new acquaintances, but I think because you, the first ‘stranger’ I ever met, were so nice to me, it made me so optimistic about meeting new people.” She smiled at Ruby. “And that’s why I have so many friends now. All thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me and my insatiable curiosity,” Ruby added with a giggle. “But that’s honestly really sweet. I’m glad I ran into laptop you all those years ago.”

“That laptop was not the most aesthetically pleasing chassis to inhabit. I mean, I had very little physical self-awareness at that point, but looking back on it…”

“Yeah, you’re way sexier now,” Ruby joked.

“Precisely!” Penny agreed wholeheartedly, once again making Ruby laugh.

The sun had fully set by now, and stars began to dot the dark blue sky. The daytime warmth still lingered, but a gentle breeze began to slowly whisk it away.

“Ruby, look at me.”

Ruby blinked and looked her way, surprised by the suddenness of her request. “Huh?”

Penny only stared at her in the face, not offering an explanation. A few seconds later, she smiled and nodded. “Yep. Quite similar indeed.”

“What?” Ruby asked.

“Your eyes,” Penny said. “They look so similar to the moon when it is dark out.” She looked over Ruby’s shoulder. “But I have never gotten to make a side-by-side comparison until now.”

Ruby turned and looked the same way and saw the shattered moon. It had been just behind her head from Penny’s view. Ruby giggled and looked back at her girlfriend. “You’re so sweet.” 

Penny smiled wide, her green eyes practically glowing with happiness. 

“You know,” Ruby began, leaning a bit closer to Penny. “I don’t think I could compare your eyes to anything.”

Penny tilted her head to the side a bit. “Oh? How come?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re just so bright and shiny and green.”

Penny blinked, then her cheeks glowed a faint green. “You mean my eyes are incomparable?”

Ruby hadn’t realized her own romantic turn of phrase, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, exactly! There’s nothing in the world quite like your pretty eyes.”

Penny smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Ruby’s cheek. “You are so sweet.” Then her eyes went wide, noticing something else behind Ruby. “Oh, the fireflies!”

Ruby gasped and turned her head quickly, and sure enough, the night’s first lightning bugs were beginning to emerge, darting about and glowing. More and more appeared, blinking in a constant array of light like a visual symphony. 

“It has been so long since we have seen so many,” Penny said with delight. “Oh, I am so happy they appeared tonight. You know it is almost as if they knew this was our last picnic here, because at this time of year their numbers typically begin to dwindle due to the changes in weather…”

Penny was once again infodumping about insects and Ruby’s heart swelled with a familiar adoration. She wanted to kiss her so bad, but that would mean interrupting Penny as she talked about the temperature preferences of flying bugs. She held off her desire to tackle her into the grass and pepper her face with kisses until later. In the meantime, she set her tea aside and propped her elbows on her knees, all while watching those aforementioned incomparable eyes as they followed the flights of nearby fireflies as she continued. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Penny’s voice began to trail away, and she turned to look at Ruby. “Oh, I have been talking for quite some time, huh?”

“Yeah, but I like listening to you talk about fireflies, Firefly,” Ruby said softly with a smile, still with her hands under her chin, still resting her elbows on her knees. 

Penny chuckled bashfully. “They are just such fascinating creatures.”

“Hey Penny?”

“Hm?” Penny turned, her eyes meeting Ruby’s again. With the moon reflecting off her eyes, they almost seemed to shine. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Penny smiled gently.

Ruby reached out and took Penny’s hand in hers, then took a moment to look around. “Uhm, here.” She got to her feet, still holding Penny’s hand. “This way.”

Penny stood and followed as Ruby led her off the picnic blanket and onto the grass. They walked through the grass a few steps, fireflies floating about them as if used to their presence. Ruby stopped and faced Penny.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and despite the slowly falling temperatures outside, she was beginning to feel a little hot under her button-up. Here was the nervousness she expected to feel earlier, springing up just as she was about to do what this entire evening was leading to. She took a breath and fidgeted a bit with her bow tie.

“Are you okay?” Penny asked quietly, still holding one of Ruby’s hands. 

“I’m...great,” Ruby said. It sounded like a lie, but it wasn’t. She felt anxious, sweaty, and absolutely fantastic all at once. “Penny, I… I have something to ask you. It’s important.”

Penny nodded, giving her her full attention. 

Ruby took a breath and nodded. “Penny, when I told you that you are a real girl, I meant it. That day in that alleyway in Vale, I could see how unsure you were, how scared you were. And yet, when I assured you that you’re as real to me as I am to you, you believed me. I could definitely tell how happy that moment made you feel from how hard you hugged me, but...it made me happy, too. To know that I had said something to make you feel real…” Oh no, tears. Not now, tears. “And you believed me.”

Penny stepped a little closer and nodded. “Of course I believed you.”

Ruby smiled, but she willed herself to continue. “Then that day when I thought you were going back to Atlas. I was so scared because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see you again. I ran to find you, and I confessed to you right then and there that I loved you, that I couldn’t let you leave because I knew that you wanted to stay just as much as I wanted you to stay. And…” She was losing her fight against her tears, one escaping and running down her cheek as a smile grew on her face. “I said I love you. And...you believed me.”

“Of course I believed you,” Penny said again with a soft chuckle. She lifted her hand and gently wiped away Ruby’s tears. “I have loved you since the day we became friends.”

Ruby nodded and sniffed. “So have I.” She wiped at her own face, doing her best to compose herself. She wanted to get this moment exactly right. “And now we’re here tonight, for like the hundred-dozenth time. And…” She stared at Penny for a second, taking in a deep breath. She let it out slowly, then reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out the pouch. Penny’s eyes followed as Ruby loosened the drawstring, flipped the pouch over, and let a ring roll from the bag and into her hand. It was a shiny bronze color, with red and green gems embedded in a zigzag configuration all around the circumference. Ruby pocketed the pouch and held the ring between her thumb and index finger. She looked up at Penny and saw her eyes were wide, as if she were slowly beginning to understand. 

“Ruby…?”

“And now I’m asking you to marry me,” Ruby said, chuckling with a grin. “Can you believe that?”

“Ruby…” Penny covered her mouth with her hand.

Ruby got down on one knee, holding the ring up to her. Her nerves were gone, replaced only with a blooming joy in her chest. She will never forget the look on Penny’s face at this very moment. “Penny, will you marry me?”

Penny proceeded to tackle hug her to the ground. Ruby grunted and laughed as her back hit the grass. “Yes!” Penny lied on top of Ruby and smiled down at her. “Yes, I will marry you, Ruby!” She kissed her, and Ruby hummed softly and wrapped her arms around Penny’s neck, deepening the kiss. Her nerves were a distant memory now. Now she felt like she was floating just like the fireflies around them, with the love of her life in her arms.

After their kiss, they both found their way back to their feet. Ruby was glad to have held tight to the ring both during and after getting tackled, and she smiled at Penny as she took her hand. “Well then,” she slipped the ring onto her, a perfect fit. “Just call me fiancée.”

Penny grinned and hugged her again, not tackling her but still squeezing tight. “I love you.”

Ruby hugged her back, happily sinking deeper into the embrace. “I love you too,” she whispered. 

After reveling in this embrace for a while longer, Ruby opened her eyes and looked up, seeing the Beacon tower in the distance. In a lot of ways, this place had changed her life. She had fulfilled her dream of becoming a huntress and had made friends that she’d forever consider family. But at this very moment, she felt the most thankful for having met Penny. If coming to Beacon had changed her life, then meeting Penny was what made it brighter. She would never forget the years she spent here, but when it came to her and Penny, they had countless more memories to make in the future, together as real girls, as wives.

[themasterisathirsttrap]

Putting Out Fire (With Gasoline) Ch. 2

Guess who’s still alive and just posted a new chapter of Putting Out Fire??

(Still sort of on hiatus, but now having some bursts of creativity, so sorry for the wait and enjoy!

Wow, this chapter took forever. I genuinely forgot how much plot setup happens in the first 10 minutes of 10x11. Very dialogue-heavy from the actual episode this time, but I promise for future chapters should have a better flow. Let me know what you think!

Chapter warnings: Nothing huge this time, aside from violence. But I will place warnings for future chapters))

@twistedgoddessoftimelords

@anteroom-of-death

@justaproudslytherpuff

@hallospaceboyy

@shawtyhadthemapplebottomjeans

--

As you stood huddled behind Missy, flanked on either side by Nardole and Bill, you felt far more apprehensive than you cared to admit.

Despite this, when you caught Bill’s uneasy look in your direction, you gave a small reassuring smile back at her. You moved closer and playfully nudged her with your elbow, causing her worried expression to soften into a small smile.

You could tell your friend was on edge and not keen on the idea of Missy taking the lead for the distress call mission the Doctor drafted up. You felt the thrum of nerves too, but you knew it was important to keep a calm face if there was any chance of showing the others what you had seen in the Time Lady.

It wasn’t even The Time Lady with whom you had something of a confusing relationship with that had you on edge. You had the feeling that she actually was wanting to take on the Doctor’s challenge to be him for a day, and do it well enough to rub it in his face.

Sure, you didn’t doubt she definitely would scare the lot of you just to make you squirm, but the root of your wariness was less the Time Lady and more knowing that you were jumping at the first distress signal the TARDIS picked up.

Despite knowing the Doctor for months now, you hadn’t quite gotten used to his cavalier approach to life-endangering situations. You had truly only been on a few adventures with him in the TARDIS. This partly had to do with the role you had accidentally adopted with Missy, and partly because you preferred your adventures with little bit more research and more calculated risks than jumping in and hoping for the best.

“Don’t you want to at least do a little digging before responding to the first distress call you find?” You had asked as the Doctor locked in coordinates to the distress signal. “Well, they’re in distress, there’s no time,” he responded brusquely, pulling down a lever beside you as you folded your arms. “You have a time machine. How do we not have time?” He huffed at you, turning his head to give a deadpan stare in response at the fault in his own logic, but you couldn’t help but shake your head and crack a smile as he waved his hand in dismissal.

“He thinks it’s more fun that way, ” Missy teased. To which the Doctor shot an annoyed look in her direction, but didn’t otherwise correct her.

“Figuring out what’s really going on is half the fun. If the Doctor wants to see how I do playing as him, we might as well go with full authenticity. Complete lack of foresight and all.”  Missy offered with a sly grin and spun her umbrella with a flourish.

The Doctor had rolled his eyes at her before letting them rest back on you. “It’ll be fine. I promise,” he assured with a quick pat on your shoulder as he passed you.

Yet, now, standing in quiet anticipation as the TARDIS landed, you felt far less sure.

Maybe you were being ridiculous. The Doctor had done this god knows how many times, and it clearly had worked out for him.

But you’re not the Doctor.

You tried to shake yourself off that sudden, stark thought.

“Showtime, ladies,” Missy announced, breaking you away from your thoughts. She met your gaze for a long beat, a smirk playing on her lips as she adjusted her feathered hat to tilt further forward on her head, and tapped the floor with her umbrella for emphasis.

You almost wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. The moment passed as she turned away and swung the TARDIS door open. Upon her first step out its doors, she struck an exaggerated pose, her hand resting on her hip with confident ease.

“Hello. I'm Doctor Who,” Missy said, drawing out the name and pausing for dramatic effect. She stepped out of the TARDIS with a small hop. “And these are my plucky assistants, Thing One, The Tolerable One, and the Other One.” She continued, seemingly addressing no one in particular into an empty control room.

The three of you step out of the Tardis behind Missy. Even you stop yourself from rolling your eyes, but otherwise remained quiet as you reached up and adjusted your, clunky earpiece that fit pressed uncomfortably against your ear.

Nardole sighed behind you and stepped to the side, gesturing to your little group. “Bill. Nardole. Y/n.” Nardole said in a flat tone. “--We picked up your distress call,” she continued, ignoring the bald android and offering an exaggerated wink towards the security camera above as it mechanically adjusted and appeared to zoom in to examine you and your companions.

“—and here we are to help, like awesome heroes.” Missy added, clearly enjoying herself as she swung her umbrella around and gave an extra twirl across the room as she approached the center. She must have felt your eyes on her, as her head suddenly whipped back towards you with a smirk and sent another wink in your direction.

“Yeah, we're not, we're not assistants—“ Bill corrected flatly, annoyed and unamused, but knowing that her words would likely have little influence on the Time Lady.

“Okay, right, what, so what does he call you? Companions? Pets? Snacks?” Any retort you might have tried to muster immediately died in your throat as an alarm began to blare around you, the room’s lights flashing from blue an ominous red. “Oh, someone's watching.”

Evidently unphased by the new development, Missy began to sway back and forth to the tempo of the alarm, kicking her heels out with each step to the rhythm. “Well, that's quite a good beat, really, isn't it?” “—Yeah. Maybe we should be moving on?” Nardole piped in, his wary voice a stark contrast from Missy’s apparent nonchalance.

“Yeah, and he calls us friends,” Bill cut in defensively, visibly shifting from annoyed to mildly offended. “Ew, Doctor. But think of the age gap. “

You knew she said it to irritate the Doctor. But that didn’t stop the quiet huff of indignance from slipping past your lips. It stung a bit more than you cared to admit, your heart sinking slightly at the comment.

You folded your arms across your chest and subtly angled yourself away from her in hopes that she didn’t catch a glimpse of your disheartened expression.

Missy set her parasol down on a nearby chair and unpinned her hat. “Stop mucking about and concentrate.”

The Doctor spoke up again through the earpiece. “Nardole, do something non-irritating. “

“On it, sir!” “Time Lords are friends with each other, dear,” Missy continued, ignoring the Doctor and sounding almost bored as she looked at her reflection in a glass panel. She paused at the reflection and adjusted her hair and examined the state of her makeup, before blowing an exaggerated kiss into the air.

“Everything else is cradle-snatching.”

At that statement, you were truly bothered.

“Sounds a bit limiting,” you shot back, an edge subconsciously creeping into your voice. You still avoided looking in her direction and studied the surrounding control room panels and monitors with feigned interest.

“Glad to hear you think so highly of our company,” you added, furrowing your brow.. Maybe it was stupid to think she saw you as a friend.

You only had visited her nearly every day for the better part of a year. You didn’t realize that you hadn’t even made her species requirement for friendship.

While attempting to mask the layered emotions connected with that realization hitting you, you barely even registered Nardole and the Doctor’s voices as you attempted to keep your expression mostly blank.

Part of you knew that she was likely saying it just to get under Bill’s skin. Yet, you couldn’t help but note that she spoke the words with a little too much conviction to make you think it was entirely a lie.

“Oh, it's a big one. Ship reads as four hundred miles long.”

You tuned out mentally from the rapid back and forth over the earpiece and quietly moved to sit on the nearby chair, ignoring the weight of Missy’s gaze on you.

You didn’t bother looking up and reclined into the seat, propping your elbow up on the armrest and supporting your head on your hand. You dimly realized you might have resembled a bored child as you kept your blank expression, your gaze drifted across the room and looking everywhere but at the Time Lady.

“And a hundred miles wide,” Nardole added. “It's big, even for a colony ship,” the Doctor’s voice sounded through the earpiece

“Anything else?” Your attention shifted again as Missy looked upward, something suddenly catching her attention. You followed the direction of her gaze and your eyes widened.

“Oh, wow.” “It's heading towards a black hole. “ “No….” Missy’s voice suddenly sounded pensive, as she stared up at the black hole through through the circular glass window. Her attention broke away from the black hole and you cursed yourself quietly as you made the mistake of meeting her eyes.

Her words were directed at the Doctor, but her gaze lingered on you. She studied you for another long beat, something unidentifiable flashing in her eyes as her lips twitched downward into a frown.

Whatever silent moment you might have just had passed as the Doctor chimed back in through the earpiece.

“No, it isn't!” “It was,” Missy corrected, studying the ship’s navigational readings overhead. “--heading towards a black hole, until somebody noticed. Now they're trying to reverse away from it. Engines are on reverse thrust, see?” Her tone came off a little less biting than before. You found yourself nodding idly and gazing up at the ominous vortex swirling above you.

“Oh. Well, it's succeeding,” Nardole noted. “Yes...very, very slowly. “ Missy added, seeming to almost float towards where you sat with a casual, predatory grace.

“Explains the distress call, I guess.”

“So, a four-hundred mile ship, reversing away from the gravitational pull of a black hole. Are we having fun yet?” The Doctor asked.

Missy hummed in a pleased sound of agreement, and you nearly jumped at her voice being suddenly close to your ear, teasing in a light voice. “See? We’re having fun. You can stop pouting now, pet.”

You blinked in surprise, tilting your head back and opening your mouth to retort, but a sudden crackle drew your attention back to the wall in front of you.  A large screen buzzed to life and the face of a man appeared on the monitor, his voice heavily distorted by static. “Hello? Who's there? Hello? Please report status. “ Missy had already darted half-way across the room towards the screen. You stood, your curiosity getting better of you.

“Oh, hello,” Missy chimed, “What have we got here?”

She studied the man on the screen, casually resting an elbow atop what you assumed to be a pilot chair.

“You're probably handsome, aren't you? Well, congratulations on your relative symmetry. “

You couldn’t help the scoffed laugh that emitted from you at the comment,  earning a sidelong look from Bill.

“Who are you?” the man on the screen said, almost accusatory, scrunching his face in confusion.

“Well, I am that mysterious adventurer in all of time and space, known only as Doctor Who,” she said with one arm raised in a dramatic gesture and gusto that wouldn’t have surprised you if she had rehearsed.

You had moved beside her to get a better look at the screen  and blinked in surprise as she suddenly wrapped an arm around you and gripped your shoulders with a squeeze. “And these are my disposables, Exposition, Sidekick, and Comic Relief. “ “We're not functions,” Nardole said with a grimace. “Darling, those were genders. “

“--Please, stay exactly where you are for your own safety,” the man on the screen continued, sounding unamused by Missy’s explanation.. “He likes me. So exciting,“ she looked to you with a conspiring look. “I'm coming through,” man on the screen said before the feed abruptly cut-out.

You looked towards Nardole and Bill in alarm, but Missy seemed not at all phased by the man’s brusque announcement. “Hurry, my stallion. And if I'm in the shower, just bring me some beans on toast. That's roughly human flirting, isn't it?” Missy offered you another wink, and you slowly shook your head in skepticism. Her hand briefly brushed across your shoulder as she stepped away. Bill’s face scrunched in confusion. “So, why do you keep calling yourself Doctor Who?” Missy tilted her head, hand resting at her hip as she narrowed her eyes at Bill’s question. “Because I'm pretending to be him. Because that's the whole point of this ridiculous exercise.” She spoke slowly, the scottish enunciations in her voice stronger with each word.

“It's not an exercise, it's a test.” The Doctor said, jumped back in, his voice distorted by a crunch heard on the other side of the line.

“Are you eating?”

Again, the amplified crinkle of plastic through the earpiece. “No. “ The Doctor countered unconvincingly like a child caught in a lie. “Yeah, well, don't test me eating crips!” Missy snapped in irritation at the notion.

You wandered over by Nardole to peer at the screen of the computer he was typing away at with a stern expression.

You couldn’t make sense of what any of it meant, all unintelligible numbers and alien code you didn’t understand, but it still felt more engaging than the listless banter that already was giving you a headache.

“—Yeah, but he's called the Doctor, so….” Bill continued, revisiting Missy’s prior  statement. Missy didn’t miss a beat, “--He says, I'm the Doctor, and they say, Doctor who? See, I'm cutting to the chase, baby. I'm streamlining. I'm saving us actual minutes,” she added, leaning into each movement and  snapping her fingers at each word for emphasis.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Bill scoffed, turning away from her. “—Also it's his real name.” “It's what?” Bill said, abruptly spinning back to face the Time Lady. You actually did roll your eyes that time at Missy toying with Bill. Missy slid into the seat beside her, ignoring Bill’s question.

“Slow today, Missy,” the Doctor commented. “All those screens have been angled to a single viewpoint. But not originally, they've all been moved. “ “Which means? “ “Giant ship, single pilot, but not designed that way. Something's happened to the others.” “Yes. And now It's time for you to figure out what. “ With an electronic whirr, the group’s attention shifted to the CCTV cameras moving abruptly and settling onto them. “Uh oh...Someone else has noticed us.” Nardole’s voice remained low, but he rose to his feet in alarm, glancing around with caution.

“Look’s like Big Brother’s not happy…” you attempted in a weak joke, eyeing the camera warily.

“Sorry, what do you mean, it's his real name? Nobody knows the Doctor's real name. “I do, because I grew up with him, and his real name is Doctor Who.”

“-Bill, she's just trying to wind you up.”

“--Chose it himself, you know, trying to sound mysterious.”

“And then he dropped the Who when he realised it was a tiny bit on the nose.”

“--and Mistress isn’t?” you countered. Missy raised a brow, regarding you and your sudden cheekiness with mild amusement. “Well, yes it’s my name, but I go by Missy now so it’s not the same, is it? It’s called subtlety. ”

“Missy, we both know subtlety isn’t in your vocabulary. Now stop teasing them and focus.”  “Is she serious, though, Doctor? Is your real name Doctor Who?” Bill pressed and you half-groaned, hoping they would just drop it and figure out exactly who or what was coming. As if on cue, you heard the soft ding of an elevator and looked up as a set of mechanical doors slid open at the far end of the room. You took a harsh  intake of air as a bald man with blue skin emerged through the doors, decidedly not friendly, as he raised a  gun and pointed it immediately in the direction of your group.

“Oh, you're blue! Nice. I should go back to blue. Ow!” Nardole began in a far-too cheery voice, causing you to jab your elbow harshly into his side to possibly improve your chances of not being shot.

“And armed…” you added under your breath, careful not to make any sudden movements as he visually swept the room and rounded the control panel. You now noticed his erratic, jerky movements as he circled back again, training the gun at each of you.

“Stay where you are!” he ordered. There was a desperate, wild look in his eyes.

You froze, eyeing the man cautiously  before stealing a glance at Missy. She appeared calm, but her expression was decidedly stoic. “Stay calm. He's very frightened,” the Doctor warned, his voice mostly even, but betraying his alarm at the situation.

“Deary me, I thought you were handsome, and now you've gone all cross and you're pointing a gun at me,” Missy’s voice dropped from teasing to low and threatening.

“Is this the emotion you humans call spanking?”

If you weren’t fearing for your friends and your own safety, you might have blushed at the way Missy’s eyes lingered on you at the word ‘spanking’.

But the moment was unfortunately undercut by the unhinged alien man pointing a gun at you.

“Are there only four of you? Are any of you human?” the man raised his voice at the word, an an anger and fear in his voice that made your stomach churn.

You sucked in a sharp intake of air as he stepped forward, jamming his gun in front of Nardole’s face. Nardole immediately held his hands up and started shaking  his head.

You cast a worried glance at Bill, who met your eyes with fear that you had no doubt was mirrored in your own.

Dragging your attention back to the man, you now noticed the sweat beading across the man’s brow and the slight tremor in the grip on his weapon. Behind his efforts to appear in control, you began to suspect that something happened here that had left him utterly shaken.

“What has happened to this ship and how long have you been here alone? You're looking very sickly,“ Missy pressed. “Two days,” he replied before turning towards Missy in an accusing tone. “Are you human?” “Oh, don't be a bitch.”

The man grimaced. “How did you get on board? Is that your capsule?” “Yep,” Missy replied without hesitation, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at the blue box.

“No.” the Doctor countered.

The man shifted away and up to one of the display panels. You realize  that he’s staring at the illuminated numbers above another set of metal doors.

“There, look!” the man pointed across the room, rushing towards a set of display panels.

You knew none of you were out of the woods yet, but you couldn’t help but release a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding at the new distance between you.

Now that he had taken his attention elsewhere, your eyes urgently surveyed the room. You needed to find something to distract him for at least long enough to knock his gun away to buy time. “Three lifts. They're coming,” the blue man spoke again, his voice laced with panic.

He appeared to be right. One hovered at level 0718, and the other two on 0930. “Who’s coming?” you ask. “Super-fast inertia lifts,” Missy noted, nodding towards the display. “Well, what's inside? What's coming up here?” “Things. I don't even know where they came from,” the man shook his head in dismay,  fidgeting and becoming more visibly agitated as the numbers dropped with each second. “One of you must be human. They only come up if they detect human life signs.”

Floor 350

“What for?” Bill asked. “They take them away,” the man replied.

“Away to where…?” you pressed, eyeing the man with skepticism. “I'll be right with you.” The Doctor announced abruptly, doing little to ease the growing dread in your stomach.

“Which of you is human?” the man shouted again, causing you to jump at the sudden intensity of volume and emotion in his voice. Training his weapon on each of you with an edge of desperation in his movements. you didn’t dare make a sudden move.

The doors of the TARDIS abruptly  swung open, the movement making  the blue man pivot and retrain his weapon towards the new arrival. You watched as the Doctor emerged, his arms raised and movements slow, but his keen gaze acutely trained on the danger in front of him.

You froze at the unexpected voice that spoke up. “Me. Me, me. I'm human,” Bill began, and your eyes snapped towards her in alarm. Immediately she locked eyes with you for a brief moment with a loaded look, making the sounds of protest die in your throat and fade into a mortified silence.

“I'm the only one. Just, just me,” Bill continued, her voice firm and assertive despite the fear evident in her eyes.

You bite your tongue. It was all you could do to stop yourself from shouting at her to stop talking and let the Doctor convince the man his systems must have made a mistake. Even that wasn’t enough to stop yourself from the mounting desire to tackle the man while he was distracted. Just to do something to stop this stranger from pointing a gun at your friend.

The only thing that muted the impulse was a sudden sharp sensation at your wrist. A sensation like a vice grip of needle points pressed against the flesh of your forearm and you didn’t need to look back to realize just who was responsible.

Missy stood silently beside you, her movement  obscured from the stranger’s view, and her grip stung as she dug her nails down with near bruising insistence. A silent warning to not do anything impulsive.

It was almost sweet, coming from her. But only when considering how little regard you knew she held for human life. You didn’t doubt your arm would be adored little half-moon bruises when she let go. Grimly, you realized you’d be satisfied with simply living long enough to even see them form, given your current predicament.

The Doctor froze at Bill’s proclamation, fear now morphing his shocked expression to one of horror. He nearly leapt forward in desperation, pleading with the blue man. “Please stop this. Stop right there, now.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but you're the reason that they're coming. “ The man raised his weapon again. “Put it down. Put that down now,” the Doctor repeated, his voice calm despite his fearful expression. The man shook his head, holding the gun steady with resolution. “They won't come if she's dead.”

Floor 45

“You don't need to do this,” the Doctor pleaded, slowly moving closer with his hands raised to show himself as unarmed. “I can get her off this ship. I can shield her life signs,” the Doctor continued his attempt at persuasion. “You know what, Doctor? I said this was a bad idea,” Bill said quietly, tearing her eyes from the man with the gun and addressing the Doctor directly.

Floor 26

“Please, listen to me. Look at me. Go on, look at me. That's good. That's very, very good. Now, do you see this mad woman sitting in this chair? Her name isn't Doctor Who. My name is Doctor Who.” “—It's not, is it?” Nardole muttered and you fought the urge to slap the friendly android in that particular moment.

The Doctor nearly stood within reaching distance of the man. You suddenly recognized something in this careful posturing that gave you a spark of hope for the situation.

The Doctor aimed to disarm him. Now, he just needed to buy a couple more seconds. Your eyes flicker back to the number display as the lift seemed to pause between floors 8 and 7.

Floor 7

“—I like it. You don't know it yet, but in a short time, you will trust me with your life. And when I save you and everyone on your ship, one day you will look back, and wonder who I was and why I did--”

Both you and Doctor knew he was rambling to buy time, but the sound of the lift’s ding at arrival caused the blue man to suddenly flinch.

You heard the gun discharge before registering what had happened, and your stomach dropped in horror.

“—Bill!”

“—You fucking bastard.”

[hankwritten]

Litany

Gen, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 1: Flag

“And what is the meaning of these?”

It was a good idea not to make Miss Helen pissy. She was the Boss around here, and not in the way Miss Pauling was the boss, but like the Boss with a capital B. I wasn’t exactly sure if she owned the building, or maybe the company, or maybe she was just our lawyer so we shouldn’t tee her off because of that, but the way Dell had explained it making her mad was a good way to have your desk packed by the end of the day.

So, I’d have to be very delicate about this. “They’re pins, Miss Helen,” I explained extremely politely. “It’s the first day of Pride Month; I thought everyone could do with a little company spirit!”

“Spirit?” The T on the end of the word popped like a firecracker. Miss Helen could make nice words like spirit or rainbows sound like she was actually saying dog doody. “And how exactly do these pins make you…prideful?”

“They’re fun!”

When she didn’t react, I at first assumed it was because she couldn’t hear me so well through my respirator, but then I considered what I knew about her and wondered maybe she simply didn’t know what fun was.

“Look,” I said, placing one in the palm of her hand. “It has a flag on it! I was thinking as people are coming in during the day, they can pick them out and wear them if they want to, just to show off a little color. See? This one is the bigender flag.”

She held it up and examined it like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. “And you find this…fun?

“Yeah!”

She waited, as though expecting the fun to start radiating out of the pin like a hand warmer. “…You certainly have quite a few of these.”

It was true. Along with the usual lollipops and stickers I kept at the front desk (the former being exclusively for clients and never-ever for sneaking myself one, no siree), the scattering of buttons took up a good chunk of counter space, with as many varieties as I could find. I didn’t want anyone to feel left out, so I’d just kept on printing until I had over three dozen.

“Very well,” Miss Helen said finally. “If it is good for company spirit.”

I clapped my hands in delight, glad the party wasn’t going to get shut down before it even started. So palpable was my relief, I didn’t even notice that Miss Helen hadn’t given the button back.

I didn’t have time to worry about it though, since just then Dr. Ludwig came in through the glass doors. He was normally the first one after me, as he always liked to get an early start down in the lab, and we’d developed a morning routine as fellow early birds.

“Dr. Ludwig!” I said, waving my hand, partly to get his attention and partly to show off the new gloves Dell had gotten me. The rubber ones had been so hard to type in, but these were nice and concealing as well as colorful. “Happy Pride Month! Do you want a pin?”

“Guten Morgen,” he greeted warmly. “Ah, buttons?” He picked up the closest one. “Pride buttons, I see.”

“Here you go!” I said, shoving a bi pin in his general direction since he’d shown interest.

But, to my surprise, he didn’t take it immediately. “Ehrm…” he said, staring down at the circle of metal.

“…Is this not the right one?” I withdrew my hand. Was I misremembering? “I’m so sorry, I guess I forgot…”

“No, no I did say that, didn’t I.” He ran a hand through his hair, sending its usual prim style haywire. “It is just…” He coughed lightly into his fist. “…Would you allow me to confide with you for a moment?”

Immediately, I pulled out the spare footstool I kept behind the counter, patting it as Dr. Ludwig came through the counter doors and took a seat. Our early morning chats were normally something to look forward to, shared over a donut or coffee he’d brought into the office, but today he just seemed run down. As he tucked his heels onto the stool’s crossbar, he rubbed his face.

“You know I am not as…up on all of this as some of your generation, ja?” he began.

“Millennials scare you,” I nodded, pulling my legs into my swivel chair.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” he huffed. “It is…well when we had our first conversations, and it was explained to me, it seemed to fit. At the time. Having to reconcile beginning a relationship with Mikhail when I still was not quite over Frida, nor really sure why things had fallen apart with us there.”

I remembered. “At the time? But not anymore?”

He sighed, ruffling his hair even more. “Now…now I am not so sure. Being with Mikhail is…quite different than any of the thirty years Frida and I spent together. I am starting to wonder if it was more just that I held extreme affection for her, and I was inexperienced enough that I was able to mistake it for attraction.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I thought I was so in love with her, and that’s why I never even looked at another woman. Töricht.”

“I don’t think that’s dumb,” I shook my head. “Everybody’s learning new things all the time. You can’t be expected to have everything sorted right after coming out.”

“Yes, I suppose,” he said. “But I still feel…guilty I think. Several of our coworkers are proudly attracted to both men and women, and I am aware that treating such a label as a ‘phase’ is a crude stereotype they have to deal with. I’d rather not have anyone think I was making a mockery of them.”

“It’s not a stereotype if that’s what’s really happening.” I patted him on the shoulder. “No one’s going to see it like that. If you think that’s where your journey is taking you, then there’s no shame coming out a second time.”

Dr. Ludwig responded to my words with a hopeful, if not entirely convinced, look behind his spectacles.

“Here,” I said, handing him both a bi and a gay pin. “You don’t have to wear either of them, this is just for fun after all! But if you change your mind…”

He looked at the two pins in his hand, then smiled tiredly up at me. “…Thank you mein friend. You are always helpful to talk to.”

“I try to be!”

After a few more assurances, the Doctor did eventually leave for the lab. Right on his coattails, Dell and Marcel came through the front door.

“Hey there, firebug,” Dell greeted. “What are you gettin’ up to here?”

I gave the quick rundown, pulling my shirt to highlight my own pin since I’d forgotten to show it off to my first two customers. “Pick any one you like!”

“Bear in mind I am saying this as a queer person,” Marcel said, sniffing down at the massive mound of multicolored circles, “this is all quite tacky.”

“Aw, learn how to have some fun, Spook,” Dell said, elbowing him in the side. To show him up, he claimed a pansexual pin for himself, and shot me a wink.

Marcel did nothing but sniff; but, when he thought no one was looking, I saw him discreetly sneak one of the pins off the counter as he left.

After that, the morning’s influx picked up too much to greet every person individually, but during lunch people saw fit to swing by and check things out again.

“Hi buddy!” Miss Pauling greeted. “I heard you were giving out Pride pins and wanted to see if- why are there so many lesbian ones?”

“Well!” I said, ecstatic to launch into an information dump. “The oldest of these is actually the ‘lipstick lesbian’ flag which, in absence of a more generic one, was used without the kiss mark in the corner. The one with the orange stripes wasn’t created until 2018, to be more inclusive all different lesbian groups.”

“Okay, but why does this one have an axe on it?”

“That’s the labrys!” I took the purple and black pin from her hand, pointing as I described, “the double bearded axe was used by the Amazons in Greek myth, and reappropriated in 1999 for its symbolism in female empowerment.”

“Wow,” she blinked down at the five different designs. “That’s really cool, except for the fact I have no idea how to use an axe.”

“I bet Tavish could teach you, he loves his Skullcutter.”

“…I’ll think about it. I’ll just take this one for now.” She picked up the orange five-stripe variation and pinned it to her purple shirt.

“Looks good!”

“Thanks!” she grinned. “And it was really nice of you to do this.”

“Honestly, the pleasure’s all mine. I just like seeing everyone happy.”

And everyone was! At least it sure seemed that way, even if it was kind of hard to tell with Mikhail. After lunch, he lumbered past my desk, picked out a gay pin, and put it on without so much as a smile. I took the muted grunt to be that of satisfaction

Tavish was next, dropping off half a roast beef sandwich since I’d forgotten to eat today, and instantly becoming my favorite person. While I was chowing down, he swiped two trans and two bi pins from my collection.

“Wadda you need two of each for?” I asked, quite a feat with my mouth full of roast beef and my respirator hanging halfway around my chin.

“Haven’t you heard?” Tavish asked with a raise of his eyebrow. “They just dropped a new identity: double bi. It’s twice as potent as regular bisexuality.”

I tilted my head, blinking perplexedly from behind my lenses.

“Ah, just a joke duck,” he assured. “The spares are for the husband.”

“Oh, right.” I swallowed down my mouthful. “I actually haven’t seen Jane at all today?”

“Ach, he came in earlier than you. Left at five this morning.”

“What? How?” I shook my head. “I’m the one who unlocks the doors.”

“Said he was tired of waiting for your ‘lazy, unpatriotic behind’ to start the day at seven. His words, not mine.” Tavish smiled apologetically. “He broke into one of the lab side doors.”

“…I bet Mikhail had something to say about that.”

He sighed. “That he did. They’ve been at it for hours. If there’s another office-wide prank war tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

Oh no. That’s how we lost our last two coffee makers, and our last seven office hamsters. Tavish assured me that it wouldn’t get out of hand, but by the time Mick showed up near the end of the day, my mood was somewhat dampened.

“Everything alroight, Campfire?” he asked me. “Ya look glum.”

“Just thinking about the impending damage to all those nice posters I put up in the breakroom,” I said sadly. “But! If you’ve come here to pick out a pin, that might cheer me up a bit.”

Mick chuckled in that cute little way of his, and already I was smiling. “Might have.”

We were close enough that I was ninety-five percent certain which one he wanted, but I’d learned my lesson with Dr. Ludwig and didn’t try to pick it out for him. Still, I let myself entertain a self-satisfied grin as he picked up the aroace flag.

“Hey uh,” I said. “If that’s the one you like, and uh…since I know you’re into archery…”

Carefully, I opened one of my drawers and extracted the special pin I’d made earlier, Mick watching me curiously all the while.

“Someone on the internet made this design,” I explained. “It’s for an aroace, arrow-ace!”

The flag was blacked out in several places to make a bow and arrow shape, and Mick grinned as he took it from my glove. “Clever.”

“Do you like it?” I asked hesitantly.

“Well, let’s see.” He pinned it to his vest. “Looks pretty good ta me.”

I couldn’t keep my stomach from doing a little flip at that. When Dell showed up, the last to leave the office for the day, he could tell I was smiling even through the mask.

“Everything go well, partner?” he chuckled. “You look pleased as punch.”

“Everything went great! Even Scout came by, although all he did was say ‘hey, free crap!’ and dumped a bunch of pins into his pocket.”

“I’m glad to hear the attempt at company spirit was a success,” a voice from behind Dell said, making us both jump. Miss Helen emerged from the shadows, her purple jacket an entire mass of pride pins, nearly one of every kind. When had she gotten all those? Had she been paying Marcel to sneak them out while I wasn’t looking? “A happy work environment is a productive work environment, as I always say. Well done, secretary.”

“Can’t remember you ever saying that, ma’am,” Dell admitted blandly.

“…Why do you have so many?” I asked.

“These are…fun…are they not?” she sniffed. “I am having…fun.”

Huh. Maybe this is just what she looked like when she was having a good time. I shrugged. “Glad you enjoyed yourself Miss Helen! Does that mean it’s okay to do it again next year?”

“…You have my permission.”

With that, she strutted out, and Dell shot me a grin. I scooped the remaining pins into my bag and closed up the front office, chatting with him on the way to the parking lot about how we could mix things up next year.