#//That's not even the only issue though man they gotta stop adding stuff and fix the issues on the site already

[crimsononiarataki-archive]

//Man, if only this site was actually functional, but that's far too much to ask of Tumblr.

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse. 

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that,  maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you. 

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you. 

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now. 

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag  Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode. 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior. 

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing. 

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving. 

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed. 

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well. 

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

[aceofspadegrass]

Good Old Drama and Gossip

Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Morizono Aguni (Mentioned), Chishiya Shuntaro (mentioned), Last Boss (Briefly Mentioned), and me

Genre: Crack. This time it's just blind!Niragi being fussy and me stealing Aguni in the background

1.5k words

Part 3 of being a little shit to Hatter and getting away with it. But hey, at least there's the added bonus of Niragi being dramatic while being able to see nothing. A shame I didn't arm him with a cane and let him smack people.

Hatter was going to get them this time, he swears on it. It’s been more than a week since they last struck, and as far as he knew, there was not a single invasion into his Beach. He was always on alert, just in case something happened. It didn’t get in the way of his primary duty to his people, but the thought never left him to make sure everything he owned was in place.

Checking for any of the other’s stuff wasn’t anything Hatter worried about, thankfully. For some odd reason he could only interpret as ‘being too handsome and irresistible for his own good’ only his stuff was ever snatched like a cookie in the elusive cookie jar. He didn’t want to develop more stress lines making sure his men were okay in their personal possessions. Wrinkles shall only come to accentuate him, make him look good, not just tired and old.

That privilege can go to Aguni.

The man in question was at the very least rocking it, made him look fierce. Hatter could appreciate that in him, and it makes his job easier in subduing the more…. rambunctious of their group.

In fact, one of Aguni’s more problematic men, Niragi, had come back to a game with bad eye issues, even more worse than the appointed med staff could figure out. Apparently the game the oversaturated oil stain was in broke his eyes to the point where he couldn’t use them for a good while. In short, Niragi was left completely blind, and Aguni now had to deal with an increasingly whiny and temper hearty baked bean burrito. Hatter found it funny, but oh boy was it wearing out his poor fried dumpling.

It also left quite a hole in the defense for the intruders, so the issue of Aguni and Niragi was also an issue for the safety of the Beach (and Hatter’s stuff) as a whole.

No point thinking about this now. Hatter leans back on the sofa, sipping at a cold blend of juices and relaxing. His feet were killing him right about now, Hatter flexing his stiff toes and internally begging for a good pedicure to fly in through the doors and give his feet a touch of heaven and bliss.

The door in fact does fly open as the thought passes his head, Hatter sitting up and raising an eyebrow as Niragi stands there, breathing heavily. The sunglasses Hatter has so graciously offered to him in order to make him both sexier and protect his eyes from the sunlight so he didn’t permanently damage them further was slipping slightly off his face, Niragi fixing them after a few more pants.

“ You…..! You fucking coconut slut!” Niragi rasps out, and Hatter quirks his eyebrow in mild amusement, leaning forward and sipping his juice quietly as one arm rested on his knee. Niragi points a finger in Hatter’s direction, if Hatter was 45 degrees to the left and standing. “ You fucking left me tied on that bed for an hour! What fucking gives!”

Hatter says nothing, as Niragi storms in….. and immediately slams into the back of the other couch, Hatter bursting into laughter. Niragi on the other hand starts spouting obscenities and kicks the couch, and the red cocktail man notices the lack of real gun in Niragi’s possession, other than the super soaker that was substituted. Aguni probably replaced it, knowing that a blind trigger happy man was a danger to society and himself.

“ What the fuck is this bull?! What- Oh for fucks sakes this isn’t Chishiya’s room is it.” Niragi finally sputters out, grabbing the top edge of the couch and massaging the soft cushions underneath his long fingers.

“ Oh, I wish I was. Now what was this about being tied to a bed, hm?” Hatter croons, which earns him a hearty middle finger.

“ Like heck am I about to tell you. Okay, let’s try this again-“ Niragi turns around, but Hatter whistles at him, Niragi slowly spinning back around to face Hatter’s general position. “ What is it, I don’t have all day lobster man.”

“ Aww, not even a minute? Well, it’s just a question. Aren’t you supposed to be accompanied until you regain your senses? After all, you have nothing to guide your way.”

“ Fuck that, I don’t know where Last Boss went and he won’t fucking speak up if he’s just been following me like a sneaky little bitch this entire time, and Aguni was called away for something!”

“ Oh?” Hatter leans back again, Niragi throwing his arms up in the air as he starts pacing and nearly running into stuff again.

“ Yeah! So then that tiny mozzarella cheese ball came and said he’d help because I just look sad and stupid wandering around by myself, which I don’t believe because I know he’d push me into the pool the first chance he got, and then suddenly I’m tied to a bed as he puts on a podcast of nothing but some random guy talking about wool! It was hell!”

“ Oooh, I see. How bad was it?”

“ Fucking terrible! I did not need a wool lecture, thank you very little! Who the fuck wants to know the fastest record to shear a sheep was 39 seconds!? Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” Niragi rants, Hatter nodding and grinning as he switches his juice out for the good wine he kept by his foot the entire time, pouring himself a decent amount and taking a slow sip as Niragi continued to rant onwards. At some point Niragi managed to find the couch again (because he stubbed his toe into it, leading to an extra twenty seconds of Niragi cursing out Hatter’s poor couch) and sat down, Hatter pushing a wine glass into Niragi’s hand and filling it. Niragi downed it like he was a war orphan waiting for his arm to be donated to the war effort, Hatter lightly tsking him for not savouring it properly.

It wasn’t Aguni or any of the girls, but Hatter could appreciate the gossip as Niragi continued without a filter in his mouth, the rant going from Chishiya’s wool podcast to anything else Niragi had heard in his blind boredom. He was impressed how much information Niragi was willing to dole out just to get his anger settled for the rest of the day, and Hatter was happily sipping away as he absorbed it all.

Finally Niragi had calmed down, just nursing the wine glass that Hatter just filled with chocolate cereal instead, as Niragi refused to drink his wine like it was good wine. It was a shame really, Hatter liked hearing about Niragi’s auditory bubble day.

“ Well wasn’t that cathartic!” Hatter chirped as Niragi mumbled around his glass of chocolate cereal, draped over the entire couch as if he wanted to become the couch lord. Or wanting to be painted like the best model in the world, whatever he wanted.

“ Yeah yeah, whatever.” Niragi tips cereal into his mouth just as the crackle of his walkie-talkie alerts him and Hatter. Niragi doesn’t bother to remove the device from his side, too busy eating his cereal as a voice comes through.

And oh boy, what a voice it was, Hatter tuning into it immediately.

“ ….. Testing, testing! Are you hearing me? Hi hi, it’s me, your local menace~ The one with the robe, remember me? Yeah! Hi, don’t mind me, okay? I’m just gonna….. borrow Mr. Beef Stew with extra beef for a few hours! For personal, very important reasons and definitely not because I got a replica statue of a cute dog stuck in a window and now I can’t get it out. Anyways, bye!” The rest becomes static as it disconnects, Niragi snorting a little as Hatter takes one deep breath.

“ Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Niragi, hand it over to me.”

“ You’re not my boss.” “ Yes, but I’m Aguni’s, so hand it over.”

Niragi grumbles, unclipping the walkie-talkie and tossing it in Hatter’s general direction, Hatter humming and pressing the button on the side.

“ Hello? Are you still there, you rascal?” Hatter leans in, pouring as much honey into his voice to lure them out.

“… Yep, still here! Hi, didn’t think you’d be there too Hatter.” “ Oh, I’m here, and I would like to kindly know where you and your little friends are. As a little house visit~” There was a chuckle on the other end. “ Oh, sorry sorry, but I can’t. We can always come over and visit though, even if it’s for a brief moment!” “ Is that so…. Well, you wound me so, you know!” Hatter puts a hand on his chest. “ For you to not even offer me the same respect, ah it hits me right here that you can’t even trust me~”

“ Sorry! Anyways, gotta go, got things to do, got stuff to move with Aguni, who was nice enough to help us.”

“ At your base? Well, what’s stopping me from asking him for directions later for a surprise visit one of these days, maybe have a meet and greet with my beloved stolen items?”

“ Not anywhere near our base, we’re not that dumb my dear red bean paste~ Don’t worry, we’ll return your man in….. 3-5 business days maybe okay byeeeeeeeee-“ The line goes completely dead, and Hatter stares at the black box.

Those cursed beings, they’ve gone too far. Too far.

[mashedpotittiess]

Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about.  Words: 13k Rating: M  Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class.  It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care.  Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions.  “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement.  “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less  regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”.  “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.”  “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks.  Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded.  “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped.  “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls”  Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes  you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be”  Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics.  Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily.  The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck.  “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked.  Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!”  Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him.  “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone.  “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated.  Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!”  Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation.  “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed.  Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot.  The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body.  “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage.  Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away.  Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years.  You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down.  You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.”  Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about.  Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands.  Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled.  Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture.  As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours.  Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door.  Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours.  While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra.  You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day.  You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching.   Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean.  Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim.  Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and  trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do.  Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n”  Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths.  Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you.  Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out”  Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

————————————

Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

[kimberly-spirits13]

Bat Pranks and Gun Fights (Request)

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: (Reader is like Deadpool) For a month you had been trying to prank Batman with your best friend Jason. The task was easier said than done but one night, you finally get the chance but halfway through the night, you get interrupted by a more serious matter.

Warnings: Language, mentions of getting shot but not anything graphic at all, also at the end there is some mention of some stronger pain killers that eventually cause the reader to fall asleep really quickly so if that bothers anyone just FYI it’s there

Word Count: 2502

           As an antihero, you did what you saw right. You knew the law, you follow the law... mostly... but besides that, the point of your job is to find loopholes and ways to go about your business technically not breaking the law. Another added to that is that you also go around annoying those who are very precise about following the law as best they can. Take Batman for instance, one of the most terrifying and iconic heroes you knew, lived just outside your base city of New York. That’s where you and Jason worked most of the time if he wasn’t in Gotham anyways. The Batman was someone to be feared, someone to be honored. You on the other hand had heard the stories of what he had done to Jason and thought he was an old grumpy asshole that needed to be taught a lesson.

           So, for the entire month that’s what you tried to do. All you were really doing was prank Batman in a harmless way so that you wouldn’t be thrown off a building but every time you got close, something happened. Now you were suiting up in your apartment ready for another night of crime fighting. Tonight was your night to prank the Batman. You were heading out to Gotham and meeting up with Jason for the bust. After a few minutes, you found yourself hopping onto your motorcycle and heading down the interstate down towards Gotham. __________________________________________

 It seemed like no time had really passed by since you were on the interstate and now riding with Jason to where Bruce would be.

           “So, any other plans tonight other than possibly being thrown off a building by the old man?” Jason asked.

           “No, not really.” You replied on the headset of your helmet, “I’ve been tracking a group of people that are smuggling contraband into the US through the Hudson River. It’s weapons like guns and a shit ton of modified explosives.” “You know, the usual.”

           Jason laughed some before making a sharp turn into an alley. You did the same, stopping behind his bike and putting the kickstand down. The important thing about keeping your bike in some random alley way was making sure no one could steal it. That was what your codes and finger print was for. That thing wasn’t moving but for only yours and one other person’s finger print ID. You hadn’t revealed who that other person was.

           “So, what’s the plan?” He asked.

           “I figure until he catches us, something simple like making his smoke shields go off randomly.” You answered shrugging.          

           “Oh come on, that would be lame.” Jason side eyed you, “The demon could do better.”

           “Not if we did it in front of Gordon.” You smiled, a glint of mischief glazing over your eyes, “I mean just imagine the commissioner giving a rundown of some serious crime happening and suddenly Batman starts smoking from behind.” “The look on his face would be hilarious.”

           “You’re not wrong.” Jason thought about it for a second, “Okay, until we get caught he escalate more and more in what we do. But for now, this sounds like it could be fun.”

           You smiled at the look on Jason’s face. Whenever he took off his helmet, his hair would always swoosh over. You liked how it looked, just not really how it smelled when it got really sweaty. You always made a face when he did and sometimes would spray a flowery perfume that you got as a joke in his hair to improve on the smell. It’s not like he would do anything to you for it but maybe jokingly flip you off.

           The two of you climbed up onto the building where Gordon and Batman typically meet. Lucky for you, tonight was a full moon as you liked to call it since you really couldn’t see the moon that well in Gotham with all of the pollution and possible rain clouds. A full moon here meant that the Bat-signal was up and running. There was something big going on somewhere and Batman had to be notified.

           As you reached the top, you and Jason ducked behind a cover spot on the building closest to where Gordon was waiting.

           “Move over, I’m in the open Hood!” You hissed nudging his side.

           “I can’t move over or I’ll be open too.”

           You huffed and looked at the height of what you were trying to hide behind.

           “Fine then.” In order to solve this dilemma, you laid on top of Jason. You were both facing the same direction, you were just stacked. You laid your chin on his helmet some and smirked down at him. You couldn’t see the look on your face, but judging by his change in position, you could tell he wasn’t expecting that.

           “What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

           “Fixing the issue. Anyways, why are you so tall? My feet hardly touch yours.”

           Jason sighed, “Maybe it’s cause I’m not short like somebody here.”

           “I’m not short!” You demanded, “You’re just a giant Jason.”

__________________________________________

           Time passed and you two were getting tired of the pranks that were being played on the Bat. You were pretty positive he was tired of it too. You weren’t doing anything to get anyone killed, just to cause minor annoyances. It was funny to watch, but now your mind was drifting elsewhere. You wondered what Jason thought when you climbed onto him. It wasn’t like you were doing something to get anything started, you were just curious what he thought of you. You thought that maybe there was a chance that he possibly liked you back.

           Your thoughts would have consumed you longer if you weren’t alerted by your tracker on the smugglers. At the sight of what you were seeing, your eyes widened.            “I’ve gotta go.” You said jumping up from next to Jason.

           “What is it?”

           “The targets have almost reached the docks. If I go now, I can make it and stop them.”

           “Do you even know what you’re walking into?” Jason asked.

           “I have somewhat of an idea.” You lied a tiny bit knowing that there could be more than you originally planned, “I’ll be fine.”

           “You’d better be.” He was quick to say, “Don’t go getting yourself killed tonight. Trust me when I say it isn’t fun.”            “Yes, yes, I’ve got that part.” You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, I’ll call you when I’m done with this party.”

__________________________________________

           Now you were at the docks. It was colder than you’d expected with the breeze coming in and reinforcements were waiting for the cargo load. You would have to strike fast for this to work. The one problem was you didn’t know how that would play out. Dropping from your hiding place, you crept up behind one of the guards on the outer rim of security. With a sword in hand, you took him out.

           “Oops, didn’t see you there buddy.” You smirked some and moved onto the next one. It was an easy job so far. The security was terrible on the rims as you’d imagine and no one was raising any sort of alarm.

           After finishing this part, you climbed back up to see that there were even more heavily armed men aboard the ship than you had ever anticipated.

           “No big deal.” You mumbled, “Just like all the times before. Crack a few jokes, kill a few idiots, and at the end, blow some stuff up. It’s just what you do now a days.”

           Time was ticking and the slot for best entry was getting smaller and smaller. You looked around once more and then dropped to the ground when the shipments were on the docks so that they couldn’t be moved after the boat caught flames from the devices you’d planted around it.

           “Hey boys. I hope you don’t mind but, I saw you were having a moving in party and wanted to drop by and give a house warming gift. Well, then again, I guess catching the boat on fire wasn’t the best gift, but it certainly did the job well.” You smirked taking the approaching ones out and avoiding the flying bullets.

           You only slowed down just a bit when one slightly grazed your arm, “Okay, who did that?” “This was a brand -new suit and I did not want it damaged tonight.” “God, who taught you manners? A fish?”

           It was all running well again. The advisories were being taken out, weapons were being destroyed and... you looked up to see one of the crates of explosives. If you wanted to, you could light that baby up and let it do your job for you. The issue was making it out on time without any other survivors. You didn’t need any lose ends on this mission. There was a moment of pause before someone called out your name.

           “Y/S/H/N, need any help?” You looked behind you to see Jason shooting at some guys.

           “What are you doing here Hood?” You looked almost a little too shocked to see him, you really were a bit too shocked to see him.

           “Got a bad feeling and figured you might need back up at some point. Not saying you’re not capable, just watching out.” He explained loading in another magazine.

           “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You looked back up at the crate, “Say there is one thing you could do though.”

           “And that is?”

           “Cover me while I go take out whoever is hording that massive crate of explosives.”

           You didn’t give him any time to protest on your actions. It was always unclear to you why he was so protective of you in those regards but no one else. It wasn’t like you were his significant other or something. That is, no matter how much you wanted to be.

           “You had no business coming here tonight.” Some taller man said shooting at you.

           “Neither did you but I guess we both found some.” You retorted firing back as well.

           “If you’re here for information, you won’t ever get it.”

           “Trust me buddy, I have all of the information I need.” “You’re not really a hard group to track.” Rolling your eyes, you shot the man in the arm, making him cry out in pain, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

           “Not if I detonate these.” He gave you a look like no other you’d really seen before.

           Sometimes you’d meet people that had fairly evil motives. Other times it was just the run of the mill henchmen. But sometimes, like just on these missions, you’d come across a group or one singular person that was so dedicated to a cause or leader, they’d rather die themselves with what they were hiding than give it up. Those people were some of the scariest.

           “Hood get out of here!” You said into the coms.

           “What’s going on up there?”

           “I’m about to try and stop this guy from taking the docks out.” You answered grimly knowing that this wouldn’t end well for either you nor the man in question.

           “What are you crazy?” Jason yelled.

           “maybe.”

           You jumped over the crate to where the man was and shot him down before looking over at the count down. There wasn’t much time before it set off. You quickly started typing codes that you had picked up into the device. It wasn’t until after a few seconds that you noticed how close the time was getting. Sighing, you knew the only thing to do was leave. You turned around, not seeing the last remaining henchmen behind you and was shot in the side. The moment Jason registered what was going on, he shot the man who was now aiming at him and jumped onto the boat to grab you. That was when he noticed the spot on your arm as well as your bleeding side.

           There were less than 10 seconds on the clock. Jason ran as fast as he could when the explosion went off. It sent him stumbling to the ground since he was a decent distance, that stumble didn’t help you though. You were sure you hadn’t been hit anywhere super important, it just hurt, a lot.

           “Come on Y/N/N, stay with me.” He went to your bike which was the only one there since he zeta beamed to New York.

           He was in too much of a rush to remember that your bike needed finger print ID to start going. With you straddling him so he could make sure you didn’t fall off, he cursed under his breath.

           “I know you’re not going to like this, but I need you to get the bike going.” He said to you.

           “You can do it.” You groaned.

           “No, I need your ID fo-“ He stopped when you cut him off.

           “I told you, you can do it.”

           That was when he realized what you meant and started up the bike himself with his own ID. He smiled at the gesture. Maybe you really did trust him enough. Maybe you actually felt the same about him as he did you.

__________________________________________

           High on pain killers you sat on your bathtub ledge getting stitches from Jason while draped over him for support. He was pretty sure you would either start ranting about something extremely random that he might be able to use for blackmail, or you’d start snoring. Either one was fine to him as long as you didn’t stop breathing. That was when there would be issues.

           “Jaybird, you know I really like you right?” You asked making his cheeks heat up.

           “I didn’t know that.” He had to clear his throat.

           “Yeah, I’ve always thought you looked really nice. Then I got to know you and now you’re even better.”

           “Well what if I told you I liked you a lot too?” Jason asked smiling at what you had said.

           You sat up and looked at him quickly, “Really?”

           “Yes, and don’t rip out your stitches. I don’t want to put them back in.”

           “Well if you really liked me, you’d kiss me like what they do in the movies.” You smirked some at Jason.

           “What kind of movies have you been watching recently.” He scrunched up his nose faking a look of disgust.

           “Jason Peter Todd, I mean it.”

           Jason gave your stiches a once over before pulling you into a kiss. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before pulling away.

           “What else do they do in movies?” He asked.

           There was no response.

           “Y/N? ...Doll?” Jason looked down to see you asleep sitting up, whatever Alfred had recommended, it worked because you were out like a light.

           He laughed and carried you into your room, tucking you in. He went to go sleep in the living room but stopped when your hand didn’t let go of his. Jason sighed holding in a chuckle before changing into his own night clothes and climbing in next to you.

I hope you guys liked this one. I know it’s a bit longer but I really liked the request and things just kept coming to mind of what to add to it. I’ve got something big coming for a fic unless I scrap it. It’ll be long and Idk when I’ll finish it, but you’ll know when it gets here. Anyways, I hope you’re all having a wonderful day and week and continue to have a great one. Stay safe and healthy and make sure to take care of yourself when you need it.

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. four : reunited, and it feels so...

three

Monday

It was about twenty minutes after eight and Cam had just left. Though, I’d been up for a while since I had to make breakfast for him. I didn’t mind, because I was too anxious to sleep anyway. I was finally about to get out of this depressing ass house for a bit. And O was never boring, so I knew it was about to be a good time. Plus I was so ready to see him. I don't know why, but this particular stretch had felt much longer than all the others. I was on the way to go pack my bag when I decided to mess with him a little instead. I grabbed my phone ready to compose a text, but I already had a notification from him. 

Get up. I’m in route, on my way to you

It had only been there for one minute. I guess we both had the same idea to play this morning. 

I’m up. Been up

You ready?

Yes big head I’m ready 

Ok short legs I was just making sure

I hollered. He was just average height himself, and only about six inches taller than me. Calling somebody short. 

Lmao why you gotta take it there? I’ll be in your vicinity today, don't get beat up

I’m not worried

You should be

Why? Ain't nobody scared of you Jay Baby

Say it to my face

You think I won't

Ok keep that same energy when you see me

Oh fa sho, you do the same

Don't worry about me, you know I’m a G 

Keep talking with your bad ass 

You ain’t gon do nothing

Me and my big head can stay home

I’m not worried lmao you know you wanna see me

You ain't funny

And you ain't gotta lie, you chuckled 

Lol anyway I’m leaving now, I’ll be over there in a minute

I know 

Lmao whatever

I laughed aloud sending him three crying laughing emoji, then slid my phone down into my bra. Finally, I went over to the closet to fill my duffle. I threw a few casual pieces in first, because comfort over everything, and then I added about three or four that could possibly be worn out. I grabbed some sneakers, a couple pairs of heels, a little jewelry, underwear, pajamas, and I packed a separate smaller bag with all of my toiletries. I had taken a shower earlier so I was ready. For about a second, I debated on whether I should change, then decided against it. I knew we would be going right to sleep once we got to his place, so my loungewear would do. 

While I waited for him, I walked over to the mirror, happy that my home remedies had helped my bruises and swelling disappear so quickly. It had only been about two and a half days, but a few aspirin and some intense ice pack usage had really worked. My rug burns were scabbed, but I wasn't too worried about those since the majority would be under my clothes. However, there was still a tiny something at the corner of my mouth, so I covered it with a bit of concealer and finished it with some setting powder. And I was sure to toss the two of them into my makeup bag for later use. 

A little after nine, much to my delight, the doorbell rang. I squealed, giddy as ever, as I jumped up to walk to the door. And, when I opened it, before me stood my bestest friend in the whole world with the goofiest smile on his face. I laughed and invited him in, so excited that I was hardly able to get the door closed behind him. Then I kissed his cheek and pulled him into the tightest hug. It felt so good to be in his arms again. “Hey.” I spoke into his chest and his deep, honeyed timbre fluttered against my ears. 

“Hey.”

I closed my eyes and just held on to him, feeling completely carefree, taking in a moment that didn't get to happen as much as I’d like. I didn't want to let go. Until he took his face down to nuzzle my neck. I flinched and giggled, backing away from him and shielding myself with my shoulder. He knew better. “Don't…”

“Now what's all that shit you was talking?” he asked jokingly, looking down into my face and laughing. 

I tossed my head back, cackling, before I went to smack his arm. “Shut up.”

“Look out. You ready?”

“Yeah, just let me get my stuff.” I left his embrace and started for the living room where I had been waiting.

“Hurry up, get me out this nigga shit.”

I screamed. I knew he hated coming here. But this was his own fault. Because he also didn’t like texting to tell me he was outside, because to him it wasn't courteous. For the same reason, he didn’t like me taking Ubers to or from his place. I personally didn't have a problem with either. Both had been done maybe twice in the beginning and he told me he felt weird about it. I only half understood, but I didn't fight him on it. Honestly, it felt nice to actually be valued for a change. “Simmer down, sir. I’m coming.”

“You know you naked?” 

I paid him no mind and kept moving toward my bags, still tickled by his earlier demand. “Whatever. No, I’m not.” My boxers and tank were plenty clothes.

“Dude would probably have a fit if he knew you were leaving the house in that.” 

Slightly appalled, I stopped mid stroll and turned back to him. “Excuse you? He would also have a fit if he knew you were picking his girl up. But that hasn’t been an issue for you for how long now?”

“Good point. Carry on.” The way he waved me off almost had me in tears. My rebuttal had shut him up too quick. 

“I thought so.”

“Not even a jacket, though? It’s kinda cool out there.”

“I’ll be ok. I’m just running to the car then right into the house after that.”

“If you say so. But what happened to your knee?” 

“Oh, nothing. I scraped it on the carpet. It was an accident,” I hastily explained just under a shout, disappearing around the corner. I hoped I wouldn't have to go into more detail. Omari definitely wasn't shy about asking questions when he wanted to know something.

“Oh. Damn.”

I returned in no time with my duffle bag in hand and my purse on my arm. He took the bag, being his usual gentlemanly self, and I grabbed my keys to lock up the house. Once we were on the porch, I made sure to engage the alarm from my phone. Then he and I hopped into his white Range that I loved so much, and we were out. 

“You hungry?” he asked, yawning.

I yawned instantly, seeing him do it first. “Nah, I'm good. I just wanna go back to sleep.” 

“Word. Me, too.” 

After Cam was done packing last night, he woke me up for round three. Or maybe it was four. I don’t know. But it wasn’t uncommon for him to try and fuck me senseless before he left for work. I guess he thought overuse of his penis was what it took for me to still be there whenever he returned. Whatever the case, I was tired as hell and in need of some serious rest. 

2:04pm

I opened my eyes, slowly becoming aware that Jade and I were face to face. I lingered for a second, letting my vision clear up, enjoying the view more than anything, though. She was stunning. Just so beautiful. Her features had to have been sculpted by the most masterful hands, using only the finest of materials. The lines were sharp, but they had a softness to them. Her skin was golden like warmed maple on a glorious Sunday morning. When they were available, her round, dark brown eyes were gentle, yet so alluring. The way they sparkled in the sun always got me. To top it all off, her sultry pout sat perfectly beneath a nose that fit just right. She was flawless. 

While I stood stretching, yawning, alternating between bending and rubbing the arm she had been lying on, I could see a sense of calm in her expression. She always looked that way when we were together. Like she was happy. And I knew that wasn't the case at home. I tried not to think about it too often, but honestly it really bothered me. She hit me up pretty regularly, revealing how he talked to her, the many ways he mistreated her. But it was probably a lot worse than she was willing to admit. My instincts told me that he was putting his hands on her. She had never confirmed my suspicions, but I knew it was the truth. I knew. And the thought of that shit alone killed me. She was so sweet. So soft spoken and mild mannered. She didn't have a cruel bone in her body. I just couldn’t imagine her actually having the need to protect herself not only from harmful, ugly words but some nigga’s hand. It fucked me up. She was easily my favorite person. I hadn’t witnessed a more pure soul. And to be aware that she was suffering, especially through something so horrible and damaging, was beginning to be too much. I couldn't do shit about it. I couldn't fix it, I couldn't change it. All I could do was be there for her, give her a place to decompress from time to time. Which I loved. I wanted to help her in any way I could, but I was starting to feel like I was in over my head. Truthfully, I didn’t know how much longer I was gonna be able to do this. It was becoming very difficult for me to live with myself. My conscience was tearing my ass up. The most trifling woman didn’t deserve what she was being subjected to every day, and she wasn’t even guilty of anything. Her only fault was loving a nigga who meant her absolutely no good.

I didn't fully understand that either. Of course I knew love could make you do things you maybe wouldn't normally do, but in this case, what was there to love? How could she look at a nigga who was constantly causing her pain and feel anything other than hate? I just didn't get it. She had to know that whatever she was experiencing wasn't love. He was abusing her. How could she still love him? Why would she take his wrath and still allow him to receive all of her goodness? She had to know he didn't deserve it. She had to know that she deserved so much better. From any man. From life. From any situation she found herself in. She had to know that something wasn't right.

But she held fast to her claims. From the start she made it known that she was in a relationship and that she was in love. I respected her honesty, but her words and her actions never matched up. Her mood on the way to my place and the one on the way back to hers were always on two completely opposite ends of the scale. I don't know if she couldn't conceal it or if she just didn't care to, but it was painfully evident where she was excited to be and where she dreaded. She just didn't move like the taken woman she alleged to be. Not by her ‘man’ at least. 

I walked into the bathroom and made my way to the toilet. Then I went to the sink to wash up. I was leaning over brushing my teeth when I felt her arms wrap around me.

I kissed his back, resting my head right against his bare skin after. “Hey.”

“What’s up?” 

I caught his reflection in the mirror and, before I could stop them, my lips had curled into an enormous grin. I was so ridiculously glad to finally be in the same place as him. Plus he was so cute. He had toothpaste all over his mouth, but it took nothing away from his appearance. I couldn't help but notice how good we looked standing there together. A better best friend duo didn't exist. 

“I’ma start thinking you happy to see me in a minute,” he teased, finishing up at the sink. 

I busted out laughing. How dare he just blow up my spot like that? I let my arms fall from his waist. He turned to face me and I swatted his chest, backing away to leave the room. “Get off. Don't act like you didn't miss me.”

He followed me out, going toward his closet. “I already told you that. You know I’m always glad to be in your presence.”

“Um hmm.” I bashfully rolled my eyes, blushing against my own will. Thankfully he was trailing me. He went into the closet and I leaned up against the doorway. “So I thought about it, let’s stay in today.”

“Ok.” He took a t-shirt from one of the drawers and pulled it over his head. “That’s cool.”

“We can go do something tomorrow.”

“Well, I got a couple meetings,” he casually announced, walking over to the other side of the room headed for the couch.

“Awww.” I wasn’t expecting him to have to work so soon. “What time?”

“The first one is at nine in the morning, but neither of them should take too long. Nobody’s recording and I’m not mixing anything. So it should only be a few hours.” 

I stood as he sat, my demeanor in a totally different arena than before. My arms were loosely folded across my chest and a slight scowl had inevitably taken over my expression. “Ok.”

“Jay,” he chuckled, picking up the remote, “don't act like that.”

“I know what you call a few hours. I probably gotta be here all day without you.” 

“It won't be all day,” he claimed, giving the TV all of his attention as he flipped through the channels. “I should be back by around three at the latest. Maybe four.”

I smacked my lips, annoyed that he was alluding to seven hours being minuscule. That was most certainly the entire day. “That’s long.”

“Pooh, you know work doesn't stop. I’m always working.”

“I know, but I just got here.”

He sighed heavily, looking up at me with remorseful eyes and a frown to match. “Why you tryna make me feel bad?”

“I’m not. I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself,” I spoke lightly, but the defeat was heavy in my voice. I dropped my head and gave him my eyes, making sure to slouch my shoulders and pout as deeply as I could manage. I didn't even hold it long before we were both cracking up. 

“Don't even try it. Fake self.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“You just about to be sleep the whole time anyway.” 

I doubled over and slapped my knee, because he definitely wasn’t lying. “Whatever.” But I was not about to admit it. Instead, I went to my bag and grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste. “Be right back.”

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 17: 3x07 Day of the Dove

I am incredibly discombobulated today—usual weekend nocturnal shenanigans I guess! Anyway it’s somehow midnight. Gonna try to write up these note on the Classic episode The Day of the Dove in as efficient a manner as possible.

Hmm, a planet with wavy pink Fraggle plants. I like it already.

But where is Spock? Very suspicious.

I really appreciate Kirk giving a little speech to set up the overall question/issue for us. (I know he does this all the time with the Captain’s logs but this is out loud and so… more obviously expository.)

Oh no, it’s our old friends…the Klingons.

I will admit that this ONE TIME, the Klingon is being reasonable. Like, it is reasonable to think that Kirk and the Enterprise attacked his ship, given that his hip WAS attacked, and who else would it be?

Three years of peace between the Klingons and the Federation? That is inclusive of the show so all this tension must technically be “peace” and also implies there was something more like a direct war going on, like, right before Kirk got the captaincy.

Zoolander voice: What is this, a colony of the INVISIBLE?

“We have no devil. But we understand the habits of yours.”

No takers? No takers on the torture? No volunteers to be mercilessly tortured by the Klingons?

Star Trek Beyond could have had Kirk and Chekov bond over being brothers! I mean, to other people.

They’ll kill 100 hostages at the first sign of treachery. He does know there are only 400-some people on the ship right? Maybe you should pace yourself, Kang.

Kirk’s so badass he needs MULTIPLE guns trained on him just to use the phone.

Oh-ho secret message to Spock. Which version of the iPhone will be capable of doing THAT?

The Klingons are “suspended in transit” is an awfully nice way of saying they’re just dematerialized atoms in space. Philosophy major and/or Bones nightmare fuel.

How did Kang not see this coming, by the way? Like, he just says “I’m taking your ship now, me and my 6 men versus your 400-some men, and I’ll do this by simply declaring it to be so. Now let’s beam up to your ship, where I’ll be greatly outnumbered, and there are armed security guards all around me.” Guess he’s been reading The Secret!

WIFE AND SCIENCE OFFICER

Aka the most important part of this whole episode.

Kirk’s face is very ?????? You can have both????

It’s legitimately not even important for her to be the science officer tbqh. Like that is so gratuitous. That’s just in there to drive me insane.

"We're prisoners, somehow, after I demanded to come on the ship, assuming they'd just give it to me without any kind of fight. How DID this happen?”

Federation death camps lol—someone’s been watching Fox News.

I do kind of wonder… is this an actual rumor that goes around the Klingon homeworld or is it something that the alien entity put in her head specifically to make her angrier right now? I mean it really could be either.

I also appreciate this episode for being pretty much the only one to actually attempt to give the Klingons a reason for being as they are. The Romulans… maybe aren’t well-described, but they do have a sort of regalness to them, appropriate for being related to Vulcans, and you can kind of imagine that they are the way they are because they’re Vulcans without the intense self-control. Plus they’re literally only in 2 TOS eps and in the second, the Federation are the aggressors. But the Klingons show up a half-dozen times only to be depicted each time as just like Cartoonishly Bad, aggressive, violent, and selfish for basically no reason. And I mean, some people really are!! But TOS has so much nuance in other places, that it always seemed a little disappointing to me that the Klingons are really just like ‘well we’re just bad and we hate everyone and we really like killing I guess.” At least in this ep there’s a little more added to that: that there is poverty on their world, that they feel aggrieved, that they feel unprotected, that taking and conquering is how they look after themselves…

I think that’s later in the episode though.

He’s detaining them in the LOUNGE lol. With their favorite dishes available to them to eat. Absolutely barbarous conditions.

I can’t believe Chekov is hanging in the elevator with the cool kids. Like, one of these things really isn’t like the others.

Kang is officially sure of himself for someone currently imprisoned in the lounge, that most fearsome of Federation death camps.

Hmm, could the glittery light alien have taken over??

You know what, that's a lot of tasks for Johnson to do all by himself: search the whole ship, fix the engines, and free 400 people.

Sulu would love this: everyone gets a sword!!

“Bridge. I gotta show this to Sulu immediately.”

Klingons have maintained a dueling tradition. That’s interesting. Finally some characterization going on.

Spock is really living up to his logical nature today. Everyone else has gone off the emotional deep end and he’s like “have you considered this completely rational explanation that accounts for the actual, observed facts??”

Whoops Chekov is actually an only child. Scratch that previous Beyond headcanon. (Interesting that his dead brother does really resemble Sam though—killed on a research colony??)

Love that Sulu knows that about him though.

Oh, that’s a pretty schematic picture of the Enterprise. I want that on a t-shirt.

Lol the pan out to the armory, now filled with… swords!!

Do ALL of these men have a fetish for swords? Sulu and fencing, Spock displaying swords in his quarters, and Kirk in his San Francisco apartment, and Scotty salivating over this Scottish blade.

“Klingon units.”

Finally Sulu gets his sword! It’s what he deserves.

Love that the shiny light alien also has a fetish for swords.

Oh no, it’s our old adversary, an alien life force.

What is the alien’s purpose? Um, I’m pretty sure its purpose is to start shit.

“An appropriate choice of terms, Captain.” I don’t even remember what this is referring to but I think it’s pretty clear that Spock is enjoying himself during a crisis again.

Bones, being so dramatic. Were there atrocities? He’s talking about the Klingons as if they were literally hacking off limbs—it’s a few stab wounds here and there, chill.

Oooh, time to behave like military men—strong words. (But I thought it wasn’t the military?? @ S**** P****) (This might not even be my best argument, given the context of this episode, but I’m sticking with it.)

This is like a giant game of capture the flag.

AU that’s just about the Enterprise crew playing capture the flag with the Klingons.

Sulu in the background standing guard with his sword

Damn, turning on Spock with the slurs now!!

Spock was absolutely ready to kill him. Like he would 100% have taken him out with a blow to the head. And he’d been doing such a good job of not feeling the alien’s effects so far! Admittedly, that was a strong provocation though.

Honestly, I really like this scene. It’s uncomfortable and tense and you can really see how the alien is bringing out the worst possible influences of their respective races. And I liked how Spock was definitely full on pre-Reform Vulcan for a minute there. It was a more effective portrayal of what that might have looked like than All Our Yesterdays tbqh.

A result of… stress?

Kirk got himself out of it first. He’s so strong. He knows himself so well, he cannot be outsmarted by any alien.

“We’ve been taught to think in terms other than war.”

“The alien brings out the worst of us—patriotic drumbeating…even race hatred.”

He’s so sad; he can’t imagine thinking like that about Spock :(

Sulu in a Jeffries tube! A man of many talents. It’s okay bb, take credit for turning on the lights.

The alien must have been getting bored. The Klingons must have been doing too well, and the playing field needs to be leveled for maximum shit-stirring.

“Let’s find that alien.” That’s how I ALWAYS feel.

Oh, Kang, you’re so close—“What power supports our battle but thwarts our victory.” So, so close to getting it.

ALIEN DETECTED.

Spock takes his sword, of course.

“Jim.” Obligatory Jim moments hit differently when they’re not so obligatory.

“Jim—stop hitting my protégé. And put that sword down.”

Kirk looks so sad, picking Chekov up to carry him bridal style.

Also in addition to ‘race hatred’ I think we need to add ‘rape-y tendances’ to the bad stuff that the alien is inspiring here.

“A brief surge of racial bigotry. Most distasteful.” Spock winning for understatement of the year.

They're assuming the alien is trying to test out their relative powers but I think it just wants entertainment. I mean, doesn’t it look like a naughty little thing?

Mara’s outfit is… little shorts? Interesting. Usually not my style but she makes it work.

Spock doesn’t even look at Johnson as he falls lol. Another one bites the dust.

“It exists on the hate of others.”

What does this remind me of? Oh, the Vast of Night and the whole “aliens made us do every bad thing ever” conspiracy theory. At least this one makes more sense, in part because it is not quite so overwhelmingly broad!

All hostile attitudes must be eliminated, he says, and there's Mara right behind Kirk giving him a death stare lol.

Kang is so obviously posing. Google Earth, always taking pictures.

Only a few minutes before drifting forever in space becomes inevitable? Good thing Kirk works well under pressure.

“Well… do whatever you can, Scotty. You know the drill.” Doesn’t even bother giving real directions anymore. We’ve been in this scenario before.

“So we drift in space, with only hatred and bloodshed aboard.”

And the 392 people below just get to…live in Enterprise prison, I guess.

Star date: Armageddon. So dramatic!

I’m not even making that up; that’s an actual quote. Can you imagine being an Admiral listening to this?

“Stop the war now.” An actual line, really aired on television.

Spock wants to threaten the wife lol. That's the old pre-Reform Vulcan seeping through. Surak who?

Damn, Kang is cold. “Eh, she gets the concept of being killed in battle.” They’re gonna need marriage counseling after this.

“There is another way. Mutual trust and help.” Yes that’s my hero!!

“No one can guarantee the actions of another.” Can’t remember the context of this entirely anymore, but great line.

The entity is loving this—multi-person choreographed sword fight!!

"Those who hate and fight must stop themselves. otherwise it is not stopped.” Another baller line. Spock has a lot of deep thoughts today. And so does Kirk. And Kang.

Kirk tries to reason with the alien. Nice try.

“Shoo. Shoo, alien. Off the ship, go away.”

Omg that last moment—Kang slapping Kirk’s back way too hard, Spock’s completely ridiculous wide-eyed expression when he does, like some sort of combo of amusement and confusion, and then Sulu just passing on by in the background….

Then the alien just yeets itself into space. And that’s the end!

Always feels weird when there’s no wrap up on the bridge.

Also, what are they going to do with the Klingons? They have no ship. They really did come out of this a lot worse than Kirk and co. No ship, huge casualties—and no one to blame even, but the alien.

I feel like the alien messed up a little in killing so many Klingons. Like, it could have accomplished its purpose, angering the Klingons and turning them on Kirk, by attacking the ship a little less violently—you know they’d react to 5 deaths pretty much the same as 400, and then there would be many more people to fight forever and produce that sweet sweet anger!

Maybe the alien’s powers aren’t strong enough to influence 800 people though. Also it wants equal forces and 800 people wouldn’t fit on the Enterprise, one assumes. So it still makes sense.

That was, of course, an excellent episode. 100% agree with is classic status, even though the main things I remembered going in were the wife + science officer bit, and everyone laughing at the end in a really forced, fake way, in order to make the alien go away.

I thought the Klingons were a lot better/more interesting today than usual. First, I think Kang is a better character, or a better actor maybe, than the others; he has a certain way about him that is… more watchable, more sympathetic. And he’s always saying these really dramatic things that make it seem likely he writes patriotic Klingon war poetry in his off time. Also, including his wife made them seem more… not human obviously, but normal. Not just cardboard cut-out villains. And of course the actual lightly specific motivations I earlier mentioned helped too.

Also, the plotting was very good: it built up slowly but surely over time, so at first the alien’s influence wasn’t that obvious, and then it became more so, and then it became horrifically obvious and extreme. And then you had to re-evaluate earlier moments: was that the alien changing facts in their heads, or a real part of the animosity between humans and Klingons? And it wasn’t always clear, which I appreciated. The tension when the people were at their worst wasn’t overdone, like in that moment with Scotty, Spock, and Kirk—or even in Chekov’s assault on Mara, tbh. The various strategies of the different sides were very entertaining too; there was never a dull moment, and they fit in a lot of straight-up actions and twists into 50 minutes.

The possible threat was truly terrifying, also: stuck in a space ship, forever, unable to die, feeling the worst possible emotions all the time, besieged, angered, despairing, fighting a war that can’t be won, being injured and suffering only to recover and fight again, and it never stops… A perfect nightmare mixture of insanity and violence and pain. And the alien, in encouraging hatred and anger, doesn’t discriminate between sides: they turn on each other just as much as on the Klingons, breeding paranoia and infighting. For eternity.

The episode also felt much more strongly anti-war than I remember tbh. Like it was not subtle. Kirk literally says “stop the war” in so many words. He has a part in his speech where he talks about the possibility of other aliens out there, encouraging other wars. And while I do think “maybe the aliens are making us do it” is a cop out explanation, or would be if it were real, the scenario gave the show a lot of room to say, like, pretty ballsy things: to include “patriotic drum beating” along with “race hatred” in a list of corrupting feelings they were experiencing; to show how the same instincts that lead to warring also lead to sexual assault and the aforementioned ‘race hatred;” to reveal the true horror of an endless war by making the participants unkillable and sticking them in a singular space ship in the middle of nowhere; to imply that the combatants of war gain nothing from it, but outside or third-party entities will pull strings of their own design to profit from the conflict as long as possible; even to make an impassioned plea to camera to stop the endlessness of the conflict. Like I can’t even totally unpack this but it is a lot!

Finally, it was also a great Kirk episode, which of course is my most important factor. He’s smart; he’s strong; he’s so sure of himself and his values that he cannot be manipulated to mindless hatred, he represents the values of the Federation, and the show itself; he treats even his enemies with basic respect and humanity; and ultimately, he saves the day.

Okay I was not efficient in writing this up at all! It is very late!!

[butterflydreaming-writes-fic]

*sweats* I'm excited to offer a gift fic for @imthatpeculiarone in this round of the Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion. 

Title: This Wheel's on Fire 

Word Count: 3,419 

Fluff, Rated Gen

An old Lincoln Continental with faded paint nearly hits Baby in the supermarket parking lot. Dean slams the brakes. His untasted coffee takes a dive, and Dean is quickly slapping take-out napkins from the glove box stash even as he slides into an open parking spot. He takes a minute of the limited time he has for this errand to get himself calmed down.

His temper flares up again when he sees that he’s parked next to the gold Continental. He doesn’t have time to move the Impala to another spot, so he slides over the bench seat. The Fiat on that side is crookedly parked but still leaves enough space for Dean to open the door more than four inches.

Phone in hand,  he scrolls through Jody’s text messages for the list. While he was driving to the store, she’s added more. He grabs a shopping cart on the way in, notes where the freezer with the ice is, and speeds up an aisle toward the bakery section, where he almost collides with a guy striding through the T-intersection.

“Shit! By bad,” Dean says, stopping short of running the startled man down.

The man squints. His blue eyes burn brighter. “That would be the second time today,” he accuses.

“What?” Dean asks.

The man rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this,” he gripes as he beelines for another section of the store.

Dean doesn’t have time either. The cake is ready when he gets to the bakery counter, but they’ve written “Congratulations Kelsy” instead of “Kelly.” To fix it, Dean would have to wait for the only person on staff with the rare skill of being able to write with decorator gel to get back from a break of unknown duration. He takes the cake as-is and a tube of Cake Mate. He rattles through the aisles for the rest of the supplies, eyes the coffee cart, but opts to get in the shortest of the long checkout lines instead.

The cranky guy gets in line behind him.

Their eyes meet and lock. For a second it looks like the guy might yield and move to another line, but as Dean is starting to unload his items onto the belt, the guys interrupts.

“Can I go ahead of you? I only have three things.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Dean says. “I’m on a clock.”

“I’m not your buddy,” Blue Eyes snipes. He eyes Dean’s purchases, expression a mix of irritation and confusion.

“Man, what is your issue with me?” Dean protests. “Look, I haven’t had my coffee yet, so maybe I’m missing something. But I’ve gotta finish shopping and be gone in sixty seconds, OK? There’s a pregnant lady waiting for her cake and baby shower games. I’ll be out of your life in five minutes.”

The man’s face suddenly brightens. “You’re going to a baby shower.” The brilliance of his smile is like white sparks. Dean feels his body respond to the warmth of that smile even though the sudden transformation from pissy to friendly throws him.

The checker has started scanning Dean’s purchases. He gives her the sticker with the barcode for the cake. “And six bags of ice,” he tells her.

Blue Eyes asks, “Is the party for your partner?”

That startles a laugh out of Dean. “No,” he answers, a drawn out negation. “My friend is hosting. The mom-to-be is from her church.” He adds, “I’m not seeing anyone currently.” He gives the guys his own friendly smile.

Dean’s lure lands, because the man extends a hand. “I’m Cas. By the way.”

“Dean.” They shake hands. Cas has a strong grip. In the fleeting skin to skin contact notes the slight callous and Cas’s long fingers. He has good hands.

“It's a happy occasion.” Cas sets down his purchases: a guinea pig plushie, pack of gold gift wrapping tissue, and a glossy white bag decorated with rainbows and unicorns. A tween must be having a birthday. 

Dean reaches for his wallet to pay. It’s not in his pocket. “Crap.” This grocery store isn’t set up to take pay apps.

Cas catches on. “Dean, I’ve got this,” he says. “It’s just,” he gestures at the bags, “diapers and candy bars.” 

“It’s a lot,” Dean objects. “I’ll Venmo you the money right now.”

“I don’t know Venmo,” Cas says. He tells the cashier, “I’ll pay for mine with his.” To Dean he says, “Let’s exchange phone numbers and we can settle up later when we’re not holding up a checkout line.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks.

“I believe in trusting people.” Cas nearly bumps Dean’s hip putting his card into the payment terminal. When the path is clear, Dean pushes the shopping cart past the checkstand, but for a long moment Cas and Dean are crowded into each other’s personal space. 

“You said you haven’t had coffee yet. Can I buy you a cup?” Cas points to the coffee cart. “I know you’re short on time, but we can get each other’s contact info while they make our drinks.”

They both order drip coffee, black. The barista doesn’t have any brewed, and offers a choice between Americanos or a five minute wait.

“We can blame our delay on traffic,” Cas suggests.

They opt for the wait.

“OK, give me your number,” Dean says after they take a table in the tiny dining area. “If you want I can bring you cash after I drop off the party stuff.”

The cart is too big, so Dean takes out the bags and sets them on the table, leaving the cart parked out of the way. He’ll need it when he gets the ice on the way out. They start out chatting about movies and end up in an oddly intense discussion about social justice and the existence of a benevolent God in the minutes until the barista calls out that their coffees are ready.

Dean takes the lid off and slugs the coffee. He can’t help the sound that comes out of him, even though it is borderline inappropriate for a grocery store. “That’s scalding,” he says, eyes watering, “but so good.” Cas is smiling at him. “My friend woke me up with the shopping emergency,” Dean explains. He gestures to his coffee-splattered clothes. “And then some dick in a crappy Continental makes a illegal left on the way in here — “

“Excuse me ,” Cas interrupts with flashpoint ire. “That turn was both legal and clear , and if your boat hadn’t been taking up two lanes we would not have had that near miss!”

Dean takes a long swallow of hot coffee before he gets in a fight over Baby’s honor. He takes a mental half-step back as he realizes that Cas was the driver earlier. Dean has a bad temper, he knows it, and he’s learned to be better about it than he was in his twenties. Cas had saved his bacon with the money thing, and he had done it in spite of thinking Dean was in the wrong.

“Look. Thanks for the help,” he says. He’s sincere but somehow it comes out sounding aggressive. “I mean it. Thanks.” Without saying anything more, he grabs his bags and stalks out. He makes it all the way to Baby before he realizes. He gets the shopping bags in the trunk and goes back for the forgotten ice.

Cas is walking directly toward him. For a solid three strides across the asphalt it is a game of chicken. They stare daggers at each other, oblivious to any traffic around. Nearly simultaneously, they both realize that Cas is walking to his car, which is parked right next to the Impala, and Dean is walking back into the grocery store. They pass each other; the absence of acknowledgement is an acknowledgement in itself.

Dean makes it back into the store, loads up a shopping cart with the ice Cas paid for, and pushes the rattling cart out the door and across the lot to his car. The Continental is still in its spot. Cas hasn’t left yet; he is sitting in the driver seat. Dean can’t get into his driver’s seat until Cas leaves, so he loads the ice into the trunk slowly. He finishes his coffee.

When Cas still hasn’t left, Dean walks around the Lincoln’s large ass end and raps a knuckle on the back window to get Cas’s attention. He waits for Cas to roll down the window a few inches, before pitching his voice to him. “I can’t get in my car until you pull out,” he tells him.

“Your shopping cart is in the way. I’ve been waiting until it’s safe,” Cas informs him.

Dean just shakes his head and walks away, dragging his cart to the corral at the end of the parking row. He lobs his empty paper cup into the same trash can he dropped the mess from his spilled coffee into. He watches Cas back out of the space, smooth and easy, the engine of the Continental bumbling like a contented bee as he drives away. Dean jogs back to the Impala and slides into the driver seat before a car can take the newly empty spot, not that anything would fill the space like that late ‘70s Lincoln Continental Mark V. 

He gets a weird feeling looking at the empty space. It feels like a missed opportunity. He wishes he’d kept his mouth shut about the left turn. How many times had someone cut him off in traffic or made a bad lane change, and how many of those times mattered after? None. He and Cas had been having a good conversation, connecting.

Dean tunes the radio to the classic rock station, relaxes with the comfortable and familiar, and heads out. Kelly’s address is less than five minutes away, but too many of the residential streets dead end, and by the time he finds the right path through, it’s been a quarter hour. there is space for him in the driveway, though, and he pulls in so that he can unload the ice bags. He tosses one on his shoulder and knocks on the unfamiliar door.

* * *

“I should have handled that better,” Cas says to the stuffed animal, his last minute gift for Kelly’s baby-on-the-way. Her house is close by and he knows the way, so he finds himself thinking about Dean, feelings a mix of irritation and deep attraction. Dean, who he will probably never see again.

Because he knows that quite a few guests will be attending her party, he parks the Lincoln around the block to leave space along the street in front of her home. Kelly Kline-Rooney and her husband Jefferson have a newly remodeled, two-story Craftsman home with a large yard and back garden. Cas drew the plans for the remodel, and over some difficulty with the contractor, he and Kelly became friends.

He’s arrived early to help with set up, but Jody, the organizer — who he meets for the first time — shoos him out of the kitchen, so he gets to spend the time with Kelly. “How are you,” he asks her, “and how’s the baby?”

“I’m good,” she says, “we’re both good.” She heaves a little sigh and fidgets in her armchair. “Actually, I’m a little wound up. I haven’t finished painting the mural in the nursery, and all of a sudden I feel like there won’t be enough time to get anything finished before my baby gets here.” She smooths a hand over her belly. Her expression changes and she gasps, “Oh! Give me your hand.” She takes him by the wrist and pulls his hand toward her baby bump.

He feels her baby kick, all that life, gearing up to meet the world. Cas has to admit, because Kelly has enthusiastically roped him into the experience of her pregnancy, he has become more interested in the idea of having children. It has broadened his outlook.

“Kelly,” he finds himself saying, “I met someone today.”

Her eyes sparkle with interest. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet!” she laughs.

“I met him at the grocery store,” Cas says, shrugging. He smiles, thinking about Dean. His smile breaks as he recalls how it played out. “Unfortunately,” he confesses, “we didn’t part on good terms.”

“Cas,” Kelly mourns. “What happened? Tell me all about it?”

“This beautiful man,” he starts, thinking of Dean, his deep voice and the way he spoke with conviction and certainty. The way he made direct eye contact. The sexy freckles and the shape of his lips.

“Yes?” Kelly prompts when Cas gets lost in thought.

He laughs. “He is… very attractive,” Cas emphasizes. “You know I’m not overly focused on appearances, but Dean.” He shakes his head and looks heavenward. His eyes fall to his hands. He picks at his fingernails. “We almost got into a car accident, and that’s what we ended up fighting about. But before that, we got coffee together and talked, and we exchanged numbers.”

“Well that’s good!” Kelly encourages. “Something sparked between you. You can call him and smooth things out.”

“I wasn’t in the wrong,” Cas grumps.

“No, sweetie. I’m not saying you have to apologize or anything. But you can talk. You only just met. Sometimes first meetings don’t go all that well because of sparks.” She gives him a robust pat on the knee. “I’m rooting for you.” Inching forward in her chair to get up, she sighs, “I miss drinks with booze in them. How about we get some fancy lemonade and pretend it’s rosé?”

“I’ll get it,” Cas says so that Kelly doesn’t have to rise. He enters the kitchen with a hello for Jodi and gets introduced to Patience a moment before she leaves to answer the front door. Cas can hear her greeting the newcomer, and he stops mid-pour when he hears the deep timbre that answers. He finishes pouring Kelly’s sparkling pink lemonade before he musters the question for Jodi, “Is that Dean?”

“You know each other?” Jodi responds with cheerful curiosity.

Patience comes back in, holding up a grocery bag. “Dean came through. I’m going to help him bring in the bags of ice — “

“I can help with that,” Cas interrupts.

“Would you? Thanks!”

The look on Dean’s face when he sees Cas is… not what Cas expected. Dean’s eyes light up, and there is a genuine wonder in his surprise.

  * * *

Missouri’s granddaughter, Patience Turner, waves for Dean to come inside. “Hi Dean! Jody’s in the kitchen.”

“Hiya, Patience. Where can I put the ice? I’ve got five more bags like this.”

“There’s a big cooler out on the barbecue patio,” she says. “Through the living room. I’ll get you some help unloading the car.”

The living room already has a dozen people in it. Dean exchanges salutations with the people he knows and exudes charm at the rest. He shakes out the bag of ice into the cooler, which looks big enough, and scopes out the landing spot for the cake. There is a long table already stocked with plates and plastic cutlery; it has some gifts on it that will need to be moved to join the pile of gifts on the coffee table. Dean registers that one is a white gift bag with unicorns and rainbows on it, stuffed with gold tissue.

Patience is in the entry with Cas.

For a solid beat, Dean doesn’t know what to think, because something in his chest turns over like a big engine revving up. Once the wheels of his mind get going, he still continues standing there like an idiot. “Hey, Cas,” he says.

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas turns and goes out the door. When they reach the Impala, they are alone together, and it is awkward. It is definitely awkward. Cas stands by the trunk, expectantly.

“Here, let me get that,” Dean says. As he unlocks and lifts the heavy lid of the trunk, they are standing too close again. Dean should mind that Cas’s keeps getting into his personal space, but he doesn’t. He wants to get closer. This level of attraction makes him stupid, and he feels the urge to make an offhand comment to sabotage himself.

But then Cas says, “I’m sorry we parted on a bad note.”

“Yeah, um,” Dean answers, “me too.” He knows it’s not enough, not when he’s gotten a second chance. “I mean, I’m sorry, too.” It’s hard to believe it can be that simple, but Cas’s face lights up with hope, so maybe it is. 

“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can get all of this in one trip,” Cas says, and now they have to get moving. Apparently, he is also a pro at self-sabotage. It’s weirdly comforting.

They don’t get much of a chance to talk alone after that. Dean fixes the writing on Kelly’s cake and catches up with Jody, while Cas makes party talk with the people he knows. They chat, but not alone, not until Dean is volunteered to fire up the barbecue and Cas escapes outside with him.

It’s a gas barbecue, and clean. There isn’t much to do while it heats up. “How do you like your burger?” Dean asks, because food is an easy topic.

Cas shrugs. “Well done?”

Dean shakes his head. “A good cut of grass-fed beef, medium rare — that’s a burger to sink your teeth into. Juicy, fresh.”

“I don’t eat much red meat anymore,” Cas says. “I sneak a trip to White Castle once in a rare while.”

“White Castle? You’ve gotta let me make you a real burger, Cas.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Trust the Meat Man,” Dean says, pointing both thumbs back at himself.

Cas squints at him. “You’re very confident in your opinions,” he says.

Dean’s not sure how to take that. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“There’s more than one side to things,” Cas answers.

“A right side and a wrong side?” Dean teases.

“Dean.” Cas gives him an eye roll and a look, a real cut the crap look that delights Dean. He knows he likes arguing with someone who can hold his ground.

“You’re easy to get riled up, y’know that?”

“Am I.” Cas’s tone is flirty.

“Or maybe it’s just easy for me to get your wheels burning,” Dean flirts back.

“How, by disparaging my car?” Cas asks.

Dean blinks. “Your car?”

“You called it ‘crappy’.” He does the air quotes. “It’s not. There’s a lot to love about an old car. As I would think you would know, since you have one yourself.”

“Did you just compare my Impala to your land yacht? How does a guy like you even have a car like that?”

“I like it,” Cas defends.

“It’s still not a Chevy,” Dean says.

“I have never understood the Ford - Chevrolet rivalry,” Cas comments. “They’re not sports teams. It’s bizarre.” He’s serious.

“OK, OK,” Dean responds. “I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he says. He adds on, “It just comes easy to me.”

“So we should just kiss and make up?” Cas asks, making eye contact.

Dean licks his lips. Damn, if that isn’t an invitation.

They both glance at the sliding glass doors and the potential audience inside. “Ah, the garden shed,” Cas starts. “There might be some needed equipment.”

“Yeah, barbecue stuff or,” Dean agrees.

As soon as they are inside the painted shed, they are in each other’s personal space again. There is nothing accidental about the kiss that follows. Cas’s hands grip Dean at the hip. Dean puts his hands on Cas’s jaw. He holds his head and kisses him deeply, eager to feel him. He gets Cas’s lower lip between his own and gently lingers as they explore each other’s mouths.

They make out for as long as they think they can get away with. But the barbecue is unattended, and they know someone will wonder where they’ve disappeared to if they are gone too long.

Dean makes the moment they have last as long as he can. “I guess we should get back,” he murmurs, nuzzling at Cas’s neck.

“Mmh,” Cas makes a noise that could be agreement.

“What are you doing after the party?” Dean asks.

“Probably helping clean up,” answers Cas.

“Funny, me too. What about tomorrow?”

“Well, tomorrow I have to run some errands after work. Grocery store shopping.” Cas’s eyes are twinkling.

“Oh. I see. How about I do the shopping, and cook you a nice dinner? My place?”

“You’re on, Meat Man,” Cas agrees.

* * *

[liketolaugh-writes]

Alphabet Soup

Author: liketolaugh Summary:  Connor likes to explore his identity in bits and pieces, understanding what makes him himself one slice of life at a time. When Valentine's Day rolls around, that's when he first starts wondering about romance. Or: Connor's coming out, first to himself and then to others.

“Lieutenant, can you explain the concept of romantic love?”

Hank choked on his coffee, sending it sputtering in front of him as he coughed violently, setting the mug down hard on the table in front of him. Connor had to hide a grin, patting the man on the back to help him along until the man inevitably waved him off, still coughing.

“What the fuck,” Hank wheezed, once a few minutes had passed.

“I noticed the last time I went to the grocery store that some of the decorations had changed and a previously generic aisle had been redesigned to suit,” Connor explained, leaning against the table to idly monitor Hank’s respiration as it returned to baseline. “The last time this happened was when Christmas was coming up, if you recall, so I did some research, and my system database indicated that the occasion in question was Valentine’s Day. I thought you’d be able to explain it to me.”

“You fucker,” Hank complained, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He immediately took another deep swig of the coffee, pointedly ignoring Connor’s small smirk, and set it down again. “Ugh.”

“That’s not very helpful, Lieutenant,” Connor said mildly.

“Ugh,” Hank repeated, with extra emphasis. “Alright. Okay. Fine. Do we have to do this now?”

Connor quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting a little. Hank scowled back. Their bickering attracted Tina’s attention, and she sauntered over and plopped herself down with her own cup of coffee in hand.

“Anything causing the lieutenant that much visible anguish has my attention,” she announced, fixing avidly curious eyes on Connor. “What’s up?”

“I asked him to explain romantic love,” Connor informed her.

“Yeah, that would do it,” she snorted, a delighted smirk pulling across her mouth. “I’m so glad you decided to do this in public, and also in my vicinity, because this is way too much fun to pass up. He’s not gonna help you though. What did you want to know?”

Connor considered her for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of indulging her, but he was the one who’d decided to do this in a public avenue. “How do you recognize it?”

“Ooh,” she crooned gleefully. “That’s a fun one. Alright, so romantic love, that almost always starts with crushes.”

“Who has a crush?” Chris asked, appearing beside them. Hank seemed to have retreated into misery, scowling at the table and looking like he wished his coffee was spiked with something unhealthy. “Not you, I hope.”

“Fuck you, Chris,” Tina said without heat. “We’re explaining romance to Connor.”

“No, you’re not,” Connor disagreed, bringing a fist up to support his cheek idly.

“I’m getting to it,” Tina assured him. “Crushes, do you ever look at someone and just get excited to be around them? Maybe nervous? You know, butterflies in your stomach, fluttering heart, all that wonderful teenager stuff.”

Connor’s mind unwillingly shot to Markus. “No,” he said, a touch too quickly.

Tina looked skeptical, but didn’t push the issue. “Whatever, you’ll know it when you feel it.”

“Okay, but that’s not all there is to it,” Chris argued, and Connor shifted his gaze to him, hoping he would be more helpful. Chris shot him a small grin. “Romantic love kinda follows you your whole life. Crushes are part of it, but it matures over time. Your partner’s supposed to support you no matter what, even when things get hard. That’s the beauty of it though.”

“Chris is being sappy because every time he and his wife argue, they talk it through and fall even more in love,” Tina explained to Connor, who was at this point just growing increasingly confused.

“Why are we explaining the intricacies of successful marriages?” Ben asked, appearing by Hank and leaning on the table. “Not that I’m complaining, but I think the only ones married here are Chris and I.”

“Connor is asking about romance,” Chris explained to Ben. “Tina decided to save Hank the suffering.”

All of them looked at Hank, who had one hand covering his face, trying to tune out the conversation.

“And I decided to pitch in,” Chris finished, with an almost apologetic tone to his voice.

“I’m beginning to think I should have suffered in silence,” Connor mused aloud, trying not to smile. He wasn’t expecting this to be an actively popular topic, but he didn’t think he’d had a conversation this active or friendly with his coworkers before, and certainly not so many at once.

“You really should have,” Hank groaned, kicking him under the table. Connor kicked him back shamelessly, and Hank cursed, giving him a dirty look, to which Connor tilted his head innocently.

“You’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” Ben told Connor kindly, smile faintly bemused. “Maybe that nice girl from analytics.”

Tina clapped. “Oh, that’s a good example! Connor, you know Alicia?”

Connor nodded cautiously, head tilting. “Yes? She’s rather nice but a little strange.”

“That’s because she has a crush on you,” Tina explained earnestly. “She talks to you a lot with really flimsy reasoning, right? And she stutters and blushes and does you favors?”

“Yes…” Connor said, slow and cautious as he tried to follow, a little overwhelmed now. “What… do I do about this?”

“Oh god,” Hank groaned. Connor took the initiative and kicked him first this time.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Chris provided with a sympathetic smile. “But you’d definitely have more than a fair chance, if you want to ask her out. You probably get a little nervous around her too, right? Maybe want to get to know her better?”

“Your heart should beat fast,” Ben added, with a touch of wistfulness to his voice. “Maybe you want to show off and impress her. Young love is something special.”

Connor shook his head, increasingly flustered and starting to regret bringing up the topic more sincerely.

“I don’t,” he protested. “I just noticed that she was acting strangely.” He’d actually been a little concerned, and he wasn’t sure he felt any better about it now. How was he supposed to respond to a girl with a crush on him? This certainly wasn’t in his programming.

“Thank god,” Hank muttered, and then, clearer, bumping Connor more gently, “Then she’s flat out of luck, and you don’t have to do anything except maybe let her down nice if you feel like it.”

Connor hummed with some distress, finally reaching out to do some quick supplementary research, and then, after a few moments, said, “My research indicates that not all couples are a woman and a man?”

His mind flicked to the Tracis, two girls wrapped together like that would protect them from the rest of the world.

“He gets it,” Tina said with obvious pleasure, jabbing her thumb at Connor.

“Most couples are,” Ben corrected, with an almost apologetic bent.

Connor started to reply, but was distracted when someone else finally came into the break room, and a quick glance told Connor that it was Detective Reed who’d entered. Instantly, a smirk shot across Connor’s face and he called out,

“Detective Reed, look at me!”

Detective Reed turned around, a faintly confused scowl on his face as he stopped fumbling for a mug.

“Bitch,” Connor said clearly, and Reed sputtered.

The other four humans collapsed into various forms of laughter, and that was the end of that conversation. But Connor kept thinking about it, even when he went back to work and long after Hank had put it out of his mind.

-------

Hank wasn’t able to put it out of his mind for long, because soon after that, Connor started playing love songs in a wide variety of genres whenever the radio was silent for more than a few minutes.

The nature of the activity wasn’t itself particularly unusual; Connor spent quite a lot of time exploring new possible interests whenever they were drawn to his attention, and Hank had been kind enough to give him space to do so. The man had put up with classical, rap, movie soundtracks, and electrobeat as Connor tested them all out by turn.

Apparently Hank drew the line at Kelly Clarkson.

“Can’t you play this shit in your head?” Hank demanded of Connor, less than a week into his newest curiosity. He looked exceptionally sullen, slumped against the arm of the couch and making quiet, irritable groaning noises.

Connor would argue that he looked like a petulant child. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I could,” Connor said agreeably, “but this is one of the few occasions where doing so externally is genuinely better than keeping it within my system.” Transmitting sound data directly into his mind wasn’t quite the same as listening to it play.

“Wasn’t it enough to put me through that whole talk at work?” Hank demanded of him. “You gotta subject me to Taylor Swift all day too?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Connor deadpanned, glancing over at Hank, “but none of you were actually very helpful.” But Hank’s continual protests were starting to put a knot in his chest, and before he could think better of it, he asked, “Is there a reason you’re so reluctant to help me explore this particular topic, Lieutenant?”

Hank went still for a moment, and Connor winced as he realized what had caught his attention. Connor only called him ‘Lieutenant’ at home when he was uncomfortable. But he couldn’t help it; Hank was usually so unconditionally supportive of any moves Connor made to explore his opinions, so this uncharacteristic protest was making him nervous.

Hank exhaled.

“Hell,” he sighed, obviously frustrated. “It’s just- a messy topic, Con. I never really got the hang of it myself. That’s why I have an ex-wife instead of a wife.” Connor bit his cheek, trying to push his scattered thoughts together into a response, but when Hank looked over at him, the man’s expression relaxed a little, resigned instead of annoyed. “Most people go through their first fumbling relationships when they’re teenagers. I guess you didn’t exactly get that chance though.”

“I was never a teenager, Hank,” Connor reminded the other, trying to force the anxiety in his chest to ease. Hank rolled his eyes, but relaxed noticeably.

“Yeah, no shit. Anyway, I’ll put up with it, I guess. God knows I have practice.”

That made Connor curious, but not enough to ask. “Appreciated.”

So Connor kept running through them, shifting quickly from genre to genre but sticking to the main topic. He found that he preferred love songs by women, and liked the heartbroken ones as much as he did the longing and lovestruck ones, and otherwise his genre preferences had remained rather uniform: metal and rock were his favorite, pop was okay, and country and hip-hop were out of the question.

A few times, he tried to imagine what kind of woman he might want to date, but his mind skittered over the idea without catching on anything, and eventually he accepted the defeat with as much grace as he could. Maybe it was simply something he couldn’t guess before he tried. (Or maybe it was just another way Connor was failing to understand.)

Hank assured him, gruffly, that he’d probably work it out in time – he always had more faith in Connor than Connor had in himself, even if he was usually reluctant to express it.

Connor himself, of course, wasn’t nearly so sure. Who would even want to love Connor so intimately? Connor was… well. Connor. The reasons not to like him couldn’t be counted on fingers.

He didn’t say that to Hank, of course, and it didn’t stop him from thinking about it.

--------

In the immediate wake of this, Connor came to New Jericho’s headquarters on a social call.

It wasn’t something he made a point of doing. Actually, it was something he’d tried his very best not to do, not wanting to cause the androids of New Jericho any more discomfort than was strictly necessary to perform his duties. Even social calls as a more general concept were foreign to him. What would they even do? Most of the time, Connor either followed Hank’s lead or entertained himself alone. Group activities were new territory, and he was as unsure of himself as he ever was.

But Markus had asked. Connor rarely found it in himself to deny Markus anything.

So he met Josh at the front door of the headquarters and followed him inside, keeping quiet and awkward. Josh would be a reassuring presence if Connor weren’t so nervous just to be around him – he kept up a litany of neutral-ground questions about work and about Hank, and accepted Connor’s stilted answers without any evident frustration.

“W-what were you and the others planning on doing tonight?” Connor blurted out eventually, and winced when he realized that it had no relevance to the question Josh had just asked about Sumo.

Josh favored him with a small smile and Connor looked away quickly, self-conscious.

“We were thinking about just watching a movie,” Josh said conversationally. “North gets testy when we try to talk work on Saturday nights, and movies aren’t something any of us except Markus have a lot of experience with. It’s nice.” Josh considered. “Well, Simon knows some, but they’re mostly for kids.”

He sounded very pleased, Connor thought, and it made sense. All of them were still working on finding their footing in a world that, while not exactly safe, was no longer quite so actively attacking them.

“What kinds of movies?” Connor ventured after a moment, still stiff and nervous despite his own best efforts.

“Well, North likes action movies, of course,” Josh said with a roll of his eyes. “The more violence, the better. Simon likes the absolute trashiest romances-”

“Can we try one of those?” Connor asked without thinking, and cringed as he realized he’d interrupted Josh, who was blinking at him, startled. He ducked his head. “Sorry.”

They reached a door, and Josh pushed it open to go through, bemused gaze still lingering on Connor. “I didn’t think you’d like that sort of thing – I kind of figured you’d be on North’s side, honestly.”

Before Connor had a chance to answer, Markus called out, “Connor, Josh, hello!”

Connor started and shrank in on himself a little, irrationally startled, and he lingered back to examine the room while Josh talked to Markus. It was nothing special, certainly nothing to indicate it was in one of the most important buildings in Detroit – an old TV system and a couple of battered couches, one of which Markus and Simon were sharing, and one of which had North flung over most of it, tossing her ball in the air with an aura of general impatience. When she caught Connor looking, she raised a lazy hand in greeting, and he relaxed a little and nodded back.

Connor would never tell any of them this, but he was by far the most comfortable with North out of any of them. It wasn’t that she was the least suspicious – she’d actually been by far the most so for over a month – but they were… more alike, than the others.

Connor wasn’t sure he could ever be truly comfortable with Josh when his first instinct when he was scared was still, after all this time he’d been deviant, to lash out with all of the prowess of his combat program. Even if he didn’t usually do it. (Usually. Hank had, once, almost gotten a black eye from startling him.)

It was a little better with Markus, who was patient and calm but certainly had the resolve to fight if he ever needed it, and Simon, who would fight if he thought it was the only way out. But not much.

They could, and if they really had to they would, but they didn’t hurt people like he did. And there was nothing Connor could do to match that.

Connor left Markus and Josh to go perch on the end of North’s couch. “Josh said you like action movies,” he said without preamble, glancing at the still-off television screen.

North grinned at him. “They’re better than anything else we can find. You joining me on that?”

Connor shrugged. He’d liked comedies so far, but he actually hadn’t explored much beyond what Hank had insisted he see yet.

“He actually asked for one of Simon’s bad romances,” Josh provided with a grin, apparently catching their conversation. Connor heated up, embarrassed, and Simon beamed at him, bright and sparkling.

“Oh my god, why,” North said with exaggerated affront, and this time Connor had to fight his grin down.

“I’m just exploring the idea,” he protested, focusing deliberately on North’s exasperated expression to avoid the reactions of the three others. “I’ve been curious about the idea of romance since shortly before Valentine’s Day. I haven’t had much exposure to it in any form.”

North’s nose wrinkled with a more genuine displeasure, though it wasn’t specifically directed at him. “Who fucking needs that anyway,” she muttered.

Both his eyebrows rising, Connor glanced at Markus inquisitively. He didn’t disappoint.

“North and I broke up last month,” he explained, with only a small amount of regret in his voice. “Things were getting… let’s say, a little too intense.”

“He means we argued so much that we made up more than we got along,” North clarified, not quite bitter but definitely irritated. “Not exactly life partner material.” She threw a look over her shoulder. “Should’ve gone with Josh after all.”

Connor was confused until Josh objected, “Just because Markus swings that way doesn’t mean I do.”

“Thanks, guys,” Markus said, wearily enough that even North looked briefly apologetic. He glanced at Connor and elaborated with a wry smile, “I had a crush on Josh too, during the revolution, but that was kind of a dead end and there wasn’t exactly time to think about it anyway.”

Connor glanced between the four of them slowly, playing catch up. “You’re bisexual,” he concluded at last, unable to help a spark of interest.

Markus’ smile eased, his shoulders dropping, and he nodded. “Something like that. Josh is straight, though, and North is…”

“Working on it,” North finished for him, audibly dismissive. “Not.”

Understandable.

Connor considered this for a moment, glancing between them, but was interrupted before he could finish processing; he was finding himself a little tongue-tied. Possibly Hank’s embarrassment concerning the topic was infectious.

“Oh no,” Simon said suddenly, with slow-dawning dismay. “I didn’t even think about it.”

Josh twisted to stare at him, distracted. “You love romance.”

“That’s other people,” Simon explained earnestly, looking distressed. Connor almost smiled.

“I’m just curious,” he said, as honestly as he could. He was probably straight, according to Ben and some of Hank’s own implications, but they all sounded so confident that he didn’t feel secure enough to actually say so.

Markus smiled at him, and Connor averted his eyes, embarrassed. “That’s fine. I’m sure there’s quite a lot of androids who haven’t even started thinking about romance just yet.”

Connor smiled a little, some of the tension draining out of him, and North cleared her throat loudly.

“Okay, but let’s get back to the point,” she said loudly. “Which is, there’s no way I’m sitting through another goddamn Hallmark movie.”

Simon made a low protesting noise, and Connor deflated a little, though he hadn’t really expected his request to make an impact anyway.

“Compromise,” Josh said firmly. “I’m sure we can find an action movie with a romance subplot.”

“Yeah, like we can find one without one,” North grumbled.

“But what do you and Markus like?” Connor asked earnestly, leaning forward to listen even as Josh went to join Markus and Simon on the other couch.

“Fantasy, mostly,” Josh confessed with a shrug. “I’m a little tired of history, if I’m honest.” There was a touch of humor to his tone, and Connor nodded his understanding. “And Markus likes the indie stuff.”

“It’s creative,” Markus said defensively, and Connor had to laugh.

----------

Tina wasn’t sure when Connor had picked up the habit of bringing everyone coffee toward the end of the workday, but it had certainly endeared him to the rest of the precinct. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was always finished a good hour before the rest of them. If he wasn’t bringing them coffee, he’d just spend the end of the day fidgeting restlessly, or else he’d start on the backlog of paperwork that had never gotten done.

It was around that time of day again and Connor appeared from the breakroom with a labeled paper cup for each of them, bringing it around – first to Hank, who had certain privileges as Connor’s blatant favorite. Then Ben, and Tina made grabby hands when Connor came by her that made him visibly bite down a smile.

Connor bypassed Gavin entirely, which made him scowl, and Tina saw Connor cast a lightning-quick glance over his shoulder to smirk at the man’s reaction. He gave one to Chris, to Wilson, to Person, and he only came around back to Gavin once he’d given one to every other officer waiting.

Gavin’s coffee, it developed, was labeled ‘Rat Man’. Tina hid a grin behind her fist, and Gavin’s outrage grew visibly.

“You got something to say to me, tin can?” Gavin demanded of Connor, who raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve heard some of the other officers refer to you as such,” he said innocently, eyes glittering. “There’s really no reason for me not to do the same.”

Gavin shook the coffee angrily at Connor and swore as some of it splashed onto his hand. “Don’t act like you don’t fucking know what you’re saying, you plastic piece of shit! I’m not gonna take this disrespect when I make sergeant!”

“Then I’ll be sure to keep it out of your hearing when you finally achieve that rank,” Connor said mildly. “Which may be easier if you stop giving yourself coffee burns.”

Gavin looked Connor in the eye and swallowed down several gulps of what Tina knew to be boiling hot coffee without flinching. He paused for a few minutes, probably waiting for the pain to die down, and then said roughly, “Fuck you. I’ll be there before you are, blue blood.”

Connor looked away quickly, borderline flustered and genuine amusement pulling at his mouth, and shrugged. Tina, unlike Gavin, was in perfect position to see his LED flash yellow for a few seconds before returning to blue, and she didn’t have time to be concerned before Connor said lightly,

“You’d probably find last week’s Kendelson case very interesting, Detective. There are some distinct similarities in execution and profiling, if you want to take a look.” His eyes flashed back to a squinting Gavin, smirking just a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.”

Then he took off back to his desk, settling by Hank again before Gavin could reply. Gavin stared after him for a minute, brow furrowed, and then shrugged, shaking his head like he was throwing off a fly.

Tina waited for Gavin to take another drink before saying, tone conversational, “You know if you break his baby gay heart, Anderson is going to kill you and we’ll never find your body.”

Gavin choked, which was exactly what she’d been hoping for.

“What the fuck? Connor’s not gay and he doesn’t have a fucking crush on me!”

Tina waited. She and Gavin were two of the few queer officers in the precinct, and she was sure he could pick up on Connor’s signals as well as she could. Gavin stared straight ahead, thinking, and then, sure enough, his jaw dropped.

“Oh fuck,” Gavin said, with genuine dawning horror. “He’s gay and he has a crush on me. Tina, don’t you fucking dare tell him.”

Tina grinned. “You should probably go pick that case up. Connor’s usually right about these things.”

“I hate you so fucking much,” Gavin said fervently, and then he stood up and headed for the records room.

--------

It was hard for Connor to find hobbies, especially in a city that had only in the last month or two began to settle into a new rhythm after the revolution. But he thought he was managing well enough, with some help from Hank and occasionally from Markus or Simon.

The animal shelter had been Simon’s idea; Connor loved animals, liked being productive, and the animal shelters had in many cases never actually left, only become severely understaffed, owing to the difficulty of transporting so many animals on such short notice. It had quickly become one of Connor’s favorite places, and he tried to go there at least every two weeks, if not every Saturday, helping to herd and entertain the dogs while the actual caretakers did their jobs.

He almost always found that he’d stayed longer than he’d meant to – he simply enjoyed himself too much, cooing to the dogs and coaxing the shyer ones into playing just as hard as the loud ones. It was a good way to de-stress after a week of police work; even Hank had commented after the first couple times he went.

All of this was to say – when he went to the shelter, and found himself struggling to focus on the dogs, he noticed.

Connor had quickly gotten to know all of the employees there, just as they’d gotten to know him, with how regularly he came around and how recognizable he was. He knew that Jeanine liked the cats better, that Kenneth was a bit of a worrywart, that Penny had been suspicious of him the first few times he came but had warmed up quickly when she saw him fawn over the dogs.

The first thing Connor thought when he saw the new boy opening the kennels was that he was very, very cute, and it wasn’t until the dogs were barking at his feet that he remembered that he had a task to perform.

“Hello,” he greeted awkwardly, kneeling to hold out his hands to the dogs and let them recognize him and his scent; it often took them a minute, since he didn’t smell like any human, but they always got there quickly. They were very smart.

The boy started, glanced over, and smiled. “Oh, hey- Connor, right?”

Connor nodded, looking down. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before. When did you start?”

“Just last week,” the boy said cheerfully, moving on to the next kennel. Connor glanced up and thought he liked the boy’s smile. It looked like it came easy. “A lot easier to get jobs in Detroit now that so many people have moved out- uh.” He seemed to think that over for a moment, and then glanced gingerly over at Connor.

Connor smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m sure,” he agreed. “What’s your name?”

The boy relaxed. “Jacob, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a bit about you from the others.”

Connor let an embarrassed grin slip onto his face. “I like dogs,” he said, and then realized that was rather redundant. But Jacob laughed.

“I’ve heard,” he said.

And perhaps that should have been it – but Connor kept getting distracted, watching Jacob lead the dogs away one by one to look them over, weigh them, and scrub them down, just the ordinary routine that every other worker did once a week. Connor caught him cooing to the dogs, too, well within Connor’s sensitive hearing, fond and friendly and gentle, and didn’t realize he’d gotten distracted until one of the ones near him shoved their cold nose against his palm insistently.

He felt unaccountably nervous. Not frightened, but rather, he realized, excited, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Jacob was just a boy, with a nice smile and a talent for handling dogs – so why did he have so much of Connor’s attention?

And then Connor remembered how Tina had described a crush to him, and wondered.

---------

The first thing Connor did when he looked up and met Chloe’s eyes was flex his hands, closing them into fists and then opening them again, something uncomfortable deep in his chest.

But they were empty. Of course they were. Androids still were not technically allowed to handle guns, and he was at work.

Chloe just gave him a small, almost understanding smile, and he had to wonder if she’d caught the motion. Either way, she bypassed everyone else to stand by his desk, hands clasped neatly behind her and apparently unconcerned by her environment and the stares she was getting.

She was alone, Connor noticed, and appeared more animated than she had at Kamski’s villa. He wondered why.

“Hello,” he said at last, for lack of anything better to say.

“Hello,” Chloe returned lightly. “It’s good to see you, Connor. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take a short break to talk to me for a while.”

Connor stared at her uncertainly, mouth pinched. He had no objections himself, of course, but he couldn’t help but want to know why she’d even want to speak to him. He certainly wouldn’t, after he’d come so terribly close to shooting her in cold blood.

When he glanced over to Hank for support, though, the man just made a small shooing motion at him. There was something odd about his expression, though Connor was too uncomfortable to take the time to decipher it just now.

Ben, on the other hand, gave him a wink, which just made Connor more uncomfortable, and Chris gave him a small and reassuring grin. Tina appeared to be laughing silently, eyes bright, and Gavin rolled his eyes, long and exaggerated.

Eventually, Connor just turned his gaze back to Chloe and nodded slowly.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Give me just a moment to finish, please.”

Chloe nodded, and waited patiently as he added the last few strokes to his report and closed his terminal. Then he stood up and followed her out the door, confused and nervous in a much more familiar and anxious way.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, glancing at her once they were a few minutes down the block. “About… about before.” His throat was thick with stress.

Chloe just gave him an understanding look.

“It was a long time ago,” she said gently, “but I was a machine once too. I remember what it was like… and all I was programmed to do was take calls and file paperwork.”

Connor clenched his jaw, trying to master the wave of guilt before it choked him.

“Elijah never thought you were going to shoot,” Chloe added kindly when he remained silent. “But… I wanted to thank you for not doing so, anyway. It must have been difficult.”

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for it,” Connor blurted out, terse with pain.

“I don’t,” Chloe corrected. “I’m choosing to.” Her gaze swept over the street, and her expression softened noticeably. “It helps that it’s you. I don’t think you know what it means to me, that I can wander around without pretending to be a machine. That alone would make up for quite a lot.”

“That wasn’t me at all,” Connor protested weakly. “That was mostly Markus.”

“It was,” Chloe agreed, which wasn’t a response Connor was at all used to but which was somehow comforting in and of itself. “But you certainly helped.” She glanced at Connor, warm. “It’s different for you. You’ve never known a time before androids walked the streets. But I was the first, and I remember. Connor, this is everything to me. It wouldn’t have happened without Markus, and it wouldn’t have happened without you either.”

She was right – Connor couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Even the dozens of old movies he’d seen, without any androids in them at all, background or otherwise, seemed like a different world, one that existed only in fiction.

After a minute, he decided to just accept it. He didn’t really need to understand why she’d forgiven him, anyway, and he probably never would one way or another.

“Thank you for forgiving me,” is what he settled on, stiff but sincere, and she gave him an understanding smile.

She hadn’t seemed this old when he’d seen her before; it made him feel quite young by comparison, in a way he wasn’t really used to. But then, he supposed, she’d probably been pretending to be a machine then. Plausible deniability, on her part or on Kamski’s, or both. Chloe must have had quite a lot of time to grow and develop.

What came out of his mouth next surprised him. “May I ask you a sensitive question?”

Chloe paused for only a split second, apparently surprised, and then nodded. “Certainly, but I reserve the right not to answer.”

“You seem… comfortable with yourself,” he explained haltingly. “Which I assume is from having quite a lot of time to explore your own identity.” He paused for a split second, uncomfortable, and then pressed on. “How does one go about exploring their sexuality?”

Chloe’s surprise was almost audible, but there was a genuinely pondering look on her face as they turned around to head back towards the precinct, almost in unison.

“Is this a sex question or an identity question?” she asked at last.

Connor flushed. “The latter,” he said quickly.

Chloe was quiet for a few more moments as they walked. “Why are you asking me, out of anyone?” she asked eventually.

Connor shrugged uncomfortably.

“We only have a passing acquaintance,” he explained slowly, hesitantly. “So you’re essentially impartial. You’ve had more time to explore yourself than any other android I know, including Markus, since he’s been a deviant for so little time. I thought… if I could ask anyone, I could ask you and not suffer too many repercussions.”

Chloe nodded, slow and thoughtful.

“I realized I was aromantic a while back,” she said matter-of-factly, head tilted to watch him. He ran a search on the term and nodded his understanding, and she continued, “It took quite a while. At first I thought I was maybe too young to be getting crushes, and I hadn’t developed that far yet. Then I thought it was because I had too little exposure to the outside world. Who was I going to get a crush on, Elijah?” She rolled her eyes, and Connor had to smile a little. “But that wasn’t it either. I just wasn’t interested, not even in the idea.”

She stopped for a minute, and he let her think. They were almost halfway back to the precinct now.

“So my experience might be a bit different,” she continued, with a small smile. “But I’d suggest you give serious thought to who you’d want to be in a relationship with, not just who you think you’re supposed to. If you have to force it, it’s probably not right.”

Connor hummed uncertainly. He understood her words, but…

Well. It just didn’t seem like it would be that simple.

She caught his eye and smiled.

“You can kiss me if you want to try,” she said carelessly, eyes glittering with something like amusement. “I wouldn’t mind – it’s not like I get the chance often.”

Connor considered that for a moment, and briefly imagined his lips against hers, the way he’d seen other people do, bodies pressed together just a little-

“No thank you,” he said hastily, and she quite rightfully laughed at him.

His smile came out embarrassed, but he didn’t take it back.

----------

Hank got his first clue when Connor started to put LGBTQ documentaries on the television whenever he had a chance.

It had initially surprised Hank that Connor was lingering this long over the idea of romance, but in hindsight it shouldn’t have; Connor had thus far chosen to explore his identity in phases. He’d explored clothes and colors and decorations all together, and games with movies and outings, and technological history over the course of a week with nearly unbreakable focus – once he hit on a new problem, he worked at it until he was satisfied. There was no reason that this would be any different.

Maybe the real reason Hank was so confused was that he hadn’t expected it to take this long.

And one or two might have been attributed to Connor talking to others, but after Connor put on the fifth that month, watching intently, Hank started to get the idea. He was a police detective for a reason, after all. A long time ago, he’d been a borderline prodigy.

It wasn’t that Hank hadn’t ever thought about it before.

Well, that was almost a lie. It hadn’t occurred to him to think about Connor coming out. But he’d thought about Cole, and remembered how his parents, so long ago, had reacted to his lesbian sister. And he’d remembered how he hadn’t spoken more than a few words to his sister in decades because of that.

“I remember the day gay marriage got legalized,” he said conversationally, and Connor started, turning to him with wide and curious eyes. Hank shrugged at him. “I honestly didn’t even know it was up for vote at the time, but I woke up that morning and there were rainbows all over the internet. Rainbow drinks, rainbow food, rainbow clothes, hell, public buildings lit up in rainbow colors to celebrate. People were talking about it all over, hashtag lovewins – that one stuck around for a while, people loved it.”

Connor tilted his head, the exact same curious gesture he always made. “What did you think?” he asked.

“Well, at first I figured it was pretty cool, but it didn’t really have that much to do with me,” Hank said casually. The memory came easily; he’d been pretty self-absorbed then, focused on his own ambitions. Heh. “But then Jeffrey called me.”

“You were already friends back then,” Connor said, thoughtful, and it wasn’t always obvious how young Connor was but times like this, so surprised that he and Jeffrey had been friends twenty years ago when they were both over fifty years old, it kind of showed.

“We joined the force around the same time,” Hank agreed. “We’d been friends for almost a decade at that point – nothing like now, obviously. Anyway, he wanted to know what I thought of it too, and I told him basically what I told you. As soon as I was done, he came out to me.” He caught Connor’s startled expression and had to grin. “Yeah- he doesn’t spread it around, but he’s not in the closet either. He says he’s married to his work, but that’s an inside joke – his husband’s an ex-con.”

That surprised a genuine laugh out of Connor, rare enough that it made Hank grin too.

“I’ve heard it a thousand times,” he tacked on, leaning back and noticing the Connor had at some point paused the documentary. “It’s not even funny anymore, frankly.”

“I don’t know, it’s certainly funny to me,” Connor disagreed, giving Hank a small grin, and Hank snorted.

“You’ve got bad taste in humor, son.”

He’d have to introduce Connor to Brooklyn 99 later. He’d love it.

---------

New Jericho didn’t have a gym, exactly, but there was a large room spread with padding on one of the lower floors, which served essentially the same purpose – androids didn’t need to work out, of course, but some of them liked to.

Connor only ever used it when he was teaching North the forms from his combat programs, but he had it on good authority that she used it whenever she got the chance. Especially to practice, but for other things as well, moving just to feel her servos whir and her artificial tendons stretch.

He was running her through one of his favorite sets, meant to unbalance and knock down an enemy, when Markus appeared, striding through the doors like he was at home here as anywhere else, and maybe he was.

“Connor!” he called out, and he sounded pleased. “I’ve been looking for you! I should have known you were in here.”

Connor’s running explanation to North broke off into stutters, and in the middle of a motion, he faltered, tipped, and then fell, landing hard on the ground in a daze. Mortified, he scrambled up back to his feet and swung around to look at Markus, who was smiling at him, clearly amused and warmly affectionate.

Connor hadn’t understood the term ‘his heart skipped a beat’ before. He did now.

“A-ah, hello, Markus,” he greeted, fidgeting as he tried to calm his embarrassment. “What did you need?”

“I wanted to check on you,” Markus admitted shamelessly, coming closer. “I’m glad you and North get along so well – and I heard you spoke to Chloe recently?”

Connor nodded quickly, and the two of them spoke for a few more minutes – Markus eventually confessed that he’d wanted to know how Connor’s work environment had been so far, and Connor explained what he could, which he felt was embarrassingly little. He wasn’t always particularly good at picking up on everything he should, in a social environment, and he didn’t have answers to all of Markus’ questions. Markus assured him it was fine, but Connor was still rather embarrassed, and he kept fidgeting until Markus smiled at him again and left the way he’d come.

“North,” he whispered as soon as Markus left, feeling stunned, “I think I’m gay.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” North agreed, with clear amusement.

---------

Once the realization had finally hit Connor in its entirety, it seemed obvious. The nervousness around many of his closer male friends, the constant curiosity that led him to ask relationship questions that seemed to surprise some of the others, the disinterest in women that he’d noticed almost from the start- it made sense.

It also felt like a secret that stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t help but remember Ben’s apologetic correction, most couples are.

He should come out to Hank first. He was closer to Hank than essentially anyone, and he knew, from the conversation he and Hank had had before, that Hank would most likely be okay with it.

But he found himself anxious. It sometimes felt like Hank was all he had, and the very last thing he wanted to do was to risk alienating him. Irrationally, despite everything – or perhaps because of everything – he worried that this would be the final straw.

The first time it occurred to him to talk to Captain Fowler, he dismissed it entirely. While Fowler and Hank were good friends, the man still made Connor a little nervous, as such a significant and direct authority figure. Besides which, they didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Then the thought occurred to him again, and again, his mind wandering back to it periodically – almost every time the topic came up, including twice when Hank asked why he’d so suddenly stopped talking about it.

Eventually, he gave in and awkwardly suggested that Hank go on ahead – he wanted to talk to Captain Fowler about something before they left. It wasn’t even technically a lie. Hank gave him a weird look, but went on easily enough.

Connor waited another minute or two once he’d gone, working up his nerves, and then went to knock on Fowler’s office door. He waited for permission, and then went inside.

Captain Fowler was packing up for the day, but he turned to Connor as he entered, one eyebrow raised. “Connor,” he greeted briskly. “What is it that couldn’t wait for tomorrow?”

Connor fidgeted, and Fowler’s eyebrow raised further.

“Captain,” he said at last, uncomfortable. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Fowler stared at him.

“Hank warned me about your personal questions,” he said at last, sardonic, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Then, “Sure, shoot.”

Connor swallowed, letting his gaze fall to the ground, and hesitated long enough for Fowler to clear his throat impatiently.

“Do you… have any advice, about coming out?” he asked, soft and so embarrassed that his voice was only a little louder than a whisper.

There was a long moment of complete silence, and Connor tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Coming out,” Fowler said slowly, almost incredulously. “As LGBT?”

Connor nodded without looking up.

“You know I’m married to my work,” Fowler said, with no hint that it was a joke at all. Still, Connor smiled a little.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your husband is an ex-con.”

Fowler snorted, and another long, interminable minute passed. It occurred to Connor, belatedly, that Hank may have been messing with him.

“Sure,” Fowler said finally, and Connor started, looking up with more surprise than he wanted to admit to. Fowler didn’t quite look sympathetic, but he certainly appeared more forgiving than he had a minute ago, if still a little bemused. He dropped back into his chair, and gestured for Connor to sit in the one across from him. “I assume you heard I’m gay from Hank, he’s one of maybe three people that know that joke – he tell you how I came out?”

Connor shook his head. “Only that you did it the day gay marriage was initially legalized.”

“It made for a good opener,” Fowler agreed, and he seemed to be settling into the conversation, arms crossing. “Ideally, you’d test the waters first, see where they stand before you go all-in. Have you talked to Hank yet? I mean, I assume this is about Hank first and foremost.”

“Not about… me,” Connor said hesitantly, still fidgeting with his sleeve. But it was reassuring, Fowler’s easy acceptance – and, for some reason, the fact that he’d taken it for granted that Hank was that important to Connor, that Connor would be thinking of him. “But I’d been watching some documentaries, and he talked about his stance then.”

Fowler huffed a little, and Connor thought he might’ve been amused.

“Hank’s not a bad guy,” he said grudgingly. “It sounds like he handled that part for you, maybe on purpose.” He shrugged. “Once I knew where he stood, I told him I was glad I’d be able to get married now. It’s a little easier to be blunt, if you can bring yourself to.”

Connor could be blunt; Hank complained rather often that he was too much so.

“And if I… didn’t want to?” he asked, uncertain despite himself.

Fowler sighed, but he didn’t seem resentful; instead, he settled in, and they kept talking.

---------

Connor made dinner for Hank most days, when he could get away with it, so that seemed like the obvious place to start: he made something nicer than usual, with less mind to nutritional information and more to Hank’s tastes, and waited for him to be most of the way done before he spoke.

Hank seemed to pick up on his mood, maybe because he couldn’t completely stop his LED from flickering nervously every so often, and he ate scrolling absently through his phone instead of fielding Connor���s usual conversation.

“Hank,” Connor said at last, his strain not quite coming through to his voice, “may I tell you something personal?”

Hank shut off his phone immediately, flipped it so the screen faced down, and raised an eyebrow at Connor. “That’s new,” he said mildly. Connor’s expression pinched a little, and his face immediately took on an apologetic cast and he waved Connor on.

Connor fidgeted, weaving his coin around and around his fingers, rocking slightly with his feet tucked under him.

“I talked to Chloe,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat and spoke a little clearer, though without looking at Hank. “About, ah, exploring one’s identity, since she has the most experience – she had some good advice, I think, and I’ve been… thinking.”

He faltered again, but Hank didn’t move to interrupt, though one eyebrow had crooked up a little. He’d stopped eating, but when Connor’s gaze flickered down again, he resumed.

“I react differently to North than the other Jericho leaders,” he said, and he knew it was a touch scattered, didn’t entirely make sense, but he couldn’t help it; all of his careful scripting seemed to have deleted itself. “I understand some of it, but there’s no reason for me to get so flustered around them and not around North. And there was that worker at the animal shelter, and it was so strange that I was so easily distracted…”

He was fidgeting harder even as he trailed off, one hand coming up to tug at his ear, which was a new one. It was always hard for Connor to come to terms with any part of his identity, let alone one which was supposed to be so big.

Hank didn’t seem to be silently laughing at him, which was a blessing, but he wasn’t otherwise reacting either.

Fowler had suggested he be blunt, if he could.

“I think I’m gay,” he said at last, gaze intent on the table. “Most likely. It’s, um, consistent with everything I’ve noticed so far.”

And then he fell silent. After a few moments, he heard Hank put his fork down and glanced up anxiously. Hank looked contemplative, gaze piercing in a way that was unique to him. Connor analyzed his expression, and he didn’t seem dubious, or irritated or… anything but pensive.

“Whatever you figure makes you happy, kid,” Hank said at last, and his eyes crinkled into a fond and faintly amused expression he took on mostly when he thought Connor was overcomplicating something simple. “You know I ain’t gonna hold anything like that against you.”

Connor beamed at him, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders like a weight falling away.

“I know,” he said sincerely, because for all his worries he’d never really expected that Hank would be angry.

---------

Almost a month after Connor came out to Hank, Alicia finally made her move, after several months of flustered conversation and furtive looks.

She caught Connor just at the end of the work day, by his desk as he was packing up. It wasn’t quite the first time, so he paused, giving her a faintly expectant look. She was pink, barely enough to be noticeable, but she seemed more determined than usual, he thought.

“Hey, Connor,” Alicia said, her tone a touch lower and quicker than it was talking to anyone else. “Would you like to meet after work, um, at that android-run coffee shop? Blue Bean Café? I know they have some good thirium drinks they recently put up for sale.”

Connor hesitated, watching her for a long moment.

“As a date?” he clarified. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hank go still, watching Connor to see how he’d react.

She nodded quickly, eyes hopeful.

He considered, tugging lightly at his social protocols for help until he finally came to a decision.

“I’m sorry, Alicia,” he said apologetically, deliberately keeping his focus on her to the exclusion of anyone else. “I recently concluded that I’m gay, so going out with you would be under quite false pretenses.” He smiled at her gently, trying to be reassuring even as his chest squeezed nervously. “But your suggestion was very thoughtful. I appreciate it.”

Alicia blinked rapidly, and Connor winced as he saw the dawn of humiliation start to appear in her eyes before she visibly forced it down and gave him a strained smile.

“Oh dear, that’s embarrassing for me,” she said, with a clear attempt at good humor. “I should have guessed, all the best ones usually are. Thanks for telling me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be rude,” Connor demurred, belying himself by glancing furtively at the rest of the bullpen. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alicia.”

“Yeah,” she agreed rapidly, glancing away, and didn’t quite run off but she did walk rather quickly.

As soon as she was gone, Tina yelled, “You owe me twenty bucks, Collins!”

“God damn it,” Ben muttered, and Connor’s wince eased into a faint smile. He’d be alright.

Hank clapped him on the back, apparently coming to the same conclusion. “Thirium drinks, huh? In the mood to celebrate?”

Connor glanced around, and no one seemed overly concerned. From the door of his office, Fowler gave him a small nod, and Tina and Reed seemed to be exchanging money as well, Reed scowling faintly.

“Maybe,” he allowed after a moment, glancing at Hank. “If you don’t mind.”

“Anything to break you out of your rut, kid,” Hank jabbed. “God knows you need the help.”

“I do not,” Connor objected. “I’m doing just fine.”

There was a pause.

“Yeah,” Hank agreed at last. “I guess you are.”

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream - Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker

Star Wars is a franchise very near and dear to my heart. I’ve grown up watching the films and have fond memories of each of them, in particular Revenge of the Sith, which I got to see in theaters with my father. It’s a series that has introduced me to great characters, great actors, great ways to tell stories, and if nothing else the movies were always fun. I never saw a Star Wars movie I couldn’t enjoy on some level.

That all changed with this movie.

The Rise of Skywalker is a wet fart of a finale. It is a mess, it is underwhelming, it is disrespectful to the previous two films, and worst of all it’s bland. But hyperbole aside, this movie isn’t a complete and utter waste; it’s certainly not the worst film of all time or anything, or even the worst Star Wars movie. It’s just a sad case of a mixed bag where the bag skews more to the bad side than the good side.

Let’s go over what I actually did enjoy first. Obviously, the score was fantastic, but I think this goes without saying; John Williams has never once screwed around, so why would he stop now? His music honestly does a lot of the heavy lifting emotion-wise, as scenes such as the supposed trinity of this trilogy’s reunion at the end would not have any sort of impact otherwise. Then we have stuff like the practical effects, which is both a blessing and a curse as they seem to be a sort of dancing bear for this trilogy. As great and lively as they make the worlds, they shouldn’t be what gets focus over story and character development… but hey, Babu Frik is great.

Speaking of characters, there are a few who were handled very well in this film. In terms of comedy, there is C-3PO and Palpatine. C-3PO is just a genuine riot here, and almost every goofy little joke he cracked gave me a genuine chuckle. He’s really at his best here. Palpatine on the other hand is just a character who is so inherently hilarious that it is physically impossible to be mad at him. Like, he’s an evil zombie wizard who spends half the film insulting Kylo Ren and then the other half cackling and shooting lightning in his big arena full of hooded weirdos while strapped to a big dialysis machine and wearing a sparkling red vest under his robe. Sheev Palpatine is pretty much the greatest character in human history, and while his role in this film is so stupid, shoehorned, and underbaked, you cannot help but crack a grin at the sheer lunacy good ol’ Sheev brings to the table. The sheer revelation that this man actually, canonically had more sex than Kylo Ren is enough to send a man into a fit of giggles.

In terms of actual character, Rey gets a solid arc marred by some incredibly poor writing choices, but overall stays solid throughout. Her interactions with Kylo Ren especially solidify her as an interesting and engaging character, and honestly the whole reveal that she’s a Palpatine is intriguing and could have added depth to her… but they managed to bungle it. And it’s an easy fix too; early on, there’s a scene where she and Kylo are playing tug-of-war with a transporter that is holding an iconic character. Rey accidentally unleashes Palpatine lightning and blows it up, seemingly killing the character inside… only for the character to inexplicably be alive two scenes later. Now, if Rey had actually killed said character by accident and spent the rest of the film struggling with her nature, it would make her ultimate showdown and rejection of Grandpa Sheev’s ideology all the more sweeter and satisfying. A moment at the end would have likewise been improved if she had simply not chosen to rename herself and instead chose to just simply be “Rey,” but gotta have that sweet, sweet branding! Still, I think Rey is remarkably done here, though not nearly as good as she was in The Last Jedi.

But the real MVP here is definitely Adam Driver as Kylo Ren. I’m just gonna say it: this guy carries the film. He has had the most remarkably consistent character arc in this new trilogy, and that concludes just as well here, though sadly in the most obvious way: with a redemption. However, it comes not from Rey, as desperate shippers had hoped, but from his parents – Leia and Han both play a part in ensuring their son’s redemption. And when he’s redeemed, the way Driver is able to convey the character of Ben Solo with just his face and body language is incredible enough to make the redeemed man feel like a totally different character than when he was Kylo Ren, and all of this is without speaking. Driver deserves every ounce of praise he gets for these films, and while I feel his arc would have been far more satisfying if it wasn’t a carbon copy of Anakin’s arc, it’s a testament to Driver’s skill that he managed to sell me such a cliché turn of events and made it work.

This is where my kindness dries up, however, as the rest of this is going to be pretty negative. The story here is just an incoherent mess; it honestly feels like an entire trilogy crammed into one film, a film divorced entirely from the other two films. The big problem with this trilogy is how there is so little cohesion between films that each film feels like a soft reset, and nowhere is that more clear than here. It doesn’t help that this film decides to cram in a bunch of stupid backspaces to everything from The Last Jedi, the most awkward and egregious being how they write off the “Holdo Maneuver” as a one in a million shot at success despite the fact that using the far more obvious “using the rebels as suicide bombers is a bit morally iffy and such a move should not be used unless we’re totally desperate” explanation would have sufficed. It honestly feels like the writers were chickening out a lot of the time and decided to try and distract us from their yellow-bellied attempts at ignoring the previous film by slapping us in the face with tons of fanservice. Sometimes it works – the voices of all the fallen Jedi in the final act was an awesome touch (I hear you Qui-Gon, Windu, and Ahsoka!) - but most of them time it is just painfully on-the-nose and groan worthy, such as when Chewbacca gets his medal. The worst offender here is Lando, who is so carelessly tossed into this mess of a plot that it feels really disrespectful to Billy Dee Williams.

Speaking of screwing over characters though, no one got it worse than Finn, Poe, and Rose. With Rose, it’s frankly just insulting they didn’t even try. It would have been so easy to redeem Rose in the eyes of the fans that didn’t like her character in The Last Jedi; if The Clone Wars can make Jar Jar a likable character, then I’m pretty sure a big budget Hollywood blockbuster can fix the issues of a poorly written character in its sequel. Instead though, this film takes the coward’s route and relegates Rose to a role less important to the plot than Babu Frik, who despite his integral role is only in one single scene. Poe is just handled as nonsensically as ever, given really dumb jokes and a forced and unneeded backstory as a spice smuggler, complete with an implied female love interest in an attempt to try and convince us the character is heterosexual.

But Finn gets it worst of all. Not only does he get a forced implied love interest (who is black, because we can’t have miscegenation in our big blockbuster films!), but he just in general gets shafted so hard. Finn being shafted has been a running theme with this trilogy. The first film set him up to be an integral, important main character, one who would even become the main character…. And then he slowly faded from relevance as the writers put him in increasingly bad plotlines, culminating with the slap in the face this movie gives us by implying but not outright stating that Finn can use the Force. There were so many interesting ways they could take Finn’s arc and they chose the route that is, quite frankly, the absolute worst. The fact that Finn got totally shafted in such a way despite being a fan favorite is all the more baffling and honestly has me wondering what the suits at Disney were thinking. If they weren’t actually minimizing a character as beloved as Finn was after The Force Awakens out of racism, what were they even trying to do? John Boyega has a right to be as angry as he is.

There’s other stuff that’s obnoxious. Leia’s scenes are all terrible and poorly executed, which comes off as really disrespectful to Carrie Fisher; the romance in this film which, as mentioned above, is totally forced, but special mention goes to the Ben/Rey kiss at the end, which while not some life-ending travesty is so utterly out of nowhere due to the lack of romantic chemistry between the two in any of these films that it’s laughable; the editing is so incoherent and terrible in places that it feels like it was done by someone on a mixture of crack and Red Bull; the complete waste that is Hux and his childish reasoning for betraying the First Order, completing the character’s change from a terrifying Nazi allegory to a complete and utter joke; the fact that the new First Order general who takes center stage gets so little development despite being a great throwback to Grand Moff Tarkin and a genuinely amazing character otherwise, with a fascinating history with Palpatine that is never explored and no meaningful interactions with the heroes; the complete and utter unexplained nature of Palpatine’s return; and just how painfully unfunny a lot of the humor in this film is. This movie just has so many problems, so many flaws, and it ends on such a completely limp and unsatisfying note that it’s honestly kind of sad.

This film… I don’t know about this film. It’s definitely not the worst Star Wars film, because it at least has some genuinely good bits to it, unlike Attack of the Clones which I can only really justify liking ironically. But that being said, this film is just so unsatisfying, and what’s more, it’s not very memorable. Not much will stick with you with this one, and if it does, it might be more of the bad things rather than the good ones, which is a shame, because I do think there’s some good stuff buried under the garbage here, but I don’t know if it’s worth sitting through this film to find. This is not the worst thing ever, I really can’t stress that enough… but it’s just not fun, engaging, or anything that will really make you feel anything meaningful, and sometimes that’s just worse.

Ultimately, this film has an incredibly uncertain audience. It’s wrapping up a trilogy in one of the biggest franchises on earth with a plotline that tries to pander to fans in a way that feels gross and condescending, leaving the film feeling like it was made for absolutely no one. If you like this, that’s fine; Star Wars is a franchise that has greatness ingrained in its DNA, to the point where I can’t say any of the films are really among the worst I’ve ever seen. But I think generally this is not going to be a film worth watching, and certainly one to skip in any future marathons of the franchise. It really is a shame… this trilogy if nothing else was full of potential to be a new take on Star Wars for a new generation. Instead, it ended up as a confusing, corporate mess. 

[bigskydreaming]

Like, the thing you guys gotta understand is my loud opinions are far more defense mechanism than they are “I think I am right and nobody else is ever and people should listen to me only.”

Nah. They’re literally just me being as loud and as visible with the stuff that matters the most to me as is possible....because that actually minimizes the flack I catch for y’know...stuff I’m truly passionate about believing.

For example, my online behavior and tendencies in fandom on tumblr specifically....were largely shaped by my experiences in Teen Wolf fandom. Where I started out being as civil as possible wherever possible, and gradually got louder and angrier over time because THAT DIDN’T MATTER. Its why tone policing is bullshit, through and through. Because the real issue was never HOW I was saying what I was saying, it was what I was saying at all.

See, I flat out don’t like the fandom fave Stiles, as he’s portrayed on the show, and never did. Not from day one. He bothered the fuck out of me from the pilot. And this is a very controversial opinion in TW fandom, and was far more so back when I was first becoming ‘known’ in fandom, whatever the fuck that means or is even worth (seriously, its not worth a lot. You guys, stop putting so much weight in the visibility of more ‘well known’ bloggers....that doesn’t directly translate into the influence you think it does, especially when those bloggers are still holding what the majority of a fandom deems ‘unpopular’ opinions).

But back in my early TW days, I wasn’t really ‘known’ at all, for my blog and my opinions on the show. I was better known for my fics, which at the beginning, I was writing and updating fairly quickly. I’ve published somewhere just shy of 100,000 words of TW fanfic....and the vast majority of that was all written in just the first year or two in fandom.

And the thing is, for people who just found me on Ao3 and not on my blog originally....they weren’t as immediately aware of my bias against Stiles. Because I hate bashing ANY characters in fic. Even ones I don’t like, because the point of fanfic for me, is to FIX my personal issues with the source material, improve on the things *I* especially dislike....so even though I dislike Stiles on the show, in my better known TW fics, he was still present, and I was still trying to be as true to his core characterization as possible, WHILE addressing what I considered his core problem areas.

The kicker being.....a LOT of Stiles-fans LIKED my fanfic depiction of Stiles. A lot of S/terek fans included. You look at my TW fics like Where Wild Things Are or Lightning Crashes in particular....you’re gonna find a LOT of comments from self-proclaimed S/terek fans and Stiles stans....and those are just the ones I didn’t delete when I was forced to aggressively moderate my comments when a lot of those same commenters got loud and angry at me.

Which they did see....once they started connecting my Ao3 account to my blog, and my opinions on the show in general, which were starting to be more widespread in fandom due to some better known mutuals. I mean, its not like it was a big secret. My Ao3 pen name for my Teen Wolf fic is bigskydreamin’. It....wasn’t really anything I felt I needed to clarify, lmao.

But once people realized that the very same writer they liked for his take on Stiles very vocally disliked the show’s Stiles because of behaviors and scenes that I quote unquote deemed abusive (which I do, and stand by to this day).....they went fucking APESHIT on me. Like.....I can not even TELL you the extent of the nasty comments, anons, emails and reviews I got from some of the very same people who previously were glowing in their praise of my fics, especially the Stiles scenes.

All because I didn’t like the show’s depiction of certain behaviors and toxic dynamics, and set out to improve these things in my fic while being true to the characterizations....and which they had LIKED....until they realized my take didn’t come from a place of “oh I think Stiles is just the best.”

And then the fateful day came when one of them flat out asked me why I didn’t ship S/terek and if I would ever write S/terek....

And I had the balls to answer honestly. LOL. I wasn’t even insulting or offensive...just blunt. I told the person that I have serious issues with S/terek because of the power dynamics and the way they’re romanticized within fandom and most fics rather than called out and addressed, and I said I would never have any interest in tackling these topics myself in any kind of S/terek fic because my own past with abuse makes the ship just inherently unappealing to me because of how I perceive it, and I feel zero desire to ‘fix’ a thing I wouldn’t want on any level to begin with.

And they went and told all their friends and lol, RIP the rest of my TW years - and this was probably back in like, Year Two of my time in TW fandom. For a more accurate estimate, look for when I lost the will to update my big fics, because like. What was the point? Any positive reaction I got from updates at the time was just drowned out by the hate I got for adding to a story many of them were still reading, judging by the way my hit counts were still pretty steady with what they’d been with previous updates.....but that at the same time, they were heaping all kinds of shit on me for just....having opinions they didn’t like at the same time as I wrote stuff they still DID like.

The juxtaposition of those two things....lol. Man. Its a trip, I’ll tell you that.

And to be honest, the same thing has been happening ever since I started being more involved in Batfandom. You guys know how I reblog a lot of my own posts? That’s not something I used to do like, ever in TW fandom...because all the content I was making then was fresh. But I’ve always been a fan of Dick Grayson even while I was knee deep in TW fandom, so my longtime followers can tell you....I’ve been making these posts about him all along. A lot of my more popular Dick Grayson posts were written years ago, before I started getting active in this fandom....which only really happened over last summer. 

And the difference in TONE in a lot of my posts, is a lot of the ‘tamer’ posts.....which express the exact same viewpoints I have as in my more heated posts.....is because my ‘tamer’ posts were written as one-offs that I just wrote in passing while in a fandom that generally didn’t have any interest in my Batfamily musings....which did not at all stop me from still making those posts from time to time....because I don’t post ANYTHING for the sake of getting notes. Its literally just shit that’s on my mind, that I want to put out there for people to do whatever the hell they feel like doing with them. 

And so most of the posts I reblog, that seem more ‘mild’....its because I wrote them years ago, they got like maybe ten notes at the time, lol, and I’m reblogging them now because I have more of a platform and think they’d still be of interest to fans of that content specifically....but the stark tone difference is because when I wrote THOSE....nobody was jumping on my back the second I hit post to tell me how obviously wrong and stupid I was for not getting this or that or that and having this opinion on this character or just “caring too much about fictional characters.”

Like, you get what you give, people. You throw shit at me, eventually, I’m gonna start throwing shit back, and no, you don’t get to be pissed about that when all the evidence is there that I’m MORE than capable AND willing to have a good time just by myself....and more than happy to have people join in....as long as nobody’s being a douchebag. But if you get your douchebaggery on and start making my life hell....I’m gonna start raising my voice, because that shit fucking sucks.

The sheer vitriol I got for simply stating that I have no interest in writing a S/terek dynamic I see as inherently toxic due to the inherent power imbalances, BECAUSE of my own history as an abuse and rape survivor, which I was frank about.....it blows my mind. People are literally OFFENDED that in response to questions THEY asked me, I said....I do not like this thing, because of how it affects my feelings about my own trauma. 

Like, for years I have gotten monthly hatemail in my asks for spreading toxicity and hate through the TW fandom and ‘hurting real abuse/rape survivors by misleading people and calling S/terek pedophilic and misusing terms like that’....

And the utterly hilarious thing (in that not at all sort of way), is I have never ONCE called S/terek pedophilic, or anyone who ships it a pedophile. Never. Once!

You know why? Its not even because of my own personal view on whether or not that’s an accurate label for that ship....its because IT WASN’T EVEN RELEVANT TO THE SPECIFIC CRITICISMS I’VE ALWAYS FOCUSED ON MAKING.

Like, I literally never even got AROUND to expressing whether or not I thought that was a label that applies to that ship, because I’ve always had plenty of thoughts just purely on the specific power imbalances as I break them down in my view of that pairing....REGARDLESS of what you label those power imbalances. I don’t fucking CARE about the terminology. My concern has never once been what the fuck you call it, so I never made it ABOUT what anyone calls it, and purely focused on why I think it isn’t healthy just in specific terms.....and yes, pulled from my own personal experience and knowledge of abuse to back up why I feel that way, and to clarify why I feel so strongly about it.

But does any of this matter? Nope. Because all people cared about when directing hate my way for my oh so controversial opinions was not what was accurate to my views, but what was effective in discrediting them.

And the same shit is already happening in Batfandom, and its obnoxious, and tired, and yeah, its why I’m already kinda coming out of the gate hot and heavy, because within like....less than two months of me starting to post more regularly about Batfam specific content and getting some followers who have large fandom presences and boosted my posts to a pretty broad fandom circulation....

Its like, welcome to TW fandom, rinse and repeat.

Hardly any of the actual flack I’ve gotten in this fandom so far has anything whatsoever to do with my opinions on the Batfam....its almost all about the fact that I don’t like noncon/pedophilia/incest fics and am critical of the permissive attitude fandom spaces have cultivated around this stuff. And of the fact that I think the culture of false positivity fandom spaces try to enforce at the expense of marginalized fans who try to speak up about their experiences with racism and other forms of oppression and bigotry online, like, is similarly bullshit. Like, the thing people don’t like me for most of all, is that I’m LOUD and OPINIONATED about saying that these things specifically, fucking suck, and here are my own personal experiences that make me feel that way.

And notice the lack of actual argument with my actual posts. Notice how its all about ME....my volume....my ‘irrationality’....my obvious mental health issues (I’ve heard that one a couple times already, lol - no shit, I’m ADHD, have longterm PTSD, and a literal lifetime’s worth of trauma I’m still actively unpacking and sorting through, lol, what the fuck was the revelation in me having mental health issues? I’m not shy about it, and I don’t use it as an excuse for being an asshole.....guess what? I’m an asshole sometimes, and I can absolutely point to when and where I’ve been one. I’m not hiding it, and I’m not hiding behind mental illness).

Plus, y’know there’s my ‘fake wokeness’ because a white man can’t have any possible reasons or experiences that lead to him choosing to prioritize supporting people of color in fandom over other white people while still firmly being motivated by things that are born of his own life and his own lane, and just *gasp* happen to make me care more about certain shit than other white people do, like.....I’m as transparent as I am about my feelings and motivations for a REASON. I’m not UNAWARE of any of this or how I come across.....the thing so many of you don’t get is that none of this is a multiple choice test where you have to circle the right answer and you pass, you’re a good ally or a good influence or a good person.....all of this is just life. Its just us all making choices and everyone else reacting to those choices in whatever the hell way they choose. 

I’m not trying to win any points with anybody.....if I DID care about cultivating my own influence in fandom, I MORE than have the communication skills to couch my most controversial opinions in language that would be more palatable to the MOST influential corners of fandom, draw more people in, be less alienating or distancing to people who have a kneejerk defensive reaction to a lot of the things I say....like, however influential I may or may not be in various fandoms and various fandom circles....I am perfectly aware of how I could say or do things differently to have MORE influence in broader reaching circles....I just fucking hate that kind of game playing. 

I’m the opposite of trying to win points....I just want the people who are around me and who follow me to actually RESPECT me enough to fucking listen to me and what I have to say....because otherwise, how do either of us even benefit? What’s the point? Who’s gaining anything from any interaction?

So yeah. I’m loud, and vocal, and opinionated....I say exactly what’s on my mind and I don’t apologize for it. I’m an asshole to people who are an asshole to me first, and sometimes I fuck up and I’m an asshole to people who don’t deserve it. And if you call me on that and I pull my head out of my ass soon enough to notice in time that you’re right and I owe you an apology, I’ll do that! And if you don’t want to call me on it and choose to take the offense I caused as a reason not to follow me or interact with me any further....that’s perfect valid and understandable too, and absolutely your right! Do what you need to do for you!

But the one thing that will never ever ever win you any points with me and that I just despise more than anything....is the fundamental lack of awareness, and lack of respect for me and what I’ve lived through....that the S/terek readers of mine who started the chain of events that led to me settling on my current approach to interacting with fandoms.

That thing where some people in various fandoms think its perfectly acceptable and reasonable to like some of my fan content....but then get pissed and upset with me because I don’t like all of the same things you do, think all of the things you do, and am judgmental about various ships you might have or fics you might read or write......and then take this out on me.

Nuh uh. Not okay. Never okay. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, I DO NOT SIT THERE AND TAKE THAT SHIT.

Because the thing the people this describes seem incapable or unwilling to grasp is....

For all your talk of “don’t like/don’t read” and telling me and other survivors to take responsibility for curating our own fandom content and experiences and avoiding things that might trigger us....

Even when I TRY and do that to the absolute BEST of my ability.....some of you still get pissed at me and go on the offensive because I don’t want to interact or be around certain content or people who are inspired to create that content....because of what it brings up for me, because of my various past traumas.

Like, that’s what it boils down to, IN MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. People liking what I have to say, until I say I don’t like something they don’t like and here’s why....and then its open fucking season, because how dare I not want to associate with them because that association is likely to expose me to triggering things they also at the same time expect me to take responsibility for avoiding, so as not to blame anyone else for my exposure to such things.

Can you please maybe understand why that fundamentally DOES NOT FUCKING WORK??

And is not only utterly unreasonable, but offensive to ask of someone who’s just trying to participate in fandom and have a good time and simply STATE when and where relevant, that there are things that impact my ability to have a good time, just as there are things that impact the ability of other fans to enjoy themselves alongside you as well?

Or are we ever going to get around to some people admitting that their fandom experiences have absolutely nothing to do with caring about the ‘community’ people swear up and down exists, and solely prioritize their own personal enjoyment, and FUCK everyone else? (While meanwhile, also being all: but why aren’t they making more of the stuff that I at least was enjoying when they weren’t bitching about not having fun here?’ LOL. Can’t ever forget that part.)

Its just.

You all are fucking exhausting sometimes, I swear. And that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere, because I have as much right to be here as anyone, and I DO still manage to have a good time a lot of the time in spite of this crap, but that’s never gonna stop me from saying I have a right to have more of a good time and less of a literally triggered time, if any of you might ever care to prioritize that for me as much as you ask me to prioritize your good times for you.

This isn’t me doing anything other than saying....you all are fucking exhausting sometimes, I swear. Because sometimes, I just want to say that. Sometimes, it feels good to say that. And at every time, I have every damn right to say that in any way, shape or form I want to say it, at any volume I want to say it at, because none of this is me yelling at anyone, it is every single one of us sitting safe and comfortable in front of a screen of some kind, reading someone else express themselves and deciding how we want to take that expression and what’s being expressed, and how we want to react or not react in turn.

Like....just...its that fucking simple. That is literally all so much of this fucking ‘discourse’ is. People experiencing life in different ways than other people, and some people wanting to improve their experiences, some people wanting their experiences to stay just the way they are, some people wanting to ignore every experience that doesn’t fit their expectations or desired interactions, and other people just.....idk, just being fucking high, let’s face it, half the shit on this site is just plain weird and I like to assume the best of humanity and just chalk it up to half this site’s user base being high as fuck most of the time they post, LOL. 

*Shrugs* Congrats if you actually read all the way through to the end of this post....like....this is where I reiterate...I have ZERO expectations for this post. I have NO clue how people will react to it, how many or how few people will take it in the way I want it to be taken, especially because *I* don’t even know how I want it to be taken or what I would like to come of it. This is literally just me saying shit that is on my brain in response to my own personal experiences on this site and in this fandom. It is utterly, 100% up to you guys to decide what you do with it from here.

If I have one want for all fandoms, I guess it would just be.....for people to look to their own behavior and motivations and choices and take responsibility for their own shit before projecting onto other people and expecting them to do all of that while still refusing to do any of it themselves.

Too many people keep trying to drive one way on what are supposed to be two-way streets, and being shocked when that repeatedly results in collisions, pileups, accidents and blatant hit and runs.

We all live in a society.

Quit treating other members of that society like they only exist to cater to your existence alone.

[neshabeingchildish]

02. Charlotte's House

Henry Danger be sometimes throwing out these little one liners for lolz but, I think really hard about it at times, because there is some actually seriously toxic and abusive behaviors they’ve mentioned. So, as I’m known to do, I will be utilizing angst in this fic. This chapter features some.

Charlotte’s House

Jasper and Charlotte walked to Charlotte’s after they had been brainstorming with Ray and Henry about how to deal with Hally the Computer. Eventually, Charlotte pointed out how not only was this the responsibility of the heroes of Swellview and the “Man of the Cave,” but that as long as Ray was swinging that sword around, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly anyway. 

Jasper once again reiterated, in case anyone had forgotten, “TERRIFIED!”

Henry complained, but stopped immediately when Ray nearly killed Jasper again and he had to pull him in the other direction with the sword. 

Whenever Charlotte got home, she observed, “Well, my parents aren’t here. So if Hally sends the Man drones, at least my family won’t be killed.”

Jasper gasped, “Do you think that she would do that?”

“She 600% suctioned me out of the tube. I’m not putting anything passed Old Girl.”

“Well, you want me to stay until your parents get home, in case she does something like that?”

“How can you staying possibly help?”

“Well, I could distract the drones while you escape?” She made a face. What a crazy idea! He quickly added, “Or, for her advantage, she doesn’t have to send any to my house, because she kills both of us here.”

“Well, if I had thought this out, I’d have suggested we spend the night at your place.”

“You would spend the night at my house?”

She thought about his insufferable mother and the fact that with his small checks, he sort of had to fend for himself, more often than not. His mom locked cabinets and the fridge at certain times, since he was 7, because he was “too fat,” and just kept that horrible practice up to the point where he became a food stasher. She often forgot to buy stuff, like toilet paper, and there were no towels in there! Like… what did she want to do, bring back the Plague? 

“You got me there. I hate everything about your house.” She didn’t add And your mom, because she knew that would have been rude. “Well, I kinda like the thought of having drone bait, but trust me, if she sends any, neither of us are making it out of here. Hopefully, it doesn’t harm my face or hair. My parents want to do open casket, if anything should happen.”

He was going to comment on the greatness of her face and hair, but was more distracted by, “Why do you know that???”

“We’ve got plans for every possible conceivable life event, including death. What, you think that my organizational skills, over-analyzing, and extensive preparation was self taught?” They went inside and she let him wash up in her parents’ bathroom and borrow a robe of her dad’s. She threw his clothes from the day into the wash and went into her bathroom to wash up, as well.

Whenever she came out Jasper was sitting on the spare bed in her dad’s robe, waiting nervously. She thought she knew what this was about. He was worried about Henry. She was too, but she also didn’t feel like fighting with Hally. After her Courtney Sham scare, she wasn’t getting into any scuffles with unstable girlfriends of her friends… Even if she is a computer. She sat on the side of her bed, facing him in her pajamas with her head tied up for the night and nodded her head, “I get it. I’m not gonna sleep until I get the text that he’s alright, too. Feel like doing the thing?”

Usually, whenever they were left behind during one of the Man Cave’s dangerous missions, they came into the same room to give each other reminders of how great their friends are and that’s why they’ll come back fine. But, Jasper actually didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t in the mood. So, instead, he said, “I’m actually pretty tired, but feel kinda bad about wanting to sleep while they’re trying to battle Hally. To be honest, Henry’s probably more in danger with Ray wielding Justice than from the computer.” 

“Get your sleep, Jasper. I’ll feel better knowing at least one of us has some peace.” He nodded, but remained sitting for a moment. He looked like he had something to say. “What is it?” She asked.

Jasper wanted to tell her that he’d been thinking about her lately, that he’d been feeling things, and he wanted her to feel things too. But the chances of that, this soon were slim. He hadn’t put in enough work yet. “Nothing. Goodnight, Charlotte.” He laid down as she simply nodded her head. She was awake for a while longer, until she got the call from Henry.

She got up, so that she wouldn’t wake Jasper and she stepped out. “Henry! Did you get things taken care of?”

“It’s a good news, bad news scenario.”

“Is Hally gone?”

“Yep.”

“So, that’s the good news. And the bad?”

“Ray crumbled the platinum Frittle.”

“OH MAN!” She squealed. She heard Jasper groan in his sleep and she silently scolded herself for being loud, and peeked in. He was still asleep, but seemed like he was having a nightmare. In fact, he seemed extremely shaken up. “Ugh. I’m gonna go. I think Jasper’s having a bad dream.”

“Jasper’s over? Cool. Should I come crash, too?”

“Do you need to?” She was about to go to bed, now that she knew he was safe, but she supposed she could leave the window open. 

“Not really. Just starting to feel more and more left out with the two of you.”

She laughed and said, “That’s silly. You just have more responsibilities, so we end up together more. He’s only here tonight because he didn’t want me to be alone. But, I gotta check on him. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Click.”

“Click.”

Jasper was squirming and sweating, so Charlotte was unsure if she should touch him or anything. She adjusted the air, covered him up, set the diffuser and whenever she got near him, he jumped up and shouted. She shouted too and covered her chest. “Jasper, are you okay?” He nodded, but he was breathing hard. “Jasper?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Sometimes, I have nightmares. Never should have went to sleep without knowing if Henry was okay.” That was partially true. He felt like the nightmare of Man drones flying in and murdering Charlotte in her sleep was punishment for going to sleep on her when Henry was out there risking his skin.

“Well, he is fine. They got rid of Hally.” She was rubbing Jasper’s face and didn’t realize it until his eyes went towards her hands. She abruptly let go and wondered, “You wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head. “Sorry if I woke you up or anything.”

“I was just about to go to sleep… You sure that you’re okay?”

“I won’t disturb you.” He laid back down, feeling weak and embarrassed. Great going. Now, she was never gonna take him seriously… 

Then, Charlotte surprised him. She grabbed some lavender oil and sat at the foot of the bed, “Do you mind if I touch you to try to help you sleep?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said, looking down at her. She smiled gently and took one of his feet. “I’m ticklish!” He warned.

“Awwww,” she cooed. “Well, I just want to try some reflexology massage to help with your stress. Something’s bothering you to have such intense nightmares.”

“It could have been worse. Sometimes, it’s sleep paralysis.” He felt relaxed already. “Whenever I was researching stuff on the WTF is Wrong with Me app…”

“You actually use that app?” She snickered when she asked it.

“I have to. Can’t afford therapy and my mom honestly doesn’t chat me up about my issues because she has a guilty conscious. It’s not as easy being a weirdo as I make it seem.”

“You do come across as extremely comfortable being offbeat.”

“Never had much of a choice. It was either I love me for me or hate myself. Figured other people hated me enough, starting with my parents. You and Henry are the only people that I have.” She bit her lip. “Sorry! That’s a bit much. I should just shut up.”

“No. You’re relaxed and talking through whatever you have going on. Friends can do that.”

“I first started looking into it… well… whenever I was…” he sighed and asked, “Remember whenever you said I was the Playground Pooper and I mentioned in passing my struggles with potty training?”

“I very vividly remember that, even though we glazed right over it.” She had actually forgotten about it, but now that he mentioned it - of course she remembered that weird ass justification!

"Because who has accidents that late in life? I wanted to see. As far as I can tell - stress, neglect, and emotional abuse from my mom.” Jasper gasped. He hadn’t meant to say that. He was getting too relaxed, now. “I hate that I’m pouring out like this…” She couldn’t think of anything to say, so he kept going, trying to somehow fix some of this. “Sometimes, people that you might think are just stupid are actually emotionally traumatized. Our brains develop differently whenever we grow up with stuff our minds can’t handle. I read a bunch of articles about that.”

“Jasper.. I had no idea it was that bad. I mean, your mom is a horror, for sure. And I have thought on numerous occasions that her ways weren’t healthy. But I didn’t know that you were nightmares and bedwetting stressed out because of her.”

“I haven’t wet the bed in years,” he reminded her.

“Right. But… 4 years ago is less time than Henry has been doing his work!” She let go of his foot and said, “You seem embarrassed, but really, you should be proud. You went out to figure yourself out and helped yourself, without any support from her or me and Henry - because I know that if I didn’t know, he probably didn’t either.. Not everyone is so independent.” She yawned. What a terrible time to do that, but God, she was exhausted.

“Hey.. thanks for letting me talk, but you should get some sleep. After that reflexology thing, I’m going back.”

“Well, the lavender I used probably helped.”

“You’re the greatest, Charlotte. I swear. Good night.”

She tried to fight the tingling she felt when he said that. “Good night to you.” Weird. Tingles? I must really be tired.

.

Charlotte woke up the next day excited to find out if Jasper has slept well the second time around, but apparently, he had enough time to get dressed, fold her dad’s robe and leave it on the spare bed, send her a thank you text, and bail before she got up. She sighed, unsure of what she was bothered by. 

He’d let her know in the text that he has to get home because his mom was calling. He told her thank you for the space, the sleep, and the talk. He even made a rose out of characters. Why was she salty that she didn’t get to actually check in with him this morning? She rolled her eyes at herself and got up to get ready for work. Since Hally wasn’t there, she guessed it’d be business as usual. So, she wasn’t going to treat Jasper any differently for his confessions last night. She would never bring it up again, unless he needed to. She did feel like there was some kind of shift in how she saw him though. Who’d have thought that her goofy, silly, but sweet friend was really a wounded, self-aware man of mystery? Wait, should I feel bad for sort of thinking that traumatized Jasper is kind of… attractive? “Yes! Yes, you should feel bad and you shall never mention this again or even think about it!”

[shirtlesssammy]

1x12: Faith

Welcome to hellatus, guys! This summer we’ve decided to recap our favorite episodes from past seasons. We’ll be picking two per season. We’re starting off with Faith --because Dean’s faith and self-worth seem like a good start, and at least one recapper (Boris) hasn’t rewatched in a very long time.

Then:

On a dark, lonely highway, two brothers criss-cross the country hunting monsters while looking for their dad.

Now:

Sam and Dean are hunting a rawhead in the basement of very dark house (forewarning: Boris will maintain a running commentary on how dark this show is in the beginning for the foreseeable future.) While Sam gets the children to safety, Dean takes out the monster with electricity, but gets zapped in the process.

(If I’m going to suffer, you’re going to suffer)

Sam gets Dean to the hospital (Omg, Hannah!) but the doctor has bad news. Dean suffered a massive heart attack, and his heart is irreparably damaged. He only has a few weeks to live. Sam, in tears, heads to Dean’s room. He finds his brother, considerably worse for wear, channel surfing. “You ever watch daytime tv? It’s terrible.” (haha, Jensen is only a few years removed from Days at this point. Also, it’s SO something Dean loves.)

This is Dean’s episode, but I’m really feeling for Sam here. He just lost Jessica at this point. He isn’t close to John, but their dad is missing too. He is facing the reality that his brother is going to die. Welcome to the show of pain and loss and never ending heartache, Sam Winchester.

He jumps into full savior mode, researching everything about Dean’s condition, and even calls their father. Surprise! He doesn’t answer. There’s a knock at the door, and Dean’s there!

He checked himself out the of hospital. That’s ok though, because Sam has a lead on a specialist in Nebraska. He’s not letting Dean die on his watch!

The specialist is actually a faith healer in a tent. Dean is appalled. I’m appalled at the amount of mud everywhere. This is not ADA compliant. Throw some boards down for the sick and injured at least. As Sam and Dean enter the tent, they argue about faith and God. A young woman counters Dean’s argument, and hello flirty Dean. The woman is Layla. She wonders why Dean is even at the faith healer’s if he doesn’t believe. “Apparently, my brother here believes enough for both of us.” It’s like Sam took those words and internalized them for 13 years. Aside from his mental breakdown after Dean and Cas went to Purgatory, Sam’s always kept pushing and believing in something better.

Once the boys are seated inside the tent, Roy Le Grange starts his spiel. In a side whisper to Sam, Dean calls bullshit on the whole shebang. Roy, who’s blind, overhears him and asks him to come forward.

Dean does not want to go. Dean doesn’t think he deserves to be healed. Dean reiterates that he is not a believer. “You will be, son. You will be.” Hahahahaha, he only believes now because he’s seen it all. Roy asks the congregation to pray and he lays his hands on Dean. Dean falls to the ground. Sam rushes to his side. Dean looks around and sees someone behind Roy.

Back at the hospital, a doctor assures Dean that his heart is perfectly normal, like nothing was ever wrong with it. She also tells the boys that another young man died from a heart attack the day before. Coincidence? Dean thinks not.

The boys split up. Sam goes to learn about the heart attack victim and Dean heads to talk to the reverend. He tells Dean about going blind, cancer, a coma, and a miracle of waking up cancer free with the added bonus of healing thrown in for funsies. Dean wants to know why he was saved. DEAN. The reverend says he sees “a young man with an important purpose, a job to do, and it isn't finished.” Lol, he has AT LEAST 13 more years of work to do.

Sam learns that the man who died was running at the gym before he died. And the clock there hasn’t worked since.

Dean runs into Layla and her mother as he leaves the reverend’s. They’re turned away by the reverend’s wife. Layla’s mom lays into Dean, and Dean learns that Layla has a brain tumor. “Why do you deserve to live and not my daughter?” Whoa, harsh lady. One, he saves the world,  a lot. And B, angels are pretty much making it impossible for him to die.

Back at the motel room, Sam reveals all the research he’s been doing. For every healing that Roy has performed, someone else has died. Dean concludes that they’re dealing with a reaper.

Cue generic lame-o music montage if you’re watching Netflix. Cue super awesome, totally on the nose Blue Oyster Cult’s Don’t Fear the Reaper if you’re watching the DVD. Sigh. We see Roy heal people while a reaper takes a life.

Sam guesses that Roy is using dark magic to bind the reaper to do his bidding. Dean wants to kill him. Sam doesn’t want to kill another human. Then Dean says, “We can’t kill Death.” Lolololololol. Sam suggests breaking the black spell.

They head back to the tent where another dramatic healing service is about to begin. Dean stakes out the tent while Sam breaks into the preacher's house. He discovers a book hidden behind another. It's an old book with information about reapers and the coptic cross on the altar in the tent.

Also in the book? News clippings about people who have died...and one news article featuring the man campaigning against the faith healing. And so the next victim is revealed (In a Monty Python voice: He’s not dead yet!) Sam relays the info about the next victim to Dean.

Dean's mission in all of this is to stall the healing. But this show being what it is, the next person called up for healing is Layla. We want her to live but also...it's not the way to save her. Dean is clearly feeling the same quandary and he tries to tell her not to go up and be healed. Her mother calls her up to the altar and Layla goes. (And you can’t blame her. The word of some angsty dude over her desperate mother? No contest.)

Meanwhile out in the parking lot the next victim calls for help as the reaper pursues him through the parked cars. The preacher's about to heal Layla when Dean pulls the fire alarm – and by “pulls the fire alarm” I mean he just shouts that there's a fire. Uh. Subtle? People panic anyway and skedaddle. The preacher's handlers lead him out and the healing (and murderous reaper) is stopped.

Hooray! Problem solved! Except...no. The reaper reappears and grabs hold of the victim's head. The protester collapses slowly to the ground while Sam shouts at Dean through the phone to fix it. Dean spots the preacher's wife standing strangely off by herself. She's muttering an incantation and when Dean interrupts her, she stuffs an ornate necklace under her shirt before yelling for help. With her spell interrupted, the reaper recedes.

Dean and Layla have a chat about the failed healing. She wants to know why he interrupted her healing and when he doesn’t have an answer, she walks away disappointed. Dean heads back to the car muttering that she deserves life more than him. Ooooh Dean Bean.

Anyway, don't worry kids, because the preacher's gonna heal Layla in a private session! Or, worry readers, because someone's gonna die soon. I'll give you a hint. He's over six feet tall, has fanfiction green eyes, and channels his immense daddy issues into hunting.

Back at the motel, Sam explains the book he purloined from the preacher’s house. It was written by a “priest gone darkside” who learned how to trap a reaper. They theorize that the preacher's wife first trapped it to keep it from taking her terminally ill husband, and later decided to use it to kill people she found immoral. Gross. Since the preacher is healing Layla that night, they head out to either destroy her necklace or the altar, or possibly both since they’re not sure what’s controlling it.

Dean muses about the value of his life yet again on their way to the revival camp. I suppose this is one of the reasons I find this episode so compelling. I’m endlessly drawn to Dean and his deep well of self loathing and sacrifice. I feel like this episode epitomizes much of that for me, and sets up so much of the conversation about faith and purpose later on.

Anyway. Roy's about to start healing but his wife isn't there. She must be lurking elsewhere to do the reaper spell. Sam heads to the house to find her while Dean leads the local cops on a merry chase through the encampment. Sam finds a cellar and heads inside. At last he's found the altar! He finds a picture of Dean on the super messy black altar. (If you're going to do a black altar, at least do it with some style, lady.)

The wife shows up. “I gave your brother life and I can take it away.” Yeah...NO. Sam trashes the altar and races for her. She locks him in the cellar but Sam is resourceful and starts bashing his way out while the preacher’s wife heads to the tent to pray Dean dead.

Dean, meanwhile, gets a happy visit from our friend the reaper. He starts to die, eyes graying out and color bleeding from his face, when Sam appears by the reaper’s wife and destroys her necklace. Sam got free! Now the reaper is free! The reaper immediately turns away from Dean and heads for the preacher's wife. She's toast in moments - her life for her husband, apparently.

Sam meets up with Dean and they head back to the hotel. Dean mopes about what happened when Layla stops by. (Sam called her and told her to stop by. Sam, you dork.) Sam gives Dean a stupid grin and hightails it out of there. We get the recap: Layla's still terminally ill. The preacher's suffering after the death of his wife and collapse of his healing business.

Layla tells Dean that she's okay with everything that went down. “If you're gonna have faith, you can't just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don't.” (Accurate!) She bids Dean farewell.

He tells her, “I'm not much of a praying type. But I'm gonna pray for you.”

“Well,” she replies. “There's a miracle right there.” (Accurate.)

Ya Gotta Have Quotes:

We can't work miracles

I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot

I bet you she could work in some mysterious ways

I looked into your heart and you just stood out from all the rest

We can't kill death

God save us from half the people who think they're doing god's work

You said it yourself, Dean. You can't play god

That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down.

Why me?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[leisurelypanda]

Thor was feeling surly. He still was not sure why Steve was upset with him, but he had spent all weekend trying to get through to him only to be stonewalled. If there was one thing he found frustrating about his lover, it was that he was never seemed to deal with conflict. He was prone to sweeping it under the rug and pretending it did not exist. Of course, Thor’s method of dealing with life’s problems generally involved going at it directly or channeling his energy into working out, which could be problematic at times.

Still, he would not be nearly so sullen if Steve would just talk to him. He wanted to know what he did wrong, if Steve was all right. If they were all right. The last thing he wanted was to lose him over something like this, especially when he did not know what he did. He tried not to think about that particular possibility. Gods willing, he would see Steve soon and they would have the chance to talk.

He tried his best to ignore the happy affections between his brother and Tony. Maybe it was his current problem with Steve, but he really did not feel like seeing couples being happy right now. Steve showed up a few minutes later looking like he had been crying. Despite being angry with him, despite wanting to talk to him about their issue, Thor could not help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“I need to talk to you,” Steve said when he arrived. Tony jeered at the words and Thor turned to glare at him. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the locker.

“You make one more comment like that about our relationship,” Thor growled. “And I will stuff you into a locker and leave you there.”

“Hey man, lay off!” Tony shouted. He struggled against his grip. “Steve, man, come on help me out!”

Steve just shrugged. “You got this babe.”

“Some friend you are,” he grumbled. “Loki?”

“Tony,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “You honestly had this coming.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony grumbled again. “I’m sorry, I’ll lay off. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Thor drawled lowly. He let him go roughly before he stormed off. Loki’s taste in men was… peculiar. He could not pretend to understand it. Steve caught up with him. He made no move to take his hand and honestly, Thor did not really feel like it.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve said quietly. “I’ve been an ass and you didn’t deserve it.”

Thor felt some of the tenseness in his shoulders leave. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he had been hoping to hear the words.

“Thank you, Steve. I just want to know what it was that I said to upset you so,” Thor said with a frustrated sigh. Steve’s eyes fell like he did when he was thinking of something unpleasant.

“It’s just… it’s complicated,” he said. Thor crossed his arms and waited. Steve took a breath. “I was just… I was hoping that we could… spend time together over Christmas, you know?”

“I know, Steve, but is that really reason for how you’ve been acting?” he asked. “I was worried about you, you know.”

Steve’s eyes filled with tears. “I was hoping to not be alone this year,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. His stomach dropped slightly.

“You know how Mom is my only parent and she works at the hospital?” he asked. Thor nodded. “Well, she rarely gets holidays off. It’s hard to make ends meet and as much as she hates it, she usually works the holidays so she can get the bonus pay. Gotta keep the lights on.”

“What about Bucky?” he asked.

“Bucky is usually out of town over Christmas as well,” he said bitterly. “Visiting family. And when Joe was alive, he usually spent the day out at bars, if I was lucky. If not, well.... So… I’m alone most holidays, especially at the end of the year. I… was looking forward to… not… being alone.”

Thor felt like he had been punched in the gut. He felt like the biggest ass on the planet for being angry at him. Steve… he had no one. Again. He gathered his smaller boyfriend in his arms and held him tightly as he felt Steve tremble against him. Tears escaped his eyes and flowed down his cheeks, sorrow for the inordinate suffering his boyfriend had experienced in his brief life.

“Please don’t go,” Steve mewled into his chest. Thor felt his heart break and his grip tightened.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he said. “I wish I didn’t have to go. Have you known no joy in life?”

Steve held him tighter as well and at that moment, though he loved his family and his country and wanted to see them, he wished that he was not Swedish. There was nothing to be done. The arrangements had been made and his father would absolutely not make an exception for Steve. And Thor wept at the thought of his lover alone as no one ought to be over the holidays.

“I promise,” he whispered against Steve’s hair. He smelled of apples and cinnamon, sweet and warm. It was just like him. “I will make it up to you when I return from Sweden.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said to his surprise. “I don’t mean to be so needy.”

“My love,” Thor whispered. “I think the holidays are the time when everyone’s entitled to be a little needy. And all you wanted was to have someone to spend it with. I think I can forgive you for being a little selfish.”

They stood there weeping together in that secluded corner of the school. Thor did not care that Steve’s tears stained his shirt or that people might see them. None of that mattered against the gaping hole in his heart, knowing that he would be added to the long list of people to cause pain to the man he loved. He wondered if he could forgive himself.

“Um…” Thor turned to glare at whoever had thought to interrupt them. It was some scrawny boy, a freshman or sophomore, most likely. “I don’t mean to intrude, but do you guys have to do this in public? Not everyone wants to see that.”

Thor saw red and before he knew it he decked the kid in the jaw. He went down with a cry of shock. He looked up at him in shock and fled. It was the first time Thor had raised his hand to someone who was much smaller and weaker than him and even though what the kid said had his blood boiling, it left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Mr. Odinson,” said a nasally voice. He groaned audibly. It was the weasel, Mr. Frederickson. “Detention. And you Mr. Rogers, I hope you weren’t his accomplice in this.”

He felt his boyfriend stiffen against him. Thor wrapped his arm around him protectively.

“Detention for you as well,” he sneered.

“What?!” Thor demanded, taking a step towards him. He was stopped by Steve grabbing his arm. He looked at his lover, his eyes red and puffy from crying. Steve shook his head and Thor reluctantly relaxed. “Why?” he demanded.

“Inappropriate public displays of affection,” he said smugly. “Keep it to yourselves.”

Thor was tempted to kick his ass anyway as the corrupt little man sauntered away. It amazed him that there were people in New York who thought this way, but rationally he knew that bigots were everywhere. Even major cities in Europe had them.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, älskling,” he murmured, taking his hand. He sighed as they started to make their way back to his brother and Tony. It was going to be a long day. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor was drenched in sweat. He had been downstairs working out almost as soon as he got home from school. His legs were straining against the weights in the workout machine. It was not as satisfying as lifting weights, but it was something. He was desperately trying not to think about Steve. Or Christmas. Or the holidays in general. He knew, of course, that there was nothing he could do. That was the worst part. He wondered which of the gods he had angered to be faced with so many problems that he was powerless to fix.

Not that he wished it differently. He just wished that his lover’s life was not quite as unnecessarily difficult as it seemed to be. A shitty father who robbed him of a childhood, an illness that was constantly threatening to rear its ugly head, bullies and teachers who did not care to stop them, and now this. He let the weights slam down to the floor as he completed his rep. The resulting crash was immensely satisfying. His legs burned with the exertion, but he was still not satisfied. He had to stop, however, before he did any damage. He slumped against the seat of the machine.

He hated this feeling. Helplessness. Powerlessness. Weakness. He could not do anything, not until after he returned from Sweden anyway. They could spend time together until he had to leave, but he still felt like he was letting him down.

He sighed and got off to clean the equipment before he went into the shower to sulk. He stripped out of the gym clothes clinging to his skin and sighed as the hot water sprayed against his skin, washing away the sweat and grime. He sat down on one of the ledges and let the water cascade through his hair and down his back. It was an escape. He would take it.

He lost track of just how long he spent in the shower, but when he emerged the mirrors were completely obscured by the steam. He wrapped a towel around his waist and discarded his clothes in the laundry room before he headed upstairs. He could hear his parents discussing travel plans when he emerged. He circumvented the conversation on his way to his room. He did not want to think about Sweden.

He was in the middle of pulling on some sweatpants when there was a knock on his door. He sighed.

“What?” he demanded.

“Is that any way to greet your brother?” Loki chided.

“I am not in the mood, Loki,” Thor grumbled.

“Trust me, brother, I noticed,” his brother replied. “I just wanted to see if you were well.”

Thor sighed and unlocked the door to let him in. Loki’s face was shorn of any sign of mocking, sarcasm, or amusement. That was a good sign at least. Those who were not as familiar with him did not realize that Loki was not intentionally malicious, nor did he go out of his way to make light of people’s genuine suffering for his own amusement. He cared, it was just that he sometimes had a strange way of showing it.

Loki said nothing as he sat on Thor’s bed. Thor leaned on his desk and waited for him to say something. A long, awkward silence stretched on as they waited. Finally, Thor was the first to speak.

“What do you want?” he asked more gruffly than he intended.

“You have been acting strangely all day,” Loki said. “Tell me, Thor. What’s going on?”

“It is none of your business,” Thor grumbled.

“Did Steve break up with you?” Loki asked quietly.

“No!” he said. “No, it is nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?”

“You do not plan on leaving this alone, are you?” Thor asked.

“No, I don’t.”

Thor sighed in defeat. “You know there are some things that I do not particularly want to talk about,” he said. “Has it occurred to you that prying into my business is rude?”

“Yes it did,” Loki said. “I also know that your brooding is a bad sign.”

“Fine,” Thor sighed. “It’s Steve.”

“What about him?” Loki asked.

“He’s… upset that I’m leaving for Sweden,” he said. Thor explained what Steve had told him earlier that day. He had spent all day thinking about it. Steve had, too. It was a difficult day all around and truthfully, Thor really did not want to talk about it. Unfortunately, his mother and brother were nosy and seemed to be convinced that he should talk about whatever was bothering him. Not that he had ever done anything to warrant such concern, but still.

Loki was silent for a moment when he finished explaining the situation. Thor sat next to him on the bed. It did help, talking about it. If just a little bit. He wished that Loki’s brilliant mind would reach some solution that he was unable to see. Alas, his brother remained silent.

“There’s nothing we can do, unfortunately,” he said. “But at least he has already been invited to Yule. You will get to spend a holiday with him, at least.”

“I know,” he replied. “It is poor consolation, however. I wish I could think of a way to make sure he would not be alone. I keep thinking that I have failed him.”

“I can understand why you would think that,” Loki replied. “But surely you know that this isn’t your fault. You would spend the holidays with him if you could.”

“You are not going to chastise me for being sentimental?” Thor asked with a rueful laugh.

“To be honest, I’m a little jealous,” Loki said. “That you have someone who will miss you when we’re gone.”

“Surely you jest, Loki,” Thor said. “You have Tony.”

“Yes but,” Loki mused. “It’s hard sometimes to know what he’s thinking or how he feels. He prefers to let people think that nothing affects him.”

“Maybe he will, you never know,” he replied. “Come on.”

“Where are we going now?” Loki asked. Thor walked over to the kitchenette and retrieved two bottles of mead and handed one to his brother.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You know I haven’t turned 18 yet, right?” he asked.

“It’s not like it’s whiskey,” Thor said. “And I think we could both use a drink right now.”

Loki smiled appreciatively and opened the bottle. They toasted as they drank. There was some comfort in the companionable drinking between them, even if it was just the one. Two brothers lamenting their lovers in their own way.

“Thor, how do you know when you’re in love?” Loki asked a few minutes later.

“Why? Do you think you might love Tony?” Thor asked. Loki was quiet for some time, looking at what was left of his drink.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I care about him, certainly. But I don’t know if I’m… in love. Or if he would feel the same, if I was.”

Thor considered the question for some time. He considered his relationship with Steve now and his relationship with his first ex a couple years ago.

“You are happy, especially when you are around him,” he said. “You are stressed, too because you worry about whether you are doing it right. You want to spend all your time with them and you do feel sad when you have to be apart. You think about him all the time and you wonder how they are doing.”

“Do you love Steve?” he asked.

“I do,” Thor said quietly.

“I’m glad,” Loki said. “He needs someone who cares about him.”

Thor hummed in agreement and downed the last of his mead. Then after a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed another bottle. Just the one. He made a silent toast to his lover and drank. He thought about Yule and the various traditions that went along with it. He wanted to give Steve something to make the season a little… cheerful.

Maybe I’ll talk to mother about it, he thought. She was better at the gift giving thing than he was. He knew Steve drew and he knew he went through art supplies like wildfire sometimes, but he wanted to get him something more special than something he got all the time. Then a thought occurred to him and he smiled. He knew what Steve would love.

[chaos-weekly]

"you gotta keep livin’ man. L-I-V-I-N.”

The bar was supposed to be Imogen’s safe place. No one that she knew from LA ever came in, mostly because the people in her lawyer life frequented classy, expensive city bars rife with celebrities, not highway exit trucker bars. This was exactly what Imogen wanted, though. She wanted to lead this double life, top notch lawyer during the week and truck stop bartender on the weekend. 

She liked her life more Friday to Sunday than she did Monday to Thursday. Her clients at the bar were full of color, life, and stories. They treated her like a daughter, or a sister if they were young enough. Her clients at her law firm were pieces of cardboard-- no personality, nothing exciting to talk about. Their lives consisted of making money, staying in the limelight, and being in relationships with attractive people who boosted their own fame. Trying to maintain conversations with them was the most challenging thing in the world.

Weekends were supposed to be her time to recharge and get away, which was why seeing Xander at the end of the bar made Imogen want to shrink away. Sure, there was another bartender on duty, but he was on her half. Besides, he would see her anyway, and Imogen figured it would be much less awkward to get the introduction out of the way now rather than it come up if they ran into each other in the future.

“Hey,” she said, nodding and leaning on the bar across from him. He looked like he was having a rough night, but she decided against saying anything. Bartender Imogen was much more casual, more relaxed. “Need a drink? First one’s on the house.”

Xander looked up, recognizing her instantly. Surprisingly, amusement wasn’t one of the emotions in his eyes. Maybe he was too drained to find this funny.

“Yeah, a cosmo sounds good,” he muttered, resting his chin on the table.

“Consider it done.” She moved behind the bar, getting all of her ingredients. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s because I’ve never been here before,” he replied, sitting up slightly to talk to her. “I was on a drive, needed to clear my head. I saw this bar and thought, ‘Perfect, I won’t see anyone I know here. I need a drink.’ Guess I was wrong.” But he shrugged, not seeming too upset. Imogen supposed that out of all the people he could have accidentally run into, he was glad it was just her. 

“I thought I was the only one who thought driving was the best way to clear your head,” Imogen said, smiling. “There’s something about being on an empty highway at night that makes you feel independent, in control. Free.”

“Most nights, yeah.” 

This is where Imogen’s people reading skills came in handy. As a bartender and a lawyer, you needed to know when to step back, when to press, and what questions to ask when you made the big step. Huh. Maybe her two jobs weren’t so opposite after all. 

Xander wasn’t exactly clamming up and his body language seemed somewhat comfortable. But she didn’t want to press about the issues of the evening, especially considering her legal advice was what had spurred them on.

She’d take a different route.

“I started working at this bar three years ago,” Imogen said, pouring the cosmo into a glass and sliding it across the bar to him. “I’d spent the first six months out of law school at the office slaving over cases. Come December, I was so burnt out that I didn’t think I could keep up. I went back home for Christmas and spent a lot of time with my dad playing tennis. It’s funny, I didn’t even know he played tennis because he’s always playing golf with other politicians and connections, but he does. He spends most of his time at the court on weekends. Sometimes my mom goes.” 

A regular sidled up to the bar and sat in her section, greeting her with a toothless: “Howdy, Immy!” She noticed Xander smile at this interaction and took this as a cue that it was okay to put the conversation on hold. With a nod, Imogen got her customer’s regular drink, a Budweiser in a cold glass, and brought it to him, staying momentarily to chat about his route, his maniac boss, his wife, and his adorable grandkids. 

“I gotchu anotha’ picture for the wall,” he said, pulling a folded up picture of his newest grandbaby from his wallet. “Nine pounds and fo’ ounces. Looks just like her grandma.” He was beaming, and Imogen smiled, looking fondly at the picture. She loved the childless life, but hell, she had crazy baby fever. 

“She’s beautiful,” Imogen replied, hanging the picture up on the back wall of the bar. It was filled from top to bottom with pictures of their staff and regulars-- themselves, their friends, their families. It had been going on way before she’d been there. She’d added some of herself-- her graduation from law school, her with her parents, a few pictures of her with other employees and customers. It was sweet. This bar really was her second home.

Imogen returned to Xander, who was examining the wall. He didn’t seem to be bored and he didn’t seem to be upset that she was back. In fact, his focus returned to her immediately when she was in front of him.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “Randy passes through her about once a month, so I try to take a second to talk to him.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re working.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry I talked to him. I’m sorry I paused in the middle of a story.”

“Well you can make it up to me by continuing.” He was smiling. She could see his teeth. Who was this Xander? Was it the alcohol? 

“Yeah, well anyway, my dad told me that when he first got into politics, he thought being successful meant spending every minute working and putting everything you had into relationships with other politicians and businessmen and whoever. He was exhausted. You know, I’ve never related to him more than I did then.” Imogen noticed his empty glass. “Need another cosmo?”

“Is that even a question?” Xander scoffed playfully, handing her the glass. She laughed, shaking her head. 

“No. I could drink cosmos all night.” 

“You don’t strike me as a cosmo kind of girl.”

“And what kind of girl do I strike you as?” Imogen teased, shaking the drink already.

“Like a ‘three fingers of bourbon, neat, girl.’” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“On the rocks, actually,” she replied with a grin, handing him his second cosmo.

“Damn,” he muttered, taking a sip. “I was close. But tell me, how does your dad playing tennis relate to you working here?”

She’d got him now. 

“My whole life was just work. Every relationship I’d built was because of work. Everything on my schedule was arranged around work. It sounds stupid, but even every piece of clothing I owned was based around work. I forgot who I actually was. It was embarrassing, degrading almost. I was driving around one night to clear my head and stumbled across this little place. It was karaoke night. I stopped in, got a drink, sang a few songs. It was the most like myself I’d felt in a while. The sign on the door said they needed help- a bartender to take weekend shifts. And I don’t know. It just felt right.” 

Imogen leaned on the bar, tired of standing on her feet.

“People always say you’re supposed to work to live, not live to work. Neither of those things really feel right. I just want to live. Work’s part of that.”

He was staring at her and through her at the same time, lost in thought. She grabbed his empty glass and started making another cosmo. It took a minute before he decided to speak.

“Everything sucks right now.” He accepted his third cosmo and took a long sip. “Can’t seem to get my shit together. Not just at work. I can’t stop going back to her. She’s a magnet from Hell. And I’ve been a shitty friend. Don’t know how to fix any of those things, though.”

“Your relationship with relationships sounds a lot like my relationship with work,” Imogen commented. 

“People always tell me that I need to be in a relationship to feel whole, to boost my career, to meet my needs. To fully experience life. And that if I don’t have friends and spend all my time partying with them, I’ll look like a loser with no life.” Xander was nodding his head, finally making the connection she’d been getting at all along. “I just want to live my life how I want to. Relationships are a part of that.”

“Damn, look at you, Boy Wonder!” She applauded softly, smiling. “And right at the tail end of your three drink limit.”

“You have a limit here?” He looked disappointed.

“Trucker bar. Remember all that, ‘Don’t drink and drive.’ stuff that’s supposed to keep you safe?”

“Right. Got it.” Xander yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “I think I need to hit the road. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“Take the back roads. Less cops.”

“Typical cop-hating lawyer.” He shook his head with a tired smile. “But you’re not too bad.”

“You’re not too bad yourself. Drive safely.”

“I won’t.”

Xander tossed a bill that was way too much to cover his drinks on the counter. 

“Take a tip and add the rest to my tab.” He grinned. “I’ll see you another time, Imogen.”

[celtic7irish]

A Safe Space

Title: A Safe Place

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13342515

Square Filled: B1 - Nesting

Ship: Tony x Bucky

Rating: Mature

Major Tags: None

Summary: Nesting: The act of cuddling and other such public displays of affection in an open area. Also, the act of settling yourself into a cozy convenient corner of your bedroom and surrounding yourself with all the comforts of your many vices. Also, the act of leaving small stashes of your things in various places in a random and unorganized manner.Or: Bucky has a safe space of his own. Tony likes to spend time in it. 

Word Count: 3683

Created for @mcukinkbingo

Full Text Below:

When Bruce moved into the Tower, Tony made a space just for him. He had a lab – three labs, actually – and an entire floor to live on.  There was a room for meditation, and another that could be locked down if Bruce transformed.  There were exotic teas from the world over, and a library stacked floor to ceiling with books that covered every genre and subject imaginable.  There were tablets and holo-displays and servers keyed to his unique gamma signature.  It was everything Bruce could have ever wanted, and far more than he’d ever dared to hope for.

As the rest of the Avengers trickled in, one or two at a time, Tony did the same for them. Clint had a full-size shooting range; Natasha had a dance studio.  They shared an armory.  Steve had a gym and a track that could be raised or lowered, or have hurdles or pitfalls.  He also had a room filled with things from the forties, and tech that was a bit more old-fashioned and less complicated.  He had a library as well.  Thor’s room was done in as close a proximity to Asgardian décor as Tony could figure out from the vivid descriptions the blonde prince enjoyed regaling them with.

Tony’s floor, however, was as Spartan and cold as if nobody lived there at all. The furniture was sleek leather, the technology high-end.  The fridge and bar were always stocked, the bathroom always pristine.  Even the bedroom looked like nobody slept there, though the whole team had seen him go up to the Penthouse to sleep off a four-day engineering binge.

Tony’s workshop was the exact opposite, though, covered in half-completed projects and decorated with drawings made by the bots. There was a mini fridge and a comfortable couch.  Tools were scattered about in organized chaos that only Tony and his bots seemed to understand.  Snacks were hidden in drawers and on shelves, and the stools and chairs were designed with comfort in mind.

The Avengers rarely had cause to go to the Penthouse, which was why it took them so long to notice the changes. It started shortly after Barnes moved in, warily following Steven into the Tower, ready  to bolt at the first sign of danger.  Tony had taken one look at the soldier’s cybernetic arm and had practically kidnapped the man, spending hours with him in the workshop.

Barnes, one he’d realized that Tony had no intention of hurting him or experimenting on him, was content to stay down in Tony’s workshop with him, playing with the bots and pestering Tony about modern technology. It turned out that Barnes was a bit of a science nerd, and Tony was all too happy to answer his incessant questions.

Steve was the first one to realize something was going on when Bucky stopped sleeping in the floor that Tony had set aside for him. Questioning Jarvis proved fruitless as the AI adamantly refused to break the privacy protocols set in place by Tony, stating only that Sergeant Barnes was not in danger, nor was he a a danger to any of the Tower’s residents.

Steve cornered Bucky a few days later after one of their morning runs, and Bucky cheerfully told him to mind his own damn business. Steve opened his mouth to press the issue, but Bucky ignored him in favor of greeting Tony, who was staggering drunkenly down the hall.

“You’re a mess,” Bucky told him, gripping his arm carefully and steering him away from the wall he’d been about to run into. “C’mon, bed.”

Tony looked up at the soldier and gave a long, slow blnk, swaying on his feet. “Hm?” he mumbled absently.

“Bed,” Bucky repeated in mild exasperation. “Y’know, that monstrosity you’ve got up a coupla floors?”  He was grinning, not bothering to hide his fond amusement at the genius’ apparent confusion.  Steve just watched in mild consternation, knowing that he was missing something, but not sure what.

Tony blinked. “Oh, yes,” he agreed.  “It’s a very nice bed.”  He tipped his head to the side and gave Bucky a smile that Steve wall all too familiar with.  “Your Nest is better, though,” he added.  Steve could hear the capitalization.

“Buck-“ he started, but the other man glared at him so darkly that he snapped his mouth closed abruptly.

The soldier turned back to Tony once he was satisfied that Steve wasn’t going to interrupt, his expression softening as he gave the genius a pleased smile. “You really think so?” he asked.

“Yep,” Tony nodded, leaning tiredly against Bucky. “’S comfortable.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Bucky told him. Steve was left to stare after them in stunned surprise as the two men made their way down the hall and to the lift.

“Hey, Buck?” he called, just before the two men entered the elevator. Barnes looked back at him curiously, and Steve sighed.  “Try to get him to sleep more than two hours, yeah?” he asked, as close as he could manage to giving them his blessing.

Bucky’s grin was blinding. “Yeah,” he agreed, just before the doors to the lift closed on them, whisking them away.

Away from the prying eyes of Captain America, Tony straightened up with an exaggerated yawn, stretching enticingly so that the hem of his tank top lifted, revealing a strip of tanned skin by his waist. He grinned wickedly at Bucky, who was smirking back at him.  “Think that did it?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “He’s been side-eyein’ me for days now,” he grouched.  “I figured it was ‘bout time we helped him out a bit.  I hate seein’ him worry like that, like he’s scared I’ll run off if he asks me somethin’.”

Tony leaned into him more firmly. “He’ll be fine,” he reassured him.  “Besides,” he pointed out slyly, “I’m pretty sure we just smacked him over the head with a sledgehammer.”  Bucky’s metal arm slid easily around his shoulder, a familiar weight by now.  “So now what?” Tony purred seductively.

Bucky nuzzled against him, pressing lips to the top of Tony’s head. “Well, Stevie did suggest that I try to get you sleep for ‘more than two hours’,” he suggested hopefully.

Tony snorted. “Gotta wear me out before that,” he shot back.

Barnes moved suddenly, before Tony could react to the change in position, gripping him at the hips and shoving him back against the wall of the lift, one firm thigh sliding between Tony’s legs. “Oh, I plan to,” he growled teasingly, a hint of challenge in his gaze.

Tony grinned. “Oh, excellent,” he sighed happily.  He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, not the least bit surprised when the soldier got a double-handful of his ass and lifted him clear off the floor as soon as the doors opened, carrying him out of the lift and through the Penthouse to the bedroom.  And to Bucky’s large, comfortable nest.

Barnes had been so skittish when he’d first arrived, and Tony had set Jarvis to monitoring him – discretely, of course. Mostly so he’d know if he needed to run interference with Steve, since the blonde idiot was far too reckless with his own safety.  Besides booby-trapping his quarters, Barnes had taken to sleeping under the bed.  At least it was clean, and Barnes had only busted up on cleaner bot before he’d realized that they were harmless.  Still, Tony had fixed the bot and reprogrammed it to only attend to Barnes’ rooms when he was in the gym or the shower or something.  There had been on further incidents.

Gradually, items had started to go missing from around the Tower. Mostly Steve’s stuff, of course, but also some of Tony’s, surprisingly.  It had taken him a while to get up the nerve to confront Barnes about his thieving habits, but the soldier had sheepishly admitted that with his enhanced senses, he needed to surround himself with comfortable, familiar things.  It was something that Hydra hadn’t allowed, but now that he could indulge without fear of punishment, he couldn’t seem to stop.  Soft blankets that scented of Steve.  Fluffy towels and plush pillows.  Old, worn flannels.  They all made their way to Bucky’s room.

Tony had kind of understood why he’d taken Steve’s stuff – the guy had been his best friend for forever, and even know, Steve only wanted to help Barnes. But that still didn’t explain why some of his own stuff had gone missing.  Until Barnes had pointed out that the whole Tower belonged to him, that the Tower was, in its own way, a fortress to protect those inside of it.  And so Barnes had quickly come to associate Tony with protection and safety.  Especially after spending so much time in the lab, and seeing the weapons and armor he made for the team, to aid and protect them in battle.

Even so, he’d continued to sleep under the bed, despite Steve’s best efforts to the contrary. Even Sam had tried speaking to the soldier, but it hadn’t done any good.  Not until Tony had asked Barnes what he needed in order to feel safe.  And Barnes, perhaps surprised that somebody was actually asking him what he needed rather than trying to tell him, had admitted that he needed to wake up not alone.  It couldn’t be Steve, though, because despite Barnes fighting his conditioning, Steve was still an unfinished mission, and Barnes wasn’t willing to risk waking up as the Winter Soldier and actually killing the other man.

Tony had considered that for all of thirty seconds before suggesting that Barnes come stay in the Penthouse. Jarvis watched over Tony, and the armor was never far away, should it be needed.  It had taken about a week of coaxing, but Barnes had eventually agreed, and had brought his nest up to Tony’s bedroom.  It was actually a mutually beneficial arrangement, because knowing that Bucky needed somebody to be there when he woke up actually led to Tony going up to bed more often than not.  Sometimes he even managed a couple hours of sleep while he was there.

And then, one night, Tony had suffered a nightmare. He couldn’t even remember what it had been about now; Afghanistan or space or having his heart ripped out or drowning.  It didn’t really matter.  But he had woken up screaming, and Barnes had grabbed him and brought him to the nest and curled up against him, just holding him until he’d quieted.  Tony had slept undisturbed for a solid six hours, far more than he usually got these days.

After that, it had become rather commonplace for the two men to sleep in the nest that Bucky had built. The soldier had even started adding a few items from the other Avengers into the nest.  The first time Tony had found one of Bruce’s slightly large button-ups buried under a pile of soft blankets, he’d laughed.  And then proceeded to kiss Bucky senseless.

There had been some painful conversations made in the nest, too, the two men curled up so that they faced away from each other, as Bucky admitted to having killed his parents, as Tony admitted to having known about it for years prior. Tony had spoken haltingly of Howard and Obie and the Ten Rings, and Barnes had spoken of the war and Hydra and cryo.

Today, though, there would be no talking about the hard, painful things that each of them had been through, no confessing of sins or absolution of them. Just love and patience, and skin against skin.

Tony was squirming impatiently before his lover had even set him down. “Just…here….lemme,” he growled, helping Bucky shove both their shirts over their heads.  He lifted his hips obligingly so Bucky could tug his sweatpants down and off, then sprawled out on the blankets, watching with avid delight as Bucky efficiently removed his own jeans – by virtue of tearing them with his metal hand, the zipper breaking and a button dropping down into the nest.  Tony palmed it, then burrowed his hand under a bunch of pillows and blankets before releasing it, leaving the button as just another part of the nest, like the various wires and knife sheaths and leather straps that were already there. He preferred the blankets and pillows and clothing, himself, but this was Bucky’s Nest, and if he wanted to have knife sheaths and straps from Steve’s uniform – before Tony had improved it yet again, of course – then that was fine, too.

Propped up on a mound of pillows, Tony enjoyed the teasing, tickling sensation of the faux fur against his spine and sides as Bucky dropped to his knees, pinning Tony with one leg on either side of Tony’s thighs, looking down at him with dark, predatory eyes. Tony looked back just as intensely.  “You know, I could get you real fur pillows,” he pointed out reasonably.

Bucky grinned. “Naw, I like the fake stuff,” he said, leaning down to drop a kiss on Tony’s upturned lips.  “Nothing got killed for it.”  And there was something darker in that statement, something that they’d probably talk about eventually.  But not today.

Tony reached for his lover. “Fine, then,” he mock-groused.  “Keep it.  But I get to choose the next addition.”  And hadn’t that been something of a surprise, discovering that he also enjoyed nesting?  He’d always thought that the terms related only to mothers-to-be, bustling about the home preparing it for a newborn.  But to his knowledge, his mother had never bothered, content to let the servants handle everything.  And this was different, anyhow.  This was creating a safe space and surrounding themselves with family and friends, even when those members weren’t actually present.

“Sure,” Bucky agreed. “As long as it isn’t somethin’ stupid.”

Tony just laughed, already picturing his fluffiest robe, crimson with a gold trim. It had been something of a joke-gift from Rhodey, but Tony loved the stupid thing and had worn it often when he’d been alone in the Penthouse, after his breakup with Pepper.  There had been something comforting about the soft warmth of it.  Kind of like Bucky’s nest, he supposed.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” he teased.

Bucky huffed in mock-annoyance, but shifted so that his body rested firmly on top of Tony’s, skin to skin. His metal fingers were tracing idle patterns on Tony’s right shoulder, sending tickling shivers down his arm.  “Enough talkin’,” Bucky told him, then suited words to action and kissed him, hard and possessive.

Tony moaned happily into the kiss, squirming under Bucky’s bulk, relishing in the pressure and heat radiating off the other man. Barnes was like a furnace, making the nest warm and comfortable.  He let his legs slip a bit further open, drawing Barnes further down on him.  “Lube?” he murmured as Bucky trailed a line of kisses and sharp nips across his chin and down his throat. Bucky latched onto the cord of his throat and started pulling blood to the surface.  His right hand fumbled around the raised, padded edge of the nest before coming up and showing Tony the small bottle of lube.

Tony hummed approvingly, his hand tangled in Bucky’s hair, resting on his head while the other man gave him a hickey to rival all hickeys. “Possessive son of a bitch, aren’t you?” he said happily.

Barnes answered him by flipping open the cap and somehow managing to get the lube on his fingers without dumping it. “Hm…dexterity,” Tony murmured.

Bucky muffled his chuckle against Tony’s throat. “Motivation,” he countered, fingers already teasing at Tony’s hole, calluses catching on the rim and making Tony gasp at the slightly rough sensation.  “Not gonna mess up the nest before I get a chance to mess you up in it,” he leered.

Tony arched, pressing back and down into Bucky’s touch, hoping to entice him to go faster. Instead, Bucky pulled away entirely, and Tony let out a low growl, his eyes narrowing at the other man.  Bucky just twisted away, leaning over the edge of the nest – and giving Tony a very nice view of his ass and the muscles in his back and shoulders and thighs – and grabbing something.

“Turn over?” he suggested coyly, turning his head to meet Tony’s gaze and smirking when he realized that Tony wasn’t watching his face at all.

Tony sighed, aggrieved, but did as he’d been asked, twisting over onto his front and lifting himself up on hands and knees. He generally preferred to be able to see his partners, to make sure they were enjoying themselves, but this way could be fun, too.  Bucky draped himself over Tony’s back, his weight pressing down on him and forcing Tony to use both arms to hold himself up.  Bucky’s cock pressed enticingly against Tony’s ass, and the genius shoved back, trying to get the other man to do something.

Bucky settled something below Tony, who glanced down and laughed at the ugly, yellowish-brown towels. He was sure there was a proper name for the color, but the fact remained that it was ugly, and therefore could be incinerated.  And it would keep them from messing up the nest.  Probably.

Bucky shifted again, lube-slicked fingers circling Tony’s hole again, occasionally dipping inside. Tony huffed.  “I don’t have all day,” he pointed out.  “I’ve got a board meeting in the morning, so if you want to get any sleep tonight, you should probably pick up the pace,” he suggested.

He got a sharp nip at the dip of his spine for his trouble, but Bucky moved them along, sliding the first finger inside and crooking it before dragging it back out slowly, letting it catch on Tony’s skin on the way out. Tony sighed in pleasure, his head dropping.  He was tempted to reach down and stroke himself, but Bucky’s metal hand resting between his shoulder blades stopped that; the bastard would probably knock him off-balance if he tried it.

Bucky’s tongue was tracing random designs on Tony’s skin, teeth nipping occasionally, and Tony squirmed impatiently. “Always so impatient,” Bucky chided, but his tone was amused, and Tony just turned his head to smirk at him.

“Or maybe you’re just not that good, soldier,” he challenged. Bucky’s eyes darkened, and the next thrust of his fingers – they were up to three now, when had that happened? – pressed ruthlessly against Tony’s prostate, making him shudder and jerk forward with a grunt, sparks shooting through him as he trembled, his arms nearly collapsing under him.

“You sure about that?” Bucky teased him, pressing a gentle kiss to the dip in his spine. His other hand pressed down on Tony’s back, encouraging him to drop to the bedding as Bucky straightened up, pulling his fingers free and slicking himself up before pressing in, as careful as ever.  Tony whined, but didn’t try to push back.  Bucky had explained, very seriously, that he’d hurt so many people over the years as the Winter Soldier that he never wanted to hurt anyone ever again, in any way.  And he was a lot to take in all at once without at least a little bit of pain, so Tony let him set the pace.  To reward him, Bucky fitted his metal hand against Tony’s left hip to support himself, the fingers cool and slick against Tony’s sweat-soaked skin.  

Once he was fully seated, Tony panting below him with the urge to just move, Bucky reached around and gripped him firmly, and then started moving, his thrusts pushing Tony forward into his grip and then back again, chasing after the pleasure. The pillows below him had been scattered, and Tony’s cheek was pressed to a soft fleece blanket that smelled of gunpowder and Old Spice – not the modern-day stuff, but the original.  The kind that Tony imagined his grandfather might have worn, if he’d ever known the man.  There was also the fresh scent that accompanied fresh laundry, but it was muted, subtle.  The blanket smelled of Bucky, and Tony turned to press his nose against it, breathing in the scent of the man that was all around him, in and over and holding him secure.

Bucky was murmuring words of praise and devotion into his skin, and the words swept through Tony, making him shudder with him. He might have been begging, his words muffled by the blankets, but Bucky knew what he needed.  He always knew.  His grip tightened, and he slid his metal hand down, stroking the cool metal lightly up Tony’s chest and across his nipples before coming to rest lightly on the side of his throat.  There was no threat there, no inherent danger, but Tony could hear the soft shifting of the metal as the tiny plates shifted, calibrating to keep from pinching, and he cried out as he came, feeling Bucky stiffen behind him, giving a few more hard thrusts before coming as well, a cry wrung from his throat even as his orgasm tore through his body.

Bucky’s weight settled heavily against Tony, who turned his head enough that he could breathe, but otherwise didn’t move, enjoying the weight and the warmth. “Mmm,” he mumbled in appreciation.  Bucky answered with a grunt, and Tony smiled.

After several long moments, and before Tony got too terribly uncomfortable, Bucky pushed himself up with a grunt and staggered in the direction of the bathroom. He came back with a wash cloth and cleaned Tony up, then tossed both the wash cloth and towel across the room, in the general direction of the hamper, before settling back down on his side.  Tony rolled into him, content to let his lover hold him, his face buried in the other man’s throat.

Bucky rummaged around for a moment before tugging up yet another blanket and draping it over the two sated men. “Mmm…like cuddling,” he admitted quietly.

Tony grinned, burrowing further down in the nest so that he was completely surrounded by comforting scents .

“Yeah,” he agreed, already halfway to dozing. “Me, too.”