#“Deaths hand in mine” yeah she sure fucking showed em-

[thyhauntedmansion]

EPISODE 7 SPOILERS but it’s a meme with little context

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

[fanficsandfluff]

Squealing Santa 2k23: All the Maybes in the World

Fandom: Peacemaker (DCEU)

Characters: Peacemaker (Christopher Smith), Vigilante (Adrian Chase)

A/N: Happy Holidays, @fluffy-lee-boa! It has been a hot minute since I've actually watched the show or seen Suicide Squad, but I sure did try my best. Peacemaker is a comfort character of mine, I love him to death, and I just want him to be happy.

Tried my best to take inspiration from your prompt: "Maybe Character A discovering he’s ticklish for the first time and wanting to bond with the Character B so they ask about it."

Thank you @squealing-santa for your organization and hosting another year of this fantastic tradition!

It's been a pleasure being able to provide you with your 2023 Squealing Santa fic!

"Is it bad?"

"No."

"Is it good?"

"If it wasn't bad, wouldn't you then assume it was automatically the opposite?"

"Is it cancer?"

"Adrian, what the fuck."

Christopher Smith pinched his temple between two fingers, letting out a very drawn-out sigh. When he came to his friend about his... well... discovery, let's put it, he had no idea how dense Adrian would be nor how difficult it was for him to actually explain himself.

"Well, you're not giving me the best clues, you know. You can make this clearer and stop beating around the bush if you just admitted you loved me," Adrian said in his oh-so-oblivious yet sincere way, pushing his glasses further up his face. This admission gave Christopher another reason to groan, this time into both hands that now shrouded his face.

"That's-That's not it, Adrian."

"Yeah, okay," Adrian scoffed.

Christopher finally looked up from his dejected position and furrowed his brow. Just come clean. Why was it so hard? He wanted to talk about it in the first place and now that the moment was here, he was too fucking embarrassed.

"Em did something to me that no one's done in a really, really long time and it was... surprising? It just--"

"Who's Em?"

Christopher turned his head to look at Adrian and gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing the nickname had been pretty new to him and her, "Emilia, sorry."

"Who's Emilia?"

Benefit fucking obliterated.

"E-Emilia. You've worked with her for the past month."

"I have?"

"Harcourt--"

"Oh! Why didn't you just say so! Jesus, dude, here I am thinking Emilia was Eagly's other name or something."

Christopher was just about ready to walk out of his own goddamn trailer.

"So..." Adrian scooted a hair closer to Christopher on his buddy's couch, grinning, "What'd you two get up to?"

"She tickled me."

Adrian was still grinning, still nodding his head, tongue poking out like he was hearing some sick story about his best friend and teammate getting it on together, until, "Huh?"

"I know... I didn't know what was happening at first. And I just-- reacted! Then I shut down, she asked me about it, and pssh, I barely knew what the fuck I was feeling so I booked it out of there."

"Why'd you run away?"

"Because..." Christopher's mouth was fully ready to continue speaking, but his brain stopped him short. Why did he leave the situation so quickly? From what he'd heard about it, tickling wasn't too bad. But every part of his body wanted to flee the scene the moment it happened.

"Did Keith ever tickle you?"

In a rare moment of sincere clarity, Adrian hit the nail on the head with that unidentified trauma.

Of course. When the brothers would sneak around to avoid their father, the two would do anything they could to keep their spirits up. And that definitely included a tickle fight here or there, ones that young Christopher would lose more often than not. And if dad ever found them, he'd hurl the homophobic and incestual slurs. So, yeah, Chris never thought about that in a really, really long time. Until today. Until his fight or flight kicked in because of one stray touch along his ribs.

Christopher ended up nodding slowly after what he was sure was many moments of silence as he was taken back to decades ago. Adrian even let him have these moments, which was another big win for his character.

The realization dawned upon Adrian in a heartbeat later, and he was smiling wide, "You're ticklish?"

Chris felt an unfamiliar flush build in his cheeks and he glanced at his friend, "Yes, but don't get any ideas, Adrian, I swear to god."

"Wouldn't dream of it," not, "I just can't believe the Peacemaker is ticklish! Who would've guessed?" even Adrian let out a small, excited giggle.

"And you aren't? Why's it such a big deal? I bet you like it, too, you sick freak," even though Christopher came to Adrian to confess and get some advice about his predicament, he couldn't avoid hurling insults as his defense mechanism. Can't get too close now, remember.

"Oh, I do," Adrian thumbed his glasses again, nodding and possessing a very matter-of-fact look about him, "It's one of my favorite torture methods."

Chris made a face, knowing in that moment Adrian definitely meant to torture and to be tortured.

"What's there to like?" he asked more genuinely.

"It's so much fun, dude! The tingles, the nerve endings, the effortless laughter," Adrian was smiling just thinking about it, and Christopher was squirming at just the mention.

It was then, in basking in the beautiful memories of being involved in tickling, that Adrian reached out and pinched at Christopher's side without abandon. Chris shot off the couch completely, screaming a, "What the fuck!"

Adrian giggled with pure glee coursing through his body at the discovery his best friend laid out before him, "Stop fighting it!" he bolted off the couch and ran straight at Christopher.

They played a brief game of cat and mouse, Chris hurling every kind of insult at Adrian in his avoidance of the inevitable. The ever-determined Adrian wound up cornering Christopher in his bedroom, avoiding objects that were hurled at his head in the process.

"Go fuck yourself. Fuck you, fuck your mom, fuck your aunt--"

"What's Aunt Kathy got to do with this?"

"Well I know you don't have a sister, otherwise I would've banged her already, dipshit."

Adrian grinned disturbingly at the thought. He wouldn't want any part in that intimate affair, of course, but him being able to say that Peacemaker was his brother-in-law was too tempting to not daydream of.

Christopher was genuinely considering jumping out his window once he ran out of small throwable objects. That split second of decision cost him big, as Adrian roundhouse kicked him directly into his bed.

Knowing he had nowhere else to go, nothing else he could do to prevent this, Christopher threw up his hands, "Wait wait wait wait! Adrian, wait!"

"Yeah, buddy?" Adrian straddled Chris and rested his own hands on his hips just waiting for whatever his idol and friend was going to say to him.

Christopher shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths before continuing his thought, "This is still new for me... I'd appreciate it if you, you know..." he swallowed, "took it easy."

Adrian couldn't believe his ears. Had he already converted Christopher into being okay with tickling? Not fighting back as much as his traumatized brain probably wanted him to? Adrian now felt he had a duty to uphold. To take a step in reversing whatever repressed, fucked up memories and feelings Christopher had towards tickling.

"Of course, dude," Adrian assured. He wiggled his fingers in quick anticipation and softly touched down on Christopher's belly. He could feel his friend tense beneath him and watched Christopher's hands land on his own face to cover up.

"No anti-torture techniques now, Mr. Military Man," Adrian chastised.

Adrian did take notice of Christopher making himself more vulnerable by lifting his hands like he did. And the Vigilante was not one to turn down the opportunity, so he clawed at Peacemaker's ribs, not pressing in too hard at the behest of his friend.

Christopher's arms immediately shot down and squeezed to his sides as laughs huffed their way through. When Adrian vibrated his fingers more quickly, that amped up Christopher's laughter, the much larger man rocking from side to side.

"Awesome," Adrian had a smile a mile wide at this discovery, at seeing his best friend and idol laughing this carefree.

Adrian tested out a few more spots on Chris's upper body, all earning him a variety of laughs. When he'd had his fill of exploiting his friend's weakness, he unhooked his legs from atop Christopher and knelt beside him on the bed. Chris took in deep breaths to recover and was rubbing his hands along the parts of his torso that still felt tingly.

"That was so much fun," Adrian decided to pitch in his two cents, smiling broadly.

Christopher was still processing what just transpired. He did think he should be feeling way more self-conscious after being so vulnerable like that, laid bare with all his emotions and his body. But no, he was actually feeling pretty good. Like the tickling was a stress-reliever. He would never admit any of this, however, of fucking course not.

"Economos is gonna die when he hears about this," Adrian seemed to be still in his own little fantasy world post-tickling, giggling at the idea of their teammates face when he tells him of Peacemaker's weakness.

"Oh, fuck no. You're not selling me out to Economos! I trusted you, man!" Christopher, fully on the rebound, saw the glint in Adrian's eyes behind the kid's glasses and the anticipatory smile on his stupid face, and, well... don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Adrian was squealing and laughing before Christopher even laid a finger on him. And yeah, it was clear to Christopher just how much Adrian enjoyed being tickled. Which was actually kinda cute.

And as Christopher was getting his footing being the giver of tickles, not the receiver, he was quickly seeing how much more he preferred this side of it. Doing the tickles. Being a younger sibling first, then only child, he was only ever on the receiving end or receiving nothing at all. Adrian must have been used to this kind of treatment being Gut Chase's kid brother, so maybe that's why it grew like it did within him.

Either way, Chris was fine taking pointers from Adrian on how to tickle him more effectively, which was all kids of fucked. And Adrian swore not to tell anyone else on the team about this. While Adrian and secrets was a ticking time bomb, Christopher knew he needed the time to fully anticipate what was to come. Maybe the team knowing wasn't a bad thing. Maybe he avoided the situation with Emilia too quickly. Maybe there was still a chance for him to feel more grounded day by day, surrounding himself with loving people and loving acts. Fuck, he was getting soft... and maybe soft wasn't a bad thing, either.

[punkscowardschampions]

Casey & Janis Pt.6

Casey: I wouldn’t, nobody, whatever they was offering

Janis: me neither

Casey: fuck it up before they’d made that many transfers anyway, nevermind tried to put a ring on us, out of my hands

Janis: whatever Billie gets a % of won’t be worth it

Casey: depressing, back full circle to the comedown

Janis: it is, no avoiding that

Casey: most people’s lives are, reckon I’ll avoid mine being far as I can do, tah

Janis: mine was

Casey: mine too

Janis: what if we default

Casey: I’m not letting that happen

Janis: what if I do

Casey: try it, mate, you heard, give a shit if you fancy having a strop

Janis: I don’t fancy it, it just happens

Casey: what went on with him won’t with me

Janis: I’m just a moody bitch, I think

Casey: your hormones’ll have nowt to do with what’s in your head soon, claim it while you can before she properly takes over

Janis: she can have it, I’m not claiming none of this bullshit

Casey: I will, least some of

Janis: no, none of it

Casey: what makes me look and feel most good, only that sort of dickhead

Janis: you’re lovely, I’m a nightmare

Casey: don’t start this, I’ve said it before, I’ve had nightmares, you’re not

Janis: you’re so good, it makes me mad when I’m not even coming close

Casey: and it makes me fuming when you reckon you’ve gotta play up as owt for me

Casey: how you feel is how I want you to behave

Janis: I don’t want to get this wrong

Casey: talk to us, keep on doing, and we can’t

Janis: alright but now I do feel naive and like a twat

Casey: what for

Janis: because I don’t know how to apologize or fucking

Janis: make you feel like you’re not walking on eggshells now

Casey: you don’t need to apologise, I overstepped the mark if either of us did, I only wanted to make you feel better, but there’s times in the last decade I can’t make you feel okay about, it don’t matter if you done a list a mile long of everything you never did with him and we crossed every one of ‘em off, there’s shit that won’t be crossed out never

Janis: you were giving me space to talk about what I missed out on, that can’t be seen as anything but a good thing

Janis: it just made me feel like a virgin who don’t want anyone to know again

Casey: you feeling like that ‘cause of something I said is a bad thing, give a fuck if I meant it to be good, it weren’t

Casey: I’m sorry

Janis: please don’t say sorry

Janis: it’s me, I made me feel like that because I wasted half my fucking life now

Casey: but you didn’t, it ain’t gonna be half your life, you’ve got so much fucking time to do whatever the fuck you want

Janis: I don’t wanna feel like I’m having a midlife crisis, it’s fucking humiliating 

Casey: you’re not my dad, and I’ll say again, I’m not your crap missus

Janis: the reminder ain’t needed quite as much as you give it but

Casey: however you feel, one night and I’ll change it ‘round til you’re more alive than anybody we know

Janis: that’s how you always make me feel

Casey: we have them, ‘cause you ain’t 90, but we don’t need years

Janis: you’ll never get bored of me

Casey: chuck all the eggs you want at me, I’ve walked over worse

Janis: no, tell me I’m fun and so easy to live with, tah

Casey: I’ll show you

Janis: okay, I can agree to that

Casey: and agree to marry us, I don’t care if it’s something boring and middle aged dickheads do, it’ll be different when it’s you and me

Janis: did I not already agree to that?

Casey: yeah, but don’t go and change your mind

Janis: it’s not meant to be a death sentence, I want it

Casey: I want you, in every mood

Janis: forever

Casey: I still feel where you wrote it on me

Janis: you're all over me, all different pressures

Casey: forever, an’ all

Janis: I’d feel really alone properly if I couldn’t still feel you right now, I dunno how I hacked that

Casey: if you couldn’t feel me I’d be right there showing up to make sure you did, I can’t hack leaving you alone with none of this, that I had to before

Janis: Soon, we can be together soon and I don’t have to come back here ‘til the AM

Casey: we’re together now, no dickhead in no other room could pay us enough to piss off ‘til [the time she’s supposed to finish working]

Janis: okay, yeah but I can touch you soon and I need to do that

Casey: so touch where you need to, I’ll feel it, challenge accepted

Janis: [just be busy trying to do that, testing your telepathy]

Janis: how do you feel now

Casey: [the most unnecessarily dramatic video response to her efforts so she can fully see and hear his reaction to what she’s trying to do, no fucks given to the fact she’s at work rn, soz, he’s just here still on this bathroom floor, no clothes at all nbd]

Casey: like that, watch it when you’ve got a sec

Janis: his times nearly up, thank God

Janis: I’m trying not to look because I want to pay you proper attention but

Casey: I can wait if you can

Janis: I’m just having a little preview, that’s it

Casey: 🤏

Janis: I can’t just leave you there, looking like that, fuck

Casey: you’ve left us with loads of goosebumps all over

Janis: sorry but you can’t get dressed yet, find another way to stay warm

Casey: be sorrier if I got dressed, when you get to the end you’ll see how much that’d hurt

Janis: I’m behaving, definitely not anywhere near halfway through

Casey: you’ll have to go back and listen

Janis: I wanna see if I’ve got every sound right, just from how it looks on your face

Casey: you will, you knew exactly what you was doing when you caused them, it felt so right

Janis: I know how to make you happy

Casey: and keep me like it for [however long is left of this countdown because we’re back to edging here lol lol]

Janis: until you can be the one I’m on top of again

Casey: they dunno what they agreed to saying yeah to our table

Janis: I’ll try to keep what I do under it but

Casey: no promises, I get it, nor from me

Janis: you’d look too good laid out like that

Casey: ‘til we’ve our own kitchen that’ll fit a table, we’ve gotta use theirs

Janis: I do miss that table

Casey: practiced my DIY on it, there’ll be no bother doing the same fix again

Janis: we can’t go back there, what if one of them came back

Casey: all the what ifs

Janis: my head is racing with them

Casey: my pulse is, it’s in time to how yours were

Janis: [picture of your fitbit vibe ‘cos makes sense you’d have one for the sporty vibe of it all because hard same]

Janis: somehow every reason why we shouldn’t has fucked off though

Casey: [we all know he’d have one too, she probably got him one as a gift at some point because they were sporty bitches together and like what else are you getting a lad his age, and we all also know he’s sending a pic and his heart rate is v similar because they literally are in sync always it’s not just words they’re saying to be intense]

Casey: tell us why we should

Janis: [it’s too real and thus the 😍 selfie response because what else can you do when there’s another person in the room and you wanna be feral af]

Janis: alright, I’ll give it my best shot…

Janis: 1. Last time 2. Every other time we fucked or almost did in that place 3. We know when it’s empty 4. You miss the next doors loads 5. They could come back any moment

Casey: alright, we’ll stay off the table at [whatever this restaurant is called] and get on our old one on our way back

Janis: only 🤏 gutted you didn’t take convincing so we could talk about it some more, like

Casey: I never said stop talking, did I

Janis: reckoned there was too many memories there but

Janis: some of them need to be kept

Casey: *loads

Janis: yeah, that many, all the ones with you and me

Casey: we’d fall out if you said you wanted me to bin any of them, be the first time I’d have a job to do what I’m told

Janis: you’ve got a proper good recall, be a right dickhead to punish you for it

Janis: especially when it makes me feel everything

Casey: think what you’ll feel when you’re on that table wearing [the outfit he’s picking for her to wear to this dinner date which has now clearly just been chosen that second for being feelsy in reference to one of the times they almost fucked in the kitchen that isn’t icecubegate day obvs, we know the vibes that he’s letting her remember without going into any deets besides the outfit ones, because know she’ll recall it too and we’re righting that wrong]

Janis: you should be thinking about it, exactly how you were back then

Janis: thinking about taking [said outfit off] or pushing it to one side, if I really was looking at you like that, how fast my heart was pounding

Casey: can’t be doubting my recall when you just called it proper good

Janis: I’m telling you what to do, have you finally had enough of that?

Casey: I like it too much to get fed up of it, don’t worry

Janis: I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t really, really wanna do

Casey: you’d never wanna do something I didn’t, what we want’s the same

Janis: It is hard to remember many times it weren’t, too in-synch, pissing everyone else off

Casey: it were more than it weren’t, you couldn’t let on some of the time, that’s all

Janis: yeah, couldn’t exactly be that blatant then

Casey: worth the wait

Janis: you are, every time

Casey: you are

Janis: I know you’re being so patient right now

Casey: [a pic of him that is exactly like the flushed bathroom floor pic she sent him because they love to mirror each other]

Janis: you timed that just as he was fucking off, thank God ‘cos you look so 🥺

Casey: I am so 🥺

Janis: what can I do to make it feel better?

Casey: finish watching, it’ll be mutual

Janis: I have 15 minutes ‘til the next one, I can do it

Casey: in 15 mins you can do loads

Janis: you would know

Janis: look how much you’re achieving 

Casey: have to keep on making you proud of us, you know what it means to me

Janis: you mean so much to me, everything

Janis: all I’ve got right now, it’s because of you

Casey: my hormones’ll be in sync with yours if you don’t steady on

Janis: that’s alright, I don’t feel like crying/screaming now, not like that, anyway

Janis: can be your turn

Casey: I’d cry for you if I had it in us

Janis: I know you would

Janis: you never know, tattoo might hurt THAT bad

Casey: maybe if you’d told me I had to get it somewhere else, but I dunno what’d be gayer, paying some lad I went to school with to touch my cock or crying about it when he does

Janis: awh, the gay panic 

Janis: they’ll have seen worse, wouldn’t be phased if you puked, pissed yourself and passed out

Casey: too right they will have

Janis: baby, we both know you’re not going to be bothered by some needles really

Casey: me who ain’t phased by sod all, in the wrong job by the sounds of it

Janis: oh no, I’m jealous

Casey: go into business together if you like

Janis: for people who want really shit tattoos

Casey: have a look ‘round, girl, that’s most

Janis: yeah, alright, you got a point

Janis: you can touch as many lads up as you want then

Casey: piss off, that’s what you already do, why am I taking over it

Janis: ‘cos you’re not allowed to touch any girls

Casey: I’m not touching no lads, whatever you’ve heard from [this tattoo artist boy from school lol] ain’t true

Janis: you’re an idiot

Casey: who’ll stick to serving others drinks

Janis: you can do whatever you want, boy

Casey: it is what I want, ‘til she’s here to need taking care of

Janis: Good

Janis: I don’t need to pretend to be thrilled about you touching anyone up

Casey: we’ve been over before how you’re no actress, mate

Janis: dash my career dreams, dickhead

Casey: your career’s sorted, has been for ages

Janis: not good at much, being able to lowkey assault the customer was the only way it was gonna work for me

Casey: you’re good at everything you give a proper go

Janis: it made sense, haven’t had to think about it much since

Janis: was never trying to take over the world like Rih or fix it like my mum

Casey: there’s no need to, what matters is it don’t do your head in having to live in it

Janis: it works for me, yours will too

Casey: us working together is what’s made sense to me, far back as I can think on

Janis: we’re a good team, always has been true

Casey: and that’s the world she’ll come into, I’m happy with it

Janis: you’re happy, I’m happy

Casey: you’re happy, I’m doing something right

Janis: everything

Casey: how it feels

Janis: it’s true, for us

Casey: yeah, very

Janis: I haven’t been this happy, consistently, never

Casey: there’s fuck all more mutual than that

Janis: marry me 🥰

Casey: [not him doing a countdown until they can, thank god the divorce of it all has appaz been changed to a year now instead of two, how highkey you two are]

Janis: no pressure to work off the baby weight

Casey: none from me, like

Casey: I’ve said how fit you’ll look

Janis: I dunno how well that’ll translate to a wedding dress 

Casey: in my head it does, really well

Janis: oh yeah?

Casey: if you don’t believe us I’ll take you to try some on

Janis: what if I get shy

Casey: I’ll tell the nosy bitch who works there to piss off out

Janis: 😳 maybe

Casey: just think about it

Janis: is your birthday next

Casey: that you promising you’ll look well pregnant by then

Janis: we’re trying, she can’t help being teeny tiny in there

Casey: it’s my fault, barely feeding you nothing today

Janis: we’re busy

Casey: you’re gonna eat for two in a bit, no arguments

Janis: it’ll be 12 weeks, your birthday

Janis: when you can tell people from

Casey: she’s done that as a present for me, knowing I can’t wait to brag to them at work about her

Janis: she is your best mate, after-all

Casey: ask her if she’d rather I go in for her tattoo then

Janis: don’t even need to, she’s my kid, obviously she’s going to want that

Casey: since she’s your kid she might not fancy waiting when she can have it done same time as yours, I dunno

Janis: nah, wants to be special

Casey: should’ve guessed, that’s so like you

Janis: oi 😏

Casey: they’ll be able to hear her heartbeat’s what it says

Janis: yeah, the first scan

Casey: don’t reckon I’ve eaten a plum but that’s how big she’ll be an’ all

Janis: she’ll still be there, won’t she

Casey: yeah, ‘course she will

Janis: can’t feel her yet, no way to know until they tell you

Casey: we do know though, she’s ours, we don’t need nobody to tell us she’s there

Janis: I’m just a bit

Janis: how am I going to do it, who’s coming

Casey: depends how he is

Janis: There’s no way in hell he’ll want to go with us both, I know that already

Casey: might be you and him or you and me do

Janis: neither of those is fair

Casey: what’s fair to her is having the scan and what’s fair to you is you’re not there on your own, it don’t matter about him or me

Janis: We’ve got a whole month or so to think about it, nothing to do about that now

Casey: right, don’t let none of the maybes do your head in when all sorts could happen between today and my birthday

Janis: exactly, I’d rather plan what we’re doing to celebrate 

Casey: other than talking the ear off every dickhead I know or meet about her, I dunno

Janis: you’ve got no ideas, I’ll have to take over then

Casey: my birthday’s usually getting off my face with my mates, but you’re my best mate and you can’t

Janis: you can do that too though

Casey: they’re not gonna fancy hearing about her

Janis: so talk about me

Casey: I don’t wanna hear what they’d have to say, you’re not like the lasses they’re with or I were before

Janis: alright

Casey: I don’t care about the bollocks they’re bothered about no more

Janis: so is it new friends too or

Casey: it’s me and you, you’re the only mate I need

Janis: you know I’m not trying to isolate you

Casey: you know it’s not like that

Janis: but if you still want to go get trashed with your mates and talk about whatever the fuck, then you’re allowed to do that too

Casey: I said I don’t, I’d fall out with them, why would I wanna spend my birthday doing that when I could spend it with you

Janis: okay, I just have to say

Casey: my arm ain’t been behind my back once, you don’t force us into nowt I don’t fancy, never

Janis: it ain’t a habit I’m looking to pick up, just keeping on top of it

Casey: I can’t think what we should get up to ‘cause it’s only just now hitting me it’s alright if I spend my birthday alone with you

Casey: we couldn’t for none of my others, not properly

Janis: yeah it’s mental, we’ve never had this sort of freedom

Janis: sometimes I forget we’re not just hiding in our flat in our own little world

Casey: there’s too many places I’d take you and things I’d do if you just said pick whatever

Janis: there’s years to make up for but we’ve got more

Casey: and yours to celebrate together, not even started on them

Janis: she’ll be here by then, gatecrashing

Casey: when’ll hers be

Janis: [around the time because you can’t be that exact but her actual bday is 17th Sept so like a month before Janis’ and 9 days after Jimmy’s]

Casey: near his

Janis: yeah

Casey: and my mum’s, maybe she’ll do that for us an’ all, let me celebrate it again

Janis: have to see if her timings that good

Casey: how good of a mate she is

Janis: but no pressure, yeah 😏

Casey: not the sort of dad I’ll be

Janis: can’t believe you’re still such a baby, how are you only turning 22

Casey: Oi, who you calling a baby, love

Janis: what you gotta be one for, mate

Casey: I’m not one

Janis: I’ll be 25, may as well be 90

Casey: calm yourself down, you’re not turning 45

Janis: you wish

Casey: what you starting on me for, dickhead

Janis: I’m not, just a joke

Casey: you’d not be laughing if I was with her next door instead of you, about how old she is, ain’t it

Janis: so she says but her face is at least a decade older

Casey: 😏

Janis: you couldn’t pull mrs next door, she hates you

Casey: she don’t have to like us to fuck us

Janis: some people do actually think that’s a requirement, like

Casey: her’d be mad for any attention, especially off someone as fit as me

Janis: 🙄 cocky little shit

Casey: less of the little and it’s a compliment

Janis: I’m not in a complimenting mood but 🤏 cute

Casey: stick to calling me your baby and I’ll give you all the compliments you like, put you in a better mood

Janis: the next doors must be barren, or their kids hate them, she wouldn’t be able to call you baby without crying off

Casey: be a right ugly crier, not like you

Janis: I miss you

Casey: how long’s it

Janis: [do your timer moment]

Casey: nah, fuck that, I need to see you

Janis: you have to wait

Casey: I can’t

Janis: we already had our two hour lunch

Casey: ages ago

Janis: pisstake, ain’t it

Casey: hang on, I’m practicing putting on a fake limp

Janis: I don’t just do walk-ins, you know, got a long waiting list, tah v much

Casey: bit rude you wouldn’t for me if I’d dived for a ball or some bollocks how they do

Janis: you’re special, are you

Casey: I’ve heard it somewhere before, yeah

Janis: you know I’d love to see you but I only have 2 more dickheads to go today

Casey: alright

Janis: If we don’t try, I’m never going to get better at this

Casey: you’re perfect at it

Janis: to you, but I can barely concentrate and all I wanna do is walk out the door any given minute to come find you

Casey: I’m sorry, last thing I for real fancy doing is fucking up your waiting list

Janis: I wouldn’t change it but I know I have to behave 

Casey: I’ll leave you to get on how I said I would with that other dickhead, behave myself

Janis: but

Casey: we best try, you said it

Janis: and we’re alright?

Casey: we’re okay, that beats alright

Janis: good, don’t ever be mad at me and not say shit, do my head in

Casey: I’ve not got it in us to behave in a way that does owt but let every dickhead in the world know when I’m fuming, have I

Janis: could have it in you to sulk for the rest of my shift, it’s legit not that long

Janis: but I believe you

Casey: if you want me to stick my bottom lip out for the rest of your shift, I will do, I can give it all that 🥺 whenever

Casey: but I’m proud of you, promise

Janis: ‘course I want that and then some but it’s a mixed signal when I’m telling you we’ve gotta try

Janis: listen to myself and give it a shot

Janis: love you the most

Casey: love you more, I’ll be stood there bang on [the time] waiting with my 🥺 that proves it

Casey: and your clothes

Janis: [recite the outfit he said he’d bring]

Casey: [likewise remind her of what you’ll be wearing and why]

Janis: 😍 I can see you so clearly, gonna have to pinch me to prove you’re real when you’re actually here

Casey: we’ve gone harder with weirder foreplay in public, be alright

Janis: when was it weird 😢

Casey: it weren’t ever as far as I’m concerned, but if you start an office poll you’ll never crack on with your last dickheads

Janis: I am not dying to hear any of their input or latest situationship woes, don’t worry

Casey: and if I let you hear all the reminders of what I actually thought about it you won’t behave how you’ve gotta

Janis: fuck this, it’s too hard

Casey: no, you can do it, baby

Casey: I’ve seen you keep on with harder shit than this like it were piss easy

Janis: but I wanna hear or surely I won’t concentrate, imagining what you could be imagining 

Casey: [obvs do go into all the deets I cannot remember about every public hookup y’all have had so far and how into every second of it you were, boy]

Janis: [add your own mems in because likewise but also send him a covert pic of this client like I’m working, don’t worry lmao]

Casey: I’m trying to be jealous but I fucking can’t of him, like

Janis: I wouldn’t [whatever the most unhinged thing y’all did in public was, matter of opinion I suppose but you get the point lol] for him

Casey: or [an unhinged thing they haven’t done but he’s proposing they do outside her place of work when he shows up like a heathen, probably don’t, whatever it is, but you know]

Janis: anything for you, just you

Casey: for us both, you’ll like it as much

Janis: could be more

Casey: we’ll see, I’m getting into that phrase 🤏

Janis: so daddy

Casey: it’s always a yeah for my girls though

Janis: the only kind of we’ll see I want to hear 😈

Casey: now I’m allowed to say yeah you’ll never hear me telling you no

Janis: how am I meant to not entirely abuse that power

Casey: you must be meant to, if you dunno what else

Janis: you’ll like it as much

Janis: promise

Casey: I trust you

Janis: you’re so special, for real

Casey: you

Janis: you, I’m going to make tonight so good for you

Casey: I’ll bend over backwards to make it a date that’s as special as you are, with or without bending you over a table an’ all

Janis: and then I’m keeping you company all night

Casey: if she makes you tired there’s somewhere I can put you, I’ve already sorted it

Janis: intriguing 

Casey: looking after you’s first thing in my head anywhere I go

Janis: you kill me

Casey: I just can’t concentrate on owt ‘til I’ve got a plan for you that means you’re okay, they’d get no real work out of me else

Janis: there’s no one better than you, to look after us

Casey: can she hear how shit the music is, I want her having better taste than what they play

Janis: not yet, she’s not invited anyway, it’s our time alone

Casey: that’s alright then, know you’ve some taste

Janis: oi, what you saying I’ve not got taste in now

Casey: first husbands

Janis: well, not a lot I can say to that one

Casey: least he does look like us, you can have that

Janis: Casey

Casey: yeah, I know

Janis: it won’t end well if we start talking about him, if we even can

Casey: ignore me, it’s not funny, it probably can’t ever be

Janis: nah it’s just like, even if I did admit he was wrong for me or whatever

Janis: don’t change what’s happened

Casey: it’s an old habit, they’re not easy to change neither, but I get it

Janis: you were just pointing out what was obvious to you, not mad at you for it, then or now

Casey: don’t be mad at me and not say shit yourself, long as you ain’t, we’re still alright

Janis: he’s the underdog now, be a dickhead move for me to try laughing about it but you’re getting used to the role reversal, no worries

Casey: I haven’t stopped making dickhead moves, I dunno if I ever will

Janis: it is different though, him and Bobby have fucked you over too, more mutual

Janis: I cheated on him, black and white case there

Casey: there’s no need to make excuses for us

Janis: just what I reckon

Casey: what I reckon is, he’s no underdog if he got what was coming to him, not seeing it coming isn’t the same thing as him getting what he got ‘cause of what he did or didn’t bother to be doing, sod all’s black and white, we’re all grey

Janis: its hard to see myself as wronged in any sort of way, guess I feel too guilty

Casey: he left you first, I saw it and you felt it, it don’t make what happened okay, it means he’s not the only one fucked over

Janis: okay

Casey: he can be a victim without needing to be a saint as well as

Janis: you’re right, I know you are

Casey: he hurt you and that matters even if nobody else has a clue about it

Janis: you saw it, you care

Casey: but I didn’t do nowt soon enough, I feel guilt for that

Janis: I didn’t help myself either, I’m not helpless, not usually

Casey: I could’ve stood up and said something to stop the wedding, nearly did

Janis: it was a mess, we all were

Casey: I let you down, him too

Janis: it wasn’t your job, it’s okay

Casey: it weren’t a job you could do, you still loved him, and he wasn’t gonna do it himself

Janis: you were a kid, there’s nothing you could’ve done

Casey: I’ve not been a real kid since I don’t even fucking know when

Janis: I know

Janis: none of us can go that far back and do what we should’ve

Casey: I just need you to know that I know where my blame goes, how much there is

Janis: I can’t blame you but I hear what you’re saying still

Janis: things had to happen the way they did, what if it was back then and he took it even worse

Casey: everyone’s gonna say I don’t feel none, ‘cause I’m not sorry this has happened, and I reckon you’re right it had to, but long as you’ve heard what I’ve got guilt about

Janis: I know you do, they can say whatever but they don’t know the half

Janis: I can say I can’t stop thinking about if you had stopped it but still feel guilty

Janis: we don’t have to bring up the reminder every day, every time we reckon we’ve got out of line

Casey: he’s punished you enough and you’ll do the rest without it being worth me or any other twat having a go

Janis: of course I look back and want you to stop me, make me admit how I feel about you

Casey: part of us was too busy shitting myself you wouldn’t, that’s my fucking weakness, and I won’t get rid of it, not fully, ‘cause you didn’t put it there

Janis: there ain’t a man alive that wouldn’t be in that situation, sod the shit put in your head

Janis: most would’ve given up years before that, written it off as over before anything could ever happen

Casey: but the shit put in my head is what tells me I should’ve done, to give up all the bloody time

Casey: what I hate more about Jim than how we’re different and them making it us who’s loads better, is how deep down we’re not different enough

Janis: but you didn’t and we’re here now

Janis: I know you’re talking about more than just me though but how many of your mates you know are in their career path, or even a job they get owt out of but their minimum wage

Janis: your parents fucked you up but it’s normal to have next to no fucking clue what you’re doing at your age, you’re cannier than loads to realise you want to be somewhere else

Casey: I can’t stop myself thinking he can’t let go of you either, just like I couldn’t and didn’t

Janis: He has

Casey: but has he, not really

Janis: yes, he has

Janis: not moving on instantly isn’t the same as holding on, he could not want me less if he tried

Casey: him not wanting you no more but doing sod all about it is the flipside to me wanting you more than anything but doing sod all about it, it’s all not giving up when you should do

Janis: how the fuck do you want me to take this

Casey: I don’t know, I’m just trying to make sense of it

Janis: either way, liking me is a problem you both share

Casey: don’t, it’s not something I regret

Janis: just something you should both get over

Casey: no, I’m only worried he can’t

Janis: no it’s great, I’m just a fucked up coping mechanism for you two, thanks

Casey: why have you gotta take it like that

Janis: read back what you just said, or don’t, this is your issue to work through

Casey: there’s only an issue if you properly think you’re just owt of the sort to me

Janis: like I said, I don’t know how else you expected me to take that

Casey: you could take it as I’m chatting shit and doing my head in, and yours, over bollocks that isn’t true, tell me that

Janis: I don’t know, Case, I can’t tell you that’s not true, it might fucking be 

Casey: you’re the one person who can, you know us, tell me I don’t have to be scared of that, that I’m not as fucked up as that

Janis: how can you sit here and ask me if you should’ve given up, if you’re as bad as him for not

Casey: ‘cause I’d rather die than treat you how he has, use you like he did

Janis: what it really is is you think I’m making the same mistake, again

Janis: I didn’t pick right the first time and I’ve done no better this time either

Casey: I don’t want to think it, none of it

Janis: so stop it, fucking stop

Casey: it’s not empty words, I trust you with my fucking life

Casey: all your decisions I get them more than I get my own

Janis: It’s not remotely similar, not to me, it’s the literal opposite

Casey: I dunno what to do when my head gets hijacked by this shit

Janis: it’s self-sabotage, I can only point it out if I see it, I can’t make you stop doing it

Casey: I’m so scared of hurting you it’s gonna end up making me

Janis: then do it now and you’ll have nothing left to be scared of

Casey: no, fuck that

Janis: it’s been said

Janis: I know it’s not you talking

Casey: I said it, and you heard us say an’ all there’s no need to make excuses for me

Janis: if you tell me that’s not how you meant it, then I’m going to take your word for it

Casey: it’s still not alright

Janis: you were trying to work shit out

Casey: you’re not my fucking lab rat to try shit out on, I can’t just say what the fuck I like ‘cause it’s in my head

Janis: yeah, you can

Janis: that’s what we do, I do it to you all the time

Casey: I can’t, I feel a twat now

Janis: I’m not promising to just be a sounding board for it, you should know I’d be bad at that

Casey: I’d go back to [school therapist] if I was after someone to nod at my total bollocks

Janis: buzzing as she’d inevitably be

Casey: old enough she can more than hug, ‘course she would

Janis: 🤮

Casey: yeah, same

Janis: how did you even get to thinking about this

Casey: I dunno

Janis: idiot

Casey: I felt like I’d let you down and then

Casey: it kept on and on from there

Janis: you let me down in your estimations only, in everyone else’s that was my own mess to get in and out of

Janis: there’s plenty of ways I feel like I let you down that no one else would ever reckon was my place

Casey: how do I chuck him out my head

Janis: dunno if you can

Janis: you have to let better shit in, properly, that’s about it

Casey: okay

Janis: let me in and don’t try and chuck me out

Casey: you are in and I’ve never wanted you to piss off

Janis: you aren’t a quitter, you’re famously the opposite, and that’s a good thing, you can’t spin it into a bad one

Casey: he did

Janis: ‘cos everything in his life has to be shit or how would anyone take his misery seriously

Casey: I’m tired of hearing him

Janis: lucky you won’t be hearing nothing but me soon

Casey: we don’t have to, I get I’ve pissed on it

Janis: I need to eat, you said so yourself

Casey: but there’s loads of ways other than

Janis: tables booked, I’m going

Casey: I booked it, don’t need telling

Janis: I’m saying you can come if you want but I will be if you don’t

Casey: what do you want

Janis: do I wanna sit at dinner alone or do I wanna spend time with you

Casey: simple question, girl

Janis: if I was building your self-esteem, I’d make you answer yourself

Janis: but obviously I want to be with you

Casey: I’ll obviously be there 

Janis: I’m sorry, I flipped my lid like that

Casey: you had a right to, what I said

Janis: I’d rather I’d said something dead helpful though

Janis: not made you feel like a twat

Casey: I did that to myself, I was so chuffed to bits for us to be going out and to be having you at work, only to fuck it all up

Janis: you’ll get into it, don’t I always make you feel better

Casey: it’s ‘cause I were that happy, what if I keep on with this bollocks whenever we are

Janis: then we’ll still be happy and I’ll get to have a right go at you too, win win, boy 

Casey: 😁 

Casey: warned you my hormones was as fucked as yours

Janis: I know you’re as fucked as me, if anyone can handle you, its me, same when you flip it

Casey: that’s okay then, we are

Janis: you will be, your heart and head’ll stop racing in a sec when you realise you’re never losing me

Casey: might have ‘em racing more, just the opposite way

Janis: more fun that way

Casey: Let’s piss off somewhere for my birthday, only fair if the kids are gatecrashing the honeymoon

Janis: anywhere?

Casey: the one rule is nowhere you’ve been before, no reminders of when photographers tried to touch you up

Janis: I can work with that

Casey: [throw out some suggestions that I won’t commit us to rn because even he can’t remember everywhere she’s ever been]

Janis: [❌ off the ones you have like lol]

Janis: I’ll surprise you, if you want

Casey: forgot how you got about

Casey: but yeah, go on

Janis: unless

Casey: what

Janis: if you wanted, could go back to Manchester

Casey: rulebreaker, you’ve been there

Janis: it’s your birthday

Casey: we’ll take her when she can pick the accent up, bit late for you

Janis: you like my accent, dickhead 😏

Casey: 😏

Janis: fine, I’ll never speak to you again 😶

Casey: I give it [what’s left of the timer + a literal minute like she’ll last that long and no longer] before you break that rule too

Janis: 🕐👀

Casey: as it goes, I do like your accent, but she’s gonna look like you, so you can let me have it

Janis: you who wants her to look like me as well

Casey: nah, her

Casey: you who said I’d be an ugly girl

Janis: I stand by it

Janis: I’d be gutted if you were a girl

Casey: I’d not be that buzzing myself, be right hard work getting all them rumours about you to turn out true, nevermind the satisfaction it’d give loads of dickheads who weren’t us

Janis: 💔 your gay angst would be SO real

Janis: it is well bold of you to assume she’ll be a girl when your family is incapable of producing them, clearly

Casey: what were it you said a sec ago about shutting up

Casey: and I’m assuming nowt, heard it off her herself, she’d know

Janis: this don’t count, tah

Janis: you better hope she’s not just well confused

Casey: we’ve been over it, she’s your kid and like you she wants to be special, only lass’ll sort that

Janis: harsh, you’re special

Casey: to you, being their favourite don’t count for this

Janis: I think you are a lesbian, like

Casey: and I reckon you’re a dickhead, like

Janis: soz I like you ‘cos you’re such a lad, babe

Casey: be gutted else ‘cause I ain’t well confused so

Janis: you’re the least confused person I know

Casey: tah very much

Janis: and hottest

Casey: have to get to know yourself better, ‘cause that’s you

Janis: I know myself too well thanks to you

Casey: good, you can go tell her in the shop about me, don’t reckon she believed us when I said I had a daughter I were buying for

Janis: I told you, babyface

Janis: blokes always use the weirdest techniques to come onto girls so can’t say I’m surprised her head was there

Casey: the confidence, you’re not my type, love, calm yourself

Janis: I’ll let her know

Casey: you have to, there’s loads I’ve gotta go back for and I can’t be bothered if she’s gonna follow us about while I am

Janis: you’re a busy dad

Janis: ‘course I will, swear

Casey: [show her all the pics you took to remind yourself of all the other cute shit you wanna get and also to show baby Jac like she can pick because you’re a nerd]

Janis: spoilt cow

Casey: I’ve promised I won’t leave you out

Janis: shopping for mini versions of shit is more fun, I get it

Casey: why we’ll do it together

Janis: you’re better at it than me, I dunno what she wants

Casey: you know loads more than you give yourself credit for, I’m always saying it

Janis: hmm

Casey: and what you don’t, ask her, never shuts up neither, takes after you for it

Janis: gonna have to invest in some good headphones again, like

Casey: oi, you’ll like her accent, I’m gonna work dead hard on it

Janis: what if I don’t like her, what am I gonna do

Casey: you’ll love her

Janis: you can’t promise that

Casey: I can, I already know it’s true

Janis: people drown their kids in baths

Casey: not people like you

Casey: and anyway, why do you reckon I’d sit there and let you, I’d give you a hand, get you the help you needed if your head were that done in by it

Janis: you might not know, don’t think you go ‘round telling everyone, sort of makes you sound like a piece of shit

Casey: you’d say something or I’d see it

Janis: you have to, keep an eye on me

Casey: you’ll not be on your own for none of it ‘cause we’re a team, it’s not about not trusting you

Janis: you can trust me, I don’t

Casey: you can lean on me when you’re scared, I ain’t

Janis: how aren’t you scared

Casey: she’s ours, there’s nobody better to take care of her than both of us

Janis: I want to be as unconfused as you, I meant it

Casey: you will, when we’re a family and you see how good it is, all of us together

Janis: we have to make it stick, no good family I’ve ever been a part of has

Casey: I haven’t had a good family ‘til now, I’ll fight to keep this one

Casey: FOREVER, how you wrote, I mean it

Janis: I mean it too, I won’t lose it

Casey: you trust me not to, I trust you not to

Janis: I trust you with it all, always

Casey: it’s mutual, my love, couldn’t be more

Janis: okay, are you ready to come meet me, nearly done here

Casey: Nearly there, more like

Casey: walked past [somewhere v nearby] a minute ago

Janis: 😍 I’ve missed you so much it’s dumb

Casey: I miss you, it’s stuck in my throat as a massive lump, can’t even say it

Janis: swallow

Casey: [obvs do and send her it + you then saying you miss her, just a casual little video]

Janis: no, changed my mind, spit in my mouth right now

Casey: counting down every fucking second ‘til a hello like that

Janis: only kind you deserve

Casey: *you

Casey: [+ completely unnecessary audio of him spitting]

Janis: give me it

Casey: come here

Janis: [do the minute you can rush out this door like goodbye ladies]

Casey: [pull her into a gap between this building and another, or something like that, the second she appears, so you’re not just spitting into this girls mouth in full view of anyone, including potentially her clients and co-workers]

Janis: [not for y’alls eyes thank you very much, we need to be alone as much as that is possible on a high street so excuse us, just making out with a messy intensity only y’all ever would]

Casey: [god bless, the feels are high, as per, you do need to, just telling her ‘I missed you’ over and over too, like look how well I can say it now]

Janis: [saying it back until you’re literally out of breath combined with the dramatic kissing you’re doing opposed to taking one second to breathe ever about it]

Casey: [I’d like to point out that he’s showered and either shaved or done himself a little haircut/maybe both to make an effort for this date, but more importantly he’s bought her some chocolates cos it’s a cliche romantic date gift but it’s also food and the whole eating for two of it all, so thrusting said chocolates at her lowkey aggressively for such a soft gesture cos !! as they continue to makeout and get even more lightheaded]

Janis: [absolutely love that for you, sir, making yourself look so good for your date, adorable, you can tell we’re appreciating by sniffing on you DEEPLY in this makeout, as if we weren’t inhaling dramatically before, now fully just getting high off you, nbd; trying (but failing realistically) not to squash these chocolates between your bodies, soz we’re overwhelmed by the entire energy of this ‘will I pass?’ like am I gonna look good enough compared to you now boy]

Casey: [we all know he gets high off her all the time and she looks amazing always, even (and especially in his POV cos he likes her best when she’s wilding lol) after work and all their feral antics, GRINNING into these continuous kisses, caps needed, at her appreciation since he was nervous of going too hard and looking like as much of an excited nerd about this date as it’s obvious he is (especially with the earlier self sabotage of it all) + only helping her with the utter destruction of these chocolates by pulling her closer and doing the thing where he then carries on trying to when she can’t get any closer ‘can’t fail us, you’ so sincerely and full of love about this]

Janis: [we are GRINNING back with our everything because if there’s one thing we appreciate hardcore, it’s your unabashed enthusiasm and therefore we will always return the energy; catching a chocolate that’s trying to escape this squashed box and popping it in his mouth so y’all can make an absolute meal out of that and then be very amused at your realistic shit eating grins ‘you never do’ as we’re wiping some chocolate from your lips with HUGE heart eyes, leaving our finger on the tip of our tongue after we’ve used it to clean you up]

Casey: [take a sec to be gross, we’re all very thankful it’s chocolate and not actual shit knowing what you pair are like, her HUGE hearteyes would be killing him though, despite the fact he’s obvs giving them back, so use your enthusiasm she loves so much to do the absolute most with her finger, that goes without saying, can’t let her down ever, please stop short of making yourself throw up though sir considering all the effort you’ve made to look nice]

Janis: [you aren’t allowed to get that messy, lads, best behaviour as much as you ever do, thank you, just attempting to get some of our energy out before the restaurant which we know is basically a pointless task but you’re trying lol]

Casey: [we all respect that you’re trying not to be feral hogs during what is supposed to be a cute date vibe, you won’t succeed I’m sure, but god bless, I hope you’re not carrying her clothes and they are in some sort of bag so they don’t get covered in rapidly melting and squashed chocolate cos that’s not allowed either]

Janis: [would not be the look, also are you gonna quickly pop back in and change, attempt to do it here, love to know babes]

[thefanficmonster]

Power Couple

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing 

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Sean, Felix, Dave, and Joel welcome Corpse’s girlfriend to a game of Party Animals. It’s her first time playing and she has to deal with a lot more than just the controls and objectives - her boyfriend being a cute, cuddly sweetheart with ulterior motives to his clinginess.

Requested by @susceptible-but-siriusexual. Thank you so much for your request! Hope I captured what you wanted and how you wanted. Feel free to send any other requests you may have XOXO

It’s been one hell of a day. Had to correct twice as many documents as I was originally supposed to at work; found my car with a flat tire in the parking lot as I was about to go home; argued with my boss over the phone while stuck in a traffic jam. It’s been a rough twelve hours, but it has led me here and that’s what I’d rather think about.

By ‘here’ I mean I’m sitting on the couch in Corpse’s recording room, my computer in my lap, my screen displaying the screen to the game Party Animals. The suggestion was Corpse’s. He immediately picked up on my below par mood and wasted no time finding a solution to bright up the remainder of the day, shadowing the shitty portion of it. I am not what you would call a gamer. Sure I’ve played Among Us with Corpse and his friends a few times. Even that I struggle to do because I’m internally fangirling over all the people in the lobby. Yeah, dating a youtuber doesn’t mean you automatically stop gushing over the many content creators on the platform you’ve been watching for quite some time now. Corpse knows how nervous I get so he’s always near me when we play with Sean, Felix and the other. All he has to do is give me that encouraging smile and wink of his and I’m good to go. Side note: massive props to him for going easy on me in Among Us, getting teasingly called ‘simp’ by his friends in the process.

“You’ll love it.“ He promised me over and over again as the game was downloading on my computer.

“I don’t doubt that, Corpse. But I am going in completely blind and I seriously don’t wanna embarrass myself.“ I mumble a quick ‘nor you‘ under my breath, hoping he doesn’t catch it because I’m in for a pep talk if he does. 

To my dismay, he does, “Listen here, you couldn’t embarrass me even if you actively tried to do something outrageous. Most likely scenario, I’d join you in the act.” He ducks in front of the couch so we’re at eye level, his hand coming up to cup my cheek in the sweetest, most comforting gesture ever. “We’ll show em who’s the boss at stealing candy.”

I can’t help but laugh, feeling unable to express just how much this man means to me. Words can’t do the feeling justice.

“Y/N!“

“Y/N!!“

“Corpse Wife has arrived!“

Hearing all the greetings lights a flame in my chest, the warmth spreading all the way to my neck and cheeks. “Hi guys! Missed playing with you!”

“We missed you too!“ Dave, the only one of the gaming gang I’ve actually met in person, replies to me, his words along with all the others’ wrapping around me like a comfort blanket. Despite them knowing I’m a fan of theirs, they’ve always made me feel welcomed, comfortable, nothing less than them.

“You know anything about this game?“ Felix asks me.

I shake my head, almost forgetting he can’t see me, “Corpse told me it’s funny and cute. It sounds like the perfect game for me.” 

“Oh no, this is a game of survival. Survival of the fittest!“ Sean shouts excitedly, a bang following his shout I can only assume was him hitting his desk.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty fit.“ I shrug my shoulders, laughing along with the guys.

“This is the only way to find out if you actually are.“ Joel’s voice comes through my headphones in the form of a tease.

Sean mumbles quietly to himself as he’s deciding how to separate us in two teams. “Guys, a little help here. We all suck at this game, it doesn’t really matter who’s in which team.”

“Actually...“ Felix trails off, “Corpse and Y/N are the ultimate power couple in Among Us. Chances are they will be in this as well. So, the only logical move would be to...“

“I’m taking Y/N, you take Corpse.“ Sean declares. “Joel, Dave, who do you guys wanna be with?“

And the game starts. Sean, Joel and I are the Meowfia while Corpse, Felix and Dave are yet to choose a team name. We throw around snarky, cocky comments at each other, taunting the opposite team as we struggle to take the candy to our respective sides of the map.

“Don’t you dare pull that lever, Dave!“ I launch at Dave, knocking his cute avatar away from the lever, buying Joel and Sean some time to steal back the gummy bear Corpse and Felix took from us.

“Y/N! Joel is out! Help me!“ Sean is freaking out now. I ditch Dave’s unconscious body and run to Sean’s aid. 

As I’m helping him push it towards out area a member from the opposite team latches onto my avatar, weighing me down and hindering me from doing anything.

“Hug!“ Corpse laughs as he has literally turned into a koala, holding onto my avatar.

“Corpse, you know you are actually supposed to hinder Y/N, not hug her. It’s cute though, don’t get me wrong.“ Felix laughs as him and Sean continue to struggle over the gummy bear.

“Nah, his tactic’s great. I can’t do shit.“ I desperately try and shake him off, “Babe, this is unfair. I can’t even be mad at you!“ I whine, staring to panic now that Dave is back to life and Joel is nowhere to be seen.

The round is won by Felix, Dave and Corpse who, if I might add, didn’t let go of me for the rest of the game.

We switch maps, now every man for himself. We’re on the submarine, recreating the Hunger Games with cute fuzzy animals. The thought passes through my mind, causing me to giggle.

“Y/N, you sound exactly like I’d imagine your avatar to sound. You’re so cute.“ Sean’s avatar circles mine a few times as he laughs.

He’s not wrong, my pale blue puppy is indeed cute. Apparently immortal as well.

“How is Y/N still alive?! Holy shit, her and Corpse really are a power couple.“ Dave shrieks when he sees me pick up the freeze gun. “NOOO!“ He shouts, devastated by the fact I shot him, sending him straight to his death.

“Chill, Dave. It’s all cool. Nothing personal.“ I struggle to hide my laughter, “No hard feelings, right?“

“Of course not, love.“ I can tell he grits the sentence through clenched teeth.

“Aw Dave, you are such an ice guy.“ I giggle, now shooting Joel with the gun.

“Someone take that gun from her!“ Sean cries as him and Felix race up the submarine.

Suddenly, the avatar of my boyfriend again wraps itself around mine. I hadn’t seen him in a while, considering Sean knocked him into the ocean earlier in the round. 

“How are you still alive?!“ I try to spin my puppy to get him to let go but he holds on tightly. “Babe, I swear, you are cute and I love you, but this is ridiculous. How and why are you alive?”

“That’s his superpower! He never fucking dies.“ Felix laughs, letting out a yelp when he briefly slips while climbing.

“Immortals!!! Immortals!!!“ Sean breaks out into a song, a song I really like, breaking the restraints I had on my laughter.

“Drop the gun or we’re dying together.“ He says almost seriously. Even though I can only see the back of his head I know he’s grinning.

“A Titanic/Romeo and Juliet mashup? Why not? I can live with dying a double historical death.“ Even though I appear accepting of his offer, I’m still trying to set myself free.

In the end, Sean claims his first win of the game and the rest of us are dead at the bottom of the ocean. Corpse and I did indeed die a Romeo and Juliet/Titanic death, getting everyone in their feels. We make a deal to get together and play again as soon as possible and we all go our separate ways, exiting the Discord call.

*Later that night* 

After a dinner consisting of takeout and two thirds of a shitty romantic comedies, Corpse shifts from next to me, starting to get up from the couch. I am surprised to feel jolted out of a half sleep as the room is now completely silent, the TV being turned off.

“Hey where’re you going?“ I ask groggily, rubbing my sleepy eyes.

“I have some editing to do. Don’t worry, I won’t stay up too late.“ He kisses my forehead before grabbing his phone from the coffee table.

Just as he’s about to walk away, I wrap my arms around his legs. He laughs, catching onto what I’m insinuating. His chuckle brings a smile to my face and butterflies in my belly. No matter how long we date for or how much time we spend together, some things never change. 

“Payback, huh?“ He asks, the smile audible in the question. I keep my eyes shut but nod, my arms still around his legs. “Alright, you koala. You’re coming with me.”

In his recording room, he settles in his chair placing me in his lap in a way that my legs dangling off to the side, my side leaning against his chest, my face hidden in the crook of his neck. We’re both comfortable, content and relaxed.

I don’t know when exactly it happens, but all my mind has registered is a quiet ‘I love you’ and the soft touch of Corpse’s lips on my temple. I manage to reply with an ‘I love you too’ before my sleepiness consumes me, my body completely relaxing against his, the warmth of his body, his scent, the sound of his breathing making me feel safe and loved: the two feelings I want him to feel with the same intensity when I’m in his arms.

Something tells me he does.

@simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios  @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help

[daenqyu]

heather | kaminari denki

— gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @misakachan

pairing: kaminari x fem!reader | platonic!kirishima x fem!reader

genre: LOTS of angst, some comfort(?)

summary: kaminari had been oblivious to your feelings for years now, and at first it was okay, you didn’t mind hiding them. until you noticed the way he looked at her and suddenly, it wasn’t okay anymore.

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.6k

a/n: this is my first time writing and posting for a bnha character so i really hope you guys like it <3 i usually don’t write angst, but i couldn’t stop thinking about this and decided to write it down and i’m very happy with how it turned out.

« i still remember third of december

me in your sweater, you said it looked better

on me, than it did you, only if you knew

how much i liked you »

YOUR whole body trembled thanks to the coldness surrounding you, the snow decorating the floor and trees being a clear sign that winter had already begun in japan. you hugged your arms in a poor attempt to provide yourself some kind of heath, only to be met with the feeling of your cold hands. out of all the days you could’ve forgotten your jacket, it had to be on one of the coldest days of december. profanities fell from your lips as you tried your best to endure the pain until the bus came, but you were sure you would pass out by then. or maybe you were exaggerating.

the bus stop wasn’t that far away from your house, maybe if you ran you could get your jacket and get back on time to catch the bus. you checked your phone to see the time, a groan leaving your lips as you realized that was going to be practically impossible. if you left now, by the time you came back the bus would be long gone. dammit, why do i have to forget everything?

“well well, look who we have here.” your ears perked up as soon as you heard the male’s voice, a small smile making its way to your lips.

kaminari made his way over to you, both hands on his pockets as he returned the smile, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. the smile didn't falter until he took note of your current state. his eyes widened with concern and his hands worked fast to take his jacket off.

“denki, what are you doing?” confusion was evident on your face, but that didn’t stop the blonde from wrapping you up in the warm material.

you blushed from the sudden proximity, his face just inches away as he finished zipping up the piece of clothing. it didn’t take long before his cologne filled your nostrils and you basked in the comfort it gave you; it smelled like home. kaminari’s smile returned to his face when he saw your body visibly relax at the newfound heath, even though goosebumps began to form on his skin by the sudden change of temperature. he could handle being cold for a few hours.

“there, now you won’t die of hypothermia.”

“but what about you?”

he shrugged, tilting his head to the side before answering, “it’s fine, it looks better on you anyways.”

you knew he probably meant it in a friendly way, but you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat at the compliment. suddenly you felt all warm inside, and it wasn’t because of the jacket. but rather the effect your best friend had on you.

right.

the smile slowly disappeared from your face, replaced with a hurt expression instead.

that’s all we are.

realization dawned upon you quickly and you scolded yourself for almost believing something so irrational and overall stupid. but as he nudged your arm with his elbow and started talking to you about a new video game that had come out that exact same day, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he did so, you allowed yourself to hold on to that fantasy a little longer. after all, dreaming didn’t hurt anyone right?

and so, you spent the whole ride to school envisioning an universe in which kaminari returned your feelings for him. an universe in which he loved you just as much as you loved him and you didn’t have to worry about anything, because at least you had him. an universe in which you didn’t have to overthink every little thing he did, wondering whether or not he actually meant it or if he was being his usual flirty self. an universe in which you were able to call him yours.

when school ended and you found yourself at the bus station once again, with kaminari next to you, you began to take off the jacket, having it worn all day and deciding it was time to give it back. but kaminari’s hands stopped you, hovering on top of yours, before you could finish unzipping it. you looked at him questioningly, trying your best to ignore the erratic beating of your heart and the electricity you felt right where your hands were touching.

“you can keep it.” his words confused you even more.

“what? no. it’s your jacket, you’ll get cold and besides it’s-”

“oh please don’t act like you don’t love wearing my clothes.” his tone was teasing, yet knowingly eyes scanned your face and you looked away, a hint of blush across your cheeks.

“whatever, but don’t expect to get it back.” kaminari laughed, his hands leaving your own and you had to hold back from taking it and interlacing your fingers together.

as you parted ways, walking in opposite directions to head back to your houses after a long day at school, you hugged yourself for the second time that day. this time, actually being able to feel warm. both inside and out.

—

« but I watch your eyes

as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

brighter than the blue sky

she’s got you mesmerized

while I die »

YOU and kaminari told each other everything, well at least most things. so it didn’t surprise you when he started rambling about yet another girl. don’t get me wrong, you loved him to death, but you had to admit that the boy could be quite unlucky with the ladies, much to own your luck that is. but this time was different and you both knew it. you noticed it in the way he smiled whenever he talked about her, how he was able to light up from just hearing her name, and most importantly, the way he looked at her. and you immediately knew. because it was the same way you looked at him.

she was your classmate and friend, and you could totally understand why kaminari was so smitten with her. she was funny, smart, caring, beautiful; in other words everything you weren’t. and while it’s true you knew it was bad to be envious of people, specially your friends, you simply couldn’t not wish to be her. i mean come on, not only did she have an awesome quirk you had no chance of competing against, she also had the boy you loved wrapped around her finger and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“and then when he was about to- denki, are you even listening?” he wasn’t, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“hm? oh sorry! what were you saying?” his pretty amber eyes looked at you for only a split second, before going back to admire the dark purpled haired girl.

jirou stood a few feet away from you guys, talking and laughing with sero and mina. you could feel your heart slowly breaking as you saw kaminari’s lips curl into a small smile when she briefly looked at him, waving at him in the process. and of course you didn’t miss the way she blushed.

“ah it’s nothing important anyways.”

“hey y/n, do you think i should ask jirou out?”

oh.

you were pretty certain you stopped breathing once your brain registered his words. how could he be so oblivious?! you had been friends since fucking middle school and you were supposed to believe that he never once noticed how hopelessly in love you were with him? did you not show it enough? were you that bad at displaying your love for people? or was he just ridiculously dumb? you desperately hoped it was the latter, because deep down a part of you still believed that there was a possibility for you two. that an us could be possible if you just showed him how serious you were about him.

but the rational part of you was screaming at you to stop being so damn stupid, to finally open your eyes and realize kaminari didn’t and would never reciprocate your feelings. that you were hoping for the impossible to happen, that you were preparing yourself for absolute heartbreak if you thought for a second he would choose you over her. and while you wanted nothing more than to yell at him for being so dense, for not seeing that you were right there, you simply couldn’t. so you went with the safer option.

“y-yeah, you should. i’m sure she’ll say yes.” you were able to muster a smile, and despite the lump in your throat, you feel happiness surge through you as he turns around and gives you a big smile.

“you think so? but what if she says no?”

“any girl would be lucky to have you, denki. you’re sweet, cool, and funny. what more could a girl ask for?” you were only half joking, but of course he didn’t notice.

“well if you say it like that it just sounds like you have a crush on me.” he winked at you and you swore you were about to pass out. not only because of the wink, but because of his sudden implication. (which was a fact)

“you wish,” you snort to make it seem more real, and it seems to work because kaminari’s now pouting at you. “now go get em’ tiger.”

“please don’t say that again.”

“wow okay, cold.”

he stood up, taking a deep breath before walking over to jirou, starting off with a joke as he leaned down on her desk and, as much as she tried to stifle it, a loud laugh escaped her. apparently kaminari’s charm didn’t only work on you. but oh how you wished it did because that way you would be the one getting asked out right now, not her. quite frankly, you would give anything to have him look at you the way he was looking at her right now, as if she was some mystical creature. or better yet, as if he was under some kind of love spell that made him unable to look at anyone else like that.

from the other corner of the classroom, a certain red haired guy looked at you with pity in his eyes, but also concern. he made his way to you, sitting down in kaminari’s previous spot. you sent him a, clearly fake, smile when you noticed it was none other than kirishima, one of your best friends. but he saw right through that.

“hey,” his voice was soft and low, he didn’t exactly want the whole class to know about what was going on. “are you okay?”

you gulped, but still nodded. “of course, why wouldn’t i be?” another fake smile.

“don’t give me that bullshit y/n. you don’t need to lie to me.” that was all you needed to hear before dropping the act, your smile quickly being replaced with a frown and kirishima’s heart hurt for you.

“this sucks,” you say under your breath, looking away towards their direction only to see kaminari playing with one of jirou’s earphone jacks, which obviously made the pain in your chest worsen. “i just want him to look at me the same way he looks at her,” tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes. “is that too much to ask for?” you asked no one in particular as you looked up to kirishima.

“it’s not, but you’ll be okay,” without thinking it twice, he hugged you and you didn’t fight back, instead welcoming the warmth his chest provided you and resting your head against one of his shoulders. “you know he doesn’t know y/n, if he did i’m sure things would be different.”

“i know, but it’s fine. i just want him to be happy.”

even if it’s not with me.

but you don’t say that, preferring to just stay on kirishima’s arms a little longer while trying to ignore the two love birds giggling behind you, your heart breaking more and more each time you heard kaminari’s sweet words. because they weren’t for you, they were for her.

—

« why would you ever kiss me?

i’m not even half as pretty

you gave her your sweater

it’s just polyester

but you like her better

wish i were heather »

HIDING your emotions was something you mastered pretty well by now. you spent years keeping your feelings for kaminari to yourself and you didn’t mind at all; you had come to terms with the fact that this crush was probably one sided a long time ago. so, why did you suddenly felt the need to tell him? it never bothered you, but now, after having to see him every day making heart eyes at her and hear him talk about how cool she was, you thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you just wanted him to have the option; he deserved to know right? or maybe you were just hoping that he would choose you over her. just like you would choose him over anyone in a heartbeat.

but to be honest, you didn’t know what you would do with yourself if he didn’t. if he chose her over you while knowing you loved him too. what if she meant more to him than you did? what if he thought you were outright weird and things became awkward? what if your friendship wasn’t as special as you thought it was? you shook your head, hands coming up to your temples to try and get rid of some of the tension. no, that couldn’t be. you knew he loved you...at least as a friend.

it had been 2 months already since kaminari and jirou started talking. they weren’t oficial yet, but you accidentally overheard her conversation with yaoyorozu a few days ago and heard her complaining about how she wished he finally made a move on her. that somehow relieved you because at least they hadn’t gotten physical yet, but at the same time you wondered if you were being a bad friend by thinking that. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help it. i mean you liked the boy for fucks sake, it was understandable that you weren’t exactly hoping for them to pounce on each other.

“where’s denki?” kirishima asked as he caught up with you in the hallway, both of you making your way to the new dorms.

“don’t know, he left before i could even ask him.” you tried your best to sound neutral, but you knew you didn’t do a good job when you heard kirishima sighing. however, much to your liking, he stayed quiet and didn’t say anything about it, changing the topic to today’s events.

you were grateful to have him; he was the only one who knew about your crush on kaminari and the only one who was able to take your mind off things even for just a little while. soon enough you found yourself laughing by his side as he talked about bakugou’s weird antics and how hot-headed he could be at times, which you had experienced firsthand.

“he was all like ‘hey shitty hair, if you’re not gonna do a good work then fuck off!’ like man calm down, i didn’t even do anything.” you giggled at his accurate impersonation of the angry blonde. shaking your head as you looked up, noticing you were already at the dorms building.

you squinted your eyes when you saw two people standing right in front of the main entrance, but couldn’t make out their faces thanks to the long distance. yet the closer you got, the better you could see them. and once your eyes focused on the couple completely, everything stopped.

it was them.

they were kissing.

right in front of you.

his arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him as if he never wanted to let her go, and her own were wrapped around his neck, caressing his soft blonde hair which you loved to ruffle whenever he laid down on your lap.

they looked so beautiful, straight out of a cheesy romcom movie. the sun was beginning to set and its rays reflected on their skin perfectly, making them look golden. and in that precise moment you realized just how beautiful jirou was and how much she complimented kaminari in every sense of the word. could it be that they were made for each other?

before you knew it, a single tear rolled down your cheek, and you weakly smiled at kirishima when he opened his mouth to try and comfort you, yet no words seemed to come out. because he knew that no matter what he said, the damage was already done. the couple hadn’t even noticed you two, too immersed in their own little world as they giggled and made their way inside, all while holding each other’s hands.

“they make a good couple, don’t they?” you fixed your eyes on your shoes, holding back the sobs that desperately wanted to escape you.

“y/n…” kirishima’s tone was sad, mostly because he didn’t know what to do, but also because he understood perfectly the pain you were going through. he had been experiencing it for a while now.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kiri.” you sent him another smile, but right when you started walking towards the entrance he managed to see the tears falling down your cheeks as you bit down on your lower lip.

and somehow, that kiss proved to you that you could never beat her, that she had won over kaminari’s heart. something you could never do.

—

« watch as she stands with her holding your hand

put your arm 'round her shoulder, 

now I'm getting colder

but how could I hate her? 

she’s such an angel

but then again, kinda wish she were dead »

PEOPLE often say one’s happiness shouldn’t relay on others and you had always been a firm believer of that, knowing that people were unpredictable and that they could change at any moment given. so it was only reasonable that you made yourself happy, without needing to depend on other people, yet that didn’t really add up with your current situation. it made you look like a hypocrite.

ever since jirou and kaminari started dating, you had been spending less and less time together. the only time you could have him all to yourself was when you occasionally paired up during training and even then you didn’t really talk much. you were happy everything had worked out for them, and you loved to see kaminari happy, but it hurt you. it hurt so much, to the point that sometimes it was hard to get out of bed. 

you missed your best friend. and you knew it was selfish, but did it even matter at this point? did he he notice how you talked less and less? how you barely smiled anymore? of course he didn’t. he was too busy looking at her anyways, too busy going on dates and learning how to play the guitar just for her. his girlfriend. 

and as much as you wanted to hate them both, you didn’t have it in you. why would you? because they were happy and in love? you weren’t that desperate. but sometimes, as you watched her throw her head back while she laughed at something kaminari said, you wished he had never met her. you wished you never came to UA in the first place, that way they wouldn’t have met and you would probably still have your best friend by your side. no. even if he hadn’t met her, you knew he would never go for a girl like you.

these past few months had been hell for you, you barely left your room unless it was for school, your eating habits couldn’t have gotten any worse, and you weren’t getting any sleep, too busy crying your eyes out as you wondered what the hell you did wrong. and you knew what you were doing wasn’t healthy, but a part of you wished that something really bad happened to you just so kaminari would pay attention to you again. but he didn’t.

today was one of those days, you didn’t feel like getting up your bed just to watch a dumb movie with your classmates, and possible have to witness jirou and kaminari being all lovey dovey right in front of you. the thought alone was enough to make you roll your eyes, scoffing at how much the pair loved PDA. 

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun.” kirishima was currently trying to convince you to go watch a movie with the rest of class 1-A in the common room, but as expected you denied his invitation. “even bakugou is going!” 

“then you’ll be more than fine without me.” 

“i’ll miss you tho.” he gave you puppy eyes and you groaned, placing your pillow over your face.

“since when are you so cheesy?”

“stop trying to change the subject,” a frustrated sigh left his lips, and you lowered your pillow to look at him. he was sitting down on the floor with his legs crossed, a frown evident on his face. “i know you don’t wanna talk about it, but you can’t keep on like this y/n.” you flinched slightly at his serious tone.

“i know,” this time it was you who sighed, weighing your options in your head. you knew kirishima was right and he was trying his best to make you feel better, so the least you could do was make him some company. “okay fine,” his head turned in your direction, looking at you hopefully. “i’ll go, but it better be a good movie.” 

“yes! you won’t regret it, i promise. and if at some point you wanna leave, then we’ll leave, but you have to at least try.” your heart swelled at his consideration; he was too sweet to you and you didn’t deserve it at all.

“you don’t have to do that, kiri.”

“but i want to. i know it’s not easy, so i’m proud of you for doing this.” his words made a lump appear in your throat. maybe you were being overly sensitive, but hearing him say that meant a lot.

it wasn’t long before the clock striked 9PM and everyone started making their way to the common room, chatting happily as they sat down and got everything ready for the night. you watched as people started to take a seat, whether it was on the couches or on the floor, and you started to get a bit anxious when you noticed kaminari walking down the stairs, but jirou was nowhere to be seen. thankfully.

as much as you tried to not let him have an effect on you, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. it was truly inevitable, but what you hated the most was knowing you had no effect on him whatsoever. 

before you could look away and hide from his view, kaminari spotted you. he sent you a big smile, waving his hand before walking over to where you stood. ok, calm down act normal. it’s just denki. you tried to calm yourself down, but your breath hitched in your throat when you suddenly felt his arms engulf you in a tight hug, your arms slowly coming up to his neck to return the gesture. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t miss this feeling. the feeling of being home again. 

but it ended way too fast for your liking.

“hey you! we haven’t hung out in a while, i miss you.” 

because you’re too busy with your girlfriend, asshole. 

“yeah sorry about that, i’ve been kinda busy i guess.” your tone was off and he noticed, but he brushed it off. maybe she’s tired.

“then what are you doing tomorrow? we can go to the mall or wherever you want to.” your head quickly shot up, looking at him with nothing but hope in your eyes.

“really?”

“of course! we need to have some bestie time.” the wink he sent you was playful, but your lips still curved into a smile from hearing him saying he wanted to spend time with you.

“then maybe we can go to this new-”

“hey babe i saved you a seat,” out of the blue, jirou appeared right next to kaminari, slipping her hand into his. and your heart clenched when you noticed he held it back tightly. “oh, hi y/n!” she sent you a warm, genuine smile, and you felt so bad for wanting her to feel your pain. 

“hi jirou.” 

“i was just telling y/n about how we should hang out.” you frowned at him, is he inviting her? 

“oh? where did you plan on going?” 

“i told her she should pick.”

“well that sounds even more fun, any ideas?”

“actually i just remembered i got some homework to finish.” it was a lie, but you didn’t have it in you to third wheel on what was supposed to be a date with your best friend.

“what?” kaminari asked you, not understanding you sudden change in attitude.

“yeah, maybe next time tho.” he wanted to ask what was wrong, but as he opened his mouth to do so, you saw kirishima walking towards the common room with bakugou and took that as your cue to leave the awkward encounter. 

“well that was weird.” he mumbled to himself and jirou looked at him questioningly, wondering what he meant.

“hm? what was that babe?” the blonde shook his head, convincing himself he was probably overthinking things. he placed his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder before walking over to one of the couches. to be more precise, the couch in front of yours. 

you sat beside kirishima, your leg bouncing up and down anxiously as you waited for iida to finally play the goddamn movie so you had something else to pay attention to instead of them. kirishima quickly noticed the unusual movement and was about to ask you what was wrong, but once he saw where your gaze was locked on, it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. 

he knew better than to ask you in front of everyone if you were okay, so he just gave your knee a light squeeze, which you highly appreciated and let him know so by smiling at him. after a few minutes that felt like eternity, iida played the movie and told everyone to not make any unnecessary noises and be considerate of your classmates which made you scoff slightly. 

twenty minutes into the movie and everything was going great so far. you had actually managed to get immersed in the plot and found yourself leaning your head against kirishima’s shoulder to get a better view, but also because the effect of not having a stable sleeping schedule was dawning on you. however, just when you thought you were about to fall asleep on your friend’s comfortable shoulder, you heard some giggles. you opened your eyes slowly, frowning when you saw kaminari leaving small kisses on jirou’s neck. your heart felt like it was being stabbed for the hundredth time and you tried to ignore them and just focus on the tv screen. you really tried to remain calm, to keep up your act just as you had done all this months, but you lost it when you heard those three damn words leave his lips.

“i love you.”

it was low, barely even audible, but you heard it. you heard it loud and clear. and just like that, with your heart losing every last bit of hope it had, you stood up from your seat abruptly, making everyone look at you, before making your way upstairs without saying another word. all of your classmates looked between them, not only confused, but also concerned. 

“oi shitty hair,” bakugou spoke from his place next to kirishima, who looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “go check up on her.” he muttered and kirishima only nodded before walking upstairs to follow you.

bakugou’s words worried kaminari even more, was there something going on with you that he didn’t know about? was that why you were acting so weird earlier? no way, you told him everything. you were best friends after all...right? and with that question on his mind, he couldn’t focus on the movie or his girlfriend anymore.

you walked towards your room silently, even though you wanted nothing more than to scream and fight someone. you wanted, no, needed to let all of your pent up frustration out. you had been patient enough, putting his happiness before your own for years now, and while you knew it wasn’t his fault at all, you wanted to be mad at him about something. you wanted him to understand that this wasn’t fair, that you could be good for him if he gave you the chance, that you wouldn’t be a waste of his time, but the only thing that was coming out of you were tears.

angry tears stained your face as they furiously ran down your cheeks, reminding you of all the sleepless nights you spent alone, crying your heart out to no one but yourself. you stood in front of your room, hand reaching out to the door’s knob to open it and spend yet another night wondering why the hell you weren’t enough. but a hand stopped you.

kirishima’s grip on your forearm was gentle, but firm enough to let you know he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, his touch made you want to cry even more. you tried to push him away, telling him that you were perfectly fine, yet your bloodshot eyes told a whole different story. and as much as you kicked and screamed, kirishima knew the last thing you needed was to be alone.

“let go!” seeing that holding your arms had no effect on you whatsoever, he tried a different approach. his strong arms hugged you to his chest, and, as much as you wanted to deny it, you found comfort in them. “i said let me go, kirishima.” 

“no. y/n listen to me. you need to stop bottling all your feelings up, nothing good will come out of that,” you finally started to relax, breathing heavily as you listened to his words. “it doesn’t matter if you talk, cry, or scream, but you need to voice out how you feel. if it’s not to him, then tell me. i’m always ready to listen.” his voice was so gentle, so soft, yet it held so much emotion and honesty. 

more tears fell down your cheeks as you gripped kirishima’s shirt tightly against your fingers, your face hiding comfortably on his chest. 

“i can’t take this anymore kiri,” you started talking and kirishima was quick to hug you a little tighter, one of his hands rubbing small circles on the small of your back. “i miss him so much, i miss my best friend. and i want him to be happy, i really do, but why must his happiness cause me so much pain?” a sob racked through your whole body after hearing yourself say those words, the ones you never thought you’d voice out to someone. “at first it was fine and i didn’t mind that much, but now? we barely even talk anymore, and when we do it’s always small talk. and we used to talk for hours about everything and anything, we would never get bored when we were together. now it’s like i don’t even exist to him except for when he seems to have some time to spare. did our friendship meant shit to him? because fuck i wasted years of my life loving someone who can’t even notice how much i’ve been struggling.” 

by this point your tears had stained kirishima’s shirt almost completely, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck about that. all that mattered was you and only you. the only thought on his mind was how he was gonna make you feel better. so he held you in his arms a little longer, hoping that somehow his actions could express everything he felt. his free hand came up to caress your hair while he shushed you softly, rocking you two back and forth. 

that’s how the night ended. 

you, with your heart broken in a million pieces, longing for the person who made you feel this way. because you knew you would always love him, maybe even more than you loved yourself. you knew that no matter how much you tried to hate him, you could never even get close to feeling anything but pure adoration for the boy. and if having him in your life implied having to handle all this heartache and hurt, then maybe you could endure it. because for him it was all worth it. 

and a certain redhead with all his feelings caught in his throat. he wanted nothing more than to scream at you for not noticing he understood completely how you felt, way more than you imagined, yet he knew that you would always only have eyes for him. but perhaps that was okay. if the only way to be close to you was comforting you because you loved a guy who was too dense to see what he had in front of him, then so be it. in the end it was all worth it for you.

[i-need-air]

bruh i almost really only if you’re okay with it wanna part 2 of kiri’s but like it has a married life and kids because dog hybrid kiri with kids or normal puppies too just sound adorable

That sounds so cute so I decided to mix both things. Here you have Kiri with doggos and kiddies 🥺💕

In here reader can get pregnant and ig goes by "mommy", I wanted to make it like this bc imagine smol lil kirishimas running around with smol black tails and wiggly ears and;;;; I'm soft—

Word count: 1.4k

[ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ] [ Masterlist ]

× since we've established he starts as a dog trainer, expect to have doggos around the house all the time

× but it takes some good months for him to ever consider adopting one with you

× he's really aware of both of your financial situation so he'd need his business to boom before considering it, and maybe renting a bigger apartment

× what was good was that his internet fame got him sponsors and extra-cash

× whenever the time comes to consider it and talk it with you, he'd sit you down and mutter a cute "I was thinking—" while he's cuddling into your chest

× guess who's ready to do at the next shelter to adopt? Kiri is so eager to help another life 🥺

× adopts a big pitbull that's the sweetest thing in reality and in a few days he takes the doggo with him at work

× seriously loves seeing you cuddling big soft furry baby but gets jealous playfully; dog's in your lap? lifts you both up and now you're all in his lap, don't question it

× calls it Dynamo or something, saying he wants to honor his friend that he still had to find 🥺🥺🥺

× they're inseparable and look so intimidating together ajdjkejs until he smiles brightly and dog starts jumping around happy to exist; they both wiggle their tails and i swear just the cutest ever omg

× now before he considers children [ daydreams about it around 2 hours a day but sure ] he wants to be able to give you more

× saves up for a promise ring a few months in the relationship

× "My heart will forever be yours and someday I want to officially be able to call you mine" manly speech but he's tearing up while he puts it on your ring finger

× marriage between species was still a dicey issue, although it was legal some people still protested about it daily

× still believed in your relationship and was willing to take whatever came your way

× wants to do it the right way because he's a firm believer you deserve the best and wants to give it to you

× you did have to have a very small wedding but it did not matter to him and hopefully to you either

× KIDDIES!!!! skfjsljdhs I'm melting bc

× you guys planned it, right? it had to be a good time for both of you and had to have space for a smol little pack

× yeah, he calls it a pack; it seems it comes from his old days where his closest friends called themselves that and he now wants his own

× when you're settled and surprise him with the news???? falls on his knees, puts his forehead on your belly and sighs, taking his shaky hands to place them there too

× it's happening, it really is

× both him and Dynamo get very protective of you

× they've always been but it's as if the dog actually feels his owner on the edge protecting his mate

× from the day you've told him you're expecting he's gonna carry you around

× i mean, he likes to do it, leave him have it

× but he's fucking embarrassing as hell; once your belly starts getting bigger and let's say you find each other on the street, he's gonna pick you up bridal style and walk you home

× all the neighborhood simps for you both

× [ unrelated but everyone has a crush on him and are jealous of u, i don't make the rules ]

× doesn't matter if you scold him all flustered bc he's just going to laugh wholeheartedly and say some cheesy stuff like "It's just that I'm too happy right now" and he makes you shut up and boil of embarrassment

× oh my god; he puts his head on your belly and listens to two heartbeats [ has very good hearing ] and gets soft as fuck

× when the bundle of happiness arrives he's crying

× like he cries cries

× holds the baby and cries

× baby cries and he cries

× you're washing the baby and he observes the scene, crying

× absolutely adores both of you

× hear me out; smoll bby has an even smoler tail

× that they wiggle whenever they see their momma or dadda...

× yeah, from the first few weeks baby does that and it kills you

× [ imagine: ] it's 3 A.M., baby woke you two up crying and he kisses your forehead, urging you to go back to sleep; he goes to the baby's room and picks em up softly, holding them close to his chest and singing a sweet lullaby in his deep raspy voice, just above a whisper; Dynamo is a self-proclaimed bodyguard so the dog is always by the baby's door... you get up to see what's taking him so long and he's just sitting on the armchair in the room, kissing your baby's forehead tenderly...

× i really love the idea of Kiri having a daughter just because he'd be such a great dad; pick cute clothes, do her hair, play with her, have tea-parties; 🥺 strong big man with cute daughter? 💘💖💘💖💘

× gets so soft for his pup; calls your kid a pup; pup responds with wiggly tail

× she starts learning the puppy eyes from his dad and now, for sure, it's the death of you

× you're gone now, one of those looks and you can't argue anything and give in

× i feel he'd post about his family online and that's when his following would just explode, basically turning him into an advocate for hybrid lives and showing the world they're not different from normal humans; still keeps his privacy cuz people are mean mfs sometimes

× can we just accept the fact that they're both a mess? loud, clumsy and sunshine-y?

× her first words are Mamma and he instantly jumps in her face to ask "Hey, what aBOUT DADDY?!?!?!?"

× will get out of his way to make his smol sunshine giggle and her adorable cute laughs are his life juice

× gets energy to eat the world afterwards

× has this exagerated way of talking just to entertain the baby; even mundane things like: gasps —and I— dramatic pause to look around —made a MILKSHAKE! throws his arms in the air, making bb giggle and clap

× ridiculous dad;

× places your daughter on Dynamo's back and makes it carry her around like a horse

× gives her a paper made sword and roars a battle cry

× adorable squeal-like roar in response from his daughter

× also will have her be on his shoulders if you guys walk anywhere, keeping her in place by holding her chubby legs secured

× dumb songs for everything while they walk; "We're going to the mall, WE'RE GONNA BUY IT ALL, WE WANT SOME CHICKEN NUGGETS AND MAYBE GET SOME MUFFINS"

× "No."

× insert puppy eyes

× "... fine..."

× "WE'RE GOING TO THE MALL—"

× will want more children; like i said, he wants his own pack

× is more than happy to adopt hybrids too; he knows specially the youngest ones are treated badly so if you can't have children, please consider it

× because he will love them with all his heart and he has so much love and care to give

× just think about how he'd be surrounded with two, three children, all trying to climb on him, one hanging on his beefy arm, another clawing his leg, one on his shoulders; such a sight~

× every time he sees his kids doing anything he watches them carefully then turns to you with love in his eyes

× "You make me the happiest man alive"

× you gave him a new life, such happiness he only dreamed about in his darkest days and is thankful every single day;

× sometimes forgets how incredibly amazing he is, yet your words help him

× if your children call him the best dad ever?

× beams

× brighter than the sun itself

× will give it all for your family

× now and forever

[amispnrewatch]

SPN 1x06 “Skin”

Okay, I’m gonna try to type while I watch this time instead of forgetting this blog exists until the episode is almost over.

You can tell the footage for the previously on segment was saved on a VHS copy instead of the original film that the show was shot with because even in the HD iTunes version I have it looks low quality as fuck. And jumpy in the way that brings me back to my teens watching the WB all the damn time.

I love this song. WTF is this song. Shazam says “Good Deal” by Mommy and Daddy. I… have no comment, except that it sounds like everything I was listening to in college at the time this shit was airing.

Aaaaand not!Dean turns around to face the SWAT team after obviously torturing some woman. THAT is a cold open.

I wanna know what that car is in the background. It’s pretty. Maybe a convertible Impala? They have similar grills. This is not at all important.

Also, I love that with these higher definition versions of the episodes you can see that Sam’s email is lawboy and whatever dot com and that people in the fandom have started calling him Law Boy. It’s hilarious.

DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?

SAM: I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.

DEAN: Oh, so you lie to ‘em.

SAM: No. I just don’t tell ‘em….everything.

DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.

SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious?

DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.

Aaaaand now I have Dean and Cassie feelings again and we haven’t even gotten to her episode yet.

SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.

DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

Aaaaaand now I have Dean and Lee feelings and we’re nowhere near Lee’s episode in season 15.

YOU JUST BLEW THROUGH A STOP SIGN DEAN WTF.

Little Becky. Oi with the reusing of names.

Of course Sam made friends with a bunch of rich kids while he was at college in a desperate attempt to try to be normal.

SAM: You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.

DEAN: We could.

REBECCA: Why? I mean, what could you do?

SAM: Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop. (DEAN laughs.)

DEAN: Detective, actually.

I love that Dean was like “how dare you call me that.”

Okay, after a bit of research, I totally want to take a day trip to Bisbee, Arizona, but it’s already in the 90s here in the desert and it’s not even May so that trip is going to have to wait until… winter or something. There is no way in hell I’m going deeper into the desert when the weather gets hotter.

It’s a historic mining town tourist trap looking place now which is exactly the kind of shit I love.

SAM: Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.

I mean, not technically, technically you would 1) NOT FUCK WITH A MURDER INVESTIGATION YOU’RE NOT LEGALLY INVOLVED IN BECAUSE ANYTHING YOU FIND WOULD BE INADMISSABLE IN COURT 2) find evidence to provide a reasonable doubt for the jury that he did commit the crime. You know, like a lawyer would need to do, Law Boy.

DEAN: I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.

When I made my husband watch this show with me (he’s seen it all at least once now over the years) this is the recurring thing that drove him crazy.

You guys can’t even go in through the back door? Or shut the front door behind you? Really?

REBECCA: (tearfully) Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in.

Yeah, that doesn’t even really mean that she knew her attacker. Just that it was someone she let her guard down around or got in some other way. See: The Son of Sam and Nightstalker, etc.

Love the pinup magnet on the fridge. I’d throw shade at that, but I have a pinup magnet on my fridge too so… pot kettle and all that.

Okay, both people in the next couple are gorgeous.

And oh wow those special effects changing eyes… wow.

This poor couple. I feel so bad for them in this episode.

How… how are the police gonna explain the way he was able to beat himself over the head with a bat??? I…

I love that 5:30 in the morning on TV is clearly like… 10 AM.

Okay, this is a really unrelated point, but the graffiti on the dumpster here reminds me of the Teen Wolf fandoms use of the name Void!Stiles when Stiles Stilinski was possessed by a Nogitsune… I just spent way too long digging through YouTube and my Tumblr tags from back when those episodes were airing looking for a few specific videos and couldn’t find them. The TL;DR reason I bring it up here is goofball, bi-coded main character guy getting possessed by an entity set on destroying the people he loves. SOUNDS LIKE THIS EPISODE AND A WHOLE LOT OF SPN RIGHT. I love that all these monster hunting shows call out to each other.

This scene haunts me years later and I don’t even WATCH Teen Wolf. I just watched the fandom on Tumblr collectively lose it’s shit then tripped down a Hale Pack fanfiction rabbit hole.

ANYWAY

Back to Supernatural, a show that also treated its fan base, cast, and characters like garbage! Huzzah!

DEAN: Well, there’s another way to go—down. (They look down and notice a manhole.)

I’m gonna be mature and ignore the double entendre there…

But I love that Dean thinks of the world in 3D. Which sounds like a dumb statement to make, but this is honestly a good example of that in action.

SAM: I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too.

Really Sam, sewers run by houses? SO WEIRD. I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED.

DEAN: You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.

SAM: That is sick. (DEAN puts the bloody pile back on the ground.)

Guys, there is a WHOLE ASS EAR in that pile of yuck you’re looking at. I think it’s pretty safe to assume the shapeshifter indeed sheds its skin like a snake. A much… gooier snake.

Sam’s friend is rightfully pissed at him for fucking with the crime scene.

This is before the pearl gripped guns?! Wow. I never noticed that before.

Also, this whole episode gives me feelings.

++++

Cool. Tumblr mobile ate a whole section of my notes on this when it crashed for NO APPARENT REASON. Love that.

It always boggles my mind that actors can trust the people they’re working with enough to let people “tie” ropes around their neck or put them in actually dangerous positions in a scene.

SHAPESHIFTER: He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?

SAM: Where is my brother? (The shapeshifter leans in close to SAM.)

SHAPESHIFTER: I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. (He backs away.)

SAM: What are you talkin’ about?

SHAPESHIFTER: You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin’, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks. (He laughs.) I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens. (He smiles and covers SAM with a sheet.)

This exchange is just… so much. So many feelings. And I will forever (unless we magically get a fix-it fic mini season someday…) be SO MAD that none of this got resolved in that pointless, trash heap of a finale.

REBECCA: Okay, so, this thing—it can make itself look like anybody?

SHAPESHIFTER: That’s right. (She chuckles.)

REBECCA: Well, what is it, like a genetic freak? (The shapeshifter laughs.)

SHAPESHIFTER: Maybe. Evolution is about mutation, right? So, maybe this thing was born human but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (REBECCA looks around, uncomfortable. The shapeshifter’s eyes glint silver, and he smiles.)

It always amazes me how much of this show is a pile of accidental queer allegories parading around in an ill-fitting toxic masculinity suit.

Vulcan mind meld! I love nerd!Dean. Also, I’m rewatching Star Trek: TOS with my husband, because that is what my life amounts to these days, rewatching comfort TV and flailing over the bits I love.

This post does a better job than I can do of pairing up screen caps with the dialogue of this next scene. SIX EPISODES IN. They’re dumping all of this character depth SIX EPISODES IN. FUCK THIS SHOW FOR NOT EMBRACING ITSELF.

Okay, I love that he screams back in her face after he threw the phone. It’s not something to laugh at because the situation is horrifying, but I can’t help laughing at it every time.

AND THE WAY THEY CUT THESE SCENES. Going from him winding his hand back to backslap her directly to him dropping the chains on the table to show how hard he must have hit her without actually making the actors hit each other. Good job editing department!

I… don’t understand the shifter’s motivation for killing people. If he can take over people’s identities without killing them, why kill them? Is it just because he’s a homicidal, rapist piece of shit? Cause that’s all it seems like.

How did the SWAT team even know she was being attacked? Why can the snipers aim no better than Storm Troopers?

Ugh, these kind of transformation body horror scenes are exactly why werewolf stories have never really appealed to me much. Like, I could do without watching your ribs move and teeth fall out, dude.

BUT.

THIS FUCKING SCENE.

I looked up the song that’s playing over shapeshifter!Dean being caught by the SWAT team and then going through the grotesque transformation. (And as far as I know, the iTunes version has the original music from the episodes.)

It’s a song called “Mary” by The Death Riders

Who's your mother, who's your mother here boy // Who's your mother, whos your mommy dear // Who's your father, who's your father here boy // Who's your father, who's your daddy dear

Silently screaming // Where everyone knows // Daddy's always watchin' // Where everywhere - everywhere I go

I don't wanna be a freak show pretty boy anymore // I don't wanna be a full time slave // I don't wanna be your midnight cowboy anymore // I just want to be Mary

This is… a fascinating choice. Here are the rest of the lyrics. The song as a whole has a weird incesty kinda vibe to it? Kinda like when SPN tries to straight-wash itself and misses the mark wildly. (Like Dean’s male siren episode.)

The midnight cowboy line reminded me of 12x11 and the bull riding scene with “Broomstick Cowboy” by Bobby Goldsboro playing over it

Dream on, little Broomstick Cowboy, // Dream while you can; // Of big green frogs, // And puppy dogs, // And castles in the sand.

For, all too soon you'll awaken; // Your toys will all be gone. // Your broomstick horse will ride away, // To find another home. // And you'll have grown into a man, // With cowboys of your own. // And then you'll have to go to war, // To try and save your home.

And then you'll have to learn to hate; // You'll have to learn to kill. // It's always been that way, my son; // I guess it always will.

Because, you know, why not add tons of feelings into the lyrics, right?

Props to the people who can embrace their rewatches and reclamations of the show with ease. Because every episode seems to remind me of how hollow and tragic Dean’s ending was and I just… struggle all over again.

Anyway, back to the episode so I can move on with my day.

REPORTER: An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home. (A sketch of DEAN appears on the screen.)

DEAN: Man! That’s not even a good picture. (SAM looks around cautiously.)

SAM: It’s good enough. (He walks away.)

DEAN: Man! (He follows SAM.)

(CUT TO: Alley. DEAN and SAM are walking. DEAN steps into a puddle.)

DEAN: Ugh, come on.

I love that we get two tiny little back-to-back vanity moments for Dean here. One commenting on the sketch artist rendition of him being broadcasted on the news and the other tripping in the puddle. There is literally someone running around the city trying to kill people while wearing Dean’s face, but Dean is still concerned with how he looks appears to others. He’s still concerned with keeping up his own performance. The shifter left him with just a t-shirt, so he doesn’t even have his usual comfort layers on and at any moment someone could spot him and call the police or try to kill him for assaulting Sam’s friend. His life is wildly out of control in that moment and the only thing he can try to focus on is his appearance (something semi-controllable) and finding the shifter before any of that other shit can happen.

One day I want to put together a like top 10 episodes focusing on / explaining each TFW character from the series. Like the kind of list you could show someone who’s never seen the show, but has OPINIONS about the characters (or who hasn’t seen the whole show and seen the growth they went through… you know, like the people responsible for the travesty of 15x20). This episode would be on that list. I’m not sure how I could manage to make a list of only 10 episodes to understand Dean Winchester by, but eh.

SAM: What are you gonna do to me?

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, I’m not gonna do anything. Dean will, though.

SAM: They’ll never catch him.

SHAPESHIFTER: Oh, doesn’t matter. Murder in the first of his own brother? He’ll be hunted the rest of his life. (He picks up a sharp knife and examines it.)

Speaking of season 15 in general, this right here. This was Chuck’s villain story arc thesis statement. AND THEY DROPPED THE GODDAMN BALL WITH IT. I think that’s the thing that honestly pisses me off the most these days (about 5 1/2 months from when the finale aired) is that they tried making the whole thing a tragedy but did such an awful job with it that it just ended up like a deflating condom balloon at a dive bar concert. Disappointing and gross. The finale for season 14 set them up SO FUCKING WELL and it just… didn’t get there.

Becky’s parents are gonna be pissed at how torn up their house is after all this shit…

And you’re not shooting him when you first see him strangling Sam because…?????

I like that he took the necklace back. Also, is this kinda Dean death number .5 of the show? Like it wasn’t him but it was also kinda him. Eh.

At least they left the windshield on Baby this time. Reflections are better than tearing her apart.

[theyanderespecialist]

Strike With Obsession 1 (One shot/Mini Series) Striker X Marie OC (Yandere) (Helluva Boss)

(no one's pov)

"Oh Satan it is hot." An imp muttered as she got out of the van towards her Employee's parents

"Oh it's okay Marie, hey you look great in my old clothes."

"..I feel like I'm going to fuck my cousin who is also my brother." Marie muttered as she fanned herself.

"No Millie's right Miss. Y-You look..good."

"She looks hot Moxxie. Hot as fuck." Millie said as Marie winked.

"Oh come on keep talking like that and I'm sure we can find a hay Bush and mooxie can use those strong hands while I use mine--"

"Marie!" Moxxie said disapproving of her advances..in front of Millie's parents. The couple however were used to this..and had a plan to share her.

"Speaking of strong hands. Meet our newest help-- Striker! Get over here!" Millies dad yelled as a man came riding over on a stallion as Marie's eyes widen as she walked over...and shoved him off the horse.

"wha-I wouldn't--"

"oh yes so sweet aren't you? Yes you are- oh! Placing your nose on mine, so sweet!" Marie yelled.

She wrapped her arms around the horse as she squealed. (So horses place their noses on another horse or owner and share their breathe as a form of affection.) (Also all she cares about is the horse

"oh yeah, boss."

"HM?"

"That's striker. That's his horse you are molesting."

"I'm not molesting-that is- you could have used any word for the horse and you used- I know I said I love horses..but not like that."

"Hah! We're here because the prince is her boyfriend~" Millie said with an over enthusiastic tone..almost too enthusiastic.

"Yeah, Millie I love you and would pin you down, but I'm not above a cat fight with another woman. It's a casual on and off, quid pro quo relationship--wait..is he still wearing my harness?....eh thing never got any use anyway before him." She muttered

Striker was still staring and then he knew he had to put on his southern charm~

"well you must be the lady that's running this murder gig." "Yup." She said bit really paying attention to his as she fussed over Millie's hair, letting her hands linger on Millie before turning to Moxxie.

"You know I was surprised." He continued as Marie fixed Moxxie's bow tie, dragging a nail down his chest.

Crap. "Not many imps start a business..it's impressive." He threw out those words as she stopped and turned to him. Now he had her attention.

"Really? Well..heh..I mean I guess it is.." she said

"Darn right it is." I say. "No loans or other demons being your boss! It must be amazing!"

She perked up at that. "You know you lot should enter the pain games." "Games? I heard games." Marie said once more ignoring striker.

"Every harvest festival there's a competition to see who's the roughest, toughest bastard in wrath."

"Oh--"

"yeah, I wish I could compete."

"Millie ya know you get to carried away." Marie was not really paying attention. "Now you can cheer your boss on."

"Oh no. I'm amazing with a gun, I'm good with arrows, I can bend my body ways you can't imagine but..I'm not good with pain." Marie said.

"You two can root for me?"

"Aw Moxxie."

"Look at you Mox." The two girls let out a sigh.

"Yeah I don't think Thespian types like you will last long."

"I was born here too I so can!"

"Well then." Striker said glaring down at the imp. "Why don't you help me Wrestle that hog for dinner?"

"No problem."

"Oh Moxxie you're so brave." Marie said as Millie looked at him. As happy as she was seeing her husband trying to get in with her parents..she was concerned.

"You don't have to--"

"I do."

"We'll get em tiger! Hey you do it..I'll let you see me without this tiefront top..if you fail, I'm fucking your wife without you." She said as she pushed him in.

'theres no way, she's gonna see what a stupid wimp he is...maybe he'll die if I'm lucky.' Striker thought watching as Moxxie got a hold of the hog before being swung around, panting and sweating as Striker looked over only to see Marie Fanning herself.

"Millie you bagged a good one. Look at that jock. What a specimen..makes me get all excited."

He glared at moxie even more

I glare as I get in and kill the hog..only to see Marie holding Moxxie with Millie..she didn't even look?! I picked it up at least I can get some anger out on the carcass

(next day)

I stood in the crowd as Wally went on about the festival. "Holy--is that Wally? Yo. Mox, Mill, that's Wally. I worked with that southern bastard." She said as Stolas got on the sage as Marie waved to him before stopping herself.

She stopped. "Oh..that's awkward. I was waving to stol--ahem..stretching my arm-" she said laughing.

He blushes and starts up the show. I glare as the games start as I see Marie jump off the bleachers guess she couldn't help but join the action.

I began to climb the wall when she wrapped her tail around mine, using me as a boost to jump from me all the way to the other one as she smiled.

(oh god she's wholesome right now)

(that's actually kind of adorable just imagining her blissfully having fun..while Moxxie is dying.)

(XD yup)

She won that round the next one was up and I proove myself

I grabbed the rope as she seemed to get distracted before she grabbed her rope before she slipped as I looked down at her before tying her and pushing her down. Gently. She blushes darkly at this and squirms.

I quickly realized as my eyes widen letting go of the ropes as soon as they called it as she just got out of them easily. (She couldn't have gotten out..but..where's the fun in that) "you have this Mox!" She yelled suddenly.

The next was the rope tug as I could see her and Moxxie genuinely trying as I just tug the ripe as it snapped sending her back into me as Moxxie fell into the mud.

(I feel like he feels they have a connection)

(XD He probably does XD)

"I help her steady and smell her hair only for her to push me off and into the mud as she helps Moxxie out. That little twerp!

I see her hold him close to her chest as his face went red as I stopped realizing her shirt was open..the only thing covering her..was Moxxie.

(Timeskip)

"Well for the first year we have a tie! The winners are--"

"the winners are Striker!" That blue blood prince said. "and my darling sweet, loving Mar~"

"ugh say my name right you dick--"

"would you rather mistress?" He asked.

"Oh that's fucking worse, fine Mar." She said bit smiled waving to Millie and Moxxie

I growled I hated the bird fuck even more how dare he even think of touching her. That is when jeans down and kisses her I am going make him suffer!!!

Her face exploded in colour as the others gasp in shock as he pulled away and patted her head. And he pays her like a dog? However I noticed the smile on her face as she played with her hands. No. I ain't done yet.

I began to song however..she wasn't interested jumping off the stage as she walked over to Millie and Moxxie as she said something that made the two blush as she kissed both their cheeks and stroked them as she started to walk off with them.

When I had gotten back I see her laying on the ground with my horse as her legs kicked back and forth as I think her eyes were sparkling..and I don't mean that they were shining in a romantic way, they literally seemed to be shining as she watched him eat before getting up to help Millie as I walking inside when I notice my door opened.

"How did he get this?" I hear Mxxie say.

"Why don't you ask him?"

He turns around as I glare at him.

"Why do you have this? This can kill-"

"demon royalty?"

"Well yeah-"

"it could kill you."

"Yes!"

"Your wife"

"absolutely! That's why I-I'm relativity concerned about you having this..also the way you..did you smell my boss' hair?"

(okay good logical thing to be concerned about maybe not in a death situation but xD)

"She is mine and I will not let you take her from me, or that Blue blood fuck!" I snap and wrap my tail around him and slam him into the wall.

I began to choke until he smashed a table and ran to the door opening it as I managed to cover his mouth as he was losing consciousness before I was stabbed as I hiss as his wife jumped on my back as I smashed her into the wall and bring them to the basement as I glare.

"I'd kill y'all--"

"Moxxie! Millie! I need help! I think my bra hook is stuck! nevermind! I got it! Go back to whatever you two were doing!"

I smirked. "But you might be more useful to me alive" I say and lock them in. She will be mine no matter WHAT!

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Playin' With Fire: The Morning After

Summary: Santiago and Dani deal with the fallout of their actions the night before. Dani starts preparations to leave for South America with Santiago. We get to dive more into Dani and Santi’s relationship, and Santi learns something about Dani’s past.

Warnings: 18+, Implications of smut, suggestive language, explicit language, ANGST, mentions of a car wreck and death (no descriptions), Dani does experience some anxiety and self-consciousness.

Word Count: 5,851

A/N: This whole series is a wild ride of emotions, and as I proof-read for posting, I find myself wanting to go in a whole different direction than originally planned. After this part, we start getting into the events of the movie, which is separated into three chapters. There are cameos in this chapter from another favorite show of mine. I know it’s unlikely that these characters would ever meet, but fuck it, it’s fan-fiction.

Dani’s alarm went off at 5:00am. Groaning, she reached over to press snooze. The light of her phone made her squint. She twisted the switch on the bedside table lamp, emitting a small glow across her room. “Shit,” She cursed, her body deliciously sore from the events of the night before.

She was never good at dealing with “the morning after’. She almost hoped that Santiago had snuck out while she was sleeping, but the warmth of the space beside her told her he was still there. What did I do? She thought. Guilt washed over her as she rolled over to face the man in her bed. She studied the features of his face, memories of the night before flooded her mind. Just the thoughts made heat pool in the pit of her stomach.

“Staring is rude, sweetheart.” Santiago’s words startled her, making her gasp. “Sorry, Teq.” He chuckled, his eyes still closed. How did he even know? Right, trained soldier.

“You’re still here?” She asked him, surprise thick in her voice. His eyes snapped open to look at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You know you were more than a one night stand.” He explained, bringing a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face. “In fact, I really wouldn’t mind if last night happened again.” He suggested with a smirk.

Dani was speechless, staring at his sexy, sleepy, face. “I, uh, um, I have to shower. My shift starts at seven.” She stuttered over her words, trying not to let him see the effect he was having on her. She moved to get up, only stopping because she remembered she was naked. “Could you, um, not look when I get up?” She blushed nervously, pulling the sheet tighter around her.

“Really Teq? Yeah, I won’t look.” He promised, then added, “Even though I already know you have a little birthmark that looks like a heart on your ass.” he teased her, and she smacked him with a pillow. Santiago shut his eyes and squeezed them tight.

Once she was sure he wasn’t peaking, she rushed up and over to the chair in the corner of her room, wrapping herself in her fuzzy robe. “Okay, you can open them.”

He slowly opened his eyes, taking in the sight of her. Her dirty blonde hair was a mess of loose curls. If this was how she looked every morning, he wouldn’t mind waking up with her. He knew he should feel bad. If, when Frankie finds out that he slept with her, that he is taking her to South America, he’s gonna be pissed. It might just ruin their friendship, but in this moment, looking at Dani, he didn’t care.

Dani felt self-conscious under Santiago’s gaze. She pulled the robe tighter around her body, trying to cover herself more. He noticed immediately, and all but jumped off the bed toward her. “Dani, you are absolutely beautiful. You don’t have to hide from me.” He complimented her and he meant every word. He embraced her face with his hands, his thumbs, lovingly brushing over her cheeks. Slowly, Santiago lowered his lips to hers. Gently, he coaxed her lips apart with his own, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past them.

The kiss wasn’t hurried like the previous night. He took his time, tracing the contour of her mouth, memorizing the feeling of her lips on his. The kiss gradually grew more fervent, needy. It was almost as if they separated, they would fall to pieces. Santiago released her face, moving his hands to the tie of her robe. Dani groaned as she pulled away, his hands falling to her hips, to keep her close. “I have to shower.” She said, reminding herself more than Santiago.

“I’ll join you.” He countered, fiddling with the tie again. She shook her head.

“Santi, I have to go to work. And you do, too.” She pointed out, grabbing his hands away. Their fingers laced together as he moved to place methodical kisses to her neck.

She whimpered as he nibbled her ear and he whispered, “I’ll make it quick. Let me make you feel good, querida.” How could she say no to that?

Forty-five minutes later, they exited Dani’s room and walked into the kitchen. Benny was already up, pouring a cup of coffee. “Morning,” He greeted them with a raised brow.

“Morning, Benny!” Santi beamed with a huge smile, all but telling Benny what had transpired between them. Benny tossed a knowing look at Dani.

“Don’t say anything, Benjamin.” Dani warned him with a pointed finger, “I have fifteen minutes to get to work.” She added, as she poured the liquid energy into her travel cup. Santiago handed her the creamer with a wink.

“Oh, Danika Kate, we are so talking about this later.” Benny teased, as she flew by him, grabbing her bag and keys. Santi threw Benny a ‘bye’ over his shoulder as he quickly followed behind her.

He walked her to her white Camry, opening the door for her to slide in. She started the car, rolling down the window, and closed the door.

“Can I at least get a goodbye kiss?” He pouted. All Dani could think about was biting that bottom lip. She acquiesced to his request, nodded her head ‘yes’.

He leaned into the window, giving her a sweet peck. Dani felt her stomach flutter. She knew she was in trouble. “I’ll call you later. Maybe we can grab a late dinner and talk about Colombia, yeah?” He hoped, not really wanting her to leave.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” She smiled, taking a quick glance at her watch. “Shit, I really have to go.” Santiago gave her one more quick kiss before telling her bye, and she drove away. The two of them were too caught up in each other to see Frankie’s truck stopped in the road, where he saw everything.

Dani had gotten to the hospital right on time. She barely made it through the ER doors before she was being called, “Dr. Reid.” She spotted the head nurse waving her over to the nurse’s station.

“Hey, Rebecca. How was your night?” Dani asked with a smile, sitting her stethoscope down on the counter to toss her messy hair into a bun, and then threw it back around her neck.

“It was hectic. We got slammed with a four car pile up after you left.” Rebecca sighed, handing her a tablet. “Bed four is ready to be seen. He came in with a complaint of ‘his worst headache ever’. BP is 185/100 with a long history of hypertension.” She presented to Dani as she looked over his chart.

Dani thanked her and moved toward the occupied bed. “Mr. Turner, this is your third time here this month. I thought we talked about this?” Dani chided, checking over his vital signs machine.

Mr. Turner shifted in the bed, “I know, Dr. Reid, but those meds made me feel so bad. I can’t take ‘em. Can’t you just give me something for the headache?” The patient requested.

Dani shook her head. “What good will it do you if we don’t treat the cause? Mr. Turner, your blood pressure is severely uncontrolled.” Dani paused, pinching the bridge of her nose, “If you don’t get this under control, you can die or have a stroke.” She explained to him, but could tell she was getting nowhere.

She pulled the rolling stool over to his bedside, taking a seat. “Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna treat your blood pressure first. Once we get that down, if the headache doesn’t go away, I’ll treat it. Deal?” She bargained with him. Mr. Turner grumbled an ‘okay’ knowing he wasn’t going to win. “Perfect. Rebecca or Nicole will be back with your medicine.” She patted him on the shoulder, flashing him a sweet smile.

Walking back over to the nurse’s station, she gave Nicole the medication orders. Dani made sure to tell Nicole to get her if the patient gave her any trouble. Dani liked working mornings in the ER. Usually, it was pretty slow.

She sat behind her computer, working on chart notes, when she heard a commotion in the ER lobby. “I’m looking for Dr. Reid. I’m her so-called best friend.” She knew that voice. Dani rose from her seat so fast she knocked it to the ground as she ran out of her office. She rushed around the corner to see Frankie being held by two security guards. “Fuck,” She mumbled, stomping toward him.

“Tequila!” Frankie boomed, trying to move past the guards. “Come on, Teq. Tell ‘em to let me go.” He told her as they continued their hold.

She shook her head, “Frankie, stop. Let’s go talk somewhere that isn’t in the middle of my ER” She looked around at the growing crowd as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her office. She closed the door behind them. Dani walked around her wooden desk, picking up the knocked over computer chair. “What the hell are you doing, Frankie?” She questioned him, taking a seat.

Frankie scoffed, “I could ask you the same damn thing.” Frankie sat in one of the other chairs, crossing his arms.

“I’m trying to fucking work, Fish.” She hissed at him. His nostrils flared, a quick sign that he was mad.

“I saw you and Pope.” He confessed, and Dani’s heart dropped. Thoughts raced through her mind. She wasn’t sure how to explain it. Then again, after everything Frankie has done in the last twenty-four hours, did she care?

“That’s none of your business.” She replied calmly, sitting forward in her seat. “You have no right to be upset.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, “You fucked my best friend, I think I do.” The words flew from his mouth before he could stop them. Dani’s eyes widened and she stood up.

“Get out. This conversation is over.” She demanded, pointing toward the door. Frankie didn’t move. “Get the fuck out, Morales, before I call security.” Frankie conceded, standing up, opening the door, and walked out.

Once she was sure he was gone, she let out a shaky breath, falling back into her seat. She cradled her head, thinking about how everything had gotten so messed up. Frankie had no right to be mad at her, right?

A knock at the door drew her out of her thoughts, and she lifted her head. “Shit, you okay Reid?” The doctor in the doorway asked.

She wiped the stray tears that had fallen and sniffled, “Yeah, I’m good, Karev. Have you seen the Chief? I need to talk to her.”

Dr. Karev studied her face for a second before answering, “Last I saw her, she was in her office. Are you sure you’re good?” He asked again, concerned. She nodded, and he went on his way.

Dani left her office, walking toward the Chief of Surgery’s. She stopped outside of the door, the sign read ‘Dr. Meredith Grey, Chief of Surgery.’ She took a deep breath to center herself before knocking on the door. A muffled ‘come in’ filtered through the wood. She opened the door and stepped inside. “Ah, Dr. Reid, just who I needed to see.” Dr. Grey welcomed, gesturing for her to have a seat, which she quickly took. This wasn’t good.

“I heard there was an incident in the ER lobby this morning. What happened?” She questioned her. Dani gulped, unsure of how to answer.

“I’m so sorry, Mere. It was my friend, Frankie.” Dani sighed. She wasn’t going to need to put in a leave, because she was going to get fired.

“Frankie, like the best friend with the coke addiction, Frankie? Why would he be screaming in the lobby?” Meredith wanted to know. Dani had talked to her some about what he had been going through, trying to get advice on how to help him.

“It’s a really long story. The short version is: He did something stupid, really stupid. And then I did something that may or may not have as equally stupid. He found out, and threw a tantrum about it.” Dani explained, realizing that maybe that wasn’t the short version. Meredith cocked an eyebrow at her, shaking her head.

“I swear, you residents are going to be the death of me. Keep your drama at home, Reid.” Meredith groused and rubbed her temples. Dani didn’t want to mention South America now, but she had to; A month would go by faster than she could blink.

“Um, there was actually something I needed to talk to you about. A friend of mine got me connected with a hospital in Colombia, South America. They offered me a position, and I really wanna take it.” Nervousness was radiating off of Dani as she finally spoke these words out loud. Meredith was the first person she had told that she was going. If she couldn’t tell her, how was she going to tell Benny and Will? How was she going to tell Frankie?

“That’s, that’s great, Dani. You should go. I will work on getting the paperwork you will need. And you will always have a spot here at Memorial.” Meredith promised her. Those words lifted a weight off of her. She quickly thanked her, and got up to leave. “Hey, why don’t you take the day off? You’ve been working a lot lately. You can’t save lives if you’re tired.” Meredith added.

“Thank you, Chief.” Dani said sincerely

before walking back to her office to gather her things. She quickly typed a text to Santiago. Hey, Grey is letting me off for the day. We need to talk, Frankie showed up at the hospital. She pressed send and exhaled sharply.

Santiago responded when she was getting into her car. Fuck, is everything okay? Do I need to come to you?

No. Just meet me at the house.

Santiago was sure he broke a hundred laws getting to the Miller house. He didn’t know what Frankie had done, but if Dani had left early from work, it couldn’t be good. She was already home when he pulled into the driveway. He was inside the house and in her room before he recognized he even got out of his truck. “Teq?” She was sitting on her bed, staring at the doorway.

“Frankie knows, Santi.” Was all she responded. Santiago cursed under his breath, moving to take a seat next to her. “He showed up at the hospital, caused a scene.” Dani continued to tell him everything.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Santiago groaned. This wasn’t how he wanted Frankie to find out. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He turned to look at her. Her face was void of any emotion. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nodded and it wasn’t entirely a lie.

The events of the day showed her that she needed to go. That she wasn’t doing anyone any good here. She knew that if she stayed, she’d destroy herself trying to save Frankie. It wasn’t her responsibility to save someone who didn’t want to save themselves. It would break her heart, but broken hearts are easier healed than broken spirits.

“So, you’re really going with me?” Santiago’s cedar eyes bright with happiness as the words rolled off his tongue. He slung an arm around her shoulder. Pulling her into him, so she could rest her head against him.

“I’m going, Pope.” She sighed, content with her decision. “Meredith is already working on my travel papers. I”m gonna finish my shifts for the next two weeks, that way I’ll have plenty of time to pack.”

“Pack?” Will’s voice made their heads whip toward the door. “What do you mean ‘pack’?” Will asked again, widening his stance, arms crossing over his chest.

“We’re going to have to tell’em eventually, Cariño.” Santiago said, placing a kiss to her head.

Dani sat there staring at Will. He had been her rock for years. The entire Miller family had taken her in after the accident. When Will joined the army, it was her he wrote letters to. When Benny joined, it was the same way. The two men quickly took over the role of ‘older brother’ teaching her how to defend herself; Their father taught her basic car maintenance; Their mother taught her to cook.

“Okay. Someone tell me what the fuck is going on.” Will cured, “When did this happen?” He gestured between Dani and Santiago.

“You have missed a lot in the last twenty-four hours, hermano.” Santiago told him as he removed his arm from around her. Dani shifted, creating some space between her and the man beside her. Will moved further into the room, taking a seat in her corner chair.

Dani fiddled with her fingers, not even sure where to begin. Santiago noticed her nerves, offering her his hand for comfort. She accepted, lacing her fingers with his. The warmth from him flowed through her, causing her to shiver. Feeling like she could face anything holding Santiago’s hand, she took a deep breath before telling Will what happened with Frankie. By the end of the story, Will’s face had his emotions written all over it.

He was pissed. How could Frankie do that to her? How could she run away with Pope? “So, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked, voice low and gravely. “You think that’s the answer?”

She shook her head, “No, I don’t. But I’m not thinking about me. I’m thinking about the good I can do there. I’m thinking about the people I can save.” Dani put emphasis on ‘can’ to try and get her point across.

Will nodded, understanding where she was coming from. They had a similar conversation when he left for the army. “If this is truly what you want, then I support you, one hundred percent.” Will gave her his blessing. Dani launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Thank you, Will.” She chirped as he squeezed her tightly. She released him, straightening herself up.

“Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. You still have to tell Benny.” Dani’s eyes widened. Benny was going to be crushed.

After the conversation, Will had left Dani and Santiago, but not before threatening that he’d hunt Santi down if Dani didn’t make it back. Santiago promised he’d protect her as if his life depended on it, which it did.

Not long after, Santiago left. His lunch break was long over and his boss was blowing up his phone. Dani used the time to herself to sit and think about everything. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she was making the right choice. She contemplated on how she was going to tell Benny. She decided to make his favorite dinner; His mom’s famous chicken pot pie. Thankfully, she had everything she needed.

Benny entered the house right as Dani pulled the meal out of the oven. “Holy shit. Tell me that’s what I think it is.” Benny grinned as he dropped his keys to the counter.

“Yep! Momma Miller’s chicken pot pie!” Dani answered him, putting the piping hot dish on the counter. “Why don’t you go clean up while it cools?”

Benny walked around the island to hug her. “You’re the best, Tequila. What did I do to deserve a best friend like you?” He questioned out loud before walking back through the house. Dani’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t ready for this.

Benny came back into the kitchen about fifteen minutes later. Dani had the table set for just the two of them. “What about Will?” Benny asked at the sight of the two plates.

“Date. Probably won’t be back tonight.” Dani replied, grabbing a beer out of the fridge. She handed it to the blonde man in front of her, gesturing for him to sit.

“Alright. What’s up, Teq? I know you well enough to know when something’s wrong.” Benny called her out. The two of them have never had secrets. Will always joked that they were more like siblings than he and Benny were.

Dani told Benny all about Frankie while they ate. She explained everything that happened between her and Santiago. “Santi, he, uh. He’s asked me to go to South America with him. And I said yes.” She whispered, and Benny almost choked.

“You can’t go to South America.” Benny said in between coughs. He cleared his throat. “Teq, you can’t go. I feel like I just got you back.”

Tears welled in her eyes, “Oh, Ben. You never lost me. You are always going to be the pain in the ass brother I always wanted.” She reached across the table to him. “I’ll text and call whenever I can. I'm not gonna be gone forever.” She promised him.

Benny stood up, his chair scraping against the tile. He pulled Dani to her feet, embracing her in his arms. The hug told Dani everything she needed to know. He was silently giving her his approval. They sat back down and finished eating, Benny asking the occasional question about what she would be doing there. She honestly didn’t know, but she was excited to see where this path would take her. When they were done, Benny helped her clean up, loading the dishwasher while she put away the leftovers.

The two of them dropped to the couch, turning on a movie. Benny hit pause and turned to her. “I gotta know. Is the sex that good, that you’d follow him to another country?” He jested, his voice playful.

Dani rolled her eyes, “Wouldn’t you like to know. Looking for tips, Miller?” She chuckled, throwing him a wink. Benny huffed a laugh, sticking his tongue out at her before he un-paused the movie.

Week by week, the days seemed to pass by a little faster. As their departure date grew closer, Dani grew more nervous. Not nervous, like she was regretting her decision, but nervous like she couldn’t wait to see what the future held for her.

Although they completely supported their friend, Will and Benny tried to get her to stay. They hated that she was leaving. They even tried to get their mom to convince her to stay. Boy, did that backfire. Momma Miller was nothing but excited for her, telling Dani to take complete advantage of the wondrous opportunity.

Dani laid in her bed, sparing a glance at her phone. 6:30am. Santiago would be there soon, coming to take her to get her stuff from the hospital. She finished her last shift days ago, but put off getting her things. A piece of her wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Carolina Memorial had been her home. She experienced all of her ‘real doctor’ firsts there.

Pulling herself together, she slithered out of bed. Throwing on her robe, she tip-toed to the kitchen trying not to wake Benny. She started a pot of coffee. As if on cue, Benny shuffled into the room as the liquid began to drip. His blonde hair a mess, sleep still heavy in his eyes. “Good morning, Benjamin.” She said sweetly. He grumbled a response that she only assumed meant ‘Good morning’. Dani never understood why Benny still got up so early, even though he was not a morning person.

Luckily for Benny, Dani knew just how to perk him up. “Coffee, black, no sugar.” She said as she handed him a cup. Benny hummed in appreciation, taking the drink. Dani poured her own coffee, gazing out the kitchen window.

In true North Carolina fashion, the weather changed almost instantly. The day before had been beautiful, but today rain moved in, fog blocking out the sunshine. Dani hated days like this. Benny, who had drained his coffee, noticed Dani staring out the Window. He knew what was going through her head; He was the one who picked her up after.

“Hey.” Benny called out to her, and she turned to look at him. He didn’t need to say anything else, he just opened his arms.

“I’m gonna miss you, Benny-boy.�� She spoke into his chest, and Benny chuckled at the nickname. He hadn’t been called that in years. Benny squeezed her tighter, only pulling away when loud bangs resounded through the house.

“Must be Pope.” Dani shrugged, pouring Benny another cup of coffee. Benny took it, going to open the door for him.

“Reid, I know you’re up. ¡Vamos!” Santiago yelled through the wood.

He jumped when the door swung open to reveal a very annoyed looking Benny. “What the fuck, man?” He groaned, taking a swig of his coffee.

Santiago smiled, “Sorry, Benny. I’m here to take Tequila to get her shit from the hospital.” He apologized. Benny mumbled something under his breath, moving to the side to let his friend in.

“She’s in the kitchen.” Benny said, gesturing toward it. Santiago slapped his shoulder as he passed by him, hastily making his way to her.

Santiago knew something was wrong when Dani hesitantly climbed into the cab of his red Ford. He recognized the look on her face, the anxiety. He’d worn that look many times. He didn’t press for information though. He just gave her hand a squeeze, reminding her that he was there.

As they drove along, something had dawned on Santiago. “So, we’ve known each other for what two years now?” Santiago asked Dani. She nodded in response, keeping her eyes on the road. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

She nodded again, “Santi, you’ve seen me naked. I think we are past ‘personal’.” She replied, fingers doing air quotes around personal.

Santiago bit his lip at the memory. It was only one night, but it was one of the best nights of his life. “You’ve met all of our families, right? Why haven’t we met yours?” He wondered, never recalling her even mentioning her family. Dani sucked in a breath at the question. She knew this day would come. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to tell him, it just wasn’t a pleasant memory.

“You guys are my family.” She whispered. “Well, the only family I have left. My parents died when I was seventeen, right before I was supposed to graduate. The Millers took me in, basically adopting me.” Dani paused, feeling Santi reach over to grab her hand. “I’m an only child, so Will and Benny are the big brothers I never had. No aunts, uncles, or cousins either.” She told him. The look on his face was the reason why she never told people, the look of pity.

“I’m sorry, Teq. How? If you-” He apologized, but she cut him off.

“It’s okay. They, uh, they wrecked their car. On a morning just like this. It was horrific. The hospital that they were transported to wasn’t a trauma center. They did their best to stabilize them for transfer, but it was too late.” She felt a tear drop as she sniffled.

Santiago wanted nothing more than to pull the truck over and take her in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Dani. Is that, is that why you became a trauma surgeon?” His words faltered, not wanting to push for too much information. She nodded; All she ever wanted was to do her best to prevent anyone from going through what she did.

The two gathered Dani’s belongings from her office rather quickly. Dani didn’t want to make a big deal about it. Meredith had stopped by, warning Santiago that he better take care of Dani or else and gave him the glare. Once they left, he told Dani that Meredith reminded him of Medusa, icy stare and all. She laughed so hard her stomach hurt, telling him that’s what the interns called her.

Dani remembered the night she first met Santiago Garcia. She had just graduated med school, completed her internship and was looking for a hospital to complete her residency. She reached out to the Miller brothers, who she grew up with, and stayed very close to. They welcomed her into their North Carolina home with open arms.

It was her first week there and the boys mentioned that they were having a friend coming in for a visit. “Pope is a good guy, one of the best, but will flirt with anything that has a pussy.” Ben warned her. She laughed at her friend’s crudness.

“Benny, you know I can handle myself. There is a reason y’all call me Tequila.” She reminded him, and Benny just nodded. “Besides, that is the last thing I need. I have a residency to focus on.”

Friday quickly approached. Benny went to meet Santiago at the airport while Dani and Will stayed to prepare for his arrival. Dani was helping Will cook dinner, when he came in from the back yard. “So, uh, I burnt the steaks.” Will confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. Dani threw a kitchen towel at him.

“Will! I marinated those steaks all day! How did you burn them?” She asked him, laying her head on the counter. “What are we going to feed your friend now?” The words were mumbled into the granite, but Will still heard her. He walked around, rubbing her shoulders.

“Santi will be fine with burgers from Luanne’s. You don’t need to impress him.” Will assured her and she groaned, standing up straight.

“Yes, I do. Aside from me, he’s one of your oldest friends. I want to make a good impression.” Dani knew she sounded whiny, but she really did want to impress Santiago. Will just gave her a look. “Fine, I’ll go ahead and call in an order. You think Benny will want his usual?” She asked, reaching for her cell. Will nodded and asked for his usual too. Dani quickly ordered their dinner, telling Will it was on him because he fucked up the steaks. Will laughed, tossing her his card and keys.

“Go get our food, Tequila.” He said teasingly. She shot him a quick middle finger before grabbing her bag and walking out the door.

Luanne’s was packed that night, so Dani ended up waiting a lot longer than she thought she would. Will had sent her a text saying that Benny was back and Santiago was asking where the mysterious Tequila was. She replied promptly, letting him know that she was leaving the diner now and that Luanne threw in a few slices of her apple pie for the wait.

Dani pulled Will’s jeep into the driveway. She slid out of the driver’s side, walking around to get the bag of food. She walked into the house, yelling that she was back. It was like a stampede through the Miller household. Benny rounded the corner first, followed by Will. Santiago came around last, calling Benny a “fucking cheater”.

“Guys, slow down.” Dani chuckled, walking the rest of the way into the kitchen. “What are you cheating at now, Benjamin?”

“Fucker thought he could pull a quick one. That was my fucking mushroom and you know it, Benny.” Santi explained, flashing a bright smile in Dani’s direction. “So, Tequila, I presume?” He stretched out a hand, introducing himself.

“Nice to finally meet you, Santiago. I’ve heard so many things about you.” She replied, shaking his hand. She pulled her hand back, and Santi shamelessly let his eyes roam over her.

“All good things, I hope? And Please, you can call me Santi.” He flirted, tongue swiping out to wet his lips, before sucking his bottom one back between his teeth. Dani scoffed and shook her head.

“Well boys, you were right. He didn’t even last five minutes.” Dani snorted, handing out the to-go boxes.

“Let’s eat. Then I can go back to kicking your asses at MarioKart.” Benny joked, before ripping into the container and taking a bite of his burger. “God, I swear Luanne makes the best burgers.” He groaned. The four of them ate, chit-chatting comfortably. Dani was surprised at how easy she fell in with Santi. It was like they had known each other forever.

Dani smiled fondly at the memory. Her and Santi stayed in touch after that weekend. She never imagined she’d find herself here, moving to another country with the man.

Even now though, when Santi had taken up so much of her time, she found her thoughts drifting back to Frankie. She was leaving in less than 24 hours and she still hadn’t told him. Dani picked up her phone, thumb hovering over the call symbol in Frankie’s contact. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pressed it. The line rang once, before going straight to voicemail. You’ve reached Frankie Morales. Leave a message. “Fuck.” Dani sighed out, tossing the phone to the bed.

Maybe it's better this way, maybe I should just go. Dani knew it would be hard, not saying goodbye. So she wrote him a letter. A letter telling him she was leaving, that she was sorry, and she would see him again.

Dani and Santiago opted for a midnight flight; The airport was almost empty. "You can still stay, you know? I won't hold it against you." Santi whispered to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes. He knew leaving would be hard on her, especially after everything with Frankie.

"You're stuck with me, Pope. My name is already on the apartment lease." She smiled at him. She was more than ready to go. Ready to make peace with her past and embrace her future.

Frankie woke up and started his normal morning routine. Vanessa was already in the kitchen making coffee. "Hey, this was stuck to the door." She told him, handing him an envelope. His name in her hand writing. He ripped it open, pulling the paper out. His eyes roamed the page, reading every word.

"No. No. No." Frankie mumbled, "fuck, I have to go." Frankie grabbed his keys and rushed over to her house.

He banged on the door, not relenting until Will opened it. "Tell me she isn't gone. Tell me Dani didn't leave." Frankie cried, still gripping the letter in his hand.

Will shook his head. " I'm sorry, Fish. They flew out last night."

Frankie's heart stalled in his chest. He dropped to the concrete of Will's porch. She was gone. He never got to apologize for anything. She was gone.

Catfish,

I hope this finds you well. I tried, Frankie. I tried to call. I tried to come see you. After everything that’s happened, I figured that this way was for the best. I’m leaving , Fish. I’m going to South America with Santi. By the time you get this, I’ll already be 35,000 feet in the air.

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m so fucking sorry. I wanted so bad to help you, to be what you needed, but I wasn’t. And that’s okay.

Frankie, when we meet again, I hope things are better. I hope you are better. I want nothing but happiness for you. You will always be my best friend.

Love always,

Tequila.

TAGS: @danniburgh @speakerforthedead0 @221bshrlocked

Translations:

Querida- dear, lover

Vamos- Let’s go

Hermano- Brother

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 1

SAVED WORK

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

***

The man ran through the hall, his footsteps echoing throughout his house. He tried to navigate the dark halls, too scared to turn on lights or stop and think. He turned every so often, hoping your figure wasn’t behind him anymore. But it always was. He was panicking, you could tell. He could feel sweat stick to the inside of his white button down and the creases of the dress pants he had yet to take off.

He tried to avoid the small side tables and expensive foreign vases that lined his hall. He had managed to trip over a few tables though, knocking the glass onto his floor, shattering it. Each time he’d whisper a soft curse. There was glass beneath your shoes that probably cost millions of dollars. You found it funny. Even now, running for his life, money was still at the back of his mind.

He ran into the next room he saw, his office. A closed off space with nowhere to run. He turned around, looking at each wall. You could hear a string of curses fall from his mouth before he turned to you.

His small study still had a lamp on, the room dimly lit with the yellow-tinted light.

“Please, what do you want? Money? I can do that. Hell, I can get you your own house! I’ve got connections. I can find people for you! Other people! Please, don’t.”

Now, most people would feel bad about this. Chasing a man through his own home with certain ill intention. But you had seen his life. You’d seen what he does to people. He’d tear apart families, kidnapping people and selling any drug he could find. His hands were soaked in blood, something you could understand. But while you had killed, you picked your victims well. They were the most guilty people you could find. Murderers, kidnappers, kingpins, anyone who managed to escape justice.

Some called you a serial killer, a term that wasn’t exactly incorrect. Some thought you were a vigilante, which also wasn’t wrong. But no matter what, everyone was silently grateful for everything you did.

You always found a new target. From whispers on the street, other criminals, cops who needed a break, sometimes Nick Fury himself would send you a case file or two. You had seen it all, people with souls blacker than night. And this man was no different.

“I don’t want money, Laurence. You’ve killed innocents. You’ve let people die. You’ve heard them beg for mercy and have granted none. Why would I give you a luxury you haven’t given any of your victims?”

The man stuttered. His eyes darted around, frantically trying to find something. Maybe a weapon or just an idea of how to get out of this mess. He suddenly spoke, his voice shaking and cracking. “Because I have information! There’s this man who’s building some huge weapon. Probably wants to take New York out. He could start wars with this thing, yeah? It’ll kill millions in a heartbeat. I know what he’s got! I know what he’s doing, I’ve met the guy! I’ll tell you everything.” He spoke quickly, hoping to finish before you decided to end him. “But not if I’m dead.”

You scoffed. “Tell me, why on Earth would I accept the pleas of a dead man?” You asked. It was a real question, despite your sarcastic tone.

“I’ve got the info! He was chatting with some friends of mine, gave ‘em a whole file about it.” He reached toward the desk and pulled a file off of it, showing it to you. It read “SPECTR2” on the front in small, black script. Your eyes widened and you grabbed the file from him.

He watched as you read over it and confirmed his theory. He was right. Whoever this man was, he had the real thing.

“Alright, fine.” You said, accepting his offer.

“Oh thank god! I knew you’d be reasonable, you’re all about ‘the greater good’, yeah? I’ll tell you whatever you want, lady.” He said, relief washing over his features.

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held the file at your side. “Thing is, I know all about this project already. I don’t need you.”

The panic quickly spread across his face again and he racked his brain for something else. “C’mon, don’t I get something here?” He said, glancing at the walls to find some kind of weapon.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll make your death quick.” You said, taking out one of your swords. He only had a minute to react before he was already dead. You had gotten used to the sight of death, though it wasn’t your favorite thing, there was something satisfying about knowing you had avenged people in some way.

His blood had already stained the carpet he had surrounding his desk and leaked along the cracks of the wooden floor. You groaned at the thought of cleaning your shoes after this and sat down at his desk chair, looking for any other info on the man starting up Project SPECTR again.

***

“So you want us to team up with some psycho killer?” Tony said, leaning back in his usual chair. The meeting room was packed, each member of the team, and some newer additions, crowded together at one table with Steve stationed at the front.

“She has information, Tony. She says lives are in danger.” Tony looked at him ridiculously.

“I’ve got my share of psycho’s on this team and now we’re working with another?” Tony gestured to Bucky and Loki’s side of the table. He got a glare from Nat and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. “Her terms are insane! She wants immunity for every crime she’s done or ever will do. That doesn’t sound insane to you? What if she’s got some master plan and we won’t be able to arrest her for it?”

Nat looked between Steve and Tony. It was obvious they weren’t getting anywhere.

“She’s got info we need. If she wanted to enact some ‘master plan’ she’d just use whatever death machine she’s got, not tell us about it. If she’s serious, we’ll hold up our end. If she’s messing with us, we won’t and we’ll lock her up on site. But if she’s really found plans for what could be the world’s next terrorist attack, we at least need to see her proof.”

Tony looked to Nat, “She’s basically holding the world hostage! Either she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants or everyone dies. We’re really letting that slide?”

This time Steve spoke, though he glared at Tony a bit for his cursing. “I didn’t say I liked it. She’s put us in a tough situation. And Nat’s right. If she’s lying in any way, we’ll lock her up. We’ve got to living lie detectors at this table.” He gestured to Loki on one side of the table and Wanda on the other. Tony only rolled his eyes, silently accepting the argument.

“Are we sure about this? I mean, if she’s telling the truth, then we’ve got some sociopath with a death ray somewhere. But what if she’s lying? She’ll be in the compound. Even if we can lock her up, what if we aren’t able to before she accomplishes whatever task she’s trying to?” Sam said as soon as the room had quieted a bit. A few team members nodded along, considering the possibility.

“We have to take that risk.” Steve said.

***

You strode into the Avengers’ compound, appreciating the space. It was larger than what you were used to. You had jumped from house to house, staying away from law enforcement. If all went well though, you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

There were a few Avengers there to greet you. You had recognized them from the news and you were interested in seeing Natasha here. Among them, you saw Tony Stark. You’d recognize him a mile away. He looked different from his father, though he had the same sarcastic look on his face. You considered punching him now, maybe giving him a serious injury. But, sadly, there really were lives at stake.

Captain America stepped closer to you, holding out his hand. You took it hesitantly, the gloves of your suit meeting his hands. You appreciated the hood of your outfit now with the light reflecting off of windows and into your eyes. It was at least a little bit of protection.

“Specter. Good to meet you. I’m Captain Rogers, just call me Steve.” The other Avengers stepped to his side, making you slightly uncomfortable with how close they were. You couldn’t show it though. You had to be steeled, show no fear. Especially since you were in the lion’s den.

“This is Natasha, Tony, and Thor. We’ve got a meeting room just this way.” He got straight to business and began leading you away. You were careful to let the four Avengers go in front of you, and you were certain at least Natasha had noticed this action. Tony kept glancing back to you, slightly nervous. You could accept that. You felt nervous too, though you had gotten good at concealing your nerves, even before you had ‘died’.

You entered the room which had all of the other Avengers in it as well as five empty chairs. You were seated at the end, directly next to Natasha. Steve settled himself in the end chair right next to you. You looked at the rest of the group who were all doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at you.

“Alright, Specter. Should we call you Specter?” You nodded, letting Steve continue. “Your conditions are questionable to say the least. We need to figure out if you’re actually telling the truth about this weapon first.”

“That’s fine,” you began, “I’d do the same.” You opened up your file, noting how there was a small camera above you, casting a picture of the file onto a board at the front of the room. You smiled at the innovation, curious about how exactly it worked. It had been a while since you’d gotten to appreciate technology, and where better than the home of a Stark.

“This is a real file. I worked on this project years ago. It was meant to help heal people. Stitch them back together, even when they were on the brink of death. But it malfunctioned. I can tell you this is real. Check any references you like, though it’ll be hard to get your hands on. We never made digital copies, this is our original paper.”

Tony squinted at the paper, seeming confused by it.

“And by we, you mean…?” Another man trailed off. You recognized him as Hawkeye, though you hadn’t memorized their actual names.

“Me and Howard Stark. We worked on it back during the war, it was like our pet project.” Tony seemed less confused now.

“That was over half a century ago. How exactly are you standing here?” You sighed at Hawkeye’s question.

“It’s a rather long and annoying story. Let’s keep it simple and say I’ve effectively scared off death.”

“Guys,” Tony said, still looking at the projection of the file. The room turned to him and you were thankful for whatever subject change he had to offer. “I’d love to say she’s full of it, but I know my father’s handwriting. That’s his signature too at the bottom.” As he pointed the small camera zoomed in. You’d have to ask him about the technology’s design later. Assuming this actually went well. You slightly cringed at the thought of speaking to a Stark again, but you’d manage for the sake of a new discovery. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes Boss?”

You heard a woman’s voice in the room that didn’t belong to anyone present. You quickly figured out it was an AI system Stark had made.

“How well does that match Howard’s handwriting?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI, Friday, spoke again.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The team didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.

“So there’s really someone set on ending humanity?” A man said across the table. You remembered his moniker being something bird themed, like Hawkeye’s, but it wasn’t coming to you.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place unless absolutely necessary,” You said. The Captain glanced around the table and the group seemed to silently make their decision.

“Alright. We’ll meet your terms, but understand that you must stay here through his whole process. No ‘missions’ of your own.” You thought over his offer. It was slightly tempting. Though you’d miss your little hunt for criminals, it would be nice to have a house for longer than a week.

“Fine. But you can’t bind my powers or spy on me or some bullshit.” The Captain nodded, agreeing.

Suddenly, you were a temporary Avenger.

***

“I don’t like her. She’s too calm. We’re facing a giant death machine and she’s completely stone faced.” You could overhear the conversation from where you stood outside the Avengers common area. Natasha had offered to show you around and you had denied, instead accepting a map and list of locations you’d be interested in.

They were sitting around in a circle of couches, all facing each other. Some of the members seemed distracted. Like one with long hair who was slowly stroking the spine of a book he carried in his hands and another with a striking metal arm. You had to admit, the team was certainly good-looking.

You continued to listen to the conversation, though you had lost a bit of the argument when you retreated into your thoughts.

“What can we do? I’m hardly happy about this, but she’s holding the world hostage, like you said. Millions might die if he didn’t have that info.”

“And what, we’re trusting a serial killer? She’s murdered who know’s how many people and we’re supposed to just sit here and fucking sing Kumbaya?!” Tony said. You could see his point. You wouldn’t trust you either.

“Many of us have killed.” Loki said, offering some perspective and hoping someone else would continue his point. He was still on ‘house-arrest’ and was hardly considered trustworthy. Stark wouldn’t listen no matter how silver his tongue was. But the others seemed to at least consider his words with the exception of Hawkeye who seemed upset that he even had to hear Loki’s voice.

“He’s right Stark. I’d hardly say my hands are clear, but here I am.” Natasha added, taking up Loki’s silent offer to continue his argument.

“I’m not okay with this. She’s absolutely mental. I can’t find anything on her besides media speculation. SHIELD didn’t have anything on her, despite the fact that she’s a well-known criminal and she’s got no history. No names attached, nothing. Just media speculation which is all made up. I checked.”

You took this time to walk out from the hall, the click of your shoes making the group look up. “It’s because you have the spelling wrong.” The entire team looked nervous at being caught. “Don’t feel bad. Of course you’d talk about me, I’m a stranger in your midst.” That seemed to calm some of them down, though they still looked wary of you. Stark was the first to speak.

“We’ve got the spelling wrong?” He asked.

“I’d expect so. You’re spelling my name as ‘Specter’, a ghost, like the media does. Try S-P-E-C-T-R, you’ll find a little more.” You before turning and walking out of the room. While you weren’t excited about opening up your backstory, it’d make this whole ‘trust’ thing a lot quicker. And if you were going to get anywhere, there’d need to be some sort of trust.

***

Project SPECTR - August, 1940

Howard Stark and Dr. Y/n L/n began SPECTR in August of 1940 and have been working on it for three years now.

It’s expected to help Allies win the war, though Dr. L/n believes it could— and should— be used for other purposes. There have been several malfunctions so far and I am unsure how they will continue. Stark has been promoting the idea among generals and strategists, despite the lack of finished product. Dr. L/n suspects it will not be finished by the time Stark suggests, in two weeks. She has told various generals not to expect anything in two weeks, though all generals seem to unfortunately favor Stark’s estimates. They plan to run a test run in one week and fully activate the machine. Both Stark and Dr. L/n hope it will be completely stable for at least ten minutes.

There was a messy signature at the bottom, though Steve identified it quickly as ‘Margaret Carter’.

They read through a few other files, and learned more about the original project. Reportedly, there was a severe malfunction, resulting in Dr. L/n’s death. Peggy had shut down the project immediately after, despite Howard’s begging that it would still work. There had apparently been a rift in their friendship over Dr. L/n’s death.

It also said that the Doctor’s body had disappeared in 1992, only weeks after Howard’s death, which had sparked a few conspiracy theories for those aware of her connection to Stark and Carter, two famous names. She was a leading scientist and was making seriously impressive strides. Stark was disappointed she had died so soon. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve done.

“Is that Specter?” Sam asked about the Doctor working on the project. Though the team seemed unsure of the answer, Steve responded.

“It must be. Why else would she draw our attention to this. She’s got personal experience with whoever is trying to restart the project, though I’m not entirely certain why a machine to heal people will be turned into a new weapon.”

The team tossed theories back and forth and you listened in, smiling when a few of them guessed right. You slipped away soon after though, heading down the hall to the training room.

[imaginethatneathuh]

The Hermit: Technical Boy - American Gods

Technical Boy x child!reader, father-child

Technical Boy needs to get away from the Drugs gods for a bit and comes across a kid.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop.

TW/CW: Blood, skull-cracking, hospitals, swearing, near-death experience (and making light of it), drugs, sex, starvation, adoption, fostering.

Word count: 3.6+ K

•

Sometimes, Technical Boy just needed some air. Everybody does, but with him, it was more of a necessity so he wouldn’t blow up at someone.

Sex (the druggie) had been teasing him a lot more than usual and he hated it. Sure, Weed and Coke tried to get her to stop, but she started doing it behind their backs, and if Technical Boy told Weed about it, he’d be a snitch. He did not want to be known as a snitch bitch amongst the drug gods. That would be a nightmare.

He could have asked for Weed to help him calm down, but he didn’t feel like calming down that way. He wanted some peace, not to get high.

So, here he was, walking down some random street in some random city because he didn’t want to be anywhere near the druggies.

Yes, they’re his best, and only, friends, but he doesn’t always want to get high. Being around them, usually meant getting high off them. Sometimes, it’s nice. Sometimes, it’s not.

Technical Boy, in a dice hoodie with the hood up and black sweatpants with fire at the bottom, stared at his phone, scrolling through the news.

It was a lot of shitty stuff.

He wasn’t surprised by that. The others, “family” of the druggies, were at it again. Those of that sort, those with the brown hair and eyes, it’s like they were born to create chaos and discord in the world.

Technical Boy rolled his eyes, scoffing. He slipped his phone away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The god turnt to the sky, eyes closed.

As he walked, passing by an alley, Technical Boy heard quiet sniffling.

Instead of stopping, he kept walking.

There were plenty of homeless people in the world. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born into wealth or lucky enough to be able to keep their homes. Some people get shitty deals.

Nothing he could do about it. Nothing World would allow anyway.

Still, the god noticed that the sniffing was much higher pitched than normal, adult sniffling. He had an entire database of sounds at his fingertips, and as a part of him and his domain. It sounded like the sniffles of a child crying.

He stopped and hung his head.

‘This had better not be a kid,’ he thought to himself.

He didn’t like children, in theory. He’d never actually met one but from movies and shows, they seemed insane. It’s likely, upon meeting one, he wouldn’t know what to do.

Technical Boy wasn't good with regular adults. Dealing with a child would be impossible.

So, instead of assuming he was right and the sniffling was coming from a child, he decided he was wrong and approached the alley’s mouth as if an adult was in there.

“Hey, man, you okay?” He asked.

The god peered in, trying to make out anyone.

Something small shifted around. It was far too small to be an adult like he’d hoped. The small thing poke its head out from underneath a small, makeshift cave of junk. It quickly hid after seeing the god.

Technical Boy looked around and sighed, shutting his eyes.

‘It takes, in total, from 0-18-years-old, $284,570 to raise a kid, and a good chunk of a parent’s day to take care of a kid,’ he thought. ‘I have the money, but I don’t have the time.’ He opened his eyes and looked at the makeshift shelter. ‘Why the fuck is my first thought taking care of the kid? I could drop them off at a home or something. That’d be easier.’ He walked closer, trying not to scare them. ‘But the foster system here is fucked. The kid could get hurt, be abused, or die.’ As he approached, he noticed the kid watching him. ‘But there are tons of good families who foster and adopt, too. They’re not all bad. 1.5 million kids have been adopted and roughly 140,000 kids are every year. So, there’s a good chance the kid will become a part of a family.’

The kid pushed themself away from the opening and into their shelter.

“Hey,” he said. “Hi, are you okay?”

Technical Boy knelt down and watched for the kid.

“Leave me alone. I’m fine. Go away,” they said.

There was a silence. The god did not leave.

“Please, go away?”

‘The kid sounds weak. Like they haven’t eaten in days. When was the last time they showered or took a bath, too? I can smell ‘em even from over here.’ Despite the disgusting alley floor, Technical Boy seated himself.

“Nope. Can’t. Brain won’t let me.”

An old, rusted out can came from the shelter, flying straight at Technical Boy. He easily dodged it.

“Wow, you’re a dick,” he joked.

He heard a small huff.

Slipping his hands into his pant pockets, he found candy, probably chocolate, that he’d forgotten about.

‘This is so not healthy for a kid,’ he thought, playing with the wrapper in his pocket. ‘But, it’s better than nothing.’ He took the candy out, finding a Snickers. ‘Called it.’

“Hey, you like chocolate?” He asked them.

More shuffling from the shelter. “No. Especially not from a stranger.”

“Here.” He tossed the Snickers into the mouth of the shelter. “Have a Snickers. It has nuts.”

A thin hand reached out and snatched the candy quick as a whip.

The tech god raised an eyebrow. “Thought you didn’t like chocolate.”

Another can came from the darkness and he dodged it again.

The kid unwrapped the bar and used the wrapper to fill a gap in their home. Hungry, they scarfed the candy down.

‘So small. The kid must be starving.’ Technical Boy continued to watch the mouth of the shelter, his concern for the kid growing.

“You always around here?” He asked.

A small piece of glass was thrown at him but it didn’t get very far, falling an inch or so away from him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Technical Boy stood up and brushed himself off. “I’ll see you later.”

He knew it would be impossible to convince the kid to come out of their hole and come with him on the first meeting, but he hoped to convince them to go into foster care sooner rather than later. If he tried to tell the authorities, the kid could get hurt or worse.

He left the alley and the kid watched him do so.

•

Technical Boy, in the druggies’ kitchen, placed an apple and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a bag.

Weed walked in, smiling. “Whatcha doin’?”

He looked over, a water bottle in his hand. “Nothing,” he said, turning back to the bag. “Just making a bag of food.” He cracked open the bottle and closed it again.

“Who’s it for,” they asked.

The tech god shrugged, putting a small stack of crackers and a container of cut cheese in the bag.

Weed wrapped their arms around his waist and rested their head on his back.

After closing the bag, he placed a hand on Weed’s, chuckling. “I’ve got to go, Weed.”

“First, tell me who the bag is for,” they mumbled.

He shrugged again. “I don’t know,” he said before he turnt around to face them. “But, as soon as I learn what their name is, I’ll tell you.” He booped their nose with a smile. “Promise.”

Weed giggled, sleepiness in their eyes.

Coke rushed in and grabbed an apple off the table, one from Weed’s garden. He stopped before he left and turnt around. “Are you two having cute times without me?” He asked, with a goofy smile.

“No,” Technical Boy said as Weed rested on his chest. “I was trying to leave, but Weed is sleepy.”

Coke bit the apple and walked over before picking Weed up. They wrapped their arms around him, nuzzling into him.

“Thank you, C,” the tech god said, earning a nod from Coke who practically ran out of the room with the apple in his mouth and Weed in his arms. “Don’t fall!” He shouted after them. Technical Boy picked up the bag and left for the alley.

•

The kid shoved a few cans into place on their mountain of junk. Technical Boy watched them work for a little, not wanting to interrupt until they were done. When they finished and started to head into their home, he approached.

“Hey, kid,” he said. “Brought you something.”

The kid, at the mouth, stared at him like a deer in headlights before rushing into their cave.

Technical Boy sighed and walked to it. “Ya know, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kid.” He dropped off the bag of food at the mouth of the cave before sitting down farther away.

They snatched it up as soon as they thought he was far enough away.

Technical Boy sat, crossed-legged, and watched for any signs of anger..

“You trying to poison me?” They asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Cap’s been opened.” The water bottle rolled to his feet.

He rolled it back. “Nope. I opened it for you. Those fucker’s are annoying and the ridges hurt.”

The bottle slipped into the darkness.

The kid, inside, sipped on it. “Tastes gross,” they said, pulling a face.

“It’s bottled water. It never tastes right.”

The two sat in relative silence as cars drove past and the kid ate. The occasional pedestrian peeked into the alley, giving Technical Boy odd looks, but he didn’t particularly care. He was used to it.

As the kid finished, they asked, “Why’d you come back?”

“Felt like it.”

“Why’d you bring me food?”

“Felt like it.”

“Are you a rapist?”

“No. You?”

They laughed a little. “No. Are you a peadophile?”

“No. That’s gross.”

“Are you going to tell the police where I am?”

Technical Boy sighed. “If I wanted to do that, I would have done it yesterday.”

“You gonna kidnap me and sell my organs on the blackmarket?”

“Sounds like too much work,” he said, stretching. “I’d rather hire someone to do that for me instead.”

Crunching came from the dark hole. It wasn’t cracker crunching. More like, a horse mowing down on a carrot or apple.

“This tastes good.”

“Yeah, a friend of mine grows their own food. Doesn’t like the food from stores. I’m pretty sure they want to start raising livestock, but, I don’t know.”

“Mhmm,” they said before tossing the core over his head into a nearby dumpster. “Do you think you could bring more?”

Technical Boy nodded. “Definitely. If my other friends don’t eat them all first. But, harvest was good, so I doubt they’ll all be gone.” Technical Boy pulled out his phone and texted Weed. “I’ll text them to hide some of the apples from the others just in case though.”

Carefully, the kid peered out, staring at his phone.

“There. Done,” he said, putting his phone away. “They’ll hide some for ya.”

A can came at him but he ducked.

“You told them?” They growled.

Technical Boy put his hands up in surrender.. “Woah, hold your horses there, kid. I haven’t said shite to anyone. I just asked them to put some of the apples away, that’s all.”

Inside the hole, they looked him up and down. “Can I have my can back?”

“No, it’s mine now.” The god pulled the can behind him protectively.

The kid giggled.

A text popped up on his phone. Technical Boy looked down at it and rolled his eyes.

“What?” The kid asked.

“Nothing, just my boss being a dick.”

The container Technical Boy had filled with cheese rolled out on it’s side.

He opened it to find a few crackers and some cheese. “I made the bag for you, kid. Not for me.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to be hungry.”

“Thanks.” He smiled softly and ate the cheese and crackers even if he didn’t really want to.

“My name’s not kid, ya know,” they said. “It’s Y/N.”

“Technical Boy.”

“That’s a weird fucking name.”

The god shrugged. “Should a kid your age be swearing like that?”

They shrew a can at him. Instead of dodging, he caught it and put it behind him with the other can. “Mine,” he said.

“Nuh-uh!” They said. “Gimme my can back!”

Technical Boy shook his head. “Nope. You threw it away meaning anyone can claim it. So, I did.”

Y/N huffed. “Dick.”

•

Weeks passed and every single day, without fail, Technical Boy came to Y/N’s little home with food and conversation. Once or twice, he brought clothes and blankets. He very well couldn’t let the kid freeze. What kind of person would he be if he did? Even though both Media and World didn’t like his disappearing acts and he got repeatedly scolded and punished for it, he didn’t care. For some reason, he found he had grown rather fond of the rude kid. He liked to believe they had begun to like him, too. Even if it was just a little, itty-bitty bit. The god no longer wanted to let them go into the foster system, rather, he wished to take care of them himself. But he knew Y/N wouldn’t agree, no matter how much they liked him. They were much too independent for that.

Since he’d started coming, little Y/N had grown in both width and height. No longer skin and bones, they moved around more and even left the confines of their home for more than building.

“I’m stronger now, so I can kick you better if you try anything,” they had claimed.

Technical Boy chose to see this as them trusting him more.

•

Technical Boy dropped off a bag of food at the mouth of Y/N’s home and sat farther away.

Y/N came out, sitting in front of the mouth in the light. They opened up the bag and smiled.

“Apples,” they mumbled.

Technical Boy smiled as they rifled through the bag. “Yeah, that’s the last of ‘em, though. Won’t be more until the next harvest.”

“Thanks.” Y/N looked up and gave him a pained smile before looking back down.

He shrugged and played with one of his confiscated cans. “It’s whatever, kiddo.”

Y/N tossed him a fruit snack baggie. He caught it but dropped his can.

“Ya gotta stop doing this, N/N,” he said, opening the baggie. “You need to eat more than I do.”

They flipped him off.

As he ate the gummies, he watched Y/N scarf down everything. At least that hadn’t changed.

“How are you feelin’? You think you’ll be okay here during the colder months? They are getting closer,” he said.

They looked up, some jelly on their mouth. Y/N wiped it away. “I’ll probably be fine. More fat means more insulation. Plus the blankets you gave me.” They picked at the sandwich. “Are you still going to come, even when it snows?”

“Of course, kiddo. Come rain or shine, hail or snow, I’ll be here until you don’t want me to be.”

Y/N stared at him for a while before crawling into their home. Inside, they rummaged through their things, pulling out bits of scrap and pushing away blankets. After a while, they found what they had been searching for and returned to the outside world.

Outside, they stood up and walked over to Technical Boy. They presented him a beaten up and squashed Snickers bar and refused to look at him while doing so.

Gently, the god took it from them. A Snickers bar, just like the one he’d given them when they first met. A strange, warm feeling spread throughout his chest and he smiled.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Instead of going back to the cave, they plopped down next to him and wrapped their arms around one of his. They nuzzled into his arm and held on tight.

It was a rather odd sight. A much larger, muscled man with an odd style choice and a clean visage being clung onto by a small, dirty child no older than 10, no younger than 5.

Looking down at the kid, Technical Boy knew he had to protect them, no matter what. This was his kid now. They had been for some time.

•

Another day, another bag for Y/N.

Technical Boy did as he always did, placed the bag at the mouth of the makeshift shelter and sat down opposite of it.

But, Y/N did not come out.

The god waited for a few minutes. When they still had not come out, he called for them. Still, there was no response. Technical Boy stood and walked over.

Placing a hand on the top of the mouth, he looked inside. “Y/N, hey, are you okay?”

Y/N lay limp in the makeshift nest.

“Y/N?” He nudged their legs with one of his hands.

Still, they didn’t respond.

Crawling a little into the small space as best he could, Technical Boy shook Y/N’s shoulders. “Y/N, wake up. Kid, please. This isn’t funny.”

Nothing.

At this point, the god had gone from fine to freaking.

Wrapping an arm around them, he pulled them out of their shelter.

A giant, bloody gash spread around their eye and eyebrow. He could feel blood on the opposing side like they’d been hit with something and cracked their head on concrete. They were cold, freezing really.

‘Please, be okay,’ he thought.

Their back pressed up against his chest, Technical Boy, through his tears, gently smack their cheek.

No response.

He calmed his breathing, shutting his eyes tight. ‘They can’t be gone. Not yet.’

Hoping beyond hope, Technical Boy checked their pulse, pressing his fingers to their neck over one of the carotid arteries.

After a few minutes of silence, he could feel a faint heartbeat.

They were alive.

The god let out the breath he’d been holding, sighing in relief.

His kid was going to be okay.

He stood up. Picking them up bridal-style, he held them close.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered to them. “You’re gonna be okay.”

•

Pacing in the waiting room, Technical Boy picked at his lip.

‘I should have asked them to come with me,’ he thought. ‘I should have made them come with me. This could have been avoided if I had just taken them. They’d be fine right now if I hadn’t wanted to respect their autonomy. The streets are no place for a kid.’

He sat down in one of the chairs, elbows on his knees. His hands interlaced in prayer and he bowed his head. Though he trusted his technology to save them, he couldn’t help but pray they would be okay. Almost immediately, his heel started bouncing against the tile.

“Mr Brown?” Someone asked.

Technical Boy looked up and then stood. “Are they okay?”

The person smiled, probably a doctor, and nodded. “Their skull had been cracked open and they lost a lot of blood, but they’ll be okay,” they said.

“When can I see them?” He crossed his arms, watching the doctor for their reaction.

“You can go to the room, but they won’t be awake for some time.”

“That’s fine. I just- I need to see them.”

They nodded, smiling sympathetically, and gestured for him to follow them.

•

The doctor showed him to Y/N’s room and gestured for him to go in.

Technical Boy, as soon as he laid his eyes on them, sighed in relief.

The bandages surrounded their head and one covered the gash around their eye and eyebrow.

He walked to their side, his eyes never leaving them. As he got to their side, he gently cupped their cheek and rubbed it. He knelt down.

“I’m sorry, N/N. I should have given you some way to contact me or something,’ he whispered to them.

•

The first thing the kid felt when they woke up was something in their arm. It wasn’t painful, just weird. The second, and more enjoyable, feeling was someone holding their hand and the warmth coming from it. Y/N groaned slightly and opened their eyes, only to find Technical Boy gripping their hand, asleep, with his head resting on the bed.

The view looked strikingly similar to their dad when they were younger.

“Tech?” They asked, struggling to get the nickname out.

When he didn’t respond, they nudged him. He groaned a little. Struggling, Y/N got up, feeling a little lightheaded, and, still gripping Technical Boy’s hand, they tugged on him.

The god groaned again and rubbed his eye with his free hand. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, looking up at them. “How ya feelin’?”

They tugged on him again and mumbled something.

“What?”

“Hug.”

Technical Boy chuckled and leant forward, hugging them tight.

Y/N hugged back, nuzzling into his neck.

“You fucking scared me, kid,” he said. He rubbed their back gently as he broke away from them.

Y/N immediately took his hand back, not wanting to be seperate from him. “Feel like I got hit by a brick and cracked my skull open on the sidewalk before crawling back home,” they rightfully complained.

Technical Boy rubbed their cheek, concerned. He dropped his hand and took their other one into his. “I know you probably prefer being on your own, but I really care about what happens to you and I don’t want you to be on your own,” he said as he looked them in the eye.

“Whatcha sayin’?”

“If you want, my place is plenty big for two people and it’s always open to you.”

Y/N was quiet. So quiet, in fact, Technical Boy thought they might have shut down like they always did when he said something they didn’t like and didn’t have something to throw at him.

“Will it be safe?” They asked.

He nodded.

“Okay, but I’m not calling you dad.”

Technical Boy chuckled lightly. “I wouldn’t expect you to, kiddo.”

[whythinktoomuch]

iii. half-dead & buried

(pt. i)  (pt. ii) 

tw: gore & death

Turns out that Lena’s a pretty private person, which Kara thinks is why no one else is too keen on trusting her. But Lena also happens to be a pretty pretty person, which Alex thinks is why Kara is so very keen on overlooking that compulsive need for such privacy. 

“She won’t let us search her pack,” Alex complains to Kara, as she so often does. “I get that she needs her space and all, but what if she has a weapon? We need to know.” 

“She doesn’t have a gun,” Kara says. “She had one, but ran out of ammo several months ago. She does have a swiss army knife though, and a hunting knife on her at all times, but that’s it.” 

Alex stares at Kara in disbelief for a long moment, then snorts. “You two do a lot of chatting then? Is that why you’re always holed up in your room together?” 

“Shut up. It’s not like that.” 

“Mm-hm. So... whose bed are you gettin’ busy on anyway?” Alex asks without missing a beat. “Because if you’re doing that on my bed, I fully expect y’all to disinfect every—” A swift pillow to the face cuts her off before Kara’s blush can get too widespread. 

But honestly, Kara gets it. She fully understands the need to keep certain things to yourself. It’s a manner of exercising control in a world that regularly abuses the very lack thereof. 

It’s the reason why Kara starts off every day with 25 push-ups and caps off every night with an hour long run. 

And why Alex cleans her gun 12 times a day. 

And why every other resident there has their own personal idiosyncrasies to be tended to on the regular. 

And it’s why Lena wants to keep the contents of her beat-up rucksack to herself. And why Lena seems to be singlehandedly reading her way through their tiny makeshift library. And why Lena insists on wearing her tattered red flannel over every single outfit, even on the hottest of days, even with her long dark hair matted and dripping in sweat. 

“She’ll show us when she’s ready,” Kara says whenever the topic comes up, and eventually, she’s proven right. 

“Can I share something with you?” Lena asks one day, and Kara’s stomach does little flips in response. 

“Of course,” she says as a more verbal response. 

Lena studies Kara with narrowed eyes, then reaches inside her bag, the contents a-clanking like they always do, and pulls out a large yellow can to drop into Kara’s hands.

“Oh. Okay.” 

“They’re peaches,” Lena says. “Canned peaches.” 

“Yeah, I mean, I can read, yeah.” 

“That’s all I had to eat before you found me.” 

“Really? Jeez...” Kara hands back the can, scratches at the back of her neck. “Well, at least it tastes good, right?” 

“Are you kidding? I almost shit my pants every other day.” 

“Oh. Well, that sucks, man.” 

Lena rolls her eyes, shoving the peaches—and apparent bane of her existence—back into her rucksack. “I can’t even stand the sight of them anymore.” 

“So, you’re just lugging all those heavy cans around all day?” Kara asks, incredulous. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do with them?” 

“You could always give them away,” Kara says, and the very suggestion has Lena tightening her grip on her bag, knuckles paling noticeably. “I mean, you don’t have to, obviously. But if you weren’t gonna eat ‘em anyway...” Kara shrugs. 

And Lena does. At the end of the day, she hands over four 15oz cans of Del Monte sliced peaches and a small tin of kidney beans to the kitchens, and Alex actually thanks her. 

The following morning, Kara almost spills both of their breakfasts onto the library floor as she bursts through the doorway, unaccustomed to carrying two trays instead of just the one. 

When the time comes for the next scavenging mission, Lena wants to tag along, and Alex okays it, but refuses to give her a gun. 

“Are you serious?” Kara demands. “We always arm everyone when we go. Even Mike, and he’s a terrible shot!” 

“Resources are already low as it is,” Alex says, talking over Mike’s heated protests. “Just can’t risk it.” 

“I don’t care,” Lena chimes in. “I have my knife.” 

“She doesn’t care. She has her knife,” Alex promptly repeats, throwing a hand toward Lena, but Kara still leaves the compound all glowering and huffy. 

They travel for nearly a day before they discover an abandoned warehouse full of goods. One that they can surely mine from for the next five months, at the very least. Maybe even seven if they’re frugal about it, which Alex always has them be. 

So, Kara marks it on her ever-expanding hand-drawn map, tongue poking out between her teeth as she tries to get all the proportions just right. Later, she’ll wonder why she even wasted so much of her time and attention on such trivial matters. 

Its movements are clumsy, but oh so terribly quick as it claws its way out of the wall. The first slash catches Franklin around the chest, tearing through shirt and skin, and a burst of red hits the open air. His scream is what ends up grabbing everyone’s attention and sends most of the team sprinting in the opposite direction. 

Kara snatches her gun off the ground—stupid, stupid, stupid, it never should have been down there in the first place—and fires off a single round that puts a neat hole through the zombie’s forehead. It crumples instantly, but it’s too late. It was too late the moment it had appeared. 

Franklin is bleeding from too many places. There’s gashes all over his arms, the wound on his chest is flowing freely, and he has a hand pressed to his neck, where half-rotted teeth had torn through flesh and sinew. 

Kara’s hand is trembling as she raises her gun. “Franklin...” 

“It’s fine,” Franklin says, nodding furiously. “Just do it.” 

“Kara, there’s more!” Lena shouts in warning, and Kara whips her gun around, swiftly sending three more zombies dropping to the ground with bleeding foreheads and the backs of their heads blown out. “Okay, we gotta go. Now.” 

Kara stares helplessly back at Franklin, her gun hand raising half-heartedly once more, but this time, he’s shaking his head. 

“Look, they’re just gonna keep coming,” Franklin says, breath already stuttering and shallow. “But I can slow them down for you.” 

“We can’t let you do that,” Kara grits out, throat already welling up with regret. 

“I’m dead anyway. Go. I can do this.” 

Eventually, it’s Lena tugging insistently at her hand that drags Kara away from the scene. And it’s Lena’s hand squeezing at hers that keeps Kara from collapsing to her knees when they hear Franklin’s screams echoing after them. 

They run full-speed down a long, darkened hallway, chasing after the intermittent gunshots sounding somewhere ahead, hoping against hope that all the snarling noises are farther away than they sound. 

When they get to a dead end, Kara picks a door at random and shoulders her way through, hauling Lena after her, and they both end up face to face with a shotgun. 

“Jesus, Mike,” Kara hisses, swatting the gun aside. “Are you serious? You could’ve shot us!” 

“I thought you were a zombie! How the hell was I supposed to know?” Mike says, hands raised in defense.  

Kara just sighs and pushes past him. “All right, tell me the truth. How fucked are we right now?” 

“Not at all, actually.” Brainy tears his gaze away from the window. “We’ve managed to dispatch all the creatures at this end of the warehouse, and aside from a few stragglers outside and by the main entrance, I think we’re in the clear. It appears as if it was just a small horde wandering on its own.”

“Just,” Kara echoes, jaw clenching tight. “Just a small horde, huh.” 

Brainy stares, bewildered. “Yes?”

Kara shrugs her backpack off, dropping it at Mike’s feet. “Fill that for me. I’m gonna go pick off those stragglers.”

“By yourself?” Lena asks incredulously. 

“Let her go,” Mike says, eyes rolling. “She’s always like this.” 

Just as Brainy’s predicted, there’s only a few zombies left for Kara to take out, which doesn’t take too long. But almost an hour later, Kara’s still hovering by the main entrance when Lena comes looking for her. 

And Kara is just sitting there, hugging her knees, with her gun lying uselessly next to her. She’s watching Franklin, or at least, what used to be Franklin. 

He was only recognizable through his attire, half of his face having been chewed off. His limbs—all broken and bloodied, with the bone exposed—are already twitching, every open wound darkening in rapid decay. The light hazel of his one remaining eye disappears behind his pupil, and the body comes back to life. 

It’s frothing at the mouth as it tries and fails to sit up, lashing out with arms bent at odd angles. 

“There weren’t even that many,” Kara says finally, voice so quiet that it’s barely heard over the violent rasps. “He didn’t have to go like that.” 

“You can still help,” Lena says just as quietly. 

“I’m supposed to—” Kara covers her face with a frustrated groan. “I’m supposed to use something else. It’s protocol. We have to stab him in the, you know, even though he’s already so... We have to save bullets. Alex says that we have to save our bullets.”

“Well, Alex doesn’t have to know.” 

Slowly and cautiously, Lena reaches over and picks up Kara’s gun, and makes the decision for her. 

When they rejoin the group, no one asks about the stray gunshot fired, or why Kara is crying, or how come she and Lena are now holding hands. Everyone reacts to loss in different ways, after all. 

(next part here)

[fallout-lou-begas]

Elevated Extras: Ranger Ghost Companion

You a Courier? If so, this might be your lucky day...if you don't mind walking a bit and your eyes are good. 

(Original sketch by @tarberrymentats / based on the OC Companion Meme by @falloutfandomeventhub / if you borrow this concept please tag it as #fallout elevated extras)

General

Name: Ranger Ghost

Location: Mojave Outpost

How to obtain: Complete the sidequest “Keep Your Eyes on the Prize,” then begin the sidequest “Giving Up the Ghost” to get her reassigned from the Mojave Outpost. Once freed of her assignment, she can travel with the Courier to monitor Legion activity throughout the Mojave.

Companion Quest: “Giving Up the Ghost.”

Ranger Ghost, like everyone else, is sick and tired of being stuck at the Mojave Outpost. Unfortunately, orders are orders. With the courier’s help, though, she just might be able to come down from that rooftop, but dealing with NCR bureaucracy might be a worse ordeal than Legion crucifixion.

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together. You probably can’t tell, but that’d make me very happy. Let’s get the hell out of here.

Let’s talk about your tactics. Sure. Lecture the ranger on tactics. Go ahead. / What’re you thinking?

I want you to change your combat style. (humoring) Alright. / If you insist.

Use a melee weapon. Close combat, then. / Sure. We can hold their hands and tuck them in while we’re at it. / (Wild Wasteland Enabled) Try to remember the basics of CQC.

Use a ranged weapon. (stating the obvious) It’s what I do. / You going to spot for me? / (deeply sarcastic) Aww. Finally remembered I’m a ranger?

Be passive. Sure, give peace a chance. / Don’t go pacifist on me, now.

Be aggressive: Locked and loaded. / (mocking the company line) Right, and with “extreme prejudice.”

Enough about tactics. Agreed. Anything else? / Are we good, then?

Let’s talk about how close you’re following me. Is there a problem? / What are you...implying, exactly?

Wait here. Right. Things to do, places to be? / Holding down here. / I’ll keep watch here.

Follow me. Let’s roll out. / Finally. Don’t like waiting. / Right. Skip to my fucking lou.

Stay close to me. (sternly cautious) Define “close.” / Got it, on you. / Just don’t bump my gun.

Keep your distance. Positioning, got it. / Yeah, covering you. / (facetious concern) Don’t get lost, now.

Let’s trade equipment. Don’t get fucking handsy, now. / Just don’t hog the ammo.

(Overburdened). I’m not your fucking pack brahmin. / (exasperated) I’ve only got so many pockets.

(Sneaking). Staying low. / (wryly imperative) Quiet, now.

(In Courier’s iron sights). What the fuck is wrong with you? / (slowly, emphasizing) Watch your trigger discipline. / Don’t make me take that away.

(Courier lays mine). I’ve got my eyes on that. / You’d better have a plan for that.

It’s time for us to part ways. It’s because i’m a bitch, isn’t it. / Such sweet fucking sorrow, I bet.

I’d like you to go to the Lucky 38. Hm. Sending the Ghost to the haunted house. See you there. I’ll try not to spook the Securitrons.

We can meet again at the Mojave Outpost. (sucks teeth) Guess I’ll report what I’ve got back to headquarters. Hopefully by now they’ve got someone else watching the brahmins shit full-time.

Injured: (seething) SSShhit. / Didn’t want it like this. / (with conviction) I didn’t get off that roof just to fucking bite it.

Damaged Limb: (shout of pain) Fucker clipped me! / Sure could use a fucking medic.

Regaining Consciousness: What...what the hell happened? / (trailing off) Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck...

Death: (death rattle) / (weakly) Ghosts...can die, huh...ha...

Attributes

Aggression: Aggressive.

Confidence: Brave.

Assistance: Helps friends and allies.

Karma: Neutral.

Perks

Ghost of a Chance: When Ranger Ghost is by your side, so are the odds. In addition to gaining an extra 3% chance to critically hit, any single attack that would kill you may instead leave you just barely alive and invulnerable for a brief moment..

Drops, if killed

Ranger Vest Outfit

Ranger Grey Hat

Authority Glasses

Cowboy Repeater

Combat Knife

Iguana Bits

Grognak the Barbarian

Dialogue, Quest Details, and Ending Slides:

Dialogue

Why do they call you Ghost? What, don’t I scare you? Boo? Nothing? (beat) Well, if you gotta know, it stuck pretty quick back in basic. Not like there were many other albinos in boot camp. The all-white spooky bitch who shoots better at night? Yeah, that’s a ghost, alright. Pissed me off at first, but I came around when it started giving privates the heebie-jeebies. Just a little kick, is all.

What’s an albino? Albinism is a pigment disorder. You know, the color of your skin and hair? As in I don’t have color. Pale as a sheet.

[Medicine 35] A sharpshooter with albinism? Isn’t your vision affected? Done your homework, huh? Well, these big, bad sunglasses aren’t just for intimidation, doc. They only come off when I sleep. Sucks enough being photosensitive in the goddamn desert, but like I said. I’m a lot better at night.

What’s your real name? (the thousandth time she’s answered this exact question) If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.

Aw, come on. Curiosity killed the courier. Don’t push it.

[Speech 40] I’m just trying to understand my partner better. Then “understand” that I don’t owe you shit except loyalty. Just call me Ghost, and you’ll get that.

[Cherchez La Femme] Surely you’ve got a name to match that lovely personality. (flustered) Are you d-...I-...Yeah, I do.But you can just keep calling me Ghost. (quietly) For...for now.

What’s the deal with Ranger Jackson? Man hasn’t got a thought in his fucking head...which is why he’s such a good C.O., from the top down. He’s a nice enough guy on a good day. He’s...principled, for sure. But the man wouldn’t budge on an order from brass if it’d save his life. Stranded caravaneers get so bored and restless because of the impasse he’s overseeing that he’s started (excessive emphasis) “hiring” the rowdier ones for odd jobs off the grounds, which is why we’ve been “losing” supplies for a while. Gets shit done, I guess, but wish he’d show half that drive when bitching to HQ, but no. They tell him to sit tight, he says yes sir, and then he takes it out on us when we get frustrated at the frustrating bullshit.

Do you know Major Knight? (standoffish) Yeah. Good guy. Known him a while. Hell, he’s been at M.O. longer than I have.

What does he do? Repairs, mostly. With all the caravans backed up, we sort of have a monopoly on maintenance and upkeep. And believe me, he does damn fine work.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Is he...you know…? Is he...oh. Between you and me? Yeah. He and I are...alike. I mean, I’m the bitch everybody hates, so I don’t really give a shit, but beneath that…(thinking how best to describe him, ribbing him a bit)...accountant exterior of his, he’s really the soft, sensitive type. Needs someone to talk to sometimes. I’m that someone, sometimes, but if you get the chance...it’d do him good just to know he’s not that alone out here.

How can I best use your skills? Hard to find a way that’d be worse than all the wasted time at M.O., but I’ll make it easy for you: give me a target and let me shoot it. If it’s too close to shoot, I’m trained in hand-to-hand, and if it’s too far to shoot, it’ll never see me coming. Standard repertoire for a ranger.

What’s your opinion on the NCR? High enough to keep me enlisted, low enough to where I’ve got plenty to mock. We’re a good country, a damn good country. We’re the only real country actually left in the West. We’d be the best thing to ever crawl out of the bombed-out ruins of this war if it weren’t for all the bureaucratic bullshit, and the brass getting duller the higher you go. It’s all just song and dance and sloganeering to them out here. Whatever looks good on paper. They don’t give a shit what really happens to people out here, and if Caesar doesn’t kill us, that might. At least on the inside.

What’s it like being a ranger? Ranger training is the best, most brutal gauntlet this side of the Colorado. Hours and hours of days and days spent shooting, drilling, fighting, bringing the body to its breaking points, pouring blood and sweat just to get an inch past the wide-eye hopefuls who were always going to just wash out...and all of it just to stand on a fucking rooftop staring at ants and malnourished raiders on the interstate. I swear, if you gave headquarters a golden egg, they’d fucking cook it.

Were you at the battle of Hoover Dam? Was going to be, but believe it or not, I sat out sick. Got the fucking flu right before and was stuck at McCarran the whole time, half-lucid. Let me tell you, the whole tent of coughs and sneezes crowding around that radio, listening to the reports...when Hanlon ordered that retreat out of Boulder City, we were grabbing our rifles and getting ready to march out on foot, even if we could barely stand. We thought that was it. Of course, it wasn’t, and we cheered so loud when they radioed about the explosion that I hope Caesar damn well heard it.

Do you wish that you had been there? Of course I do. If I miss the next one because I’m stuck at the Outpost or some shit, I’m deserting with a dozen fed-up caravaneers to flank his fucking fort myself, if only for some goddamn excitement.

How do you feel about the Legion? Love ‘em. Joined the NCR because I just wanted to meet them that bad. Their new Legate’s such a heartthrob, I hear.

You’re not serious. (sucks teeth, deep sigh) Look. You saw Nipton. It was just a taste of what they do. I’ve seen good men die on crosses, and that’s a mercy compared to the good women. I hear when women sign up now, they get about five extra “are you sures?” from recruiters. Not officially, of course. Brass would never let people back home know how bad it is. But it’s just another thing that makes me glad I’m a sniper, sometimes. Engage at range. Out of reach.

What about Legion society? Do you know anything about life across the river? There’s nothing across that river. Nothing. (beat, pondering) Do you remember the Enclave War? Bitter, bloody, big explosion at Navarro? And the Brotherhood campaign out here? Even worse of a shitshow, but still, we won that out, too. But the Enclave and the Brotherhood at least stood for something. They were societies, or at least promises of one, and if things had shaken out the other way for the NCR at least something would still be standing here. The Legion isn’t like that. They aren’t “something.” They’re one big razor across Arizona, shaving everything down. And if we don’t stop them here, we never will.

What about their Legate? (with contempt) Lanius, “The Monster of the East.” Caesar must’ve plucked him out of hell or something after his first legate blew it at Hoover Dam. Word from recon is that the only reason we’re all still twiddling our thumbs there is that he’s out making friends for Caesar someplace, and he’ll be bringing them all back for a whole ‘nother goddamn jamboree soon. (tension broken by a funny thought; spoken dryly) Or should I say a Damboree. Since it’d be at the Dam.

Do you know anything about Mr. House? No. Closest I’ve ever been to the Strip has been McCarran, where I was too proud to get wasted on expensive booze in the casinos. As punishment, I got stuck with nothing to do but get shitfaced on cheap booze at the outpost. All I know is Mr. House runs the whole Strip himself, and there’s one casino, the Lucky 36 or something, that’s supposed to be all his. No one’s allowed in, no one’s ever come out. Frankly? Just strikes me as fucking weird.

Companion Quest: Giving Up the Ghost

After completing the sidequest “Eyes On the Prize” (in which the Courier checks Nipton for survivors), Ghost will remark that the Mojave’s going to hell, and all she can do is sit and watch. The Courier will reply that she ought to stop watching and travel with them, to which she’ll respond that her orders are absolute—but if the courier can change her orders somehow, she’d be indebted. The quest then begins.

= = = Stage 1: Deal with Jackson = = =

First, the Courier must speak to Ranger Jackson and convince him to consider Ghost’s reassignment. They can do this through the following dialogue options:

[Speech 80] This outpost is just waiting to be overrun by Legion. You’ll be the next Nipton unless you’re proactive.

[Speech 55; completed “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart” beforehand] Maybe I could tell your superiors about where I “found” these “lost” supplies, then.

[Barter 80] Ghost is an exceptional asset to the rangers. Stationing her here is a waste of valuable NCR resources.

[NCR Fame] There’s work to be done for the NCR out there, and Ghost is who I trust to do it with me.

[Black Widow] I’ve ways of making men come around...especially handsome men in uniform. (The Courier must then sleep with Ranger Jackson)

Note that the Courier can not simply complete the quest “Can’t You Find It In Your Heart?” as a favor to Jackson for Ghost’s reassignment. While he’ll let a caravaneer go, it’ll take more than clearing some ants from the road to get him to compromise his standing force and let go of a ranger. 

Alternatively, Jackson’s death will advance the quest.

Kill Jackson. Similar to Cass’ companion quest, Jackson can simply be killed. However, Ghost is far less sympathetic to this course of action and will confront the Courier over the murder. If Jackson is simply killed, the Courier will either need a convincing alibi [Speech 90] to argue that they weren’t responsible or admit to the murder. If the Courier fails the Speech check or admits to the murder, Ghost will turn hostile (“Maybe you didn’t fucking think this through, but do you know what we call someone who kills an NCR ranger? An enemy of the NCR rangers. Now, eat shit.”). Alternatively, the Courier can intimidate Ghost into silence with a [Terrifying Presence] option, after which a shaken but seething Ghost will simply ask the Courier to leave the outpost and never come back. Passing the Speech check is the way to not fail the quest from this option.

Kill Jackson and frame Cass. If the Courier kills Jackson themself, attempting to loot Jackson’s body will trigger a message suggesting that they could frame Cass for the murder by splashing whiskey on the body (so long as Cass is not currently the player’s companion and is currently at the Mojave Outpost, not the Lucky 38). By adding a whiskey bottle to Jackson’s body without themself or the body being discovered in the meantime, they can successfully implicate Cass for the murder, and explain as much to Ghost. She’ll buy it, since Cass was one of the most frustrated residents of the outpost and was drunk almost all the time. Cass will then disappear from the game, and if Lacey, Major Knight, or Ghost (if the Courier left the outpost before speaking to her again) are asked, they will explain that Cass was arrested by the NCR.

Have someone else kill Jackson. A desperate, fed-up caravaneer named Paul by the brahmin pens is willing to kill Jackson for 5,500 caps. This price can be negotiated down to 4,000 with a [Barter 60] check, and 3,500 with [Barter 75]. At midnight that night, Paul will attempt to sneakily kill Jackson. Alternatively, Paul can be incensed into attacking Jackson immediately and for free with a [Hot Blooded] trait check. In either case, though, there is no guarantee that Paul will succeed, and if Paul is killed then the Courier must advance the quest another way (though they can loot their spent caps from Paul’s body). When spoken to afterwards, Ghost will remark that she saw the Courier speaking to Paul and ask if they had anything to do with it. By passing a [Speech 50] check, the Courier can convincingly lie that they were trying to talk him out of it. With either the [Black Widow] or [Cherchez la Femme] perks, the Courier can lie and say that Paul very foolishly did it to try to impress them. With [Low Intelligence] the Courier can earnestly say that they thought “taking care” of Jackson meant doing something nice for him.

Somehow allow Jackson to die. If Jackson just somehow dies in an unaccounted way, such as from a spawned-in deathclaw eviscerating him in his own office, Ghost will remark on the strangeness of the situation but won’t blame the Courier. This is a failsafe option to prevent quest breakage.

= = = Stage 2: Find a Replacement = = =

If Jackson is alive, he’ll agree with the Courier that he ought to let Ghost go, but he’s still under orders to maintain a standing force at Mojave—a standing force which includes a highly trained sniper. If Jackson has been killed, Ghost will mention that Major Knight is next in command and would be glad to give her clearance, but that he won’t be able to do so without a replacement sniper, either. Either way, the Courier is tasked with finding a suitable replacement. The Courier can ask her for advice:

Who should I look for to be your replacement? They have to be NCR, obviously. Ex-NCR might work, too, so long as they’re in good standing. Any Dick or Jane off the road is a no-go, since brass put the kibosh on officially contracting mercenaries. Oh, and anyone you get would have to be well-trained. Not necessarily a ranger, but good enough to replace one, even for a sit-on-the-shitter job like this. Only the best and brightest get to stare at this fucking road all day, apparently.

Where should I look for your replacement? If you checked out some of the ranger stations around the Mojave, they might be able to move some people around. Hell, take it all the way to McCarran if you want, or with Hanlon. If you’re going to give them shit on my behalf, by all means, go nuts. A lot of higher-ups can be greased with enough favors, anyway. Whoever you get just needs the right credentials. Legion attacks get dragged asses and twiddled thumbs, sure, but bad paperwork would set a goddamn fire at headquarters.

The following characters can be recruited as the Mojave Outpost’s new watch:

A generic ranger. By speaking to the commanding officers of at least three of the NCR ranger camps across the Mojave with sufficient [NCR Fame], the Courier can speak to Chief Hanlon to arrange for Ghost’s replacement with a generic ranger. This option is impossible if “Return to Sender” has already been completed.

Craig Boone. If the Courier has completed “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” in a way that makes Boone repentant over his past, he can be persuaded to take over Ghost’s position as a good way to put his skills to use. Otherwise, he will refuse, either preferring to stay in Novac where he lived with Carla or not wanting to be stuck as a watchman again when he could be out killing Legionnaires. If selected, Boone’s home marker will change from Novac to the Mojave Outpost.

Manny Vargas. Novac’s other sniper can be convinced to take up Ghost’s post, but only if the Courier has completed “One For My Baby,” “Come Fly With Me,” and eradicated the Legion presence from Nelson. Once convinced that Novac seems safe, for now, he’ll be willing to reenlist if paid a generous salary. The Courier can either pay Manny 5,000 caps to reenlist now, pass a [Barter 65] check to explain that it’s a provisional reenlistment and reduce their bribe to 3,000, or if the Courier has already passed the [Confirmed Bachelor] check in dialogue with Knight, they can tell Manny about the cute little major sitting behind the desk all day there by his lonesome. Once convinced, Manny will relocate to the Mojave Outpost and take Ghost’s place.

Bryce Anders. This keen-eyed ranger can be recruited to Ghost’s position if he is rescued from the Vault 3 Fiends by the Courier. Once spoken with in Camp McCarran, the Courier can explain that the Mojave Outpost needs a new ranger stationed there. He will defer to Colonel Hsu’s authority on reassignments, and with a successful [Speech 60], [Medicine 40], or [NCR Fame] check, Hsu will agree to the reassignment on the grounds that it’s a useful position still sedentary enough to not complicate the ranger’s recovery.

Little Buster. The listless bounty hunter at Camp McCarran is looking for another career path and would be willing to take over Ghost’s do-nothing position. However, the only way to recruit him is to fabricate both credentials and enlistment records by either stealing personnel files from either Colonel Hsu’s office at Camp McCarran or from the filing cabinets at Camp Golf, or speaking to Daniel Contreras, who “knows a guy” who’ll take care of it if the Courier has already acquired access to Contreras' expanded inventory by siding with him in the unmarked quest “Dealing with Contreras.”

Private Halford. The sole survivor of Camp Guardian mentions that he wants to head back home through Mojave Outpost after being rescued from the mirelurk caves, at which point the Courier can mention no one is allowed to leave through there, and ask if he’d like to take Ghost’s position there instead. At first he’ll refuse, but with a [Speech 45] or [NCR Fame] check he can be convinced that a quiet, do-nothing watch assignment would be a lot better than anything else after what happened at Camp Guardian, to which he’ll agree. He will also relocate to the Mojave Outpost after being freed anyway, getting stuck like everyone else so that the speech check can be re-attempted. However, Halford isn’t considered well-trained enough for a ranger’s job. The Courier must speak to Jackson (or Knight, if Jackson is dead) and pass a [Speech 80] or [NCR Fame] check to make a strong endorsement, or a [Survival 55] check to explain how impressive it is that he survived an attack from so many mirelurks. Alternatively, the Courier can fabricate impressive enough credentials through the options required to assign Little Buster.

Once Ghost’s replacement has been assigned to the Mojave Outpost, the Courier only needs to speak to Ghost again. She will explain that she’s been “reassigned” to open patrol across the Mojave, ostensibly to track Legion activity, so long as she does so with the Courier. She also gains an additional dialogue option dependent on your choice of replacement:

What do you think of your replacement?

(Generic ranger) For this job? Any ranger’s as wasted as any other. I almost feel bad, I doubt she’ll like that fucking roof any more than I did...almost feel bad. Doesn’t quite cancel out the relief.

(Boone) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Strikes me as the...quiet, contemplative type. Likes to think. Not much else to do up there, anyway. I bet those brahmin pins have never felt safer.

(Manny) First recon is one hell of a pull. Took right to it, too, like he was already used to it. Seems like a nice enough guy, and seems to be getting along with Major Knight. Hell, you love to see it.

(Bryce) A good man. Heard about what the Fiends did to him, and after all that, he certainly deserves a break. Didn’t think of this shit job as much of a vacation before, but seems like it’ll do him good.

(Buster) Not sure where the hell you found this guy, but if (Jackson / Knight) gave the okay, then...okay. I would’ve put a goddamn brahmin in a beret up there if it could have gotten me another assignment.

(Halford) The mirelurk guy? Yeah, he seems alright. I’ve never actually seen a mirelurk, but after hearing his story, I don’t think I want to. I didn’t even know we had a camp that far up there.

Speaking to Ghost after her replacement takes her position completes the quest, and from then on, she can now be recruited as a companion. However, similar to Boone, she will only remain the Courier’s companion if they maintain good reputation with the NCR, and as an active-duty ranger, her intolerance for anti-NCR actions is even more strict.

Ending Slides

If "Giving Up the Ghost” is started, but never completed:

NCR Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, at least she was the first to see the bearer of good news come up the road. In the moment, at least, it was worth everything to be there.

Legion, House, or Independent Victory. Ranger Ghost remained at Mojave Outpost, dutifully, thanklessly, and restlessly. When the rangers there received word that the Legion had made their move on the dam, the entire outpost went silent. Waiting. From her rooftop perch, she was the first to see the NCR’s retreat, as civilians and troopers alike began fleeing through the Long 15. She was right: this whole time, all she could do was watch.

Ghost is dead. Ghost, bitterly, died as she lived...(deep sigh) at the Mojave fucking Outpost.

If “Giving Up the Ghost” is completed:

NCR Victory: When legionnaires by the score descended upon Hoover Dam, Ghost was proud to have been one of the many rangers in the battle that kicked their shit in back across the Colorado. She celebrated with the rest of them, even a smile creeping onto her face every now and then. Still, Ghost returned to business before long, as part of a squad out East tracking down the straggling remnants of Caesar’s retreating Legion.

Legion Victory: Ghost was among the many rangers who fought at Hoover Dam, but when the army of legionnaires led by the Courier, to whom she owed her very presence there, proved unstoppable, she was ultimately among its many casualties. Their advance was too sudden, too overwhelming, for a clean evacuation, and a grisly duel with a centurion trapped her near the front. Still, the Legion never took Ghost alive. She made sure of it.

House or Independent Victory: The arrival of the Securitrons at Hoover Dam was a surprise to every NCR trooper stationed there, including Ghost. Their sudden turn against the NCR, and their allegiance to the Courier, even more so. The triumph of vanquishing the Legion was short-lived, then, as Ghost joined the forced retreat, one pale face in a sea of many. 

Ghost is dead: Despite her name, there was no supernatural flourish when Ghost died. She simply died like a ranger, fighting to the end. That’s all that mattered.

(Bonus) Cass’s Ending Slide if the Courier frames her for the murder of Jackson:

Rose of Sharon Cassidy spent all of her time at the Mojave Outpost in a drunken stupor, which is why when Major Knight oversaw her arrest for the murder of Ranger Jackson, it took so long to get exonerated. By the time the alibi was pieced together and the evidence was admitted as circumstantial, the battle of Hoover Dam shifted NCR’s attention elsewhere, and the crime was never solved. For a few months in the clink, though, at least Cass got what she wanted: home, and finally away from the outpost.

[nubianamy]

35k, PG, Finn/Sam, pre-slash, pre-canon, camp, series, drama

from chapter 3

Every time Finn and Sam were around the campfire after that, Finn encouraged him to sing. Sometimes it was with Aggie’s borrowed guitar, and sometimes it was just him, without any accompaniment. Sam had a strong, melodic voice, and it didn’t really need the guitar, but Finn noticed he was louder and more confident when he was strumming along, and that was great to witness.

One evening, after most of the guys had gone back to their cabins and Finn and Sam were there tending the dying fire, Sam turned to him curiously. “How come you never sing by yourself? I mean, I would play anything you wanted to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” Finn shook his head perhaps a little too quickly, “that’s kind of the rule me and Puck have. Like, he’s the front man for the band, and I get to do the harmonies and stuff when we mess around.”

Sam seemed to accept that at face value, which suited Finn just fine, even if it involved throwing Puck under the bus with the implication that Puck had decided on the rule. When really, it was because whenever Finn had taken lead vocals, he’d managed to almost put the beater through the kick drum, he got so tense.

“The thing is, I can barely hear you when I’m singing,” Sam said, poking the fire with a long stick. “I’m kind of loud in my own ears, if you know what I mean. But what I can hear sounds really good.”

He smiled over his shoulder at Finn, not teasing, not waiting for Finn to say something, just because that was how Sam was. Being next to him, watching him smile like that, gave Finn courage. He took a deep breath. “I, uh… I used to sing all the time, when I was a kid. My mom had all these cassette tapes, and we’d play and sing in the kitchen and in the car. And she dated this guy, Darren. He always said I should be a singer when I grew up.”

“Sounds like he was really supportive.” Sam turned so he was facing Finn, digging the stick into the ground so he could lean against it, “What about your mom? Did she... not like it?” He quickly added, “I just... you don’t sing anymore, so I assume someone convinced you not to, or something.”

“Nobody,” Finn said, shrugging. “I mean, nobody in particular. You know how guys are. It just stopped being cool to do stuff like that. Like playing video games or reading comics. Me and Puck, we still do those things together, but… we don’t tell anybody? That would kind of be the death of our popularity, and Quinn, she thinks that’s really important.”

Sam nodded slowly, and in the darkness and the firelight it was hard to read much of his expression, “I guess people don’t do a lot of things they want to do. But, everyone here likes the singing. And I definitely do, and I like comic books and video games, so you already know I’m super lame.” He reached forward to nudge Finn’s knee with his fingers as Finn chuckled. “If you ever wanted to try with me, that’d be cool.”

“Try singing? I mean, we’ve done that lots.” Finn gave him a nervous smile. “Maybe if nobody else was around, I would. If it was just us.”

Sam looked down at the log they were sitting on for a long moment before he looked back and smiled, “I mean, Sean’s always sneaking over to the cheerleading camp, right? You come and get me when you’re ready, and I’m happy to listen.”

It didn’t happen that night, or the night after that, but Finn thought about Sam’s suggestion a lot, maybe more than he should have. It was running through his mind pretty much all the time when he wasn’t focusing on something else. Which, unfortunately, seemed to be during a lot of the practices.

“Hudson! Are you planning on running at any point this morning!” Coach Tyler yelled, and Finn picked up the pace as he quickly as he could until he was next to Sean again.

“Look, dude,” Sean looked around and gave Finn a pointed look, “You need to focus.”

“I’m trying—”

“No, your mind’s somewhere else,” Sean reached over and tapped the side of his head with the back of his hand. “Listen, I get it. You’re not finding this challenging. But the QB boat has sailed, and you need to be giving this your all, okay? Now... What can I do to get your mind off whatever it’s on, and back on these plays? Because we’ve got our second game coming up, and if Lucas loses to Sam’s team? He’s gonna be fucking insufferable.”

“Seriously, it’s nothing. It’s just something between me and Sam.” Finn shook his head, “We haven’t had time to really work it out—”

“Great. Me and Aggie are gonna go smoke weed in another cabin tonight. So, you and Sam can pick a room and hash this all out, before I lose my patience with you, dweeb.”

Finn watched as Sean moved away and was about to move himself when there was a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead. He winced, expecting to see Coach Tyler, but instead Lucas was looking at him with a very neutral expression. “You’re interested in being QB?”

“Kind of?” Finn tried to settle under Lucas’s gaze. He’d been friendly enough to him, but then he’d turn around and be terrible to Aggie. Finn didn’t trust him. “I mean, yeah, I’m interested, but… that’s your position, right? Yours and Sam’s?”

“It’s like saying the circus belongs to the ringmaster and the accordion-playing monkey,” Lucas rolled his eyes, and looked Finn up and down, “I’m not going to be playing next year, and I kind of like the idea of passing this on to someone. I mean, you’ve got shitty taste in friends, but...” He shrugged. “I’ll find you when I’m ready, Hudson.”

Finn watched him walk away, feeling much the same as he had when Darren told him he should be a singer. Seriously, if I had your voice, my group would still exist. Keep it up. He felt a shiver. It didn’t matter in that moment if Sam wanted to be QB or not. He pictured himself on the field, in the center of the team, calling the plays, catching the hike, passing the ball for the touchdown. It actually felt possible.

Maybe that was why, when Sam asked him at dinner, “So are we singing tonight by the fire?” Finn shook his head.

“Aggie and Sean are busy,” he said. “We can be alone in the cabin.”

“Oh.” Sam seemed to hesitate, causing the line of people waiting for food behind him to stop for a moment, before he quickly took a step forward again. “Yeah. Okay. Uh, your room or mine?”

“Whatever. Except our room has that chair with no arms. It might be easier for you to play guitar sitting there, instead of on the bed?”

“Isn’t that chair really uncomfortable?” Sam said, walking straight past the salad bar without stopping. “I mean, I’m fine with either. The chair sounds great. Just, if you want the bed instead, I can make that work.”

It turned out the evening was drizzly, anyway, so Finn didn’t feel so bad keeping Sam all to himself. Back in their cabin, however, Sam seemed restless, moving from one thing to another. Finn tried to give him space.

“You know, I think I’m going to go for a run,” Sam told him finally.

Finn raised an eyebrow as Sam stripped off his t-shirt. “In the rain?”

“Just a short one. It’ll make it easier for me to focus.” He backed toward the door in his undershirt. “I won’t be long.”

“You’re gonna get wet.” Finn said, but before he could try his argument for why Sam should sit down before he lost his nerve, Sam had vanished out of the door, his glasses abandoned on the side table. Finn stood by the door, watching Sam’s legs carry him around the lake trail until he was out of sight. Then he went through the bathroom into his and Sean’s room, dug his phone out of his jacket pocket, and dialed Puck’s number.

It went to voicemail once, but the second time Finn called, it clicked to life. “You have the worst timing, Hudson. I’m in the middle of something.” Puck sounded annoyed, but there was the sound of music playing softly in the background so he couldn’t be too busy, “Or, I mean, I’m about to be getting into something.”

“Dude, you could have let it go to—uh.” He laughed sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll be quick. What’s a song you and I sing together that’s really good? I mean, really, really good. One that shows off a little.”

“How about...” Puck trailed off, and there was a noise in the background that sounded almost like a groan.

Let's talk about sex, baby Let's talk about you and me Let's talk about all the good things And the bad things that may be

“Not that,” Finn protested. “Dude, I’m not trying to get in anybody’s pants. What the hell. I’m talking good singing.”

“Why’re you singing to someone if you don’t want to get in their pants?” Puck scoffed. “Can I offer...”

Come out Virginia, don't let 'em wait You Catholic girls start much too late Aw but sooner or later it comes down to faith Oh I might as well be the one

Finn flung himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “No, no, Billy Joel is your range, not mine. Something higher.”

“So much for being quick about it. Sounds like the rumors about you aren’t exactly accurate.” He could hear a scuffling noise, and shushing and snorts of muffled laughter.

“Dude, who’s there with you?” Finn said suspiciously.

“Oh, this big, handsome, burly right guard. Yeah, we’re going at it pretty hot and heavy right now.” Puck sounded almost bored. “And, oh, yeah, there’s Mr. Ryerson coming through the door.”

“You really know how to make everything gross,” Finn said, grinning. “Okay, well, if you can’t think of anything, I’m going to have to default to Journey.”

“Do that Steve Perry single, the one from Straight Talk.” Puck hummed the chorus, and Finn sat up. “Can I hang up on you now, or do you have more stupid questions?”

“No, I think I’m good. Have fun… whatever you’re doing.”

“Looks like I might be doing some singing, actually.” Puck sounded amused. He added, to whoever was there, “You’re serious? Right now?”

Finn laughed. “I’m out of here. Whoever she is, good luck.”

He had to look up the lyrics to the song on his phone, not because he hadn’t sung it eight thousand times, but because he was sure he had been singing some of them wrong for years. Somehow it seemed important to get the lyrics right when he was singing for somebody else. Not that he was singing to Sam, or anything like that.

Actually, now that he was reading the lyrics, Finn decided he might want to have second thoughts about singing this particular song. It wasn’t because it was a love song, but it was kind of sad, and not exactly upbeat. But it was too late to call Puck back, and he wasn’t going to pick something else now.

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs outside, and Finn sat up on the bed quickly, his phone almost bouncing on the mattress as it slipped from his hand. He had begun to swing his legs off, but the door opened with a very loud noise, and Sam stepped in, shaking out his hair.

“Paul wanted us to know that the hose for the sprinkler system is working again,” he said dryly, barely looking as he pulled at his undershirt that was soaked to his skin. “It came off and sprayed me, but he, very heroically...” he trailed off, his eyes finally falling on Finn who was resting back on his hands, his legs splayed wide. “Uh... are you... waiting for someone?”

“Me? No.” Finn straightened up, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He rose to his feet, tripping over his shoes a little. “Who would I be… um. Can I get you, like, a towel or something?”

“I should get to the bathroom,” Sam gestured but his shoes squelched as he took a step, and Finn quickly shook his head.

“No way, you need to lose the shirt at least, man, before you get sick. You can borrow one of mine until you go next door.” He grabbed one of his big, comfy McKinley High athletics shirts from his drawer and held it out. “Just—sit there and take off your shoes. I’ll get you that towel.”

He ducked into the bathroom. The towels on the rack both smelled like feet, so he rummaged in the shelf above the sink until he found a clean one. It was a worn towel from Six Flags, the one with the picture of the roller coaster on it.

Finn brought it back into his room where Sam was sitting on the floor in a puddle, his soaking-wet undershirt in a pile next to one of his shoes. He was struggling to get the other one off. When Finn snickered, he shot him an exasperated look.

“It’s really hard to untie wet shoelaces,” he protested.

“Hey, I’m not saying anything,” Finn held up his hands with a grin.

He exchanged Sam’s wet undershirt for the dry towel, then took the shirt into the bathroom to drip dry. He couldn’t help but pause in the doorway, though, and glance back at Sam, who was contorting himself trying to get a better angle on the lace, until his foot was nearly over his head, as he got more and more frustrated.

“Here.” Finn knelt on the floor next to him, gesturing for Sam to put his foot back on the floor. “You’re just making it hard for yourself. Let me.”

Sam looked very unsure about this, but he let Finn tug at the heel of his shoe until it finally slid off his foot with a sloppy sound. It made them both snicker. When Finn presented him with the shoe, like it was a priceless gift, Sam laughed harder.

“Thanks.” Sam rolled his eyes. “For the towel, too. It’s been a pretty crappy evening so far. Maybe... I should just turn in.”

“You think it’s going to get any better if Aggie gets home and sees you’re asleep?” Finn joked lightly, “I bet he’d put your hand in warm water just on principle. Come on, why don’t we just... hang out. I’ve got this dumb book I’m supposed to read for my classes next year, I’m sure you could do some sketching or something, right?”

That made Sam brighten a little. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get comfortable, but the separate beds felt like way too far away to Finn’s mind. He pulled the blanket off the bed, and made himself a little half-nest on the ground, his back to the drawers. Sam spread out on the mattress, not physically, but between the sketchpad, a small pile of comic books, and the guitar resting against the headboard, there wasn’t a lot of space there.

The book was very boring, but listening to the sound of Sam’s pencil skritching away on the paper was strangely relaxing.

It wasn’t until the third time that he lifted his hand to his nose, and Sam hummed in a mildly negative way, that he turned to look. Sam finished with a line, and then looked back towards Finn and froze. Finn offered a small smile, “You doing all right?”

“Yeah, I was just...” Sam glanced at the sketchbook on his lap and then back to Finn. “Art, you know?”

“Are you drawing me?” Finn couldn’t help but ask, his chest feeling strangely warm. Sam looked mildly horrified, but after a beat he slowly nodded. “Can I see?” Finn continued, and that got a sharp negative. Finn tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because... it’s embarrassing.” Sam shrugged, “And private. And you were supposed to sing, and you didn’t, so I’m holding my art ransom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Finn felt his smile broaden. “Does that mean you would show me if I sang something?”

Sam glanced back at the sketchbook and then back to him, “It’s honestly not that good. I mean, I really want to hear you sing, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if you’re expecting the Mona Lisa or something.”

“Dude,” Finn said softly. “There is literally no way I would be disappointed by you, Sam. Ever.”

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