#want to change some things but its 4am and i have to get up early </3

[masterwords]

two tickets to paradise (part one)

Summary: Derek takes Hotch on a much-needed vacation. (Post-Route 66)

Warnings: Lots of food and alcohol...

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Alright, yes, I'm doing another long fic. This one is a little different though...here we have part one, setting the stage. After this I'll create a masterlist for this thing, and it's basically going to be a series of one-shots, whatever these two idiots in love get up to on their vacation. Not necessarily a linear story, just a whole bunch of cute soft shenanigans.

Read on AO3: two tickets to paradise

** CHAPTER LIST **

**

3:14am and he was pacing the kitchen like it was his job. His internal clock was all mixed up. He hadn't known insomnia this bad since law school.

It started as the pain waking him, stomach cramps, back aches, all sorts of post-op fun, now it was just routine. Quarter after 3 and his body decided it was time to be awake, pain or no. Most nights were no but he treated them the same. Heating pad, cup of tea, a book or some old black and white middle of the night movie on silent. He could be asleep by 4 without fail.

But not tonight. As he paced the kitchen waiting for his heating pad to warm in the microwave and his tea to steep, he found a brochure. Just the corner, poking out from behind the calendar on the fridge. Hidden in plain sight. Bright yellows and pinks offset by eye popping turquoise, a smattering of photos, bold letters exclaiming VISIT MEXICO! His veins pumped cold, which was funny really, if he really stopped to consider it. Maybe it was the idea that Derek was up to something, or maybe it was the thought of sunburns and sand in every crack and crevice for the rest of the century...he wasn't sure why it struck him with such ferocity, but he stared at it long after the microwave beeped and beeped to let him know it was finished.

As soon as that heating pad was settled against the phantom ache in his stomach though, everything else vanished and as predicted, he was asleep on the couch by 4am.

He hadn't slept a full night in his bed in nearly two months.

That icy feeling of dread returned when he stood in Cruz's office the following morning, bright and early staring at his employee file splayed with its guts bleeding out on the desk. His file lying open there like he had weeks ago on cold metal. There was some connection here that he wasn't making, but it would be clear soon enough.

“You wanted to see me?” Hotch asked, turning to watch Cruz enter the room with some haste. Like he hadn't intended for Hotch to beat him there, although the file seemed staged enough that it might all have been a game. He could see it, that split second when Cruz glanced at his desk and then at Hotch, as if to wonder whether Hotch had been in there long enough to take a peek at the bright pink post-it note stuck to the top page. Whether curiosity had gotten the better of him. But then, he didn't really seem worried about that in the least and Hotch sort of wished he'd leaned over and taken a peek.

“Please, have a seat.” He said it in a sort of funny high-pitched voice, exasperated almost at the idea of Hotch standing. Enough to give Hotch pause, suddenly feeling the weight of the scrutiny he was under. Just back from medical leave, one case under his belt (and a birthday to boot) but he's been dragging. His body just hasn't bounced back like it used to. In fact, it really wasn't bouncing much at all. Dragging was a better word for it.

Cruz was afraid. He recognized it now, that was worry in his eyes. He'd seen it around, people who heard the story. I heard he passed out in the conference room, right in front of everyone. They whispered after he walked by and at one time in his life he may have found it to be humiliating, but it was a nice change of pace. He no longer had to hear Haley's name hissed when he entered a room.

Cruz motioned to the chair and Hotch stalled a moment longer, quirking an eyebrow before accepting the offer of a chair. Sit before you pass out again, that's what Cruz was thinking, he could see it written on the other man's face. He'd never forced Hotch to sit before the incident, they would just stand and talk beside his desk. As he lowered himself into the seat, one hand flew to his tie to keep it in place, just a formality, maybe a nervous tick, and his pinky finger flicked out once and then twice to make sure it was all smooth. Cruz watched, completely fascinated.

“You look tired, have you been sleeping?”

That's when it happened. The image of the brightly colored travel brochure flashed before his eyes, a distant memory of an insomniac's double life. He couldn't stifle the automatic sigh that followed.

“Yes,” he lied coolly, sitting tall in his chair to give the air of not being as tired as he was. Cruz, maybe the first person in the history of the BAU, didn't even pretend to fall for it.

“You've been back for two weeks,” Cruz began, not missing a beat. “I think it goes without saying that you gave us all a pretty good scare, and I'm just not convinced that your time off was enough.”

“I took the mandatory six weeks.” Strike one. Cruz clearly didn't care about that.

“So you did. You're very careful Agent Hotchner, and maybe Erin Strauss would have put her pen to the paperwork and insisted you were right, that everything was good. Waived a fitness for duty exam, even. But I'd like to be open with you...we are going to be working closely together, you and I. I'd like to establish something right now...I'm not fooled by your work ethic. That isn't to say I'm not impressed by you, but I can see through you. So let me level with you. I can tell that you probably needed twice that amount of time to recover from your ordeal, and honestly, we both know you should probably not be here at all after everything that has happened over the course of your decorated and impressive career.”

“I'm not sure that's...” he started around the lump that had formed in his throat, but Cruz raised a hand to hold him off. His gentle features lulled Hotch into a sense that this wasn't a bullet train to hell, but his gut was already smoldering. That was new, this feeling of flames in his belly. He was keeping Tums in his pocket and Alka Seltzer in his desk drawer, but he didn't reach for minty relief.

“Aaron...may I call you Aaron?” he paused, a real pause, like he was actually waiting for Hotch to consent. Not just a formality, a genuine request. So, with some hesitation Hotch nodded his approval, hoping it might at least garner him some favor. “You've had an eventful couple of months. More has happened to you in a couple of months than has happened to me in years and yet you continue to show up here and perform at a high level. I can't help but think that your collapse was only a down payment on the price you'll pay for all you do. It catches up to us all, Aaron.”

Hotch's frown deepened and Cruz smiled at that small victory. He'd really just intended to get right to the point, but he had to admit that making Hotch squirm a little had its perks. “Yes, I know much of this is my own assumption, profiling maybe? I'm a newbie, a rube, I haven't finished the profiling courses they've asked me to complete in order to take this job...it was kind of a last-minute deal, you know? In any case, I may not be a trained profiler yet, but I do think I've hit the nail on the head.”

“Forgive my asking, but has my performance not been up to standard?”

Cruz let out a barking laugh and Hotch felt his heart drop into his belly. He did his best not to let the shadow cross his features.

“Your performance sets the standard, Aaron but I think that's part of the problem. I know there isn't any way I can convince you to take an additional six weeks of medical leave, I may be new but I wasn't born yesterday. Your reputation as a...well as a stubborn ass...precedes you. I would, however, consider it a victory if you would take a two week vacation.”

The brochure. VISIT MEXICO. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Sir, I was just off for six weeks...”

“This may come as a shock to you, but medical leave is not considered a vacation to most people. Two weeks somewhere far away from here. Get on a plane, leave your phone and your laptop in your office.”

“That sounds like an order.” Hotch's lips twitched a little, a half smirk half frown. He wasn't sure what to think about Cruz. He was not accustomed to anyone taking a personal interest in his well-being. It was oddly unsettling.

“I'd hesitate to call it an order, but it certainly is not open for negotiation. I will personally see to it that your team is well taken care of in your absence.”

(x)

Things were not better in his office. He was irritated, maybe, but nervous more than that. He'd just put his team through hell, and now he had to tell them that he was going away again. How were they supposed to trust him anymore?

And when Derek appeared in his doorway, the pretend look of confusion on his face gave him away. He could feel that familiar itchy feeling that often preceded anger deep in his belly, the smoldering from earlier had fully given way to something new. It was hot and sharp and made him want to claw at it with his fingernails.

“You've been speaking with Cruz about me.” It was not a question. He didn't have to wonder, he knew. VISIT MEXICO, his inner voice screamed.

“Hey, slow your roll baby,” Derek said, shutting the door and the blinds. This was going to get ugly, he could feel it and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been anticipating it. “He approached me. Honest.” Derek took a seat across from Hotch and tried to look a helluva lot more casual than he felt.

“He knows about you and I.” More an accusation than an observation and it took everything in Derek's power to look past the tone to the vulnerability hiding behind it like a rabbit in the brush.

“Hotch, the whole damn Bureau knows about us, they'd have to be fucking idiots if they didn't at this point. Come on now. No one cares. You're not supposed to be getting yourself all worked up...the doctors said...”

“I'm not worked up. I'm simply trying to understand why I was called into the Section Chief's office this morning...”

“Alright, hey, look. I admit we could have done a better job, blindsiding you was wrong, but it's coming from a place of caring, man. He's worried about you. The whole team is. You almost died right in front of everyone.” He paused dramatically, maybe for effect or just to let it sink in, but whatever it was Hotch hated it. He was sucking air like a fish out of water and trying not to suffocate. “Cruz wants to keep you around. He relies on you, and he wants you in good shape.”

“I am.” His voice betrayed him. He could hold it together under duress better than most, but with Derek staring him down the way he was, he was on the verge of a panic attack right there in his office. He was too damn tired for this.

“So, prove it. Don't make me go on vacation alone...”

“Mexico?” Hotch asked in a sort of meek, sarcastic voice and Derek smiled wide, humming a little Eddie Money for effect. As if it would help lighten the mood. I've got...two tickets to paradise...pack your bags, we'll leave tonight...Hotch could hear the lyrics in his head. He'd always hated that song.

“Yeah. Mexico. You'll come back tanned and well-rested.” Another pause, this time long enough to round the desk and sit there, right in front of Hotch, on top of his papers, still humming the damn song. Leaning forward, he cupped Hotch's jaw with one hand and smirked. “After two weeks of me being on your back, he'll be off of it.”

“Get out.”

“Oh come on, I've been waiting all morning to say that...”

“Out, Derek.”

“You know, normal people get excited when their boyfriends book them two weeks in paradise...”

“You know I don't like the beach.” Not exactly the truth, but right now he hated just about everything. Except Derek, he really loved Derek and couldn't help wondering why someone he loved would torment him so ruthlessly. Exploiting his weaknesses for personal gain. And okay, he knew that really wasn't what Derek was doing but in the moment logic was taking a backseat to some raw and bitter feeling of betrayal.

“Yeah, but you don't hate seeing me at the beach, do you?”

Hotch pursed his lips and glared, having finally reached his limit of innuendo at work. “Don't you have something to do?”

Derek grinned, reaching for the door handle. “I don't think you want me to answer that...”

(x)

The flight to Chicago allowed Hotch only enough time to wonder if they were making a mistake. Of course Jack and Derek were thick as thieves. First they just shared their snacks, Jack's cheezits and Derek's trail mix became like a shared currency when it came to in flight entertainment. Much to Hotch's chagrin, they had also combined their two sodas into some sort of Frankenstein horror mix of Coke and Sprite because Jack wondered if it might taste good and Derek of course had to enlighten him to the wonders of The Graveyard.

“You put every single flavor on the soda fountain in your cup, one after the other, anything the soda machine has...your dad never taught you about this?” Jack shook his head and Derek turned to Hotch, shot him a dirty look and went back to the explanation of other examples of the finer parts of childhood that the kid was being deprived of. “When grandma takes you to the pizza parlor for dinner tonight, you hook yourself up and tell me what you think.” Hotch could only cringe at the thought.

A delayed flight for engine malfunction (Hotch was careful not to tell Derek it might be a sign that they shouldn't go) meant an extra night in Chicago and dinner at the pizza parlor with the whole family. Everyone comes out of the woodwork when Derek is home. Sometimes the whole neighborhood. The place was packed, the food was endless, the noise was deafening.

Hotch stuck to a Sprite with his meal, barely finishing half of it. He was eating more Tums than pizza anyway, playing his conversation with Cruz over and over in his head. It wasn't improving his mood or his upset stomach. Derek had gone with beer, though he did try a sip of Jack's graveyard and quietly admit that it was gross to Hotch once the kid had wandered off triumphantly. "Shoulda told him you never put in the grape...fuck. Nasty."

Derek's beer was light, airy and sour, not Hotch's preference but he was sneaking a few sips here and there to try and indulge in whatever vacation spirit he could muster. Vacation wasn't his thing. His heart wasn't in it. He was stuck on how it all played out, the image of him sitting lame as a duck in Cruz's office while the two of them played their elaborate trick. In any case, he knew it wasn't really a trick and he knew he needed to get over it. Fran, sensing a heavy conversation looming over their heads, ushered Jack toward the game room with a bucket of gold coins and the promise that there was more where that came from if he would win her a prize.

He got her a stuffed panda bear holding a silky red heart. She carried it around with her everywhere she went the rest of the evening.

To her surprise, the heavy conversation she'd anticipated wasn't between Derek and Hotch, but between she and Derek on their walk back. He slowed his pace and waited for her to catch up to him, and then ushered her to the back of the procession. She was still clutching her panda bear. Jack rode on Hotch's shoulders far ahead of them and they spoke in hushed tones, afraid to let anyone hear.

A conspiracy hatched over the course of three city blocks. Fran was all smiles, light on her feet, chastising Derek for telling her what he had planned as if she'd want to keep it to herself. “Don't tell everyone you know, moms...”

“Give me a number.”

“What? Come on, just keep it quiet...it's only two weeks.”

“A number, Derek. Ten? Fifteen?”

“Five. You can tell five people.”

She frowned, and in that moment she looked exactly like her son. “But what if those five people tell another five? Is everyone held to five?”

“Mom...what if...”

“Do not speak those words into the world. There is no if. So only five huh?”

In the morning, when it was time to say goodbye, Jack did so happily with a smile full of pancakes and syrup on his chin. He was about to spend two weeks being spoiled by Derek's family, he couldn't be happier. Derek ate his pancakes with peanut butter slathered on top, extra protein so he wouldn't get too snacky at the airport and be tempted to spend a ton of money on convenience food. Hotch stuck to coffee and an apple. No purpose other than his complete lack of appetite. He hadn't had much of one in months now. No matter how she tried to entice him, he politely declined the offer of a stack of pancakes.

“You'll have some when you come back,” she said with an unnerving smile, rubbing his arm. Like she knew something he didn't. Everyone was conspiring against him.

Truth be told, Fran adored him, but somehow she also understood some of his quirks. He was odd but sweet. He never had been much of an eater, at least not at meal time. But he was a snacker, she'd find him in the kitchen searching out a handful of blueberries or throwing a slice of bread into the toaster at all hours. Just little nibbles, nothing that would fill a man his size up. She tried not to worry. “I'll make them special for you. With bananas. You'll feel better when you come back.”

He wanted to tell her he felt fine now but the look on her face...she wasn't going to buy it. She hadn't seen him since he collapsed and glad as she was to put eyes on him right now, in the flesh, in her home...seeing him upright when all she'd seen before were photos Derek took of him sleeping (He's sleeping so much, is he alright? Are you sure Derek?), she still thought he looked off. Pale and drawn. Dark circles almost black in the morning light. Truthfully, she'd never known him not to have them, they were like old friends but they were darker now. Deeper.

He just looked so weary. Derek was right, he did need this time off.

(x)

Two days at a resort in Cancun was about the opposite of anything Hotch would have planned, but Derek had ideas and when Derek had ideas...you went along with them. He rarely disappointed. It being the off-season, they more or less had the resort to themselves anyway. It was pleasantly quiet, just some families rambling around, kids splashing in the pool and building sand castles. This is about the only time of year they could come here safely Hotch assumed, the only time the beach wasn't flooded with party kids half naked and doing things he knew would be on Jack's mind in the not too distant future. The thought sent a shiver up his spine.

“This isn't...” he started, walking to the desk with Derek. “The brochure in the kitchen, that wasn't for Cancun.”

Derek just smiled. “Your only job on this whole trip is just to go with the flow...we're vibing it baby. So...to the room first?” Derek asked, attaching a plastic bracelet onto Hotch's wrist with a grin. Rolex on one hand, neon plastic on the other. “All-inclusive, the resort is your oyster. Want a drink or a snack? Flash that fancy jewelry.”

Hotch has spent more time in hospitals than resorts.

The little plastic bracelet he now wore announced his status at the resort, a garish sunshine yellow that reminded him of those pesky plastic bracelets they always slapped on his wrist in the hospital. Here he's pre-paid for every goody he might want to consume, there he's a fall risk. He'd take this version, he figured. It didn't come with needles and beeping machines.

This was his first small step toward enjoying himself.

It was the bed that called to him first and Derek was more than willing to indulge him. It took Derek only seconds to be fully naked and ready for a nap in the chilly air-conditioned room. Travel was exhausting. Sitting in an airplane, soaring over invisible timelines, rushing through airports, listening to people cough all around him...he was ready to sleep it off too. “An hour to sleep and then we hit the beach?”

“Sure,” was Hotch's immediate reply. But when he didn't even move, not even a twitch, at the sound of Derek's alarm...Derek made a very important decision. One that might dictate the entire mood of their trip, if he was careful. This was vacation, and it didn't have to just be what he wanted. Yeah, he wanted to spend the day at the beach with Hotch, but Hotch needed sleep.

Vibing it applied to him too.

So, he got himself dressed, scribbled a quick note down on the pad of paper on Hotch's nightstand, and left. He was ready to hit the beach, get some booze in him, maybe meet some people who knew where to go to have the most fun. With a flash of his bracelet, he walked out to the beach with a little clear plastic cup of margarita in his hand. And when a fly landed right in the neon green beverage? He wished it well and flicked it on its way, hoping that it got drunk enough to have as good a time as he planned to. Maybe it would find some little fly nightclub somewhere and dance the night away.

Sucked first into a game of volleyball, and then the pool with the swim up bar, he was set for the afternoon. Every time he decided to change activities, he popped up to the room and found that Hotch had barely moved. He would adjust the temperature, refill the glass of water he'd left on the nightstand, amend his note with where he planned to be next if he had to be located and be on his way.

Derek didn't need much to have a good time, and Cancun was providing more than enough.

Hotch's one hour nap lasted well into the evening, long past all of the hotel buffets closed up for the evening. Derek had been eating off and on all day, little snacks to balance out tiny cup after tiny cup of neon booze. His favorite had been the pink drink, it tasted like strawberries and coconuts, but the blue one left his lips a funny color and he sort of liked that too. He was waiting for Hotch to have a full meal, that was the one thing he wanted. Even if their first meal on vacation was breakfast, he'd wait it out.

Room service sounded good to both of them, eating out on their veranda listening to the almost black ocean waves crash against the pale moonlit sand.

“I'm sorry I slept so long,” Hotch whispered in his gravely sleep voice, dragging a fry through a glob of ketchup. Burgers and fries, not exactly what Derek had been anticipating but he was letting Hotch lead for a while. “You could have woken me.”

“That's the longest I've seen you sleep in years, like hell I'm waking you up outta that. You barely even moved. I mean, you might have been in a coma I don't know.”

Hotch smiled, and Derek could see already that it looked lighter. A little flushed and sweet. It was a good start.

“Are you gonna be up all night now?”

“Truthfully,” Hotch started with a yawn, and Derek could already see the writing on the wall. Hotch hadn't slept in weeks, not really. His body was willing to catch up all at once now. So be it. “I could go back to bed...”

“Sounds good to me.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #mortch #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[nebowskii]

Its 4AM, i can't sleep and i want to ramble about the hauted train station chapter i barely developed

CW: sensible themes?? Child abuse, gore-ish stuff

Its basically located in a district that was build in a very cursed area of the land, awful things and emotions have taken place there and still does, murders, suicides and disappearences are not uncommon so naturally, onryos are not uncommon either

havent decided it's full history on these places but there are two main cases for the train station specifically

The coin locker case

Where a mass of raw meat came from inside a coin locker and killed multiple demons by taking their heads only, after that, that single coin locker was missing from the place but some in the neighborhood have mentioned seeing a single locker in random tight corners between building

The other is the cursed boy (temp name lol)

Where a young boy who was accompanied with his mother in the station, got hurt and almost kidnapped by an onryo, luckly his mother was there and protected him as best as she could before an exorcist came to take care of things. It was found out that the reason behind the sudden attack was the boy its self, he had a soul that naturally atracted these type of spirits, many exorcists tried to get him to work for them from an early age as a young apprentice but they never got a response

WITH THOSE SAID, the characters from these cases are them!

(Left) Klaus being the cursed boy, part of his early childhood was bothered by exorcists trying to convince his mother (who was badly injured that night) of letting him be their young apprentice and "bait" without even thinking about the trauma that she and him went through

And (Right) Locky, being the mass of meat who killed multiple by devouring their heads. he's an onryo and is result of his mother leaving him to die and rot inside the coin locker while he was still a baby

(note. NAH LOCKY DID NOT ATTACK KLAUS' MOTHER, THAT WAS ANOTHER ONRYO +locky's case was around mid? 90s while Klaus' was on early 2000s)

This chapter would be about them getting over their past in a way..? Since they both blame themselves for what happened

Meanwhile having them stuck in that underground station, and it's not like they can just walk on the tracks cause they'll just end up in the same place like a loop

These are just a few of some old visual concepts

Honestly there is more to this and... Isnt at the same time cause I was suppose to be working on other areas of the story so expect stories to change a lot again LOL

But hey brrrr it's fun even tho my writting is OERGH anyway im tired now

#ablaze #doodles

[pixelzombie]

Today I was far less productive than I should've been... Everything has gone by in such a blur. Of course I made some key mistakes that I severely regret. I keep making it, and there is no excuse. I just wish I had more self-control. I didn't fully finish packing, I didn't meet any of my goals. I went to work from 8am to 1pm, I did truck there, I got out and came home to finish the paperwork I had, I ate a lot, cuddled with my cat, got high, watched Court Cam... OH! I visited my siblings for a while, and I regret leaving as early as I did. If I don't end up seeing them before I leave it will be very hurtful for me. I also went to the store and picked up all the school supplies I thought I would need, so those are in the back of the car with the cleaning supplies and a couple of t-shirts I thought were cute. What I really wanted to get done was this kitchen and the rest of my room, and then maybe even the living room and the bedroom upstairs. Really, the only thing I didn't have much productivity in was cleanliness. But, considering I leave for work at 11am tomorrow, I have time tonight before bed. I want to get blazed, take a shower, clean everything or at least clean until I just can't stand it. Or until the clock hits 4am, at the latest. It will likely take me less than 20 minutes out of my whole day to have this kitchen and my bedroom immaculate but I feel all these invisible restraints. I feel immobilized when I have the sensation of being watched, and that causes a lot of my "procrastination" but so does authentic procrastination. At the moment, there's the additional factor of being scared of the night-time. That makes me hesitant to move much as well. So, basically, I'm a bit spooked at the moment and I'm using any and everything as an excuse to get out of moving from where I sit, glued to my laptop. There are ghastly sounds happening all around me, and I just feel stuck. But it's preposterous and counter-productive to let shit like that get in the way, I know. The truth is that the sooner I do it, the more pleased I can be, HEY, the more sleep I can get! How much would it really change whether or not I am being watched? And wouldn't I just love to get these offensive smells away from me? What's the big whoop? If I always make such a big deal out of cleaning, it will never get easier. The stress I feel when things are messy should be answered with the desire to fix that, not just sit there in it and be miserable. It's a really good example of how I can manage to be so accepting of the horrible bullshit around me while I contribute to its continuation. It's okay. Nothing will change, it isn't scary, it isn't different. Am I scared of some fucking dishes in a sink? Are they really worse than the mold I'll have to caress if I don't just get up and do them?

[xnchxntmxnt]

accidentally waking them up...

Fandom: Sk8 The Infinity Characters: s. kaoru (cherry blossom), h. langa, k. reki Warnings: light cursing? lots of fluff. you and langa have a cat Notes: This is for my not-morning people you're welcome gn!reader//no pronouns used

join my taglist

Kaoru Sakurayashiki

You woke up for no reason in the middle of the night, a little irritated that it was 4am and you seemed like you were wide awake

So hoping to relax a little, you went out to get a glass of water

You didn’t want to wake kaoru so decided against just staying out and trying to go back to sleep

However

He woke up anyway because he’s a very light sleeper

You weren’t even out of the room yet when you heard him stirring and turned back around

“(Y/N), what are you doing--come back to bed”

You turn around and can (barely) see he’s pouting

Its kinda cute

Water could wait, honestly

You lay back down under the blankets and he wraps his arms around you

You’re basically stuck

Have you ever heard the word clingy? Tired kaoru invented clingy

“Why are you awake?” he asks and despite having your face buried in his neck, you can just tell how much hs pouting

Have I mentioned he’s adorable

He mumbles something about carla turning on his lullaby (which you as her to because she didn’t hear him) and everything is good

He’s still grumpy the next morning because he didn’t want to be awake

But also slightly worried like a good boyfriend

Give him a kiss and tell him it’s alright you just woke up for no reason

He’ll be fine

Just make sure he gets a kiss because he’s grumpy and clingy in the morning, too

Langa Hasegawa

Cats are bastards

Theyre adorable but theyre bastards

And you and langa’s cat decided to step all over your face at ungodly hours of the night and woke you up

And after some grumbling at the cat with colorful language langa woke up

Unfortunately

He doesn’t exactly go to sleep easily

And when hes up hes up

And usually requires food or water or something to back to sleep

Another pouty one when hes tired

So, because youre mad at the cat and now he’s not going back to sleep anytime soon, you decide to get up and go make something to eat

You two probably just eat a ton of hot pockets at like 3am its just a very langa thing to do

But while youre waiting for you hot pockets to cook, youre dancing around the kitchen to silent music, swaying back and forth in each other’s arms

Maybe he’s humming something in your ear, you’re not quite sure

But its peaceful

Until you forget about the microwave and it goes off loud, making you both jump and start laughing at yourselves

Reki Kyan

Just imagine bc this is my alarm clock okay

Its just like. Regular alarm clock. That you can set to go off to a different time if you want to wake up later. But you cant set several different alarms like you can on a phone

So

You kinda forgot to change the alarm from going off at 6 to some time in the afternoon so you didnt have to wake up at way-too-early hours on a weekend

So when you have to wake up at 6 on a saturday for no reason other than forgetfulness youre not exactly happy

You and Reki are like

Between asleep and awake? Because you wake up to turn the alarm off but neither of you wanna get up yet

But you cant fall back asleep

So you just lay there

All curled up with him

I think he’d bounce back and forth between asleep and awake but hes never deep asleep

But when he is he has like a death grip around your waist and his face is buried in the back of your neck and you can hear him snoring quietly

And when he’s awake hes running his thumb over your stomach under your shirt because cold hands + warm tummy = warm hands

And once in a while he mumbles a little sleepy “i love you��

Neither of you have any idea what time it is after that, its just quiet and content

taglist: @astroqphillic

#//ᴏʀɪɢɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ #//ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 the infinity x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki #kaoru sakurayashiki x male reader #kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki x gn reader #cherry blossom x gn reader #cherry blossom sk8 #cherry blossom x reader #cherry blossom x male reader #langa hasegawa #langa hasegawa x reader #langa hasegawa x gn reader #langa hasegawa x male reader #reki kyan #reki kyan x reader #reki kyan x gn reader #reki kyan x male reader

[moderatelydelusional]

things ive learnt abt mgg from pete holmes’ podcast

- he casually calls people ‘baby’ and ‘man’ and ‘bro/brother’ all the time and i love that

- he’s half mormon and went to mormon services as a kid

- ‘i like letting people do whatever they want to do as long as its not killing anybody’

- he’s been haunted by demons

- he doesn’t identify as an actor

- he lives with a guy named john

- his car blew up in 2007

- he buys land and has investments

- his parents divorced when he was 5

- he believes time is layered and not linear

- he doesn’t like entitled people (same)

- he loves japan and goes every year

- he thought he was jewish and was guttered when he found out he wasn’t

- he believes in a higher power and we’re all running on some kind of power and consciousness

- ‘shes better than the girl of my dreams, she’s real’ is one of his favourite movie lines

- he stays up until 4am and then sleeps until 11am. his routine consists of getting up, making coffee, creating at least two things: usually drawings. then he’ll have a bath and create some more and think a bunch. he likes to go for a drive in the afternoon and see ‘a friend, or a family member, or a babe, just some social interaction’

- he describes his artistic style, and his direction to anyone creating something for him, as using his non-dominant hand

- hes super quick at making acronyms. he made acronyms before i even caught what they were talking about

- the man is off the fkn walls. he’ll be answering a serious question and interrupt himself to ask to see pete’s bellybutton. off the wall batshit looney and i love it

- he never studied acting

- he loves luke perry, whom he affectionately calls LP

- he jokingly told shemar moore the trick to acting was to ‘talk slow and squint’

- he flirts with pete’s podcast assistant so much, like sir just ask him out already. pete said ‘aristotle will give you top shelf love’ and mgg said ‘yeah he will’

- he tries to smell nice all the time

- he’s obsessed with fresh breath

- something about kirkland is hilarious (idk what that is im not american)

- hes very self-love / love everyone vibe, kind of on the hippie side which is so sweet i love it

- he believes in everything

- hes terrified of monsters

- he loves the blair witch project

- he finds success in making one person smile, even if thats his mum

- hes very hard to offend

- hes thankful for his bullies bc it taught him early on to give no credence to what people think

- ‘have you ever shit your pants?’ ‘when have i not shit my pants?’

- ‘bragodacious’

- ‘ive never shit my pants’

- ‘if you didnt lie so much you wouldnt have to say ‘swear to god’’ pete to mgg

- he doesnt like saying anything that’s potentially offensive to other people, rude to other people, or basically can hurt someones feelings in any way

- HE WANTS TO FK ARISTOTLE SO MUCH OML

- hes very quick to self censor. he starts to say ‘fuck’ bur changes it to ‘frick’ he also doesn’t add to any conversation about drugs or sex or alcohol

- he says ‘oh my gosh’ a lot and idk I love that?

- is a really great listener and says ‘thats so beautiful’ when being told a story and its so fkn precious?

- he thinks no one likes him and will deflect any objection to that statement 

- he’s not good at timelines. he knows he had dinner with you somewhere in the last five years but he doesn’t know when 

- he can tell when he’s seeing a ghost as opposed to a living person. it has a lot to do with the context he’s seeing that ghost and mostly the vacant expression on their face. 

- he sees more ghosts now as an adult than he did when it started at age 10 

LISTEN TO THE PODCAST HERE <3

#matty g #loren squeaks #its such a chaotic podcast omg #they dont stay on one train of thought for more than 5 seconds

[wh6res]

127 SQUAD AND ROMANTIC BF TINGS

tw a lil bit of suggestive on jae's but nothing explicit

✰ — TAEIL would sing lullabies over the phone or video call. you and him would just be doing your own thing, not talking but enjoying being each other's presence. he'll probably pull out his guitar and start singing random songs until he eventually notices you fell asleep on him. will not end the call and when you wake up in the morning, his snores and his cute sleeping face is the first thing you see. "love? you still there? ... taeil?" then laugh out loud when you hear his snores instead. "okay yeah lets sleep more" the call will only end probably because his phone died. he kinda strikes me as a guy who's phone is always < 50% battery lmao

✰ — JOHNNY is your everything. literally. as long as he has the power of youtube, google, and instruction manuals on his side, he can fix anything and everything for you. we've all seen him do crafty things on jcc lmao so it'll probably apply to relationships as well. will 100% say you now owe him cuddles for fixing something for you. you kinda dont like the fact that he's doing all these things for you so you try doing them on your own without him knowing only to fail big time. "what did we learn today?" "never touch the pipes under the sink" "and?" "and always ask johnny for help" "nuh-uh thats not how i said it" you sigh exasperatedly "always let my smokin hot amazing handsome boyfriend johnny suh get the job done"

✰ — TAEYONG doesn't care whether you take the time shopping or not. in fact, he loves seeing you all excited and giddy for pampering yourself as you should. totally the type to hold the paper bags even if you complain and say you can manage on your own. is a complete angel and will wait patiently outside changing rooms and will give you genuine insight he has of the clothes you picked. "that looks nice. you should get that. the length is just right and the sleeves help accentuate your waist" "really yongie?" "yes love. i mean you look pretty in everything anyway" miss ma'am my heart just fucking melted ?¿?

✰ — YUTA doesn't look like it but will exert real effort into things. would be the type to have a note or a google doc about your favorite orders from restaurants because he just loves how your eyes light up appreciatively and you look so smitten by him. its like a cheat sheet. eventually he memorizes the list with how much time he spends with you and he wont even need it. the type to always bring you food before meeting you (if its just hanging out inside the house). "no way! i was just craving for these!" he smiles before kissing your forehead, volunteering to put the food out its container for you. "i figured. you'd been working since this afternoon. lets eat first then you can tell me about what you've been working on so i can help you, okay?"

✰ — DOYOUNG loves cooking for you. i highkey feel like its his love language? like cooking for you and seeing your eyes light up as it darts back to him after you take your first bite from whatever he cooked just gives him so much happiness. its disgustingly sappy and he doesn't like talking about it. now he understood fully what it meant to see your loved ones eating and being full yourself or some shit. idk how the actual quote goes okay dont come 4 me but u probably get it. anyway the type to always pack you lunch and will get hella mad if you skip meals. "what do you mean you havent eaten yet?" "yeah but i will after i--" "you mean you're going to eat Now?" "what? no maybe later--" "thats it im coming over"

✰ — JAEHYUN would be the type to make you playlists. its really random sometimes he'll send them to you in the early morning for the heck of it bc he cant sleep. most of the time its him being horny lmao the frat boy in him awakening and sending you a playlist called imma blow your back out or something extremely cringey and thirsty pls dont block his sorry ass maybe he'd spell out the words using song titles too! idk jae just rlly strikes me as a guy who's love language is music. "hey babe did you check the playlist i sent you?" "wtf its 4am???" "oh so you havent listened to it yet?" "fuck off" but at the end of the day he'll come over and will use the playlist to,,, you know,,, do the sexy thing ;)

✰ — JUNGWOO always makes sure you walk on the inside of the road. you know when you're walking in the street and he softly nudges your waist? yes. will probably even scold you playfully because with how long its been since you both are together, "babe you always walk on the inside of the road how many times do i have to tell you?" is also the type to remind you to wear your seatbelt immediately after hopping onto his car. would ask you Again while in the middle of the car ride because he forgot that he already asked you earlier. please don't mind him he's just looking out for you bb. "seatbelt?" "yes, babe. already done" "are you sure? i dont think i heard it click--" "babe eyes on the road please" "oh right sorry"

✰ — MARK sends you tiktoks, vines, or memes. this is his love language fite me im calling it. he just wants to see you laugh too okay? thats why he does it. i mean it made him laugh, so maybe it will you laugh too. also because he hopes to make inside jokes with u cuz he believes thats how people really get close and stuff. would definitely love it if you do the same thing with him. you'd be chilling in the sofa while khalid plays on the bluetooth speaker and he'll suddenly go "babe babe babe check this out!" then you both proceed to laugh at a vine for the next thirty minutes <3 #living.the.yn.life

✰ — HAECHAN will do your skincare for you when you're drunk or super tired that you just passed out cold on the bed. would probably come into the room to see you snoring and tutting bc now he has to do it for you again but meh deep down he loves it because he enjoys admiring your sleeping face. its sorta like a healing thing for him? yeah it just washes away all the stress he's feeling and bb is just excited about the idea that this becomes "your thing" with him if u get what im saying? altho the next day he'll probably use it as a leverage to get out of chores :) "no way im not folding our clothes" "and why is that?" "i took your make up off yesterday u know how hard that is? im still tired" "but its literally the next day--" "awww thank you for doing my chores, baby! u the best!" ._.

#nct #nct 127 #jaehyun #taeyong #taeil #johnny #yuta #jungwoo #haechan #mark #doyoung #nct 127 headcanons #nct 127 hcs #nct headcanons #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x y/n #nct 127 x you

[lillian-nator]

Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)

V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.

- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"

- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that

- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. -  (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers

- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time

- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story  - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church. 

AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a  circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.

#wallflower au #wilbursoot #tommyinnit #karl jacobs #quackity #sapnap #and Big Q #georgenotfound #gogy #punz #dream #dreamwastaken #tubbo #long post

[bibbawrites]

Beach Baby - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 4 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE , THE PREQUEL (PART 2) HERE AND PART 3 HERE 

Request: none

Word Count: 3907 words 😳

Summary: Part 4 of Single Dad!Charlie, Margaux and Charlie reunite with Owen in Hawaii after months apart due to lockdown, just in time for Margaux’s fourth birthday 

Warnings: technically underage drinking, i guess technically i have to warn that this is implied mutual crushing between owen and charlie, if you dont feel comfortable with romantic chowen do not read 

A/N: i couldn’t get this out of my head so i had to write it, and boy did i write it this is the longest non-chaptered fic ive ever written and honestly i could have made it longer but i didnt want it to drag on any more that it already did this is literally more than double the length of my normal fics, i got very carried away

also just a note that i’m not trying to be rude about the fans who met the boys at the airport and i’m sure in real life the boys were happy to stop and chat, but from a parents perspective charlie’s first instinct would be to protect his daughter so i just thought i’d add that. please don’t get upset for that part!

sorry for any mistakes, its 4am and im half asleep trying to read through this to post lol anyways, hope you enjoy! 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @headheartbellarke​ @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​ @fandomxreaders​​ @ifilwtmfc

“Papa!” Margaux screamed, racing across the airport to Owen, the blond boy scooping up the nearly four year old and spinning her around when she reached him. 

“Maggie! I’ve missed you so much.” Owen exclaimed, pulling his mask down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, causing Margaux to giggle loudly. “Where’s your Daddy?” 

“Right behind you.” Owen spun around to find Charlie standing there, clearly smiling at him despite the bandana that covered his mouth, and Owen’s heart skipped a beat at how good Charlie looked in the early morning sun streaming through the airport windows. 

Meanwhile Charlie was thinking the exact same thing, admiring how attractive Owen was, especially when he was in his dad mode. He really understood why girls had such a weakness for cute boys with cute kids when he saw Owen with Margaux. 

Charlie stepped forward, pulling Owen into a tight hug and Margaux whined in complaint at being squished between her dad and her self declared papa. They pulled away from each other, both boys fighting to hide their slightly flushed cheeks. 

“I’m hungry.” Margaux whined, and Charlie was snapped out of his heart eyes daze, his whole focus back on his daughter. 

“Let’s get some food into you before our plane leaves then eh.” He replied, and Margaux nodded happily. 

Feeling bold Owen grabbed onto Charlie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It wasn’t unusual for them to do this but it was the first time doing it when they were well known enough that someone might recognise them. But neither of them really cared. They were just happy to be back together again. 

- 

The minute they arrived in Hawaii they were met with fans. As much as he loved meeting the fans Charlie couldn’t help but sigh slightly as he tried to protect Margaux as much as he could.

It wasn’t that the fans didn’t know about Margaux, because it was a well known fact that he was a single dad, it was more that he wanted to keep her away from the spotlight. She hadn’t asked for her dad to become a well known actor, and she didn’t deserve to have her life changed because of it. He was determined to give her the most normal life possible. 

Eventually they made it to the villa house that they were staying in while in Hawaii, and after throwing their bags into their rooms it was time to have a bit of fun. 

“Swim time swim time!” Margaux sung, running laps around the living room. Kenny chuckled at the small girl, looking up at Charlie who was following closely behind her. 

“It seems like only yesterday she was a tiny two year old who cried every time you left her side.” He said, and Charlie smiled fondly, sitting down on the chair next to Kenny. 

“She’s growing up too fast.” He agreed. “I can’t believe in less than 24 hours time I’ll be a dad to a four year old.” 

Margaux tripped on the tiles, landing with a clatter, her bottom lip jutting out. Charlie jumped up, but before he could even think about moving across the room Owen was by Margaux’s side, helping her up and pulling her into a tight hug. He whispered something in her ear and Margaux giggled loudly, her fall already forgotten.

Charlie smiled softly at the scene, his heart filled with love for both the blond boy and his little princess. 

“Daddy.” Margaux called, snapping Charlie out of his daze. 

“Yeah baby?” He answered, finally making his way across the room. 

“Can we swim now?” She asked, grabbing onto his leg. Charlie subconsciously ran his hand through her soft curls.  

“Of course we can.” He replied. Margaux glanced up at Owen. 

“Papa too?” She questioned. 

“Papa too.” Charlie agreed. Margaux peered past him, her gaze landing on Kenny.

“Coming Uncle Kenny?” She asked, and Kenny laughed, standing up. 

“Coming Little Gillespie.” He replied. 

Margaux smiled contently, taking both Charlie and Owen’s hands to pull them outside towards the pool. 

She really did have every single one of them wrapped around her little finger. 

- 

Dinner that night was special, as it was supposed to be Carolynn’s last day on the island. They decided on a joint party for her last night, as well as celebrating Margaux’s birthday a day early. 

They had headed to a tiny restaurant near their villa, and Charlie had allowed Margaux to pick whatever she wanted from the menu, not that it mattered because she chose chicken nuggets and chips anyways.

The meal was nice, and before they knew it they were arriving back at the villa. Jeremy, Carolynn and Kenny all excused themselves for bed, and Tori settled into the couch, flicking the TV on. 

“Bath and bed time baby.” Charlie told Margaux, and she pouted but obeyed, following him into the hallway. 

“Hey Char, can I ask you something?” Owen asked, trailing behind the father daughter duo, and Charlie stopped, letting Margaux run ahead to their room. 

“Anything.” He smiled. 

“Do you mind if I share your room? I know the other bed was meant to be for Margaux but-” Owen started, playing with his fingers slightly. 

“She can share with me.” Charlie cut him off. “Bed’s all yours.” Owen looked up, his eyes widening. 

“Really?” He checked. 

“Of course.” Charlie smiled. Owen grinned, throwing his arms around Charlie’s neck. 

“Thanks Char. I just didn’t really want to sleep alone.” He admitted, and Charlie squeezed him tight. 

“Any time.” He told Owen, and the blond boy pulled away with a smile, before heading off to the room he was originally going to stay in to collect his bags. 

Charlie entered the room that he and Margaux, and now Owen, were sharing, finding his daughter already snuggled into one of the beds, still wearing her dinner clothes. Charlie sighed, moving to pull her out of the bed. Owen entered the room, bags in tow, and Margaux looked up at him excitedly. 

“Papa! Are you sleeping here?” She questioned. Owen placed his bags in the corner before answering. 

“I am Miss Maggie.” He said, and Margaux cheered. 

“You don’t mind sleeping with Daddy?” Charlie checked, and Margaux shook her head, jumping up to throw her arms around Charlie’s neck. 

“Nope! More cuddles!” She stated. Charlie laughed, picking her up. 

“Exactly right. Now, it’s bath time.” He said, grabbing Margaux’s pyjamas as she clung to him. 

“Bye Papa!” Margaux called as Charlie moved to leave the room. Owen waved. 

“Bye Maggie!” He replied, matching her enthusiasm. Charlie couldn’t help but smile. 

Margaux was so lucky to have someone like Owen in her life. They both were. 

- 

“Daddy! Wake up!” Margaux screamed, jumping on top of Charlie. He groaned, squinting as he looked up at his daughter. 

“What time is it?” He mumbled. Owen sat up in his own bed, grabbing his phone to check the time. 

“4:47am.” He informed Charlie, his voice thick with sleep. Charlie tried to ignore how sexy Owen’s morning voice was, instead focusing on his daughter. 

“Mags it’s too early to be awake.” He told her. Margaux pouted, flopping down on top of him. 

“Daddy, it’s my birthday!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled, kissing her cheek. 

“I know baby, happy birthday. Now can we sleep for a little bit?” He tried. Margaux thought for a moment. 

“Only if Papa comes here too.” She decided. 

Charlie’s eyes widened slightly, eyes fixed on Owen as the younger boy sleepily slid out of his bed with no hesitation, and into Charlie’s, snuggling into Charlie’s side the minute he laid down. Margaux squirmed her way under the covers, squishing herself in between the two of them. 

Charlie shut his eyes in an attempt to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling, as Margaux slept soundly next to him.

His mind was racing, noticing every single little place where Owen’s warm skin was in contact with his. It felt like he was on fire.

“Stop thinking.” Owen mumbled, and Charlie turned his head to see Owen staring at him, his eyes half shut with sleep.

“How did you know?” He questioned. Owen gave him a small smile. 

“I always know. Whatever it is, just ignore it for now. Get some sleep, it’s gonna be a big day.” Owen whispered. Charlie paused for a moment, just staring at Owen in the dim light from Margaux’s nightlight. Even half asleep in the almost complete darkness of the room Owen still looked gorgeous. Charlie swallowed. 

“You’re right. Thanks O.” He replied. 

“Love you.” Owen yawned in response, his eyes shutting again. Charlie smiled softly, moving his hand to brush a bit of Owen’s hair off his face.

“I love you too Owen.” He replied, despite the fact that the younger boy was already asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to Owen’s head, and lowered his voice to no more than a whisper.

“More than I probably should.”

- 

After what felt like no time at all Charlie was being shaken awake again. 

“Daddy is it time to get up now?” Margaux questioned, sitting on his chest. Charlie yawned. 

He reached over and checked his phone. It was just after 6:30am. 

“Okay we can get up. But we’re gonna leave Papa to sleep a little bit more, okay?” Charlie compromised. Margaux thought for a moment before agreeing. Charlie grinned, sliding the both of them out of the bed careful not to wake Owen. Once they were out of the bed Charlie lifted Margaux up, placing her on his hip. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.  

“Now. Let’s go make some birthday pancakes.” 

- 

“Happy birthday Little Gillespie.” Jeremy sung, entering the kitchen with Carolynn close behind him.

Margaux grinned, her mouth full of pancake. 

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, her words muffled by her food. Carolynn stepped past Jeremy, moving to place a gentle kiss on Margaux’s head and whisper to her. Margaux grinned before looking up at her father.

“Hey Daddy?” She spoke. Charlie made a noise in response.

“Yeah?” He said, flipping pancakes onto a plate for both Jeremy and Carolynn.

“Do you think the birthday fairy could found me here?” Margaux questioned, her eyes full of hope. Charlie couldn’t help but smile, not even bothering to correct her words, as he placed the pan down.

“Should we go find out?” He asked. Margaux’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Yeah! But first we have to get Papa.” She decided. Charlie nodded.

“You wanna go wake him up? Tell him we made him some pancakes?” He asked, and Margaux grinned, already sliding out of her chair.

“Okay Daddy!” She replied, before rushing out of the room. The room fell silent for a few moments before Carolynn cleared her throat.

“So Charlie...” She raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been in love with Owen?” 

Charlie choked on his coffee. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He spluttered. Carolynn grinned. 

“You heard me.” She said. Charlie hesitated. 

“I’m not-” He stopped. “I-” 

He groaned. There was no use denying it if clearly he was obvious enough that his friends had figured him out.

“Since filming.” He admitted. Carolynn cheered. 

“You owe me $20.” She told her husband, who glared at Charlie. 

“You just had to admit it, huh?” Jeremy shook his head, and Charlie shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Admit what?” Owen’s voice came from behind them, deep from sleep, and Charlie took a sip of his coffee to try to distract himself. Owen always looked good but in the early morning light, his hair still a mess from sleeping, he looked ethereal. Charlie bit his lip to stop himself from staring.

“Nothing important.” Carolynn replied, and Charlie shot her a thankful look. 

“Can we see if the birthday fairy visited now?” Margaux sighed, clearly impatient. They all laughed. 

“Of course baby.” Charlie told her, standing up. He grabbed the plate of pancakes he had made for Owen, handing them to the younger boy as he passed him. 

Margaux lead the way to the living area where Kenny and Tori were already sat waiting, squealing with excitement when she saw the small pile of presents on the table.

“They came!” She exclaimed, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Margaux settled down on the couch as everyone spread out around the room, and one by one she opened the presents, eyes widening with excitement at every single one. 

Charlie had gotten her a few dolls that he knew she had been wanting, plus some new clothes, books and other toys. 

Jeremy and Carolynn had gotten her a small paint set with a Frozen paint by numbers. 

Kenny had gotten her a tiny version of the Sunset Curve shirt that the cast had all received. 

Tori had gotten her a little lilac tutu. 

Madi, Jadah and Savannah had sent their presents, some handmade earrings, little stud versions of the ghost drawings that Carolynn had created from Madi, a small pair of overalls from Savannah, and a colouring book from Jadah.

But her absolute favourite gift had come from Owen, a tan coloured bear from Build-A-Bear that he had dressed like Luke, and the clothes to change the bear into Reggie, Alex and Julie if she wanted to. 

After hugs all round the group decided to go their own ways, with Kenny heading off to spend the day relaxing, and Tori, Jeremy and Carolynn going to the beach to sunbathe since Carolynn’s flight had been delayed. 

“Where do you want to go today birthday girl?” Charlie asked, as he and Owen collected the pile of gifts to move them back to their room.

Margaux frowned in thought, the bear still grasped in her arms.

“Hiking.” She decided, and Charlie laughed. She was definitely his daughter.

“You sure? We can do whatever you want to do.” He checked. Margaux nodded, her attention focused on her new clothes that Charlie had placed on the bed to fold later. 

“I’m sure.” She said, reaching for the Sunset Curve shirt and overalls. “Can I wear this?”

“Of course you can.” Charlie agreed. 

“I’m gonna have a quick shower.” Owen said, grabbing some clothes out of his bag. Charlie nodded, focused on helping Margaux change out of her pyjamas into her new clothes.

“Do you think we can have some time tonight just you and me?” Charlie asked once Margaux was dressed, moving to grab her hairbrush and some hair ties.

“Yes please Daddy.” Margaux agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed as Charlie sat behind her.

“We could go get dinner just the two of us, and then come back here for birthday cake.” He suggested. Margaux frowned, clearly thinking. 

“Is it chocolate cake?” She asked after a moment, and Charlie paused from brushing her hair to kiss the top of her head. 

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He teased. Charlie finished tying her hair up into two little space buns, not quite proper buns but as close as he could get with her shortish hair.

“I hope it’s chocolate cake. I love chocolate cake.” She giggled, standing up on the bed and turning around to hug her father. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, a gesture that was so safe and familiar. 

“Me too baby, me too.” He agreed. Margaux snuggled her head into his shoulder. 

“Is Papa coming hiking?” She questioned. Charlie grinned to himself. 

“Do you want him to come?” He asked. Margaux didn’t even hesitate. 

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure he’d love to come.” Charlie assured her. She pulled away. looking him in the eyes. Charlie had always loved that she had gotten his eyes. 

“Do I ask him?” She said, eyes wide. Charlie struggled to contain a laugh at how serious she looked. 

“When he comes back, yeah.” He nodded. 

“When who comes back?” Owen asked, re-entering the room. Margaux jumped up, throwing herself at the 20 year old. He lifted her up with no hesitation. 

“Are you gonna come hiking?” Margaux asked, her bottom lip jutting out in a pleading way. 

“Of course I am. Wouldn’t want to miss spending time with my two favourite people.” Owen grinned, kissing her nose causing her to giggle. Charlie’s heart skipped a beat at the declaration that he was one of Owen’s favourite people. 

“Yay! Can we go now?” Margaux turned in Owen’s arms to face her father. He nodded, standing up from the bed. 

“Shoes, and then we can go.” He said, and Margaux squirmed her way out of Owen’s arms to go find her running shoes. 

Charlie exchanged a look with Owen, the both of them thinking the same thing. 

It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Hiking with a just turned four year old was exhausting, even despite them choosing the easiest possible trail so that she wouldn’t have any issues.

It was fine at first, Margaux excitedly looking at the plants and trying to spot any animals in the trees, but after about twenty minutes she got bored and tired, and Charlie and Owen spent the rest of the hike passing her back and forth between the two of them.

Finally they made it back to the villa, and after a quick stop for lunch Margaux was recharged and ready for the rest of the day.

“Can we swim?” She asked. Charlie nodded.

“We’ll go and get changed, and then we can go in the pool for a while until we have to get ready for dinner, okay?” He suggested. 

“Okay Daddy.” Margaux smiled sweetly. 

-

After quickly changing into their swimmers, Charlie, Margaux and Owen ended up in the pool, Jeremy and Carolynn lounging nearby. 

They swam for a few hours until Margaux got thirsty, and with a promise of apple juice she and Charlie climbed out of the pool leaving Owen to go sit with the Shada’s. 

Charlie walked inside the villa, finding Kenny sat at the kitchen bench reading while Tori lounged on one of the couches, staring at her phone. 

“Why don’t we do cake now, so that you don’t have to worry about rushing home?” Kenny spoke up, as Charlie manoeuvred through the kitchen to get the apple juice out, Margaux clinging to his chest like a baby koala. 

“That’s a good idea. Do you want to do your birthday cake now Mags?” Charlie asked his daughter, pouring her some apple juice. She sipped on the juice, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yeah!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled. 

“Okay, can you go get Papa, Aunty Care and Uncle Jer for me?” He asked, placing her down. She nodded eagerly, handing her cup of juice to him before rushing outside to where Owen, Jeremy and Carolynn were still sat.

Charlie grabbed the cake out of the fridge and placed it on the bench, before putting the four candles in, and grabbing a lighter.

“Have you seen my camera Kenny?” He asked, and Kenny just pointed to the end of the bench where the camera was sitting. Charlie smiled gratefully, grabbing the camera.

“Want me to take photos?” Tori offered, and Charlie nodded, handing her the camera. 

Margaux re-entered the room, Owen and the Shada’s following close behind her, and when she reached her father he lifted her up. Kenny took the lighter, lighting the candles on the cake and together they sung Happy Birthday to Margaux, Tori snapping photos as the four year old blew out her candles. 

Charlie held Margaux close to him as Kenny divided the cake up, thankful that he had such an amazing family to spend his little girl’s birthday with. 

-

When Charlie and Margaux made it back to the villa after their dinner that night, the newly four year old was ready to fall asleep. Charlie carried her to bed, silently thanking his past self for deciding to give her a bath and do her birthday cake before they went to dinner because now all he had to do was change her into her pyjamas. 

He changed her quickly seeing that she was almost asleep, and tucked her into the bed. 

“Did you have a good birthday baby?” Charlie asked softly, settling down next to his daughter.

Margaux just nodded in response. 

“That’s good.” Charlie ran a hand through her curls. “Goodnight baby girl.” 

“Big girl.” Margaux mumbled sleepily. Charlie smiled, leaning down and kissing her head. 

“You might be a big girl now but you’ll always be my baby girl.” He whispered. “I love you.” 

“I love you too Daddy.” Margaux replied, her eyes already shut and her arms wrapped tightly around her new bear. Charlie stood up slowly and headed to the door, leaving it open a crack for a little bit of light to shine in. 

He paused for a moment, just taking in the reality that Margaux was already four years old, and that she was growing up too fast. With one last look at the door he made his way down the hallway and outside to where he knew Owen was waiting. 

“She’s asleep.” He announced, flopping down on the outdoor sofa next to Owen. 

“I’m not shocked, she’s had a big day.” Owen replied, handing Charlie a cold beer that he had clearly gotten for him. Charlie took it thankfully, taking a large swig. 

“Can you believe that she’s four already? It feels like she was only just born and I was waking up to find out that her mother was gone and that it was only me and her. It was terrifying at the time, but looking back I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He rambled. Owen rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder and Charlie wrapped his arm around the younger boy, pulling him closer.

“You should be proud of yourself Char. You’ve done an amazing job.” Owen complimented, snuggling closer to Charlie as he took a mouthful of his beer.

“You think so?” Charlie questioned. Owen nodded against his shoulder.

“I know so.” He sat up. “Margaux is the most well behaved kid I’ve ever met, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her misbehave once in all the time I’ve known her. She’s an amazing kid and it’s all because she has the most amazing father.”

“Thank you.” Charlie whispered, suddenly realising how close Owen was to him. He could feel Owen’s warm breath on his lips, and he found himself leaning in, the urge to kiss Owen overtaking his entire being. His lips brushed against Owen’s ever so slightly, but before they could properly commit to the kiss they were interrupted. 

“Hey, we’re gonna play...” Tori’s voice came and they jumped apart quickly. She trailed off, eyeing them carefully. “Were you two about to kiss?”

Charlie cleared his throat. Owen’s eyes widened.

“Uh... no?” Owen lied. Tori shot them a suspicious look but clearly decided against pushing.

“Right... well we’re gonna play Cards Against Humanity if you want to join us.” She told them, before turning and heading back inside. Neither Charlie nor Owen moved, the silence was deafening. Finally Owen spoke.

“Sorry.” He muttered quickly, before standing up and rushing inside. Charlie groaned, watching him leave, the feeling of Owen’s lips still lingering on his own.

“Fuck.” He sighed, downing the last of his beer before standing up to join the rest of the group inside.

He would have to deal with the Owen situation later.

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie x owen #charlie gillespie #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #dad!charlie #chowen

[jojoreadwhat]

lie  / h.s. x fem!reader • smut

where y/n has had enough of their “arrangement” and harry is unsure about his feelings.

words; 4k, this isn’t proofread and I’m sorry

warning; friends with benefits theme. angst, strong language, sexual content including handjob, oral(f!receiving) fingering, edging, penetrative sex. under final cut. then will be concluding with lots of fluff and aftercare. reader is advised

I listened to this

+

it was going on 3am and Harry was finally giving up on the idea of sleep.

he thought he would have fallen asleep by now after the day he had previously. jam packed with photoshoots, interviews, some time at the studio with Mitch and then ended the night with a party. it was seeming like the liquor he downed earlier on, coursing through his veins wasn’t ready to slow anytime soon yet. and he was over it. tossing and turning in his king sized bed since midnight. he sighed roughly to himself the moment his back met the mattress, lying there still now. defeated and annoyed, looking up at the clear, white ceiling above him. with his mind speckled in thought, the real reason why he wasn’t in a heavy slumber right now.

tonight wasn’t the first one without a good night of sleep. this was night five now. with you on his mind and not next to him. and it wasn’t because you miles apart from each other, on different sides of the earth no. you on his mind wasn’t something new or missing you either. but it was different this time around. when a few days ago, that all changed. when he let you walk out that door, because of him.

harry hasn’t seen you or heard from you for nearly a week now. since you stormed out of this room. he remembers the moment, so vividly. it hasnt left his brain, instead embedded itself to remind him of how much of an asshole he truly is. your naked frame scurrying around his room, picking up all your clothes scattered from the events that took place shortly before. with anger, embarrassment, the sadness that you contained by biting your bottom lip. after spilling your heart out to him, that you loved him. breaking the first rule to your arrangement.

you and harry had a very complicated friendship in the last eight months. at first it wasn’t, it was a very traditional one. both of you met at a mutual friends party a year earlier, hitting it off from the start and the rest became history. you two were inseparable, doing everything, literally, together. you were his date to most of his events, went on trips and getaways together, did mundane things like grocery shopping, which was always a experience. you both hung out all the time. smoking together most nights and playing records, while laying on his living room floor. talking about everything to anything. harry even gave you a key and your own spot in his dresser. you two were a dream team, the friendship that many aspired to have. the one that everyone was waiting to watch bloom into something more.

things changed out of the blue one night. you had come over, distraught over a guy that you were seeing for two months who wasn’t ready for anything to go further. Harry and you did the next best thing, passing a blunt back and forth among each other. lying on his living room floor, listening to fleetwood mac faintly in the background. talking over the worthless two months, the piece of shit of a guy Jared was and how finding love in this day and age just didn’t make sense. next thing you knew, Harry’s waist was wrapped in your legs, his weight heavy enough on you as he kissed you hard and long. your fingers twisted in his little dark brown curls at the back of his neck as pulled him back down to you. neither of you knew how it started, what made the sudden change but you never looked back.

this friends with benefits thing went on for eight months, filling in some void that you both were missing. it was great, really great. you had each other whenever you wanted. whatever how long you wanted. nobody knew about it as far as you know. you were careful, even when the need was necessary at strange times or at places other than both your beds. there was one time that harry flew you out to italy for a weekend for nothing but that (and you as a plus one at gucci) it was a weekend that neither of you would admit, still gave you both chills looking back. all around your arrangement worked, it wasn’t a disaster like some of the stories or movies told. it was perfect in every way.

until now. where you both were going through the longest drought to date and feelings were involved.

for harry, the night that you admitted how you felt for him after all this time. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same as you, he just wasn’t sure that he did. he needed you more than he realized, more then he wanted to believe. for a while now. he has been denying the change for so long that when he was faced with the reciprocation, he froze and put his guard up. but in all reality, he has been in love with you since the beginning of time.

you were his girl, his person. you knew him in and out, you didn’t care about his status or money. you treated him as harry. your best friend. his number one cheerleader. the hug he needed after a rough day. the laugh he wanted hear before he closed his eyes and when he woke up. the child like heart of yours as you sat in the cart, sneaking candy in the cashier line. the dance partner he needed in the early morning in the middle of the kitchen. his plus one that he was excited to have on red carpet with his arm around. the lips he wanted to kiss, all the time and not just in the moment. so soft and sweet against his. he wanted, needed everything before and after the arrangement. he needed you and he should’ve told you before letting you leave.

in a rush, harry threw his gray duvet off his shirtless himself, sitting up and standing out of his bed. not caring about his hair or the sleep deprivation evident on his face. he threw on his black hoodie, searching for his cream vans and heading down the hall to grab his keys to his Mercedes and out to the driveway he went. on his way to you.

——————————————————————————

not finding the ability to sleep. you were laying on your couch, lights off with only the blue light reflection off the tv screen while aimlessly watching a movie you didn’t catch the title to. this was becoming a ritual for the last few nights. awake past your usual time, feeling it hit hard in the morning. drinking the sleep you missed prior in a paper cup. overwhelmed with the same thoughts from morning to night. you huffed, having enough of it. hastily flicking off the tv by the remote before turning over on the couch, clutching the yellow throw to yourself and closing your eyes tight.

after no calls or texts, a clear indication that it was over. you were feeling like a fool on how much you allowed this to get to you. you shouldn’t be feeling this sad. you finally got your answer. you shouldn’t be missing him. you should be pissed off. mad. you should be going out with your friends and trying to find someone to forget the dreadful blissful months you endured. but you’re not. because you miss him. because you love him. everything little thing about him and he doesn’t feel the same. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life. so confused by everything.

none of it made sense. his response beat the shit out of you. you werent expecting him to love you back but at the same time, you knew there had to be something there. the way things were even when you weren’t tangled up in each other limbs, fucking like rabbits. harry gave you so much confidence that he was feeling the same way about you like you did for him. holding your hand in public, kissing in the most exposed places, never denying that you weren’t his girl when asked at events. instead, his grip on your waist would tighten. he would smile at you, kissing the top of your head. making sure you were okay at all times, keeping his focus on you no matter the situation. when you were alone, he would declare you as his all the time. every fiber of your skin he touched “all mine.” he would say, so low to hear but for your ears only. you wanted it all back. even if it was all for fun and games.

hypothetically kicking yourself for being so brave. for placing your heart on your sleeve for it only to be held by cheap thread. for wanting it back, for wanting to continue the charades because it’s better than nothing at all. you didn’t deserve that. you needed better. someone willing to give you that in reality and not only behind closed doors. someone who is lucky to have you at all times and not when its for a fixing.

you sighed to yourself, rolling back over to glance at your phone on the coffee table. bright in the darkened room, squinting to see, it read now quarter to 4am and you rolled your eyes. done with the fiddle faddle with your thoughts, you needed sleep and you were over allowing this situation to consume you further. rising from the couch, you wrapped the throw over your shoulders to protect you from the chill from here to your bedroom. looking around to make sure all was good before continuing on.

approaching the foyer of where your staircase and living room entrance met. you were startled by hard, repetitive knocks to your front door. you froze where you stood. who could be here at this hour? You thought to yourself. you quietly reached for a vase on a nearby table. creeping closer to the door.

the knock happened again before stopping once more. “love, y/n.” you heard the raspy, tired voice from the other side of the door. it was Harry. “it’me, please open up.”

you bit your lip, rolling your eyes. fuck, you muttered to yourself before placing the vase back down. unlocking the door and flinging it open gently. there he stood in front of you. in your favorite attire, all casual in just a hoodie and joggers that hugged his bottom half just right. his chestnut hair, a mess and disheveled, golden at the top from the porch light above him. scruff peppered around his mouth and along his jaw. his green eyes like daggers on you as he watched you search him, using the time to figure to say hey right. the stare made you feel a bit beside yourself, pulling the throw closer to yourself and over your flimsy pink cami paired with gray sweats. you cleared your throat, looking at the street and breaking the silent stare.

“I hope your not here to get something from me.” you stated, then. looking anywhere but at him like you wanted. taking everything you to keep yourself together as you placed between wanting to yell at him and tell him to never see you again and wanting to pull him in to make up for the lost time. “ha, no.” harry shook his head at your comment. raising his hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it, nervously. “I came m’ere to talk.” he said, “if that’s alright?”

you both stood there for a moment before opening the door further slowly. giving him room to come right in. his cologne of vanilla and sandalwood hitting the brim of your nose the second he slipped by you. something you missed, being caught up in it. you pressed your back against the door, hearing it shut behind yourself as you followed after harry to the living room where he made himself at home. he stood poised next to your gray linen couch, waiting to see you approach the room before he took a seat on it. patting the spot next to him. overwhelmed by the time, by his presence and all the emotions bouncing around like a pin ball machine in your mind and body. you treading carefully around your coffee table, joining him shortly after and becoming leveled with his green orbs.

it was quiet for the first few minutes, and not the comfortable kind that you’d fall into from time to time. watching Harry’s rosy plump lips open and close, seeing his hand rise to them, his index and thumb pinching his bottom lip, struggling with what to say first. tongue tied by the fact that you let him in in the first place. he wasn’t prepared to not be given a fight. he sighed, roughly. “I’ve missed you so much.” he began, taking you by surprise and lacing his fingers with yours.

you shook your head, leaving his grasp before standing up from the couch. “please don’t lie to me, harry.” stopping whatever his plan was firsthand. “I’m not falling into this.. trap. I told you how I felt and that’s that. don’t take it for granted.” harry stood up to meet you, wanting to get closer, pull you closer to him but he left the space for you.

“M’not lying. I missed you.” going on, “I came ‘ere to talk. to tell ya I’m sorry. that I regret the moment that ya walked out the door.” he finished, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as he spoke. you furrowed your brows, the confusion rising again. “why are you sorry? you don’t feel the same and I just have to deal with that. that’s nothing to be–” harry grew closer at the last bit of your speech. cutting in. “but it wasn’t the truth. I do feel the same and I let you leave thinking I didn’t. that’s what I’m sorry about.”

you were stuck. shocked to say the least. you couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth, but your inner self wasn’t going to let it sink in so easily. “please don’t do this. harry, if you lying to me. I will never forgive you. so please stop.” feeling your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened the rim. harry shook his head, his hands meeting at the top of your shoulders as he looked you in the eyes. “I won’t stop because I’m not lying.” feeling his hands running down your arms, slow to stop and grab your hands in his. “I love you, y/n. I fucking love you.” you looked up at him at rise in volume at his last words. his eyes searching your face and yours doing just the same. trying to find any flake that this wasn’t real, that what he just said was only in your mind and wasn’t just said into the air. you bit at your now quivering bottom lip, trying to keep yourself together.

“if you’re messing with me, H. I swear to god” needing another reassurance, harry flashed his cheeky infamous smile at the use of his nickname from you. feeling normalcy, before his large, soft hands left yours to scoop your face. tilting it up to his. “I mean it. with everything I have, all I own. I mean it.” he said, “I love you, I always have and will.” his words silver off his lips. you couldn’t explain the feeling that rouse in you but you felt tears, happy ones, beginning to make way down your cheeks. “I love you too.” you muttered softly to harry, him still smiling toothlessly now as his thumbs collected the droplets. before leaning down and capturing your lips with his.

the moment they met, your body responded immediately. rising in heat from head to toe. melting into harry as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. one hand still caressing your cheek, while the other dug tightly at your waist. the long days of not being wrapped up, sharing sweet pecks or laughs amongst one another was felt right now. the kiss starting out so sweet and tender, feeling the smiles and hearts combust in happiness. soon were taken over by neediness, lust and desire from the lost time. his tongue running along your bottom lip, asking for entry to deepen the kiss. never feeling something so powerful shared between the two of you. never pulling away long enough to catch breath, harry directed you both towards the couch. his hands clasping are your bum, silently telling you to jump into his arms before settling you both down with him beneath you, straddling his lap.

you let out a breathy moan when his lips met the spot connecting your jaw and neck. peppering kisses along your jawline as your fingers got lost in his thick curls. feeling him smiling against you with every little sound only he could get out of you, marking what belonged to him. he pulled away slightly, having you chase his lips and cheeks and leaving him in a fit of chuckles. understanding the neediness you were trying to release, you could feel his against the inside of your thigh. he placed his hands back on your face, pulling you down to kiss you again, before backing away once more and resting his forehead to yours. “do you want to go upstairs?” you asked, softly. hands flattening at the fabric on his broad chest, straightening his shirt. meeting his gaze, harry smiled slightly, cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his again. “I’d love to.” his warm, minty breath grazing your mouth. you smiled, then.  before rising off of harry. your feet touching the chill of hardwood floor, standing between his legs before reaching out for him to grab a hold of your hand. allowing you to direct him, hand in hand, up the stairs and to your bedroom.

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

the moment harry and you entered the bedroom. he beaconed you to the bed, immediately bringing you down with him. leaving where you left off moments ago, on harry’s lap, hands in his hair. his green eyes, darkened in lust, smirking up at you before his lips met yours in a slow, sweet embrace. 

“I want to take my time with you tonight.” he spoke, breathlessly. Looking up at you, pecking your nose. running his thumbs under eyes, noticing the lack of sleep evident likewise, then along your cheeks and to your bottom lip. “Are you up for that, love?” He asked, like the gentleman he is. “Hm?” eyes on you, going in and kissing your collarbone. leaving you to bite back a cross between a whimper and giggle, “please.” you cried.

”good.” he muttered, softly. smirking and placing both of his hands on you bum, squeezing light before rolling you over so quickly you couldn't register what was happening until you were lying flat on your back, him hovering you now and his teeth were nipping at you ear. you squealed and wiggled beneath his heavy, toned body, and his mouth left kisses on your neck, your collar bone, back to your lips again. one of his tattooed arms, rested next your head, steadying himself while the other roamed your body. savoring any exposed skin of yours on his fingertips. your body following the feeling of his hands as they ran along it, up and down your waist, to your hip. moaning lightly into one of the grazes of your lips, harry's own curling up at the sides.

with his hands clasping your waist and under your shirt. you began to feel the fabric rise up. harry broke his lips away from your neck, rolling the shirt up and over your head. throwing it to the floor. the chill of the room now hitting your topless body, your nipples hardening more to the new adjustment. your hands falling into harry’s hair again as he lowered himself along your body. kissing the skin over your breasts. looking up at you, watching you.  harry took one of your harden nipples into his mouth, the other between his fingers of his hand. tracing X's and O's over and around. him kissing, licking, sucking, biting at every bit of your bare skin. earning him moans and whimpers from you, continuing to watch you lose yourself. feeling privileged to see this sight of you, only him. only he could get this arouse out of you. your head rested on the pillow, a whimpering mess from only his mouth. giving him all the rights to ravage your body. 

the anticipation was getting the best of you. you wanted him now, you were already over with his toying around. “harry, please.” you whimpered, “p-please do something.” harry looked up, smirking at you, devilishly before he climbed back up. your legs wrapped around his middle, pushing him closer to you. “eager aren’t we?” he retorted. you smiled into a moan when you felt his erected shaft underneath his joggers, graze your throbbing clit, covered in your drenched panties. you weren’t the only one.

harry tilted your face up towards his, pecking your lips sweetly and pulling away only centimetres. “stay patient, love.” he muttered, then. before going back down your body again. trickling kisses above the waistband of your sweats. feeling his long, slender fingers slid under the band, pulling the pants down agonizingly slow before he was faced with your panties now. 

he groaned at the sight of the wet spot on them, causing you to gasp when he ran three fingers over your clothed heat. “you’re so wet.” he swallowed, meeting his green eyes with yours, darkened and glazed over in lust and desire. “and its all for me.” not wasting another second before pulling the fabric down off you and you hissing at the sharp chill grace your cunt. 

harry continued to tease, starting from your knee and aligning kisses on your inner thighs. feeling his breath graze where you wanted his mouth the most. you bucked your hips once at him, immediately his hands meeting them “ah ah.” he spoke, you looked down at him, him raising a brow and his green eyes flashing up at you. silently telling you to “be patient.” again. leaving you irritated as your head forcefully met the pillow. but the little tantrum working in your favor when you felt his lips kiss your mound, following a stride of his tongue against your swollen clit. like an electric shock to your body. he worked you slow and hard, careful, taking his time like this was going to be the last. building you up to the top, then slowing down to do it all over again. your hands wrapped up in his curls, bringing him as close as you could. directing him where you wanted him as you rotated your hips until he had enough, holding your lower half down, your legs on his shoulders and your hands in his. as he devoured you like a delicacy. and having you come on his tongue. twice.

once he was done tasting you, so fucked out and spaced, you hadn’t noticed him standing at the end of your bed. undressing himself until he was left in his briefs, crawling back over you, his legs parting yours at the knees as his large hand cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. nudging his nose with yours, he pecked your cheek, “are you still with me, love?” he asked, noticing how you were still trying to get to your whereabouts. harry’s fingers of his other hand were drawing little circles to your hip, to the top of your heat. you nodded slow, giving him the go to continue further when you felt his finger slip through your soaked folds, before entering you. you moaned at the feeling, harry now resting his forehead to yours as his fingers moved in and out of you at a generous pace. one of your hands, met harry’s face gently. while your free one went searching passed his tented briefs, before embracing his hard, thicken shaft in your hand. causing harry’s breath to hitch at the contact. collecting the pre-cum at the top of his swollen tip, lubing him up and running your hand tightly around his cock, stroking him. his free hand holding your face close to his, both swallowing each other’s moans in between heated kisses as you got each other off.

harry could feel you tightening around his fingers, growing closer to the edge. he pulled his fingers away from you and backed away from your touch. you shuttered in surprise, pouting from the loss of contact. looking up at him, searching for an explanation for only to be left watering in your mouth from the view of harry the two fingers that were occupied and covered by your juices, into his mouth. tasting you. in a need, you leaned up to meet harry halfway, pulling him into another countless kiss. your hand travelling to his shaft that was resting stiff against his abdomen when his hand met it mid stream, tangling his fingers with yours.

“no love, I need you now.” he commanded, gently pushing you back down. laying on top of you, feeling his cock resting against you. the same hand still wrapped in yours, now next to your head. while the other placed your thigh around him, before wrapping his hand around his shaft, positioning himself perfectly aligned with your cunt. feeling the tip. his head falling into the nook of your neck, his curls tickling your skin, lips warm against your neck and shoulder as he slipped into you, slow.

you gasped at him expanding your walls, being cautious, taking his time as he waited for you adjust to him. muttering sweet nothings, kissing you all over the place before he heard the green light from you. starting a nice rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting right back in. his hands all over you, his mouth connected to any bit of your skin that he could taste. his moans and grunts grazing hot at your ear were enough to have you orgasm right then and there for him. but any moment that you felt like you were growing closer, harry would slow down. lazily pounding into you, muttering affirmations. “you’re so beautiful.” to “you feel so good, love.”

your new favorite though almost was barely audible when he began to pick up the pace, colliding with the friction of your skin meeting. kissing you deeply, “I love you.” he said, softly but sincere. your eyes opening from focusing on the repetition to his words, “say it again.” you said looking at him with half lidded eyes, your glistening skin in a sheen of sweat. harry smirked big before you watched his mouth almost ‘o’

“I love you, y/n.” he said again. leaving you to moan at the sound of it, leaning up slightly, chasing his lips with yours. “I love you too” you spoke against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his back. soon beginning to dig when you felt yourself growing close.

harry began to feel you clenching around him. “are you close, baby?” he muttered. immursed in the how beautifully your bodies moved today, like they were made for this. you met his gaze again, “y-yes” you stuttered in between a moan, he then peck your lips, grabbing your hands like daggers from his back into his large hands, setting them above your head. beginning to speed up, driving to home base. thrusting into you erratically, both your breathy moans and sounds echoing against the walls of the room. his head falling to meet his mouth to your ear, “come with me, come with me, come with me” he repeated.

and before you could even think of attempting to hold back. without a warning, you cried out in absolute pleasure as your orgasm ripples through you. your back arching, collecting every bit. harry’s hands clasping to meet your middle as he senselessly pounded into you when his hips snapped back, meeting his own euphoria and he released warm and heavy into you. collapsing limply onto your body, his weight heavy and him completely exhausted, but in a unrelaxed, happy state. in a haze from what just took place seconds ago.

you both lied there, motionless. breathless with a dry throat, panting and clammy. you lazily ran your fingers through harry’s hair where his head lied, resting on your chest between your breasts. he slowly looked up at you. his green eyes soft now, his smile, toothlessly and dreamy that you felt butterflies sworm. “you alright, love?” he whispered, you smiled, nodding to answer. your hand, caressing his milky, glistening cheek. leaving you in a fit of giggles, when he turned his mouth in the direction of your palm. kissing it before lazily climbing up you and placing his hands on your cheeks. just staring at each other for a moment, gazing, taking each other in before he smile, kissing your cheek and bringing his attention back to you.

“did I tell you that I love you?” he smiled, feeling heat rise to your cheek. biting your lip, you shrugged. “Mmm, maybe once or twice?” you said, then. wrapping your arms around his neck. harry flashed a bright smile, leaning closer to your lips with his. “well i’ve got all night to tell you more.” he said, before crashing his lips on yours.

#Harry Styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #slutforbritdick

[princessmariaphiliper]

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 3 The Dreaming

Notes: James Acaster, Ed Gamble (Platonic), and other characters to be added. Masturbation, Foodplay, Not sure of anything else, Cheeseboards?

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader 

Genre: Smut (Self woohoo as the sims would say), Fluff, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,400

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way. 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /  Part 9

Saturday morning you had awoke with a dry mouth, pounding head, and in desperate need of a bath. Thus far you’d taken the day slow. Occasionally needing to lay down whenever another wave of your hangover hit. This had brought you to the position you’d assumed for most of the day so far. Sprawled out on the sofa with a duvet, hoping someone would magically show up at your door with a plate of comfort food.

Past talking to Ed in the smoking area you couldn’t one hundred percent make out the events late last night. You did however have a hazy memory of returning to said spot an hour later for a secret cigarette with him this time. Something Ed hadn’t done in years. You recalled much more terrible dancing, drinking, and sitting on a wall outside a kebab van at 4am, absolutely steaming.

You also had a new name that you remembered James punching into your phone early in the morning. ‘Dairylea’ the name read. Chucking to yourself you pulled up the chat.

How we feeling Dairylea triangle. x

It was late in the afternoon now, and you were idly watching something on the TV as you typed. James responded after a few minutes.

Can we not bring up food please. Doesn’t feel great not gonna lie

Same here. I haven’t moved all day, feels like I’ve become my sofa.

I found a video

You waited a few seconds before it had loaded on your phone. Turning up the sound and watching. It was you James and Ed outside the kebab truck, sloppily eating and chatting to one another. You holding the phone up, thinking you were taking a picture of the three of you.

“Oh it’s a video, fuck sake” You spoke slower than normal. James laughed at you, taking the phone from you to get a different angle.

“I just want to say. These chips are possibly the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Ed nodded silently from the corner, seemingly more to himself than you or James.

“Try one Y/N”

“I have the same ones James”

“Yes but they’re not my chips.” He held one up to your face “My chips are superior”

“Why’s that then?”

“Because they’re mine”

You watched yourself laugh at his boyish humour and bite the end of his chip.

“You’re funny you know” You spoke with your mouth full.

“I should hope so.”

“No like,” You were staring at him now with a dumb smile plastered across his face. You admitted your next sentence shyly “I really admire you and I think you’re a little bit brilliant but don’t tell anyone.”

“Nah. Any old tit can write some jokes and act like a dick on stage. Ed does it all the time. You’re doing like, actual, important things. Changing people's lives, I think you’re incredible Y/N.”

The two of you stared at each other, sharing a long moment of eye contact and drunk smiles. Ed mumbled something through his mouthful of food. Drawing both of your attention back into the real world and James stopping the recording. You blushed a little to yourself, feeling overwhelmed by the honesty you’d shared with him last night. You hoped you hadn’t said anything more embarrassing.

One for the archives, Ed’s making love to those cheesy chips

Aha yeah he is. Was a good night though, I had fun

Yeah me too! We should all get together again sometime

Maybe not drink as much though

If you’re free anytime this week we could have a movie night?

Only if there is ice-cream on the menu

I’m sure I can make that happen, any flavour preference?

All of them. He responded.

You’d had the hots for James all evening. Since the two of you had wrapped up your conversation you couldn’t get that thought of him out of your head. You couldn’t tell if it was the way you’d seen him look at you on the video he sent or if it was simply your own mind ready to flood you with dark fantasies. And so, when it came to ten o'clock you found yourself in bed, wearing only your bra and pants, unable to get him off your mind.

You’d watched the video a few times now. Observing his features cutely scrunch when you talked about him. As well as how they relaxed when talking about you. There was a four second frame in the video where you could see the back of James’s left hand clear as day. You had found yourself mesmerised by the veiny long fingers, thinking about what they could do to you if given the chance. The first three times you’d watched it you felt rather guilty about fantasising over your new friend. But by the fifth watch you sensed a need for release on your own part. Deciding that it wasn’t going to be weird if he never found out. Maybe it was all the flirting you’d done the night previous or simply your hormone cycle. But you were horny and needing to relieve some pressure. You slid your hands inside of your underwear. James voice playing in your mind.

‘Touch yourself Y/N’ he said, and you did as you were told. Following his command, you began to lighting caress on your inner thigh, teasing yourself before the main event. You moved closer into your inner parts, rubbing on your clit and barely entering inside of yourself.

‘Don’t tease’ you imagined him saying. Screwing up your brows before entering inside yourself with one digit. Feeling around your insides becoming wetter and wetter by the minute. You began thinking about his fingers again. How it had felt to have them pressed on your lips and brush the hair from your face the night before. How lovely they might feel rubbing on your clit and reach your sweet spot inside.

“James” you moaned to yourself, breath hitching in your throat as you began to rub on your clit again, harder this time. Deciding fingers were not enough to satisfy your dark fantasy you rolled out of bed to find your vibrator underneath various pairs of underwear in a bottom drawer. Ready to continue you slunk back under the covers.

You took off your underwear and began to rub yourself with the vibrator for a while. The sensation sending waves through you as you pressed firmly against your clit. Already too wet to bear it any longer you slipped it inside, gasping as you did so. You moaned to yourself, Jame’s imaginary voice purring sweet moans back at you. Picturing him rocking in and out of you repetitively as you rubbed more intensely at your clit now. Having something inside being just what you needed. You felt the knot building in your stomach,

‘Y/N’ rolling off his tongue as it has the night before. The thought of his lips laced with tobacco. The knowledge that fucking him would have to be your little secret. All these things turning over in your head as you came closer and closer to your climax. You thought about seeing him again, his last text to you teasing, imagining ice cream all over your body and him licking at you to taste the flavours.

You came then, your climax rolling through you in waves as you fucked down onto the vibrator. Everything going white as you gasped to yourself. Opening your eyes again after dwelling in bliss for some time.

Guilt, shame, and embarrassment clouded over you. Maybe it was more than a crush that you had on James. Ed’s face of disappointment in you running through your mind. You just hoped that James wouldn’t pick up on how you’d been thinking about him next time you met.  

 A few more days passed of you playing back and forth with your emotions, and you’d arranged for a movie night with James and Ed. It was now early Wednesday evening and you’d just gotten home from work. The day had gone just as bad as it had the previous week, and you had half a mind to cancel on the two of them. But ultimately deciding that maybe some company would help to cheer you up. You didn’t know quite what to cook for dinner and so in the end you’d decided a charcuterie board was the safest option. You knew Ed loved one, so did you, you crossed your fingers and hoped for the best response from James. Serving up cured meats, olives, and crispy bread to go alongside it. You hadn’t needed to cook anything, minus the camembert, just simply arranged the selection on a wooden slab.

You wanted to make an effort tonight. It wasn’t often that you had people over and you loved to have people feel comfortable in your own home. It relaxed you as well. You’d bought ice cream, just as he requested with a blush at the memory of a few nights ago. You had deserved it after such a long day at work. Ed arrived first. Making his way up from rehearsals.

“Hey” He smiled, barking at you from the doorway, bottle of red in his hands. “I didn’t want to come empty handed” Ed was wearing a plain blue jeans and a white tee with a casual bowling shirt over the top.

“Thanks Ed, I’ll put it out to share”

“Is James here yet?”

“No he’s on his way, he said he wouldn’t be long”

Ed plopped down on the sofa, you’d brought out your duvet to create a more cosy atmosphere which he’d embraced rather gracefully. He kicked off his shoes (not before asking permission) and curled up underneath the far end. You poured yourself a wine, as well as one for Ed. You joined him now, grabbing the remote and flicking through your movie options, just as a knock rapped at the door.

“Come in James,” You shouted “Its unlocked love”

James opened your door. Wearing a pair of red corduroy trousers and thick cosy sweater. His socks, you noted, were a bright mustard colour. Visible from how his trouser cuffs folded. He fully entered your living room holding a shopping bag in his hand containing a bottle of wine also.

“What’ve I missed?” James asked, giving the two of you a sweet smile.

“Nothing mate I just got here.”

“I brought wine”

“So did Ed”

“We best get them open then”

“Beat you to it my love.” Your words rolling naturally off your tongue as James too a seat down next to you. You hadn’t anticipated how close all of you would have to squeeze onto your three-seater. Needing some air, you quickly announced. “I made us a board. I’ll go get it,”

“Oh lovely” Ed hummed, rubbing his hands together before reaching for his glass of wine. “I’ll pick a film?”

“Yeah sure”

Making your way into the kitchen you thanked James another time for his gift to share. He took it out of the bag for you. Passing you the bottle carefully your fingers accidentally lapping over his own during the exchange. The static feeling shocked you, but you tried not to let on it affected you at all. James eyes met yours for a split second, wide orbs darting quickly towards your lips before breaking the contact. Via eyes and the bottle. You waddled to the kitchen. Baffled by what had just happened. Hoping to god Ed was too occupied with the TV to notice. You needed to get your shit together, why was this man beginning to have you stop dead in your tracks like that. You’d known him less than a week. And although you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that tonight was going to feel like the longest night of your life.

Panicking over, you made your way back into the room with the board and James wine glass held between you fingers. Not wanting to have another moment of awkwardness you opted to place both of them onto the coffee table, rather than passing it directly to James.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Prince of Egypt”

“Odd choice? Not see that in years”

“Me neither. I loved it when I was a kid”

“Yes, plus, Moses is a hunk” James added sarcastically to the conversation. Making you both smile and shake your heads. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me just…” You stepped over James’s legs between the table. Climbing inside of the duvet between him and Ed. Getting comfortable, you reached over for your glass of wine, which Ed passed you (Notably without sparks or eye contact to have you blushing) and he began to play the film. You relaxed into the back of the sofa taking a sip, running it over your tongue.

The movie played and you all picked at the food you’d made and drank the wine they had bought. At around the halfway mark, James moved his position so that the outside of both your arms were resting against each other. The soft of his jumper’s fabric making you relax into it. Adjusting your hip slightly so that you leant onto him for support. Your actions were subliminal but luckily didn’t offend James as he relaxed into your body too. Only when the film had finished and James had moved to sit on the opposite side of the coffee table, as Ed supposed to play a game, did you notice. Your body missing the warmth that had radiated from his, encouraging you to shiver when he left your side.

“Pudding?” James asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Um, yeah I got,” Oh god. “Ice cream in the freezer”

You’d hoped slightly that he would forget about pudding all together. But you couldn’t exactly convince yourself as you recalled him sloppily describing you how he had a damaging sweet tooth Friday night. He was across from you, directly across from you. And you’d now have to watch him eat Ice cream while the two of you made casual eye contact without getting unbearably hot and bothered.

The two of them left you alone in the room. Ed to dig through your board games for Cluedo, and James to give everyone a helping of dessert. You tried hard not to focus on the torture you were about to endure, that you had caused for yourself no less. It was going to be a very long night indeed. 

#james acaster x reader #james acaster imagines #james acaster fanfic

[natromanxoff]

How prog were Queen?

By Dave Everley

On 9 January, 1971, Kevin Ayers and Genesis played a show together at the Ewell Technical College near Epsom in Surrey. Ayers was 18 months out of Soft Machine, and making a name for himself as a psychedelically-inclined art-folk rake. Genesis had released their second album, Trespass, a few months earlier, and were carving out a place in the vanguard of the burgeoning progressive rock movement.

There was a third band propping up the bill that night, a bunch of transplanted Londoners calling themselves Queen. In contrast to the wilfully artful approach of the headliners, their music was more straightforward: a heavy, if ornate blend of Led Zeppelin’s earthiness and the flights of fancy of Yes.

Not everyone in the small crowd watching them was impressed, but they caught the attention of one person. After the show, Genesis frontman Peter Gabriel pulled Queen’s blond-bombshell drummer Roger Taylor to one side. Gabriel’s band were about to dismiss their own drummer, John Mayhew, and were looking for a replacement. Was Taylor interested in joining Genesis? The reply was instant: thanks but no thanks. Taylor was utterly dedicated to Queen – there were gigs to play, places to go, and many musical adventures to embark on.

Had Taylor accepted the offer, the course of music – and specifically prog – would have been very different. Genesis would have flourished with Gabriel upfront, though whether they would have survived and prospered as they did without a Phil Collins to step into the breach after their talismanic singer’s departure was another matter.

The knock-on effect on Queen would have been greater. Taylor was an essential part of their carefully balanced four-way chemistry; a chemistry that would go on to throw up some of the most ambitious and game-changing music ever recorded. While Queen weren’t a capital ‘P’ prog band, they were infused with the spirit of the movement, combining its forward-looking values with its absolute disregard for the existing rules. Taking their cues from the likes of Yes, Genesis, Van der Graaf Generator and even Pink Floyd, their flamboyantly cavalier approach would go on to inspire such modern masters as Dream Theater, Queensrÿche and Muse. And, in Bohemian Rhapsody, they ensured that one of the biggest-selling singles in history was, at heart, a prog song. Forget the luxuriant moustaches and sawn-off mike-stands that would come to define them: if the prog ethos meant avoiding the expected, then Queen were definitely a prog band.

“Diversity was probably their greatest asset,” says former Dream Theater drummer and confirmed Queen devotee Mike Portnoy. “From song to song, they could be so different. You could have something that was folk followed by something that was rockabilly followed by something that was metal. And that’s one of the biggest things about prog, having that open-mindedness.”

Queen’s schooling in prog came early on. Brian May’s very first band, 1984, played a 4am slot supporting Pink Floyd at the Christmas On Earth Continued all-nighter in 1967. A year later, his next outfit, Smile – also featuring Roger Taylor – played with Floyd again, this time at London’s Imperial College. By the time of their gig opening for Kevin Ayers, Smile had changed their name to Queen and recruited Freddie Mercury. Collectively, they admired Yes, Van der Graaf Generator and especially Genesis. “Foxtrot is a prog rock classic,” Roger Taylor later wrote in the sleevenotes to Genesis box set 1970-1975. “Arrangements were highly complex in these early days, setting a benchmark for the style of the times.”

When it came to finding someone to produce their debut album, Queen’s first choice was John Anthony, who had worked with both Genesis and Van der Graaf. With Anthony and co-producer Roy Thomas Baker behind the desk, the eponymous album trod heavily in Led Zeppelin’s footsteps. But there was another, altogether more visionary band straining to spread their wings: My Fairy King was a filigreed slice of flamboyant rock’n’roll, while Liar metamorphosised through several different time changes and timings.

Those wings were fully unfurled on the follow-up, 1974’s Queen II. The title was the most prosaic thing about the record: the music inside was as fevered and baroque as rock gets, informed equally by Zeppelin, Yes and crazed Victorian artist Richard Dadd, whose 1864 painting The Fairy Feller’s Master-Stroke inspired one of the album’s most prog-leaning tracks. It may have been rooted in the heavy rock of the times, but its cavalier approach and sheer sense of scale pegged Queen as a defiantly progressive proposition.

“Queen weren’t like Yes, who had a dualistic role of guitar and keyboards, where both shared the terrain,” says Yes guitarist Steve Howe, supported by Queen at Kingston Poly in early 1971. “Brian had the terrain to himself. The remarkable thing was that he was the front and the back man. It required him to come up with more than guitar solos… He had to come up with a semi-thematic approach to play the guitar. And what he did was keep colouring.”

Queen’s prog inclinations would be deeply woven into the fabric of their early albums, from the audacious multi-part theatrics of Queen II’s March Of The Black Queen to the schizophrenic attack of the two-part Lap Of The Gods from 1974’s Sheer Heart Attack. Even in their more commercial moments, they marched to the beat of their own drum. What other band would have dared serve up something so unusual as Killer Queen?

“It was their diversity,” says Mike Portnoy, who first heard Queen as an eight-year-old in the mid-70s and covered many Queen songs while in Dream Theater. “Their albums took the prototype that The Beatles laid down with the White Album, where you had four different artists bringing in very different styles. Every song was so diverse. You get to A Night At The Opera, and you had this giant multi-layered epic like Bohemian Rhapsody next to something like Seaside Rendezvous or Love Of My Life.”

A Night At The Opera was Queen’s grand artistic statement and their most unashamedly prog album. Pitched around the epic twin tentpoles of The Prophet’s Song and Bohemian Rhapsody, it married their far-reaching vision to a distinctly British barminess. Taken on its own, the eight-minute The Prophets Song, with its incredible ornate a cappella middle section, would be enough to grant Queen access to the Prog Hall Of Fame. But even that sits in the inescapable shadow of Bohemian Rhapsody. Time and success might have lessened its impact, but that song remains the most dazzlingly unique piece of music ever to sell five million copies.

“There are epic things that come along every so often,” says Steve Howe. “There’s Sgt Pepper, there’s Bridge Over Troubled Water. And there’s Bohemian Rhapsody. I don’t know when I first heard it, but once it was there, it was such a formidable thing. You’re thinking: ‘How many tracks did they need to do those vocals? How did they write it? Who invented it? It really was astounding.”

Bohemian Rhapsody encapsulated one of the key things that gave Queen such a distinct identity. Like The Beatles and Beach Boys before them, they used the studio as an instrument – not least when it came to their vocals. And Bohemian Rhapsody raised the bar about as high as it could go.

“They sang each of those parts and triple-stacked them,” says Mike Portnoy. “You heard all three of their voices singing in all three vocal ranges. That’s what made the depth of their music so complex. It wasn’t the instrumentation, it was the vocals. That’s unusual for prog music. When I think of my favourite prog music, it’s always the musicianship that draws me. But with Queen, it was the vocals. It was so deep.”

For all its success, A Night At The Opera would be Queen’s grand kiss-off to their prog roots. Later albums streamlined their sound into a more conventional format. Much like Genesis, the 80s found them swapping experimentalism for chart rock.

It wasn’t until the end of their career as an active band that Queen would again sound so adventurous. During 1989 and 1990, the band began work on their penultimate album, Innuendo, in London and Montreux. In the summer of 1990, Yes guitarist Steve Howe paid a flying visit to the Swiss city, where a chance encounter with a former guitar tech found him being invited to Queen’s studio to hear the album as a work-in-progress.

“Inside, there’s Freddie, Brian and Roger all sitting together. They go: ‘Let’s play you the album,’” says Howe. “Of course, I’m hearing it for the first time: I Can’t Live Without You, I’m Going Slightly Mad. And they saved Innuendo itself until last. They played it and I was fucking blown away.”

If that was surprising, then what happened next was utterly out-of-the-blue. The members of Queen asked if Howe wanted to play on the title track. The Yes man politely suggested they’d lost their minds. It took the combined weight of Mercury, May and Taylor to persuade him.

“They all chimed in: ‘We want some crazy Spanish guitar flying around over the top. Improvise!’” recalls Howe. “I started noodling around on the guitar, and it was pretty tough. After a couple of hours, I thought: ‘I’ve bitten off more than I can chew here.’ I had to learn a bit of the structure, work out the chordal roots were, where you had to fall if you did a mad run in the distance; you have to know where you’re going. But it got towards evening, and we’d doodled and I’d noodled, and it turned out to be really good fun. We have this beautiful dinner, we go back to the studio and have a listen. And they go: ‘That’s great. That’s what we wanted.”

Released as a single in January 1991, Innuendo gave Queen their third Number One single. Like Bohemian Rhapsody 25 years before it, it was as unlikely as hit singles get: a six-and-a-half minute musical jigsaw, complete with flamenco runs, classically-inclined orchestral overloads and maverick 5/4 timing. Queensrÿche covered the song on 2007’s Take Cover album, while you can hear its echo in Radiohead’s Paranoid Android and Muse’s more elaborate sci-fi epics.

“In the world of rock, Queen stands out as a good example of the clash between guitar and piano in songwriting,” Muse’s Matt Bellamy has said. “I think that’s where you stumble across those more unusual arrangements and chord structures.”

Today, Queen have left a bi-polar legacy. They’re arguably best known for their pop hits – Radio Gaga, I Want To Break Free and of course, Bohemian Rhapsody, that ultimate prog Trojan Horse. But their spirit of adventure remains unmatched by all but the boldest of their peers.

“There was no rulebook for Queen,” says Mike Portnoy. “They broke most of the rules that existed, and then they wrote a new set.”

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon

[mistymark]

VIGILANTE/S VIII

part eight // 4.8k words // superpowered!au // series masterlist

summary; in which you consider yourself somewhat of a vigilante.

warnings; swearing, they talk about death, lots of swearing, y/n plays therapist way too much in this chapter but its fine, swearing

“Do you think we’re going to be able to pull this off?”

You roll over onto your side so you can look in the direction of Donghyuck’s bed. It’s dark, but you can still make out his figure, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Jaehyun has been working at this forever, you know? But what if we can’t pull it off?”

You clear your throat. You’re exhausted – you feel more tired now than you did after a day of training. “It’s going to work,” you say, softly, though it sounds less like you’re trying to convince him and more like you’re trying to convince yourself. You have to believe it will work.

Donghyuck turns his head to you, and you don’t need the light to see how nervous he is.

“I thought we didn’t worry about ‘what if’s,” you whisper, hoping the slight teasing would ease his nerves a little. It was something he’d said to you on one of your first days here.

It seems to work. He lets out a quiet laugh, “I am a ‘what if’. What if I don’t die? What if I never die?” It didn’t work. His tone is bitter, his voice louder. Then, you hear the panic in his voice, “What if I’m forced to live forever and watch everyone I care about die before me?”

There’s silence. You can hear him breathing in deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

Sitting up, you settle on the edge of your bed to face him, “Donghyuck.” He looks up at you, “We’re not going to die.”

“Someday you will.”

You ignore his comment. “Jaehyun wouldn’t let us go through with this plan if he knew we were going to die.” He doesn’t answer. “This is what we’ve been training for,” you say, your voice as soft as you can manage. You’ve watched the team become stronger, become closer, become a family. You doubt there’s anything that could stop you now.

He’s staring at the ceiling again. “You can’t die. None of you can.” His voice is barely a whisper. It’s like he’s breathing the words. The way he pauses between the sentences gives the impression that he’s thinking about you specifically.

“Like you said: I’m going to die sometime, Hyuck,” you smile, and move to his bed, perching on the side. “Dying for you or the team would be the best way to go, I think.”

His eyes snap to yours and he quickly moves to sit up, his hand reaching across the gap between your beds and grabbing your arm, “Promise me that won’t happen. Promise me you won’t die for me.” You can’t see in the darkness of the room, but you’re almost sure he’s holding back tears.

You freeze for a moment, unsure what to do or say. So you whisper, “What is this about?”

Something about what you’ve said makes him remove his hand from your arm, “Sorry. Nothing.” His voice has returned to normal now, and he turns away from you, pulling his blanket up over his shoulder. “Goodnight.”

Maybe you were wrong, maybe you weren’t as close as you’d thought.

Confused by what just happened, you stay for a second, before moving back to your own bed, “Okay.” You want to sleep. You really do. “Goodnight, Donghyuck.” But you don’t.

It must be 4am. It has to have been hours. And you’re still awake.

Arrive with Jaemin. Mingle until the toasts are being made. Make your way to the garage. Leave. Find Jaehyun. Go home. Arrive with Jaemin. Mingle until the-

You can only think about the plan. Each detail was meticulously mapped out. Where you would be standing, what you would be doing, each possible path to the garage engrained in your brain.

West corridor, past the bathrooms. Take a right. Otherwise, go left. Find the central hallway. Go behind the main staircase. If there’s security there, go through the old dining room. From there-

You can’t take it anymore. You gently slide out of your bed, trying not to disturb Donghyuck, who finally fell asleep a couple hours ago. He doesn’t stir, but you still move swiftly across the hard floors, listening for a change in his breathing pattern.

The door squeaks most of the time, but you know how much you can open it without creating noise, so you slip out of the room without waking him.

The warehouse is quiet, but you can see light coming from Mark and Chenle’s room, a flickering orange that makes you think Chenle’s playing with fire. You can hear Mark’s soft snoring even through the door, and wonder if that’s why Chenle’s awake. From what you knew, he was a light sleeper already.

Jeno and Jaemin’s room is dark from what you can see, and you can hear someone snoring from inside. The others are dark, too, even Johnny’s, though you’re forced to wonder whether it’s dark because he’s sleeping or dark because he’s just not there.

Doyoung’s light is on, a warm yellow colour streaming out from under the door and into the hallway, and despite no lights being turned on in his room, there’s white light coming from Renjun’s room, probably from a computer screen. There was always light in Renjun’s room, and you knew he often slept without turning off the screens that took up most of his room. When you’d first noticed them – before you even met him – you’d wondered if he was afraid of the dark.

You’re thankful for the lights, able to make your way down the hallway without knocking into something, but you’re surprised to find there is no light coming from Jaehyun’s office when you make it to the main body of the warehouse.

You know he has to sleep sometime but your first thought is that he’s out.

“What are you doing?” You jump at the sound of the voice, and find yourself whirring around to find the source. Doyoung makes his way toward you, “I could hear you thinking.” He puts his hands up in defence when you open your mouth to protest, “I know, I promised not to invade, but I wasn’t prying. You were just thinking really loudly.”

“Why are you even awake?” You don’t mean to sound so exasperated, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Same reason you are,” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his pyjama pants, which you can see are made from bright blue flannel. It was odd, to see him wearing something typically childish. “Thinking about the ball.”

“Donghyuck was freaking out about it before… I think it rubbed off on me.”

A grim look passes over his face, “About dying, right?”

“About the team dying, yeah.” You frown, “How do you know that?” Surely, he hasn’t been listening the whole night.

“I wasn’t listening. I just know Donghyuck – it’s the only thing that does freak him out.” He pauses, then shrugs, “Other than lizards.” He frowns, “And birds, actually.” He shakes his head as if to force himself to stop thinking about Donghyuck’s phobias.

You smile, “I was going to make some tea. Do you-?”

“No, thank you. I just came to see if you were alright.” It’s only then that you can see just how tired he looks. Your eyes have adjusted to the lack of light in the room, and even in the dark you can see the deep-set circles under his eyes.

Nodding, you rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He nods and turns to head back to his room, which you can see is spilling light into the hallway through the open door. Bruce is standing at attention in the doorway, staring into the empty room with unwavering focus. You let your gaze drift back to Doyoung, who is looking at you again with a furrowed brow, though your mind is still on the dog for some reason.

He opens his mouth to say something but doesn’t, and turns around, his figure retreating into the brightly lit hallway.

The door closes softly, and you watch as the light under the door disappears, the hallway now dark again. You’re debating whether it was still worth getting some tea before going back to your room, but you make your way to the kitchen, anyway. Even if you didn’t make tea, you could always steal one of Jaemin’s snacks.

There’s a pot of tea already on the counter, though you assume it’s old because it’s cold now. It’s the early hours of the morning, and you brain is repeating, I’m tired, I’m lazy, this will do over and over again.

You reach for a mug, despite the liquid no longer requiring its insulating properties, and pour the cold tea into it. You notice Jaehyun’s ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ mug is missing from the shelf, and you’re sure if you looked into his office, you’d see it on his desk.

Taking a sip, you almost spit it out from how bitter it is, how terrible the tea is. You’ve never known tea to taste like that. Maybe because it was cold. You tip the drink down the sink and leave your mug in the sink. Someone probably forgot to empty the pot before they went to bed, you assume.

Grabbing the pot, you pour the foul liquid – because there was no way that was fresh tea – down the sink. With a bad taste in your mouth, you pull the fridge door open and scan the shelves for anything good. There’s a fruit yoghurt cup left – Mark’s favourite flavour – and you almost feel bad about taking the last one, until you remember they’re Jaemin’s.

Peeling the lid off, you settle on the counter, digging through the clean cutlery for a spoon.

“You’re awake.”

You jump a little at the sound. “God, doesn’t anyone here sleep?” You groan and look in the direction of the voice, recognising Jaehyun’s suit-clad figure standing by the dinner table. You’re annoyed that he managed to frighten you, but he only smiles at you.

“Too much to do,” his voice is deeper than normal, and you wonder if he’s tired.

Spooning another mouthful of yoghurt into your mouth, you squint at him, “This is going to work, isn’t it?” He nods, but there’s uncertainty in the way he holds himself. His eyes don’t meet yours. “Jaehyun.”

He looks at you, and the determination in his eyes surprises you, “If everything goes to plan, then it’ll definitely work.” He sighs, and his gaze falls, “I could see it. I could see it working perfectly.”

“But?” You prompt.

“But…” he trails off. Then his eyes meet yours, and he subconsciously adjusts his stance. “I always feel terrible when I endanger them.”

You know that’s not what worries him, but you don’t push it. Clearly, everyone around here has their secrets, and you’re not about to be the one to pry. You let your hand fall to his forearm, and his eyes widen at the contact, though he does his best to appear indifferent, “You’re a good leader, Jaehyun. And I trust you. They trust you.”

He sucks in a breath, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not sad or emotional in any way, but you can’t look away from his face. He needs to see your sincerity, even if he thinks he doesn’t need it.

But he doesn’t look away from you, either.

Until he does. “Tea,” he says, turning to look away from you. He clears his throat, and his voice changes, though you can’t exactly describe how. “Is there any tea left?”

“Uh, no,” your voice sounds small, so unlike your natural voice. It makes him look back at you for a moment, before going back to trying to find the teapot. “It was cold – and disgusting – so I poured it out. I was just about to make a fresh pot.”

“You poured out the tea?”

You pause. “Yeah. I just said-”

He sighs, and you can almost see him physically deflate, “It’s supposed to taste terrible. It’s not normal tea. An elixir, if anything, to help with-” He stops. “Doesn’t matter.”

Suddenly, you feel awful. “I’m sorry.” And for the first time since you’ve arrived here, you truly mean it.

“It’s alright. You should get some rest.” No ‘goodnight’, no ‘goodbye’, just ‘you should get some rest’ and the same distracted look on his face you usually see at this hour.

“Careful, there. I might actually think you care about me,” you say lightly, a snort accompanying your words. Gracefully, you manage to slide off the counter and toss your empty yoghurt cup into the bin at the kitchen’s entrance, dodging him as you pass him.

He doesn’t acknowledge your comment, but he does turn around to see you walking toward the hallway. He doesn’t raise his voice, instead lowering it, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You turn and give him a small nod, your words coming out short, “Night. Jaehyun.”

“Is anyone else bored?” Donghyuck asks for the fifteenth time today, and you roll your eyes, ignoring him. You’re all crowded into one of the few casual living spaces in the warehouse, a room with a bunch of cool leather couches and bookshelves. You’d never been down here, never even knew the basement had a living room, but from the look of it, you decided it was rarely used.

It was much unlike Jaehyun’s sitting room, which you’d decided was your favourite room in the whole place. It had so much warmth in it, especially compared to the sitting room you were in now. The couches here were red and white, unmatching, but tied together nicely with the cool white walls and a singular red wall painting that you felt you’d seen before. The plush carpet beneath your feet was the only thing that added warmth to the room, but it was split along the diagonal by an invisible line, separating a bleached white section and a firetruck red section. With each half of the carpet situated under the couch of the opposite colour, you wondered if Jaehyun had paid someone to fit out the room or he’d done it himself. Quite the interior designer.

You felt a little bad for brushing Donghyuck and his boredom off, until you noticed the responses from the other boys around you. You’re sitting on the floor in front of the red couch, the plush white carpet beneath you far more inviting than the new leather. Jaemin is sitting on the flat arm rest behind you, and Jeno’s in a small white armchair nearby, the two talking animatedly. Donghyuck is lounging on the white couch, despite Renjun claiming he’d make it dirty – which immediately prompted Donghyuck’s response of ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ followed by a terrible wink. Renjun sits on the floor beside you, earphones in, watching something on his phone, and Chenle on the couch at the opposite end, glaring at Donghyuck. You’re beginning to wonder if his face just naturally looks pissed off.

Donghyuck shrieks as the corner of his t-shirt alights and frantically tries to put it out, patting at his shirt. Each time his hand comes down on the flame, it moves to a different location. Chenle raises an eyebrow, “Are you bored now?”

Donghyuck gives him a level look, “You’re dead.”

This seems to bring Chenle a lot of joy, “I thought that was your thing.” You ignore them as soon as Donghyuck lunges at the younger boy, instead tuning into Jeno and Jaemin’s conversation.

“- give him? What can we offer that he doesn’t already have?” Jaemin is saying. Then he adds, “Prick.”

You look up and pat his leg to get his attention, “Who are you talking about?”

He looks down at you, and the look of annoyance on his face eases a little as he explains. “The guy Jaehyun’s meeting up with today,” he says, but halfway through the sentence, his attention is already back on Jeno. You’ve never seen him look so annoyed – not at Chenle, not during a team meeting, never. You’re about to ask what this guy had done to earn such a response, but before you can, Jeno gestures to the door and they both stand up to leave.

Renjun tugs out his earphones when he watches them leave, “Where’d they head off to?”

“I don’t know,” you frown, but then you catch sight of his phone. “What are you watching?”

Renjun’s face immediately lights up as he excitedly fills you in on the Super fight semifinals. “There’s a newcomer this year – some young kid, eighteen maybe? – doesn’t even belong to a club, yet.” You cringe when he says ‘club’, knowing full well that these sport ‘clubs’ were just fronts for small gangs. “He just walked in and put his name on the roster! Can you believe that?”

You try to match his excitement, try to look impressed, “Damn, what does he do?”

“He can summon lightning. And manipulate it.” Renjun suddenly looks so young – so innocent and eager. You knew he’d never been on assignment, stayed in the warehouse almost always and had probably never even step foot in a place like The Den. He’d seen so much yet so little while working here.

Whilst Renjun grins happily at the screen, offering you an earbud so you could watch, too, you feel a shiver run down your back. Lightning. Now there’s a man you remember. He’d seemed so much older when you’d first met him, despite being drunk off his ass. Eighteen. And it wouldn’t be long before he was recruited, enticed by the sheer amounts of money the ‘clubs’ could offer him.

“He’s about to come out, hold on… There!” Renjun points at a figure emerging from a crowd, dressed in the standard durable yet decorated combo all the fighters wore. His was white, with streaks of jagged purple lines running down the sides of his top to mimic the lightning.

Immediately, you recognise his face, but you keep your expression neutral, interested. Definitely the guy from The Den. A sudden thought crosses your mind, and you fight the urge to throw up. He’d probably just won a fight when we met. Probably his first one, too.

This guy didn’t help your preconceived belief that all fighters were assholes.

You watched as the camera panned to his opponent, a small woman in her mid twenties, you’d say. She was tiny, made apparent when she moved to stand beside the boy, their hands interlocking, raising and lowering in an extravagant bow. As if this was all a show. He had to have been at least six feet tall, and she stood with her head level to his lower chest.

But you knew better than to underestimate her, because despite her size – and her ridiculously long fake nails – she had made it this far. People often made the same mistake with you.

People like her opponent, who merely smiled at her smugly as soon as they stepped away from each other in the ring. This may be a fight you actually wanted to watch.

“Watch,” Renjun whispers to you, as the protective glass walls surrounding the ring begin to rise. There’s a countdown, and you watch the two fighters ready themselves. It appears they both have the same tactic – appear casual and indifferent to unnerve the other. You watch as the woman focuses on her nails, uninterested, and the boy stands with a lop-sided smirk on his face, one hand already raised, ready to summon coils of lightning as soon as the countdown reaches zero.

In the audience, people are chanting, excitedly waiting for the fight to begin.

“What’s her ability?” You ask. But he doesn’t have time to answer, because the speaker lets out an unnerving beep, and both fighters begin to move. As soon as the sound rings out, where there was once a woman, there is now a robot – or what looks to be a robot. But then it moves. It moves in a way that no robot, no matter how dynamic, would be able to move. “She can make herself metal?”

Renjun laughs at your bewilderment, “You’ve never heard of Titan?”

“She calls herself Titan?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “They all have fighter names. He’s Thunder. Uh, Impact was on before. She’s pretty epic. She fought Migraine.” He realises you have no clue who he’s talking about. “Impact has these really strong forcefield things. Migraine… well, he’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“You know what?” Donghyuck pipes up from the couch. You notice Chenle has disappeared, having previously been too absorbed in the fight to notice him leave. Donghyuck is laying with his head dangling off the couch and his legs over the couch’s back. Renjun doesn’t respond. Dismissing the fact that no one responded to his question, Donghyuck continues, “We should have fight names.” He swings his legs down so he can sit up, “I can’t believe we’ve never thought of that.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you be called?” You ask.

“I don’t know…” he thinks about it for a second before bellowing in deep voice, “ETERNAL!”

“Eternal pain in my ass,” Renjun mumbles to you, a smile crossing his face when you laugh. The fight is already over when you look back down at the phone. The lightning boy, unconscious, lays on the floor, whereas the woman, now back in her normal body, holds her hands over her head triumphantly. You can hear the loud eruptions of applause even after Renjun turns down the volume.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks confusedly between the two of you.

“Renjun could be Spiritwalker,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. He makes a disgusted expression, but when Donghyuck continues talking, you can tell he’s thinking about it.

“You could be… Mime?”

“Or,” a new voice offers from behind you. “Y/n could be Mine.” He says it in a teasing way – he knows it’ll make you squirm in disgust.

You instantly roll your eyes at Jaemin as soon as he meets your eyes, lowering into the small armchair Jeno was previously sitting in. He lets out a loud laugh. “That was a cheap shot,” you drawl.

And he shrugs, but he can’t help the smile that’s crossed his face at your judgment of his terrible flirting. “What can I say? I’m a dedicated guy. I take every opportunity to-,” but he’s cut off.

“Oh! I know!” You exclaim to Donghyuck in a fake perky voice, clapping your hands together excitedly, “Jaemin can be Douchebag!” You turn to him and the faux smile you’d been donning a second earlier drops from your face as you look at Jaemin pointedly.

One side of his mouth lifts into a half-smile and lets out a fake laugh, glaring at you in an exaggerated manner that says he’s not the least bit bothered by your joke.

“There are too many good names for someone with superspeed. It’s unfair,” Donghyuck notes.

“Like?” Jaemin looks to him, intrigued.

“Dick, trashbag, assface, asshole. If we’re getting creative, cockalorum, ninnyhammer-” You begin counting off the insults on your fingers. Renjun lets out a loud laugh and falls to his side on the floor, and Donghyuck erupts into laughter after him.

Jaemin rolls his eyes but his smile is genuine, laughing along with the others.

“What even is a cockalorum?” Donghyuck asks, though this only makes Renjun laugh again, and he never gets an answer.

That night, you manage to sleep soundly for the first time in a few days, though you don’t know how you’re so exhausted. Dinner had been a riot – Doyoung suggested that Donghyuck cook if he was so bored, and Jaemin ended up getting roped into helping him. You’d wondered if Doyoung’s ‘suggestion’ had been laced with any of his power, urging them slightly to agree.

Jaemin had prepared everything faster than it should’ve been possible, then got annoyed with how slow the actual cooking part was. He ended up lying across the kitchen counter in duress, reducing Donghyuck’s cooking space to a tiny bench beside the stove. Everyone ate together and pretended it was the worst thing they’d ever tasted, making Donghyuck pout throughout most of dinner. But everyone made sure to thank him when they had finished, which you’d thought was very sweet. It had tasted pretty good, though, you had to admit.

In the morning, everyone’s mood seems to have shifted. You couldn’t pin it at first, especially since the morning started the same way it usually does; with you having to wake up a complaining Donghyuck.

It was at breakfast that you’d noticed something was up. Jaemin was wearing an usually sour expression on his face, and even Chenle didn’t comment on it. There was none of the expected fire at the table. Renjun, who normally didn’t wake up until everyone had already eaten, was already sitting at the table when you arrived. Jeno wasn’t there, and neither was Johnny, and you wondered where they’d gone. Jaehyun wasn’t in his office, and emerged from the basement stairs as you sat down, stealing a piece of toast from the table with a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“What is-?” You turn to Mark, and notice that even he seems glum. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm?” Jaemin responds, though his attention is still on his uneaten breakfast. He’s holding a piece of toast in his hand, and it looks as though he’s been nibbling on one corner for the past fifteen minutes.

“Everyone’s so…” you shrug, “gloomy.” Except for Chenle, you want to add. He’s exactly the same. But you don’t. Because you know it’s not true.

“Yeah, well,” Renjun snorts. “That happens when you’re about to risk your life tomorrow.”

Jaemin casts him a sidelong glance and then stands, the sheer speed of his movement causing his chair to topple over loudly. He doesn’t bother to pick it up, or maybe he doesn’t notice what he’s done, but he walks back down the hallway. You hear a door slam and there’s a pause as everyone stops eating for a second, all glancing between each other. Renjun gulps, looking guilty.

Chenle’s the first to continue eating, and everyone follows. You grab a piece of fruit from a plate and stand, “Should I-?”

“God, yes,” Donghyuck responds, immediately. “I don’t want to deal with that.” There’s a few mumbles of agreement and you nod, taking a bite of the fruit as you walk down the hall.

You bump into Doyoung as he’s emerging from the bathroom, his hair wet. The dark circles beneath his eyes haven’t disappeared yet, and you can’t help yourself from noticing how different he looks with the small blemishes. His normally perfect skin looks harrowed and thin now, the dark circles a deep contrast to his light skin.

“Geez, I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he tries to laugh, but it sounds empty.

Your eyebrows raise as you realise he can tell what you’re thinking, “Sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

This makes him smile, and this time its sincere. “Don’t be. Once this is all over,” he gestures around him, “I’ll be fine.”

You nod. But then you remember why you came down here in the first place, “Is Jaemin okay?”

Doyoung stops for a moment, sucking in a breath, “No.” You don’t know why you expected to hear something different. You’d hoped to hear something different. “Wait a second.” You stop from where you’d been reaching for the handle that led to his room. There’s a thump against the door and the sound of something smashing on the floor. “Now, go.”

You nod to him in appreciation before twisting the handle, poking your head in the room. “Jaemin?”

He’s sitting on the floor by Jeno’s bed, his head on his knees. He looks up when you walk in, but his head hangs again. You can’t tell whether he’s angry or sad or a combination of both, but you could see the pained expression on his face as soon as you walked inside. “What h-?” You stop and sit down beside him. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer. You notice him fidgeting, as if he’s got too much energy he needs to get rid of, “Jaemin.”

There’s silence, until, “Can you go?” You recoil from him like you’ve just been burned, and you suddenly hate yourself for it. “Please.” You nod, then mumble a ‘okay’ as you stand up. The door closes noiselessly as you leave, and you let out a breath. Renjun is the one that runs up to you, the one that explains what’s going on. His voice sounds slightly strangled, but he rushes the words out in a long string in a way that tells you he had just been given this information, “Jaehyun’s contact won’t trade his services for money. He wants Jeno. He has Jeno.”

And suddenly you have the urge to throw something at a door, too.

#nct au #nct dream au #nct angst #nct fluff #nct suggestive #nct headcanon #nct superhero au #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct antihero au #nct dream superhero au #nct dream jeno #nct jaehyun #nct series #nct writing #nct doyoung #nct johnny #nct mark #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct donghyuck

[arandompostarchive]

Inure Ch. 4

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

“I don’t see what the problem is!”

You scoffed, angry at Howard’s words. “Really. You really don’t see the issue?” He shrugged but stayed silent. “You invited a horde of reporters when I said that no one else should see this. That doesn’t seem like a problem to you?” Despite the anger you were feeling, you looked fairly calm.

You weren’t the type to lash out and scream whenever something went wrong and even in the toughest situations you were collected. It’s a trait that would stick with you for decades to come.

“We need people to know about this. They need to know that there’s hope at the end of this tunnel, okay? We’re doing miraculous things, excuse me if I’d like to show the world.”

You rolled your eyes at his excuse. “Oh please, Stark. You just want an early payday. Not everything can be about your bank account. Especially in the middle of a war! People are dying Howard. We don’t need a media storm to distract us.” He huffed and sat down on one of the many stools you had around your lab. It wasn’t the fanciest place, but the army needed all the weaponry it could get and when they heard about you, they didn’t hesitate to give you a lab. Of course, your skills were always in question, as with most women, but for the most part, they left you alone. You had Peggy to thank for that.

“Look, let’s just give them a quick tour, tell them about SPECTR, and turn it on for a minute. 60 seconds, that’s all I ask.”

“Absolutely not.” You weren’t budging on this. Usually Stark was able to get you to agree to his stupid plans, but you had friends fighting in this war. Peggy had friends fighting this war. You weren’t going to see them dead just because you got distracted by cameras.

For a genius, Howard was probably one of the stupidest people you had ever met. Of course, he could invent beautiful things, but then he’d go and do something like this. Inviting reporters to see a project that was far from done. This wouldn’t give people hope.

“40 seconds, c’mon Doc. On and off, just so they know it works.”

“But it doesn’t work!”

“Well that’s why I’m saying 40 seconds!” He sighed, taking in a deep breath. “I understand, but don’t you think that’s a little unfair to me? C’mon Doc!”

You groaned, not dignifying him with an answer. You walked over to your machine, choosing to work more on the control panel outside the glass. The door to the machine was locked tight, keeping everyone out. It could be opened from the inside, but opening it from the outside took a specific keycard. As of now, there were four of them. Yours, Howard’s, Peggy’s, and an extra for high-ranking guests that entered your lab.

The control panel was still malfunctioning. It was the main reason you were saying no to Howard. You couldn’t risk something going wrong.

“You’ve gone over that panel 50 times.”

“If we want to help people, we have to be sure it won’t hurt them.” You said, looking at the buttons and making sure they worked. “Check the air compressors, okay? That machine gets too hot, I need to make sure those work. If it overheats, it’ll do the exact opposite of what we want.”

You could hear Howard mumble under his breath about how he was ‘certain that they worked’, but you ignored it and went back to your work.

You heard his voice shout at you from across the room.

“L/n?”

You didn’t respond, too focused on one of the buttons that wasn’t responding properly. It was the one meant to open the door with a small key card like invention. You took yours out and tested it a few times. It wasn’t responding correctly. You rolled your eyes and took out a few tools to fix it.

“L/n. Hey, Doc?”

You still didn’t respond, too focused on the task at hand.

***

“Doc? You good there?” You looked up, Tony’s face staring back at you.

You blinked a few times before coldly responding. “I’m fine.” You took another second before looking around. The lab’s lights were dimmed, which wasn’t surprising considering that it was about 4am.

“Alright then. As I was saying, this is definitely Hastings’ blood. I’ve ran it through every test I’ve got, every single match was positive.”

“He’s dead. Believe me, he’s dead. I always double check. A while ago I ran into someone who could regenerate. Had to kill him twice. Now, I just make sure I get it the first time.”

“Listen, I’m not doubting you, but are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes at him. He was so like Howard it bothered you. Even down to his nickname for you. “Doc”. “Well, that sounds exactly like you’re doubting me.”

“Okay, I’m doubting you,” he admitted. “But this is a perfect match. If this guy has been dead for years, I don’t think I need to explain why he couldn’t have robbed a museum.”

“Well, obviously.”

You looked over the matches again. Each result was perfect or near perfect. Not that you had much blood to test, but it was enough.

“Wanda might be right with her shapeshifter theory.” You heard from across the room. Bruce had joined you in the lab, though he was more interested in you for the time being. He had agreed to help find Hastings or his copycat and you agreed to let him research you. He was studying something under a microscope. You weren’t sure what he was looking at, but it seemed like he was comparing two samples.

“We have blood and it’s completely separate from the body. Can he really shift down to the molecular level and keep it that way after it’s away from his body?” You asked, not entirely sure. The scientist in you said it was impossible, but a few years ago New York got attacked by an alien race led by a Norse god, so you had really changed your definition of the word “impossible”.

“Maybe once it leaves the body, it retains its last form. If anything, it would make sense that the blood doesn’t have the ability to shift back when it’s away from its host.”

“Well, that’s one theory,” Tony said, thinking it over.

Of course, that wasn’t helpful at all. “So, our culprit is most likely a shapeshifter. How do we proceed?”

Tony and Bruce thought it over. “I’ll go inform everyone, they might have some ideas. Maybe you can find some way to make him revert back to his original form.” Bruce said, slowly walking toward the lab’s exit. You and Tony nodded and started looking over the limited information you had.

It was silent for a minute or two, the both of you working quietly on something. You were looking into a microscope, trying your best to compare it to a normal human sample. So far, nothing noteworthy. “Hey, Doc, when you built this thing, did you know it could turn into a giant weapon, or was that just an oversight.” You couldn’t entirely tell if Tony was joking. It seemed like something he’d want you to laugh at, but you still weren’t sure.

“Just work, Tony. If you find something, then talk to me. Otherwise I’d appreciate quiet.” You said harshly. It sounded meaner than you thought it would, but Tony was a Stark. You doubted he had any feelings anyway.

“Okay, let me ask you a question.” He said, slightly agitated by your response.

You sighed, “I have a feeling you’ll find a way to ask me whether I say yes or no.” You didn’t look up from the microscope, knowing Tony probably wouldn’t care.

“Why exactly do you hate me?” He asked. The question was sincere, but the tone of his voice made it sound sarcastic.

“What makes you assume I hate you?” Of course, you really did hate him. But you hadn’t murdered him yet, so you were doing better than you thought you would.

“Well, we haven��t exactly been best friends.” He says, looking at you. You had only looked away from your microscope to check some of the information you had gathered about Hastings. Nothing useful.

“Perhaps that’s because there’s a shapeshifter trying to murder people with a makeshift weapon that I invented.” Your voice stayed fairly monotone. You were only half paying attention to what Stark said.

“Well, yes. But you’ve been tolerating the company of most people here. Just thought maybe I did something. Which, hey, I’m not perfect.”

You nodded. “Yes, Stark. You are far from perfect.” You still didn’t look up to meet his gaze.

“See! This is what I mean.” He didn’t sound rude, which is what you were expecting. Instead he seemed to want an answer. Admittedly, this wasn’t the outcome you were looking for.

“Well, Stark. Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are, hm?” You said, glancing up for only a moment before looking back down. “I’ve seen your press conferences. That outrageous confidence. I’ve seen you flying around, thinking you’re this world’s savior. You treat everything like a joke. There always has to be a punchline with you, something sarcastic. Talking to people like you’re some kind of god.”

He sighed, taking a moment to think of something to say. “Well, you may have seen me on TV, but you haven’t gotten a chance to actually know me. I mean, yeah, I’ll give you the sarcasm one you’re pretty spot on, but I’m hardly as confident as I look in front of those people.”

“I’ve seen you from afar. That’s good enough.” You said simply, trying to get him to be quiet so you can go back to working in silence.

“So you’re not going to try to have a real conversation with me? Who knows, you might hate me slightly less.” This time you didn’t respond, hoping he realized this conversation was going nowhere.

He reminded you of Howard more than you’d like to admit. But he certainly had his differences. “You’re an idiotic genius who thinks he’s a god on Earth. I’ve seen you Stark. What you do, who you are. I know everything I need to.”

He seemed upset, almost offended. “I understand, but don’t you think that’s a little unfair to me? C’mon Doc!”

That made you stop. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You weren’t sure what emotion you were feeling. It certainly wasn’t sadness, but it wasn’t quite anger either. More like an upsetting mix of several emotions, all making each other worse.

Then you laughed. It was a humorous laugh, but an empty one.

“You sound just like him.” Now you were actually looking at Tony, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes.

“Uh… who?” Stark said, looking fairly confused. He was probably somewhat creeped out by you staring at him, but you didn’t really care.

“Howard. He said that to me once.” You had abandoned your work, now more focused on the man in front of you.

“Right. I forgot you and Capsicle lived in the 40s.” You could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Not that you blamed him.

“You’re very alike you know. Dumb. But the stuff you build makes it seem like you’ve got a real brain in your head.”

“…thank you?” He said, thinking over your words.

“You’re also both arrogant assholes.” You said, not really considering his feelings. In your experience, feelings were too bothersome. Sometimes, you’d get attached to people you had to kill. That was never helpful.

“Hey, I thought you 40s people were supposed to be polite and stuff.” You only shrugged in response.

“Howard was awful. The bane of my very existence. I thought we were friends, but I was extremely wrong.” You looked straight at Tony, your eyes darkening as they stared into his. “If I give you a chance, Tony. If I get to know you and make a real attempt to become your ‘friend’, then you will do the same. You are a Stark, after all.” You said, stating the reason for your decision.

Tony got more serious too. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever he did. Clearly, he, uh, did something pretty bad. I don’t blame you. But whatever it was, I didn’t do it. I never asked for him to be my father. Don’t group us together.” You could tell you had struck a bit of a nerve. You doubted anyone could hate Howard Stark as much as you, but you were starting to hate his son a little bit less.

***

“You seem tired.” Bucky noted from the kitchen. He was reaching up to grab some chips while you stood across the room. It was midday, so almost everyone had something to do, leaving the two of you alone.

You had a proper sized glass of whiskey in your hands, much different from your usual full glass.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

He seemed a bit worried, “Not in a mean way, you just seem, I don’t know, less energetic?”

He was right. Since you had moved in to a strange place with people you didn’t know, it had gotten harder to sleep. You decided to let yourself adjust. These were heroes, they weren’t going to murder you in cold blood.

And then you remembered that you’re a wanted serial killer, which put you even more on edge. Of course, without you they wouldn’t have as much information about SPECTR, but that didn’t help ease your worries.

Instead, you had spent a good amount of your time in the gym. It had been a while since you’d had a place to work out alone. While you were enjoying the alone time, the lack of sleep was starting to get to you.

“Yeah, I don’t feel too energetic. Just a bit sleepy I guess.” You told Bucky, choosing not to discuss your sleep issues.

“Fair enough.” He said, putting a few chips in his mouth and biting down. The crunch filled the empty silence and you chose to walk toward the living room area. As expected, Bucky silently followed you and you turned on some older movies. Though Tony had a limited number of 1940’s movies, modern movies and TV shows weren’t all that bad. When you were a child, the special effects would’ve entranced you. Now, you let Bucky choose which movies to watch. He seemed to understand that superheroes and serial killers didn’t really like action movies. You saw enough of that in real life, though there were a few interesting ones out there.

As you sat with Bucky watching some feel-good movie, your mind drifted a bit. You found yourself wondering what Loki would’ve thought. The thought was fleeting at first, but the more you considered it, the weirder you felt. It had been decades since you’d had a real friend, much less two. Besides, it didn’t hurt that two literal superheroes wanted to spend time with you.

You found yourself moving closer to Bucky, letting your head fall on his shoulder. Truthfully, you didn’t think much of it. You felt like putting your head down and Bucky happened to be there. The action was simple.

Your eyes fluttered closed barely 20 minutes in and Bucky noticed how your breathing had evened out. He smiled softly to himself and turned down the volume so it wouldn’t wake you up.

***

“So, we have no idea who they are or where they’re going next. Any thoughts?” Steve asked the group. They all looked at each other, hoping someone would speak.

You glanced across at Bucky who seemed to be staring at everyone but you. He never looked in your direction during meetings. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, but a small part of you was disappointed.

“If we ran into him, Wanda could scan his head, right? Like, tell us who he is?” Clint asked. The question wasn’t really directed at anybody, but Wanda was the one who answered.

“Sort of,” she began. “It is more like sensing someone. Not exactly mind reading. And if I don’t know the person I’m looking for, it’s not very helpful.” She said, slightly disappointed. Mind reading. Now there’s something you could do.

You were going to speak, but Loki beat you to it. “Mind-reading is a magical art, though it is one I have never trained in. I don’t have a proper teacher, so I doubt it will be adequate, but I could try to find some books on it.” He suggested.

Steve nodded and you spoke up before anyone could say anything else. “Actually, I can read minds. I don’t use it often, but it’s not difficult for me.” The group had mixed reactions. Some seemed glad they had someone in the group who could help, but others seemed more wary of you now.

“You may be a good teacher then. This may be easier than I thought.” Loki said, smiling at you. You smiled back at him. You inwardly questioned why you automatically smiled, it wasn’t something you found yourself doing often. In an odd way, you liked it. Loki seemed to have that sort of calming air about him, despite what the media may say about him.

“Okay, so we have one mind-reader and two sorta mind-readers. How does that help us find him?” Tony questioned.

“Maybe we set a trap.” Natasha suggested. She shifted her vision to you, “Spectr, did you have any other parts that can’t be replicated?”

You thought over everything you made. You shook your head. “Everything else can be replicated with a little bit of time and effort.” You said, not thinking of everything.

“But they don’t have time. We’re coming after them, they must know that. So, if you were building the machine again today, what would take the most time.” She said, still looking at you. The rest of the group was also looking. It was beginning to make you a bit self-conscious.

“Our core was a complicated thing. To be honest, we didn’t even know what it was. Now that I’m here, 70 years later, it was probably something magical. But then we had no idea. The container I made for it took me longer than I’d like to admit. With the modern tools I’ve seen, I’m sure it would take less time, but I know it wouldn’t be quick without blueprints. I had to test it over and over before I finally got something. And building it took forever.”

Natasha nodded. “So, we start there. Where would that core be?” She asked, still looking at you.

“I have no idea. I never bothered to do research on where it went or if it survived.” She then glanced at Steve who was already looking at a screen in front of him.

“Steve and I found a list of World War II machinery that might be yours.” Natasha explained. You stood up, standing by Steve and looking at the pictures.

You didn’t spot anything that resembled your core at all. You sat back down, unsure how to continue.

Natasha was thinking too. Then, Wanda spoke. “Well, if he can’t find the real machine, then he’d want blueprints, right?” The group nodded. “So, where would he get those?”

You had limited tangible blueprints. Though every other inventor in the world would scold you, you liked to sit down and tinker. Sometimes, you made something odd and useless. Other times, you made things like a core stabilizer.

“From the file I got, he already has most of the blueprints that exist. Everything else is my head. No tangible papers.”

Wanda’s eyes darkened. “So, he’ll be coming for you.”

***

#loki x reader #loki #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #loki x reader x bucky #inure #saved work #fanfic

[lavendersage]

i saw that post from the girl who's girlfriend isn't quite ready to be out. if ur blog didnt seem to celebrate love of all kinds (and i'm not talking straight vs gay, i'm talking happy vs sad) i would have kept this to myself, but between ur response and the op's story itself, i think im going to take this chance of sharing a burden on my heart, maybe to help someone else, or just for the shot at becoming at peace with it. a couple weeks ago, when u asked for everyone to send u stories of their lovers, i wrote most of this out but didnt send it.

i (21F) am a college student (god, is this reddit?). my entire life, i have cultivated the cleanest good girl image that i could. my parents sacrificed so much for my sister and i to grow up far more comfortable then they did, so i have tried to honor them with a little golden child they could brag about. straight As, never missed school, did community service, perfect SATs. i worked tirelessly to be on-paper perfect.

one of the reasons i've worked so hard to earn Good Noodle Stars is to make up for the fact that i am terminally homosexual. i realized real early that i could literally cure cancer and the first comment on the news video will be, "okay, she cured cancer, but at least I'm not gay like she is." i could raise thousands for charity, and my aunts would still say, "our kids may not get off the couch but at least they have sex correctly." so they dont know. few people do, none outside my closest circle.

in walks Mars(21NB). Mars is an anachronism. they are both a romantic with and without a capital R. be still my Dark Academia heart.

we got very close before school broke for Covid. Mars wrote me a letter every other week, encrypted and folded so that the only way to open them was to rip a paper seam that would show if someone had tampered with it. it was intoxicating. it was the first time i felt able to communicate freely about anything. i dont know - i didnt hold back my emotions, emboldened by writing in cipher. i spent all summer waiting for those red sealed envelopes, filled with stories and poetry and honeyed nonsense, and i refused to not respond with mirrored passion.

it was all great until it set in that I was going to have to face Mars again, in person. i prayed our school would decide all students had to stay remote. of course I wanted to see Mars, i want to do much more than just see them, but i knew it would only be a matter of time between us being reunited and them asking me out.

this was a person who crafted a puzzle where the answers were flowers that were a declaration of fidelity in Victorian Flower Language. of course i ate that up with a spoon. u would have too. listen, i know all aesthetics are fads and all fads age badly, but if the cottagecore girls get to learn to sew and bake and grow, i owe dark academia for teaching me the vocabulary and actions of my most treasured relationship yet, and giving me permission to be earnest and vulnerable in this life for 10 goddamn minutes. Mars is handsome and a genius and i was not used to feeling connected to anyone. but for all that joy, i was also drowning with the thought of having to break their heart by explaining i cant date anyone AFAB.

so the semester starts. Mars asks me over for a homecooked meal since restaurants don't exist here at the end of the world. they made me a beautiful dinner with all my dietary needs in mind. just like everything else i ate it up. and i made no effort to stop them from inviting me over for food and conversation again and again and a fourth time just to make sure it really hurt.

they kissed me after the last dinner. and I kissed them back, before stopping. they apologized for moving too quickly, but i explained that they had moved at the perfect pace, just with the wrong person.

there is no nice ending to this. it's real life. Mars took it as a breakup and didnt reach out to me again. i sobbed from halloween to christmas, i swear. i'm the villain in this story.

i started this post off as a sign of solidarity to the other young lady, but now im realizing that this letter would be better read by her fearful beloved, not her. it is 4am where i live, so i apologize if this has all gotten away from me.

love is a garden u have to water yourself. ngl, my favorite part about this blog is all the posts about learning to love yourself, learning to see ur intrinsic value dispite the core facets of u that have been deemed flaws, and trust the relationship between me, myself, and i.

i started out telling myself i was writing this to help the high school kid, but i havent shared this with anyone. writing this out has helped me process a thing or two, or at least start to. i like this idea of lavendersage being a kindly cryptid who will alchemise ur heartache into calm.

i hope you dont mind if i try to make this a thing.

my story is in the shape of a love letter. its tearstained before it even hits the water. i drop it in your river and watch it float away.

y’all are breaking my heart with these stories this week 🤧i feel so sad to read them and so helpless to respond, because i know how deep that pain must run and i don’t know if there’s truly anything i could say or do to take it away. but if i can lessen it from 100 to 99, well, then i’ll have fulfilled my goal of existing on this website. at the very least, i’m glad that writing this message helped you process some things on your own, but i’m happy to share my thoughts anyway.

your mars sounds like a top tier human being. victorian flower language? i’m swooning. it’s no surprise to me that you fell for them, and they were clearly head over heels for you. folks don’t make grand gestures like that for just anyone, that’s for sure 🥺

and i’m very sad to hear about the way things ended. but, anon, i can’t help but wonder if it is indeed over, or if hope exists on the precipice of a great act of bravery performed by you--something i know from experience is much easier said than done, and something i’ve failed to do in the past, so i’m not trying to be a hypocrite here. the ball is definitely in your court, though.

also...it doesn’t sit well with me to hear you call yourself a villain. i understand why you see it that way, as it’s clear that you deeply care for this person. but for many folks...the fear of what our family will say or think or do weighs so heavily on us that it robs us of any possibility of happiness with someone who isn’t the kind of person our family wants us to end up with. i’m sure plenty of folks, myself included, can empathize with this. and i’m sure on some level, mars does too.

my love, as with all things, i hope whatever happens next works out for the best, and that you don’t let this experience darken your heart. if things change between you and mars, please feel free to drop me a note. i’ll always be here to listen 💚💚💚`

#asks #Anonymous

[beeexx]

Set after 1x10 Carlos and TK have another moment. It’s basically a long extended scene. Can be read on ao3 as well. Enjoy When TK asks, a little hesitant, about going back to Carlos’ place Carlos has to stop and think about it. He wants to say yes, but a part of him knows it would be a really bad idea to jump back into bed with each other again. There is an overdue conversation and words to be exchanged between them and TK makes him stupid, resisting him out here on the hood of the car already turning into a bit of a struggle for him. He takes too long to answer because TK’s face falls, closing off and Carlos scolds himself. Before the hand can be retracted from his grip he squeezes it tightly making TK’s eyes snap to his.

“Yes, but only to sleep, nothing else.” He says kindly, he doesn’t want it to come off as rejection. TK searches his face before he smiles a little, making Carlos’ heart flutter.

“Okay.” He promises. 

The drive back is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Carlos can feel tiredness seeping into his bones, the cataclysmic day he’s had, along with probably everyone in the state, finally beginning to take its toll on him. TK doesn’t say much either, but he looks lighter and a little more settled than he has for a while, and that, that is something. When they get to his place he unlocks the door and switches the lightswitch on and TK stumbles into him, his face showing clear discomfort. Maybe he’s thinking of the last time he was here and how the night that was supposed to be nice and romantic ended up pretty terrible. Carlos coughs, pointedly and TK looks at him in embarrassment. Carlos just rolls his eyes and smiles because in this moment he can’t bring himself to bust his balls about what happened.

“Come on.” He says and TK follows him. He opens the door that leads to his bedroom, a room TK’s never made it to before because all the sex has literally only happened on the couch, against a wall or on the floor. It was honestly mind blowingly good sex according to Carlos, but it never felt very intimate to him. It always lacked a certain kind of softness or caring to it, that Carlos somehow knew they could have. But a wall was always up with TK, even when they were literally fucking against one, which is what he would describe what they were doing, definitely fucking, but not having sex. TK looks hesitant again, like he’s thinking along the same lines and his eyes keep flitting around the room in uncertainty. His eyes land on a photo that’s sitting on his nightstand where there’s a picture of him, his three sisters, and his parents. Carlos loves that picture. He walks over to his closet, and leaves TK standing in the middle of the room, eyeing the bed, and starts looking for something for TK to wear. It feels appropriate for some reason, even though Carlos’ seen everything underneath, a few times already. 

“Here.” He says and tosses him a T-shirt and some pyjama pants he hasn’t used in ages. TK catches them easily enough and Carlos turns around to give him some privacy to change. He changes out of his jeans and steps into a pair of shorts. He doesn’t miss the look TK sends him when he takes the shirt off and he hides his smirk. Being appreciated is always nice. TK changes out of the tracksuit bottoms but when he tries taking his shirt of he grimaces in pain. Carlos knows he will push through and take the shirt off himself, but he steps up close anyway.

“Here, let me.” He says and sees TK gulp at the sudden closeness. He nods numbly though and drops his arm to the side. Carefully Carlos fits his hands underneath the jumper and slowly lifts it over his head. He makes sure to be careful when he gently pulls TK’s hand over his head, and not graze the wound. He puts the jumper down on the chair by the mirror.

“You want to keep your own T-shirt?” He aks and TK shakes his head.

“No I’ll take yours.” He says quietly. Carlos nods before he repeats the motion, even gentler than before. His fingers accidentally caresses TK’s side and he doesn’t miss how the skin jumps underneath the touch or how TK very audibly gulps. He tosses the shirt towards the chair, hopefully doesn’t miss it, and finds he can’t take his eyes off the very glaring plaster over TK’s heart. A part of him wants to reach out, feel his heart underneath his fingers to reassure himself it’s still beating. He sighs and the gently reaches forward, places his hand just underneath the plaster and rests his palm there instead. TK’s eyes flutter close and his breathing picks up, Carlos can feel it, faintly, but still feel it, even with his hand a little misplaced. He hears TK bite back a whine as he takes his palm away and he smiles cheekily at him when TK opens his eyes again.

“It’s been that long huh?” He’s being presumptuous but a part of him doesn’t care and kind of feels like he deserves to gloat a little bit about TK’s apparent lack of sex life.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, and the moment is broken by that as Carlos laughs and pulls his shirt over TK’s head. It’s a lot too big for him and while TK is in no means small, he’s definitely smaller than what he is. The look is doing things to Carlos and he has to force his eyes away, because seeing TK disappear in his clothes is making his heart jump in his chest, while it also kind of makes him a little horny. It’s a very odd combination.

“Bed time.” He says and turns over to the side he always sleeps on. He pulls the covers back and gets inside, settling against the headboard and waits for TK to do something other than just stand in his room, looking a little lost. When he finally comes back to it he moves to the other side of the bed and gets in. He pulls the cover up and lies on his side where the wound isn’t and then groans.

“I need to text my dad.” He says and slowly and awkwardly gets out of bed again. Carlos gives him a look.

“Yeah well how many 26 year olds do you know that are recovering addicts with bullet wounds in their hearts?” It’s meant to be a joke, but it falls a little flat, the reminder of how many bad things have happened recently to him, so Carlos’ eyes soften.

“Only one.” He says, heavily and TK looks at him for a long time, a little vulnerable, so Carlos smiles reassuringly at him.

“I’ve met your dad in passing, I’d say texting is a good idea.”

“You’ve met fire captain dad, overprotective dad of only son is a whole different story.” He chuckles and Carlos snorts. 

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

“He can be a little… much.” TK settles on. 

“Because he cares.”

“Yeah.” TK. says softly, and puts the phone down. He gets comfortable again and pulls the covers back over his arms as he settles on his side. Carlos looks at him for a while, how soft he looks with his hair unstyled and wearing Carlos’ clothes. He doesn’t look small but he looks like someone Carlos wants to care for, to pull close and hold against him and reassure that things will be okay. It’s an overwhelming ache, a need to do it that comes out of nowhere, that is almost so overpowering that he almost does it, almost. They’re not there yet so he clenches his hand and exhales through his mouth. Despite all the emotions TK brings out in him he’s happy he’s here in his bed with him at least. And with that the tiredness and exhaustion is creeping back in, and he allows himself to fully feel it, doesn’t think it will take long until he falls asleep after this. Slowly he reaches forward, TK’s eyes widening as he strokes his cheek, and wipes the corner of his mouth, smiling softly. TK exhales loudly and Carlos pulls back and turns off the light.

“Good night TK.”

“Good night Carlos.” He whispers. 

……….

When Carlos wakes the next morning it’s to an empty bed. It disappoints him more than it probably should because no promises were made between them. Honestly, not many words were spoken between them at all last night. Once the light was out he had fallen asleep rather quickly, the day finally taking its toll. He woke up around 4am though because he was overheating, and the answer to that was that in their sleep they had both seemed to move, with TK securely tucked into his side, his breathing heavy and fluttering against Carlos’ cheek. Carlos hadn’t wanted to move away from the position and had chosen to suffer through the warmth until he fell back asleep again. The clock says it’s 11am, which is very late for him. He’s always been an early riser but after a solar storm even he seemed to have some limits when it came to waking up. He sighs but gets out of bed, in search for some coffee. When he opens the door he is met by the fresh roast of just that wafting through the air and TK sitting on his kitchen island with his phone, still in Carlos’ clothes. He stops for a moment, taking in the view and his heart flutters against his ribs, unable to stop the feeling it brings when he sees TK in his kitchen.

“Spending the night and staying to drink coffee in the morning, that must be some sort of record, huh?” He jokes, making TK look up and blush a little.

“I made some coffee, there’s some for you too, I hope you don’t mind.” He says and points to the mug on the counter.

“No not at all.” He walks up to it and takes a sip, smiling around the mug. Honestly, nothing beats the first taste of coffee in the morning. TK’s back is still turned away and Carlos puts the mug down again, sensing that something’s not quite right.

“I’m surprised you stayed.” He can’t help but say and sees TK take a deep breath.

“I thought about leaving but it didn’t seem… right, after everything.”

“Okay.” Carlos steps around him and leans against the chair, opposite TK. He looks small on the counter, his legs dangling off the edge, and Carlos’ clothes hanging off him loosely. He bites at his lip before he glances at Carlos and then to the ground.

“What is it?” He prompts, unable to leave whatever it is hanging between them.

“I need a favour.” The words are rushed out and Carlos frowns. 

“Okay.” But he can’t take the insecure look that keeps on passing over TK’s face so he takes a step forward, and another, until TK’s eyes widen and his body seems to move on autopilot and his legs open up for Carlos to step in between. He rests his hands on either side of TK’s body and looks at him with what he hopes is an honest and open look. 

“What is it?” He says gently and TK’s eyes flit away from him again, but this time he follows them and finds an orange pill bottle beside TK’s cup of cooling coffee. He frowns and looks back at him. 

TK sighs.

“It’s pain medication from the hospital. I just… I don’t fully trust myself with those…”

“Oh.” Carlos say like and idiot and TK grimaces and looks at the bottle warily.

“Have you taken any before?”

He shakes his head.

“I asked specifically to only be given ibuprofen when I got discharged the first time. But after yesterday when I pulled the stitches and overstrained, well everything, I got given those to take and was too distracted to say otherwise. But…”

“Are you in pain?” Carlos frowns and TK grimaces, which is all the answer he needs.

“A little, it’s manageable, but not exactly comfortable.”

“Okay.”

“So can you keep those for me then?” He sounds ashamed and defeated and he’s shrunk in on himself and Carlos’ stomach twists itself into a knot.

“Of course.” He says and takes the bottle in his hand before he very gently lifts TK’s shin up to meet his eyes. 

“Hey.” He says gently and TK’s lip twist upwards, not really a smile, but something almost like that. 

“Do you want one now?”

TK doesn’t look away but he seems to think about his answer.

“Not the best question to ask an addict.” He says and Carlos rolls his eyes at the bad joke.

“Can you take them on an empty stomach?” He rephrases another question and TK shrugs.

“Yeah but it’s not advised.”

“Okay, well you’re definitely staying for breakfast then.”  

TK bites his smile down, his cheeks flushed and Carlos is fucking overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. He tracks the movement with his lips, eyes dark and hungry and TK exhales meaningfully. 

“Breakfast first before any life altering decision are made.” Carlos decides and it makes TK chuckle, the moment once again broken. Carlos knows he keeps avoiding the elephant in the room that keeps growing between them, because he knows that if he were to overstep this made up boundary they would end up where they started months ago, which was eventually what broke them to begin with. TK’s words about a team hangs heavy in his mind, and while he agrees that they do, he’s not sure it’s enough. Or he needs something that is a little more of a reassurance of friendship, or something.

“Sure.”

“What do you want to eat?”

TK just shrugs as a response which is unhelpful and Carlos lifts an eyebrow. 

“Okay, well I’ll think of something.” He’s stepping away, but he doesn’t get far before he’s pulled back forcefully, maybe a little too much so because he stumbles and almost knocks TK off the counter. He steadies himself with a hand on his side.

“I’m not easy to love.” Carlos stops moving and frowns at TK who looks like he hadn’t mean to say that.

“I mean - “

“What makes you say that?” Carlos doesn’t move his hand away from TK’s waist, if anything he brushes his hand across his side, feeling the lean muscles underneath the thin shirt he’s wearing. TK opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“My track record kind of agrees with that.” Carlos just frowns, waiting for more of an explanation.

TK sighs and waves his hands around them expasterly, and grimaces as his shoulder hurts but Carlos waits him out, kind of demanding an explanation he knows is behind the outburst.

“Okay fine, I’m a mess half the time and honestly probably not only because of being an addict. But when I’m not a mess I am either too much or too little so I always give people a reason to leave.”

He’s sad and it makes Carlos ache for him, while at the same time feeling such anger on his behalf because of what he knows of TK, he’s pretty special, and none of what he’s just said is true.

“Or maybe you haven’t met the right person yet.”

TK scoffs, but it’s not cruel, it’s more in a self-deprecated kind of way.

“I just… everyone leaves Carlos, everyone. So that either makes it something wrong with me or with the whole word. And the statistics for something being wrong with every person I meet and want to date is much lower than something being wrong with me, so the conclusion is pretty obvious.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” 

TK shakes his head.

“Right.” He mutters.

“It’s not.” He cups both his cheeks, forcing him to look at him. Reluctantly he meets his eyes. “I want to convince you that’s the truth but I’m not sure I can either. So I’ll say this, you think you are too much? Well okay, so I misread the signals completely and made you a romantic dinner when clearly you were only looking for a hookup.”

“Yeah, I’m still very sorry about that.” And Carlos believes him.

“I know but my point is I can be pushy and ‘too much’ as you put it, too. That is not a trait significant only to you. Hell we don’t know each other that well and I already care about you a lot, possibly more than you care about me. But just like you, I have a job that sometimes demands too much of me, to the point where I want to withdraw into myself for days and not speak to anyone. I once didn’t show up to my sister’s birthday party because of a really rough day and she didn’t speak to me for a month.” TK winces and grimaces and Carlos nods.

“Yep. So guess what pretty boy you really aren’t the only one here that’s made mistakes or are going to make mistakes either. Are these just not excuses?”

“What?” 

“You told me you’ve felt numb every since you came to Texas, but aren’t you just punishing yourself in some kind of way. Or are you thinking you’re not worthy of feeling anything that could be good because you’ve gotten hurt in the past so you force yourself to feel nothing at all instead.”

TK’s eyes widen and Carlos can literally see his defences falling apart, the wall breaking, he’s been seen. 

“W-what?” He chokes out and Carlos smiles kindly. 

“Did I hit it on the nail?”

“Maybe…” He confesses and Carlos squeezes his face gently between his hands. 

“It’s not living, if you’re hiding, if you’re not yourself even when you have made mistakes. You shouldn’t be alone with it at least.”

TK has unshed tears in his eyes and his breathing is a little shaky. Carlos removes his hand but not before stroking his cheeks gently. He puts his hands down on either side of TK and nudges his nose with his own. TK’s lips twitches and that’s something. 

“You should let yourself feel the good things too. You have people who care a lot, that much I know. I went to the hospital and your dad was there every day while you were in the coma, and he had to literally force the others to go back to work, otherwise they would have stayed right there with him. You have me, so if you want to be friends we can be, no hard feelings.”

TK shakes his head quickly.

“No, no, I don’t want to be just friends though.” Carlos bites down his smile, but he thinks it slips through anyway.

“Well that’s something, progress.” 

“But I did mean it when I said my last relationship ended badly. I-I proposed and he broke up with me because he found someone new so I relapsed and I almost died. My dad found me in my apartment and managed to bring me back. So this is the second time this year I’ve almost died.” He grimaces at the painful memory and Carlos sighs heavily, feeling, well… a lot and mostly just very badly for him.

“That’s rough, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I go to meetings and it’s something, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s enough though, so I don’t know.”

“And therapy?”

“That too.”

“Normalise guys who go to therapy 2020.” And the joke makes TK snort, but it turns into a small smile in the end.

“Shut up dork.”

“Me? A dork? Don’t think that’s quite right.”

“Please you were totally into Star Wars growing up.”

“Maybe you’ll find out if you date me.” He smirks. TK laughs and it makes Carlos smile, something settling a little steadier into his chest when he hears it.

“So…” Carlos says, because he needs to hear some more words before this conversation is over. TK sighs but looks determined after a little bit of contemplation.

“So, I would like to date you, get to know you, take things slow and then we will see.”

“Ah, so dating huh?”

“Yes. Exclusively though, I like you so I’d hope we wouldn’t be seeing other people, is that too much to ask?” He asks, the uncertain tone back again. Carlos honestly think that’s going to be the least of his problems. He’s already hooked on TK and only him. 

“So, you like me huh?” He settles for, teasing, and hoping to make TK comfortable again. 

“Yes.” He scrunches up his face in an adorable little grimace and it makes Carlos laugh, happily and a little more freer. 

“Cool.”

“You’ve suddenly gotten tight lipped on me?” 

“What can I say I like watching you sweat a little bit.”

“Rude.” He pouts and oh no. Carlos grips the counter tighter because he’s looking extremely kissable at the moment, lashes long and a little redness to his cheeks.

“Well I like you too, dating sounds like a good idea to me.” 

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

They stare at each other none of them saying anything, the tension in the room suddenly back in full force. Carlos thinks TK knows exactly what he’s doing and that thought alone is making him even harder to resist. He coughs to break the tension.

“So, breakfast?”

TK groans.

“You’re really going to make me ask aren’t you?”

“Ask what?”

“To ki - no you know what…”

Carlos doesn’t have time to ask what before TK is pulling him down and slotting their lips together. His eyes falls shut and one hand settles on TK’s side the other finds his way onto his face, cradling his face close while TK’s hand settle in his hair. He hums happily against TK’s lips and feel him smile in return. When Carlos nibbles at his lip playfully TK opens it up and he has to stifle a groan when their tongues meet, TK’s tongue curling around Carlos which just makes him kiss hungrily back.

And that’s where he stops and pulls back. This time TK chases after him whining loudly before he pouts when he doesn’t get another kiss.

“Fucking tease.”

“Kissing without even a proper date, doesn’t seem right.”

“You and I definitely skipped a few steps when it comes to the dating rule book.”

“Yep, so breakfast?” He asks cheekily and TK rolls his eyes but nods.

“Yeah sure.

“Okay.” But he leans in and gently pecks TK’s lips before he steps back, slowly discarding himself from where he has gotten a little tangled into TK, who has swollen lips and messy hair and dark eyes, and who Carlos now gets to date.

Not a bad start to the day. He thinks it can only get better.

“So eggs?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He hears TK jump off the counter and come join him in the kitchen.

Carlos has a feeling it’s the start of something good. And that’s enough for now.

#9-1-1 lone star #911 lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk x carlos #tarlos #tarlos fic #fanfiction #my writings

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

Can we PLEASE get some todoroki fluff I miss your writing 🥺

hI IM SO SORRY I KNOW THESE PAST FEW MONTHS IVE BEEN SHIT AT WRITING/POSTING BUT IVE BEEN CONSTANTLY BUSY, also I wrote this like 2 weeks ago at 4 am and I don't even know if it's the kind of fluff you wanted lmao dont mind me 😊 (also I guess this is a college au?)

----

'Do you love me?'

Shoutos eyebrows furrowed at the random text you had sent him late at night, or early in the morning he supposed. You had told him a few hours ago that you were feeling extra sleepy tonight and were gonna head to bed early, and there was literally an 'I love you too' message above yours, the one he had sent through your nightly 'I love you' before bed. But apparently that wasnt enough.

'Of course I do, why?'

He tried focusing his attention back onto the show he was watching, but the uneasy feeling in his gut told him that you needed him right now - and he chose to pause the show and impatiently wait for your response. Shouto couldnt help but get slightly annoyed as the 3 dots kept appearing and disappearing, but still, he kept his eyes focused on the bright screen, ready to read whatever it was you were going to send him.

'Just.... Idk... its dumb... I know you love me, I really do, but sometimes I cant help but think you're just staying because you feel bad... it wouldnt be the first time someones used me for affection..."

Shouto found himself staring at your message for a while. Did you think he was using you?

'Baby... you dont really think I'm with you because I feel bad... you know me, I'm not willing to stay with someone for something as dumb as that. I love you y/n, I love you more than anyone I've ever met, please believe me. Do you want me to come over?'

Letting out a long sigh as he sent his reply, he jumped up out of his bed and went to slip his shoes on. Even if you said you didnt want him to come, he was going to.

'No! Well - if you do.... can you come in like an hour?'

'Why?'

'I dont want you to see me crying."

Its official now, hes definitely coming over. He even grabbed an extra hoodie for good measure, knowing that no matter what his hoodie would cheer you up at least a bit. Your apartment was very luckily pretty close by, only a 15 minute walk that he could push down to 10 if he moved quickly - so it wasnt long before a slightly panting Shouto was knocking on your door.

You knew who it was, who else in their right mind would come over at 4am (although you did have some highly crackheaded friends that wouldnt surprise you if they suddenly showed up this late, but right now you just wanted Shouto so you didnt even consider that).

"You weren't supposed to come for another 40 minutes."

Shouto gave you a teasing smile as he made his way through your door, even though your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes almost had him tearing up himself. And you really thought he didnt actually love you.

"Hmm really? I didnt notice, I was too busy missing my darling."

Not even giving you the chance to roll your eyes at his remark, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom, barely kicking off his shoes before sitting down and holding out the hoodie he brought for you.

"If you wanna lie down you have to put this on."

This time you were able to fully give him your eye roll, pulling a snicker from his lips - apparently even sad you still found joy in messing with him. Once the hoodie was on, Shouto wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, falling backwards himself so that you would end up lying on his chest.

"Now, you wanna talk about it baby? Why'd you think that all of the sudden?"

He felt you nuzzle closer into him, your fists bundling up his own hoodie as you breathed in his comforting scent. Even if you were nervous to talk about what going on, Shouto always had a way of keeping you calm.

"I was just thinking about how much my life has changed since I moved here, I guess I was being sentimental. First I was all happy thinking about how I got to meet you and all our friends, and how I felt included and cared about for once. But then I remembered my whole reason for moving out here in the first place - before college, no one gave a damn about me. Not my parents, not my friends, no one. I realized how many people that were close to me had never cared about my wellbeing, but stayed because they knew that I would care about theirs. So I moved here for a new start, hoping I'd find people who did care, and I did! But I cant help but wonder if they only care because they're using me too..."

Shouto rubbed your back gently as you rambled on, listening intently to every word you said. It hurt hearing you say these things, he knew you didnt have much back home, but he didnt think that you had really never had people genuinely care about you.

"Baby, you're with good people now. We all love you, even Katsuki loves you. And you better get it through that thick skull of yours that I absolutely adore you. No one here is using you, and if they are you know I will not hesitate to beat the shit out of them."

He smiled when he heard your soft giggle, happy he was able to help lift your spirits.

"Shouto, you cant just go beating people up."

"I can if they hurt you."

"Only if they punch me or something. Otherwise, no. I cant risk you getting actually hurt."

Shouto didnt respond to that, instead pulling you closer into his chest and rolling onto his side, lacing your legs together and making it so that you couldnt leave even if you wanted to as a soft smile made it's way onto his face.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah babe?"

"I love you. More than anything."

#😬😬😬😬 #todoroki #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #bnha #mha #a sad yet fluffy comfort fic with todoroki where rEADER is getting comforted? wow