#.i think the first photo has a new angle for me so onto the tumblr it goes !!

[oscahpitlane]

[bogkeep]

theo’s tarot collection

hi hello i suffer from a terrible ailment called I Keep Acquiring New Tarot Decks Even Though I Am A Tarot Newbie.... so i figured i could do a little writeup about my decks if anyone is interested in that :’) basically i started doing tarot in 2019 because i couldn’t get a hold of a therapist (i was put on a year long waitlist WAHOO) so i basically. self-medicated with tarot readings hahaha. i had a friend who gave me a lot of really good advice and had done some readings for me before who felt immensely comforting. the way i read them is like... it allows you to confront your situation and your emotions through a new angle, but you gotta be brave enough to do it - or ask someone to do it for you. it can be a really intense but also cathartic experience. it’s not for everyone! but i like it. i still consider myself a novice and still learning so i am not in ANY way trying to paint myself as a Knowledgabl Tarot Witch - in a perfect timeline that’s who i wish i was, but i’m ultimately just some guy with a solid appreciation for art and personal growth.

ANYWAY... onto my DECKS (the tumblr post will probably squish the quality outta my photos so i’m gonna link the URLs for Full View)

Children of Litha by Alexandria Huntington

i consider this my main and first deck (i am NOT counting the official homestuck deck i bought as a teen just because i wanted to look at the art. no offense to the homestuck deck i’m just not gonna use fandom decks)! i picked it out but my Tarot Friend gifted it to me... i think it’s a very good starter deck for me personally, and it’s the deck i’ve bonded with and used the most. i even put a fancy sticker on the box as part of the bonding process. i always feel so bad for all of my other decks because i haven’t been able to dedicate as much time for them as i have this one... so it’s definitely the deck i go to for the most accurate readings for myself. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: the art in this is so beautiful and elegant. the symbolism more or less draws on the classic smith-waite deck, but redrawn for its theme. i like that it has a very consistent imagery! out of the major arcana, the fool is the only fully human character - every other character is part animal in some way or other. then the suit of swords depicts birds, winged insects and the air element, coins depict ungulates and equines and earth, wands has felines and canines and fiery imagery, and cups has fish and creatures of and in the sea. the court cards have humans. the suit symbols are always depicted consistently, as white silhouettes. there are also two extra cards: the all and the void. Pamphlet: the reason i think this was a good starter deck is because both because the art feels very intuitive about what it depicts (to me, at least), the descriptions in the pamphlet describe what is happening and why the artist chose this motif for this card. it has honestly helped me remember the meanings a lot, because i’ll be reading the other decks and be like “oh that’s the octopus card i know what the octopus card is about”. there are also little poems next to the main descriptions that work as a pretty solid tl;dr for the core meanings. i also like that the court cards are referred to in the sense of like... a knight is “a young person with masculine energy” rather than “a young man”. it feels more fluid and vibe-y about gender than traditional decks ya feel. on a range from Abstract to Directness this one feels like it sits pretty comfortable in the middle, maybe leaning on Abstractness. it has always given me gentle instructions and advice.

Cardfeel: the cards are very smooth and nice with gold edges. the cards are not NOT solid, but i wish they had been a little thicker because i’m always afraid i’m going to accidentally damage them - but that’s probably a feeling i have about most of my possessions tbh!! i think they’re a good size, too, at least for my small hands. they’re more on the long/slender side so they are good for me to shuffle. i also like the box, it’s a hard flip box with a magnet. i think u can’t go wrong with that. this is the deck i’ve travelled with the most (did u know hotel beds are the best tarot reading spaces. for some reason they just Work). The Spacious Tarot by Annie Ruygt and Carrie Mallon

this is one i really like a lot and want to use more! i absolutely adore the concept of it, but it’s a little harder for me to read than the Litha one. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: this one is like!!! it’s about the open space and the quietness. the vibes are IMMACULATE. the cards aren’t filled to the brim with happenstance and symbolism, but they each feel like a little refuge. very meditative. i also like that the court cards are not gendered at all - there is no page, knight, queen and king, but rather child, explorer, guardian and elder. i am really into that, especially as steps of mastery of their suit. i do think that this deck is probably easier to read if you’re more experienced with tarot meanings and symbolisms, because the illustrations aren’t necessarily that intuitive. Pamphlet: i haven’t read through this one very much, but i think it’s more on the abstract side of the Abstract to Direct scale. it might just feel like that because it describes what the card symbolizes without drawing much on what the card depicts - it is generally a pretty abstract and meditative deck. i like it for what it is! but it’s harder for me to read than my main Litha deck. Cardfeel: there’s something about the cardfeel i wish was different. they’re perfectly ok cards, they’re smooth and not too thin, but i still wish they had had more heft or something. while the cards fit very well into my hands i think maybe they could’ve been Larger to emphasize their motifs of openness and space. or texture. or gilded edges. i really don’t know what i want. the box however is very good and easy to open and use!! never underestimate a good box.

Tarot of the Divine by Yoshi Toshitani

this is a deck i Had To Get because i knew the artist was working on it and i was always Planning To... it is not a deck i use very often but i absolutey adore it. you can also get it with an accompanying fairytale book, i thought i had ordered that but i was Wronge. Vibes and Thematic Coherency: it depicts motifs and characters from stories, myths, and fairytales from a vast variety of cultures. it’s AMAZING. the art is so clean and crisp and i was VERY EXCITED to find a card drawing on a sami story (page of coins)! i don’t have a lot to say except that yoshi yoshitani has done some incredible work on this. Pamphlet: while i do not have the Fairytale Book edition, the pamphlet is really super nice because it shows pictures of the cards, lists what story it depicts and where the story is from, gives a short description for how this scene or character embodies the card. it then lists some of the Card Characteristics beneath. very simple but very nice. i really like pamphlets that explain Why the artist picked the motifs they did - for me personally it really helps me connect to the deck and their symbols. it’s probably more on the Direct side of the scale thanks to this. Cardfeel: these are textured!! they feel like the playing card deck my grandmother has, which feels apt to me. textures make the cards feel solid to me. they’re also a very nice size to hold. the edges are not guilded, but with the white frames it looks good and nice. the box is nice but also Large, possibly to fit with the book? might not be ideal for travel, but there’s nothing stopping you from getting a different box or pouch.

The Star Spinner Tarot by Trung Le Nguyen

my most recent deck... i KNEW about the artist and the deck from before, but wasn’t PLANNING to get it, but then i saw it in the comic book store and i wasn’t able to pass it by. no regrets, it’s a wonderful deck. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: absolutely lovely art and style. it’s another deck drawing on fairytale themed motifs. i’m loving the use of colors and circles. it also has four different cards for the Lovers so you can choose which one(s) speak to you the most, something i think is just wonderful. i think the only thing i found a little... odd? was that the suit of Wands looks kinda same-y, which isn’t a bad thing, but it was the only suit that looked that way to me. they’re still very very nice. ALSO THE BACK OF THE CARDS ARE SHINY. I JUST THINK THAT’S VERY LOVELY. as a Physical Product these are chef’s kiss. Pamphlet: on the Abstract to Directness scale, these are VERY DIRECT. the pamphlet doesn’t say a lot about why the cards depict what they do, but go straight into card meaning, and in a very unambiguous way. i think it can both work very well, leaving you little room to avoid your feelings, but it also has a higher margin to miss completely. for being such a cutesy deck full of fairies the pamphlet is definitely giving you a smack at the side of your head. i haven’t used this deck a lot yet due to its newness, but i definitely want to try it out more to see what it does to me.

Cardfeel: out of all of my decks i think this has the best cardfeel... the cards feel really solid, and have a very good size that feel just right for them. like i sort of fell in love with the deck when i actually started shuffling it and browsing the cards. buying cards - especially on the internet - can be a gamble because you Can’t Know The Cardfeel. with decks like the Spacious Tarot i got a little dissappointed, but this one was a very pleasant surprise. also the box is very good and look like a work of art. The Fyodor Pavlov Tarot

honestly one of my new favourite decks that i ABSOLUTELY am going to use more and become more familiar with. also a deck that i knew the artist was working on, and supported the kickstarter the moment it was announced. my deck also came with two Magician cards and i don’t know why. extra wizard for me??? Vibes and Thematic Coherence: the look and feel of this deck is Immaculate. it looks very classical and traditional (and absolutely gorgeous), it is grounded in the classical smith-waite imagery but Expands Upon It, draws on the diversity of human culture and experiences... also loving the energy of “THIS CARD IS TRANS NOW AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT” many cards have (most famously the Lovers, but i don’t want to post pics of any of the cards depicting nudity or risqué themes on tumblr). i absolutely adore the knight of coins card (THE HORSE IS HIS FRIEND AND SERVICE ANIMAL!!). it’s just Really Very Good. also the backside has pretty Shiny stars and i like it. Pamphlet: i really like this one. it is a deeply personal pamphlet, where fyodor pavlov directly discusses his relationship to the cards and why he chose the motifs he did. it feels really grounded in the world we live in, and also such a vulnerable thing to share with us all. it’s on the Direct side of the scale without necessarily telling you “the card is definitely this one thing”. my only wish is that it was easier to navigate at a glance. Cardfeel: THEY ARE TEXTURED!!! these cards are definitely long and slender and benefit someone with larger hands than mine, but i still like them a lot. i do wish they had been a smidge heavier just so i wouldn’t worry so much about damaging them... but i don’t want to be ungrateful. the deck and the box are wonderfully crafted. The Botanica Tarot by Kevin Jay Stanton

oh boy did i support the kickstarter for this one... i had actually bought the major arcana when it was the only version available, and then the artist decided to make a full deck. it’s an absolute work of art. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: oh boy oh boy does it serve vibes and thematic coherence. it’s Plants all the way down, OBVIOUSLY, but also like... every card in the minor arcana depicts their suit in its own way. like the range of coins/currency from various times and cultures?? AMAZING. looking at the art of this deck is a DELIGHT. every card manages to be beautiful and interesting despite there not being a single living creature depicted on any of them. i WILL say they, same as the spacious tarot, are not the most intuitive to read if you’re not super familiar with either the Plants or the meanings of the cards. Pamphlet: you can fit so much plant knowledge in this one. i got a version of the deck with a beautiful little book, but there’s also a small pamphlet that follows the deck itself (which i admittedly have not looked too closely at yet). there’s descriptions for why this specific plant has been chosen for each card, and then some Card Meaning Keywords. so definitely on the Abstract side of my imaginary tarot pamphlet scale, because you mostly have plant symbolism to go on. i haven’t done a lot of readings with this deck, i’ll be honest - but it’s a beautiful treasure that i adore. Cardfeel: they’re Smoothe and Guilded edges. they can feel a little wide for my hands, but not so much that i cannot shuffle. i think maybe a smidge of texture wouldve been good with this deck since it would fit the look of the painted art. i also did get like... a big kickstarter reward version of this deck. it came in a tin box with extra treasures and a cloth and pins... the actual card box itself is beautiful to look at, but i have to say that the one i got is VERY HARD TO OPEN. i might transfer the cards into a pouch if i want to be reading them more often. IKEA deck

yes this is a meme deck and i don’t really use it but I WANTED TO SHARE... i think the major arcana is very cool and funny, but i was dissappointed to find that the suit cards are just “ikea part but Multiple Times”. it also does not come with a pamphlet. also yes yes it’s funny that the names of the cards are spelled in a “silly ikea word language” BUT IKEA NAMES ARE JUST SWEDISH....... IT’S NOT A SECRET LANGUAGE IT’S JUST SWEDISH............ it’s a funny deck to have and it doesn’t take up much space so eh! shrugs!!! The Lubanko Tarot by Emily Lubanko

another kickstarter deck... it’s gorgeous but there is a chance i might gift it to someone else. not because i regret getting it or don’t like it, but because i already have so many decks that speak to me, while this one gives me vibes of serving someone else better. does that make any sense? i admittedly haven’t looked at the pamplet so much so i think i’m going to skip that description for this one. Vibes and Thematic Coherency: the MOVEMENT and the COLORS... it’s Capturing Feelings in a really good way. i mean. i got it for the vibes and it’s serving vibes. Cardfeel: Smoothe Cards. shiny silver edges, like a slippery fish in a rapid river. it feels good and right for this deck. also good box. i know most of these decks have Good Box, it’s just the botanica one that let me down by being difficult. The Oriens Tarot by AmbiSun

i don’t have this deck anymore, i gifted it to my boyfriend... i found these pics on my twitter. it’s one of the first decks i supported on kickstarter and it’s VERY pretty, and it has HOLOGRAPHIC RAINBOW EDGES HOT DAMN. it’s another one of those instances where i Yearned for it and then found that it didn’t fit me as well as i had hoped. tarot is just one of those things where you have to find what Works for you. at this time the children of litha was working so well for me and i really liked the depiction of animals in it, i wasn’t able to connect to another animal deck in the same way... and it was before my tarot collection snowballed into what i have now. C’EST LA VIE ... i don’t have a smith-waite deck. i’m a fake tarot fan. i am however familiarizing myself by following Jessica Dore on twitter and subscribing to her monthly newsletters. i really love how she talks about these cards and how she interprets them.

[poc-movie-supremacy]

I’m coming home to you

Christopher wanted to see his Buck today and who was Eddie to refuse? They picked up Buck for a nice day at the pier. When things go from great to catastrophic, will Eddie reunite with Buck and Christopher. Based off this tumblr post by @sexyapplemilk

This story is for @sexyapplemilk/ @fandom-101 @its-like-looking-in-3d

Thank you to @not-falling-but-flying for reading over this long long fic!

I hope you guys like it!

----

Eddie and Buck had the same day off. Well Eddie had the day off and Buck didn’t have work but potato potatoe. It was Saturday so Chris didn’t have school today either. 

Eddie was sitting across from Chris at the breakfast table munching their way through breakfast. It had been a quiet morning so far, Chris was lost in his own thoughts. Eddie wondered if his kid was planning anything, but decided not to put much thought into it. 

“Daddy can we see Bucky today?” The question made Eddie cock his eyebrow. He knew that Buck had been wallowing in his bed for the past few days after he got the news he couldn’t go back to work just yet. Part of him didn’t want to disturb the younger man, but the other part of him figured this could be good for Buck. Also he can’t say no to his kid. 

“Let me ask him if he’s free.” Eddie will probably come over anyways, Buck can’t get mad at him, he had Chris. “Finish your breakfast first though mijo.” Chris shouts in joy and resumes eating his breakfast, bagel with fruits cause eddie can’t mess that up, with renewed rigour. Eddie smiles fondly at his kid while he takes a bit of fruit. 

Eddie made Chris finish getting ready for the day. They had to do Chris’s PT, get changed, fix their hair. Eddie combed his hair back, put on a nice white shirt and a plaid button up, jeans, and some sneakers. Chris put on a yellow stripped shirt and blue pants. He waited impatiently for his dad by the door. Eddie chuckled, unlocked the door then walked with his kid to the car. “What do you want to do for today Chris?”

“We can color or Bucky says he got a new video game!”

“You don’t want to go outside?” 

Chris looks at his dad curiously. Eddie helps him into the car then doubling back to get into the drivers seat. He starts the car and starts to drive. “What could we do outside?” 

“You could go to the park, play on the play structure?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Bucky can’t fit on it though, I know, we’ve tried.” Eddie laughs out loud at that. The idea of Buck trying to fit into a play structure is way too amusing. 

“Well okay then, no park, we could… go to the laser tag?”

“I promised I’d go with Denny next week though.”

“Hmmm yea we gotta keep our promises don’t we?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well maybe Buck will have better ideas huh?”

“Bucky has the best ideas!” 

---

They get up to Buck’s apartment and Eddie doesn’t knock, instead he just lets himself in. The apartment is eerily quiet and Eddie wonders if Buck wasn’t home. “Buck, Hey Buck me and Chris are here to hang out.” He looks around the apartment for any signs of his best friend. 

“Daddy look.” Chris points up to the loft to the mass on the bed.

Eddie smiles proudly at his kid. “Good job mijo. Go sit in the living room while I go rouse Buck.”

“Can I watch tv?”

“Sure kid.”

Eddie sets Chris up in the living room before heading up to Buck. The bedroom is a bit messy, loose clothes strung everywhere. The blinds are closed and all the lights are off. Any evidence Buck is here is the gigantic mass on the bed. Eddie frowns in worry, before getting to work. He opens up all the blinds and repeatedly pulled the covers off of Buck to force him to get up.

“Dude I have nothing to do today.”

“Nope, you're taking me and Chris, more importantly Chris, somewhere today. Heads up, he’s vetoed the park and laser tag and he’s downstairs. Get changed and start thinking of places to go. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Buck looks at him incredulously. “Eddie, you can’t cook.”

“Yea it’ll probably be toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but food is food and you need to eat.”

Eddie watches Buck calmly. Anger, confusion, acceptance and happiness flit across his face. He gives Eddie a smile before turning around. “Okay Eddie. Anything for my favorite Diaz.”

Eddie knows he means Chris, he still leaves the loft with a small smile.

---

The Diaz’s make Buck a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some strawberries Eddie found in Buck’s fridge. Buck’s in a white shirt and a plain pink button up. His hair is slightly gelled up and any trace of sadness was gone from his eyes. Happily he let Chris pull him to the kitchen table. “Wow this all looks so good buddy, did you make it?”

Chris beamed. “No Dad helped a bit.”

“You coulda convinced me otherwise.” 

Chris giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes, “I cut up the strawberries.” Buck made a small noise of understanding before starting to eat. Chris quietly colored beside him. Occasionally he stole Buck’s strawberries. If Buck cared he didn’t comment on it.

“So have you picked where we’re going Buck?” Eddie asked.

“Yes actually, May’s been talking about visiting the Pier with her friends and I figured  if it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for us right? You wanna go to the pier buddy?”

“What’s on the pier?”

Buck’s face lit up in a blinding smile. Quickly he starts listing off all the unhealthy snacks sold at the pier. Eddie shakes his head and mock glares at Buck, but he only gets a cheeky grin in response. 

“You’re going to give him such a sugar high. Ugh, if you want to do this you have to put him to bed tonight.”

“You’re going to stay with us for the whole day?!” Chris smile could put the sun to shame. He looked eagerly between his father and his Buck.

“Sure Buddy if that’s what you want.” Chris nodded his head so fast he looked like a bobble head. 

Buck chuckled, “Okay buddy, I’ll hop you up on sugar then have the pleasure of tucking you in.” Buck sent Eddie a teasing smile, only to receive an eye roll in response. 

Once Buck finishes his food, the boys head for Buck’s jeep. They could’ve ridden in Eddie’s truck, but Buck likes driving more than Eddie. Chris’s car seat is transferred to the back of Buck’s jeep and they all pile in. Some top 40s song blares from the radio as they head to their destination. 

The wind feels nice in Eddie’s hair. He stares out the window as he listens to Chris and Buck have an animated conversation. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention to it, but it still sounds nice, his son and best friend being happy.  

“Will you ride with us Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“The bumper cars? Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?”

“Oh why not. You sure though, I’ll kick your butt.”

Buck squacks offendedly. “As if, I’m a pro at bumper cars Diaz. In fact I should be asking if you’re okay going against me.” Buck flashes him a cocky smile and Eddie gives him a deadpan stare. He’s impossible yet so endearing. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate it, any of it for a second. 

----

Going to the pier, Eddie will admit, was a very good choice. The smell of fried food and the noise of the amusement park rides was relaxing. It felt like being back at the state fairs in Texas. Buck and Chris dragged him along to every ride and Eddie went willingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun. 

Eventually they tired down. Eddie was sitting on a bench next to Buck with a frankly gigantic brown bear on his lap. Chris is watching the surfers surf the waves down below with Buck holding onto his shirt. Eddie let himself relax after spending a whole day running after a child and a golden retriever. When Chris comforted Buck, Eddie snuck a photo of the moment. Buck was smiling sadly up at Chris while Chris held Buck’s chin in his hand. It was so sweet Eddie could’ve gotten a toothache.

He went about saving the photo when Chris started talking again. “Where did all the water go?”

---

So there was a Tsunami in California, and Eddie was in the middle of it. He really can’t have nice things. Immediately Buck grabbed Chris and together they started running off the pier. Man can’t outrun nature though and they were barely halfway across the pier when they got swept away.

---

Buck tightened his hold on Chris as he felt the water slap them around. As much as he wanted to keep Chris with him, he wasn’t stronger than the water. Eventually Buck felt Chris get torn away from him. Debris the tsunami picked up hurtled toward him. He could feel little nicks appear on his arms and legs. 

When he finally broke through the surface, he spotted Chris clinging to a pole twenty feet in front of him. Carefully he angled his body so the water would take him to Chris. When he got close enough he leaped and wrapped his arms around Chris. With the same intensity, Chris clung to Buck tightly. It was nice to have proof that Chris was safe. After hearing the little guy cry out for him and Eddie, he wasn’t letting Chris go anytime soon. 

For a while the duo was at the mercy of the water, but when Buck spotted a half submerged fire truck, he used his reserved energy to swim towards it. Once there, he lifted Chris onto it and then lifted himself onto it. The whole act hurt his leg, but Buck didn’t voice his pain. Quietly he breathed a sigh of relief. The open air stung his fresh cuts and his soaked clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Chris climbed into his lap and rested his head on Buck’s chest.

“Bucky, where’s my dad?”

Buck sighed, not wanted or knowing how to answer this question. “It appears that we got separated when the wave hit, but that can’t be permanent right buddy? When the water recedes we’ll go search for him okay?” Silently Chris nodded. Buck carded his hand through his curls and let his head gently hit against the truck. He breathed deeply once before getting into action.

“Hey superman, can I give you a quick check-up? I wanna make sure you aren’t too injured.” Chris nodded and Buck went about a modified version of the paramedic check up. (He’s been around Hen and Chimney to know it by heart. He also is a certified EMT.)

“You’re all healthy, kid, just a few cuts but that’s okay. Pretty amazing, I need to know your secrets.” Buck poked Chris’s cheek to make him giggle. He succeeded.

“I had you. You saved me.”

---

Somewhere along the way Eddie got separated. In the water he tried to reach for Chris or Buck, but his hand kept getting smacked by debriefs. He did it enough times that he was sure his wrist was sprained. 

When he finally broke free from the waves he couldn’t tell where he was. There were string lights hanging above him and a row of nondescript red buildings. Eddie let himself be dragged along with the waves while he thought of something to do. Buck and Chris weren’t beside him, making him officially alone. He hoped they were still together, the thought of all three of them trying to survive this on their own was enough to puke. 

He clutched onto his St. Christopher’s medal as he searched for someplace to grab onto.  There were inflatable toys, scraps of metal, and spare tires; but nothing safe to actually hold onto. Eddie tries to groan in frustration, but he ends up swallowing a mouthful of water instead. 

After another half-hour he finally sees an awning of a restaurant. He makes his way over and lies down on the awning. He breathes in deeply and lets out a slow breath. He’s safe. He’s safe and alive and all alone. Dread tries to settle in his stomach at the thought of his son. He knows he can’t think like this, but god it’s so easy too. He can only hope that Buck is with Chris, Buck will keep Chris safe. 

--- 

When the water finally recedes, Buck climbs down the truck. The nice lady, Mrs. Violet, hands Buck Chris before climbing down herself. “Stay safe you two. Good bye.” Chris waves goodbye and Buck gives her a megawatt smile. She’s nice company while they were stuck on the truck. Buck hopes they find their husband. He waits to make sure everyone else gets down safely too. 

The winds from earlier have died down. The warmth from the midday sun beaming down on him feels nice. His clothes have dried into uncomfortable messes, but it’s fine. He gave his pink button to use a tourniquet for a man with a bloody arm. 

Chris tightens his hold on Buck, shifts around to get comfortable, then goes lax in his arms. “You don’t want to be let down buddy?” Chris shakes his head. Buck hmmed in acquiescence . 

As an eight year old, Chris is hesitant to let people hold him. He says he’s too old for it now. The first time it happened Eddie called Buck to drink with him. Buck agreed and listened as Eddie complained at how big his kid was getting. The fact that Chris was willing to be held right now meant that he was more scared than he appeared. It made Buck worry and want Eddie. He shouldn’t be here, Eddie needs to be here to console his kid. 

Buck hiked up Chris further up his hip then started walking. He didn’t know which way he should go, just hoped wherever he went would lead him to Eddie. 

---

Eddie fell asleep. He fell asleep on top of the awning waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t a great sleep, he kept seeing Christopher get torn away from him. Eddie shocked himself awake and took stock of his surroundings. The water was gone, leaving in its wake the debris it swept away. Also dead bodies. If Eddie had anything to puke up he’d be hurling. 

Okay, okay, you can’t stay here. You gotta go find your kid. How… Eddie thought. Call someone? Call Buck! Or Bobby or Carla! Hope invigorated him to pull his phone out despite the fact that his wrist was definitely broken. Hope left him when he saw his completely waterlogged phone. Okay Plan A was bust on to Plan B… whatever that was. 

The awning was connected to a pole that he could climb down. Best way to find his kid and his best friend was to look for them. Slowly he made his way to an edge of an awning. Then he edged himself off the edge slowly and feet first. Eddie wrapped his feet around the pole and shimmied down. 

There were a few stranglers around him, similarly confused and lost. He tried asking them if they’d seen his lost kid or best friend. Unhelpfully they shook their heads no. Eddie sighed and continued walking. 

----

Buck’s arms were on fire. His leg was also on fire. He’s pretty sure he was also bleeding something… not good. Holding Chris and walking around for hours in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to him. Buck was still searching for Eddie or a hospital. Finding Eddie was better than finding a hospital, but at this point he’d take either.   

Technically he had found two hospitals already, but they were filled to the brink. The wait was astronomical and there was no place to sit. And there was no Eddie. He let a nurse check Chris out and give them some supplies, water and granola bars, before heading out. In hindsight he should’ve also asked for a phone to call someone but he forgot. 

Chris had long since passed out in his arms. The kid's soft breaths on his necks was very reassuring. It was part of the reason Buck didn’t want to let him down. Another reason was because he wanted to physically pass Chris off to Eddie. Who is fine. He’s healthy and fit and able to carry his kid when Buck finds him. ‘Cause he will find him, Buck can’t not find him.

Chris shifting in his arm brought Buck back to the present. “Bucky? Bucky, I'm tired.”

“I know superman, you’re okay. I heard there's a new hospital a few blocks from here. They’ll be able to help us.”

“Okay Bucky. Can I have ice cream when we get there?”

“We deserve it don’t we? Still need to ask your dad though buddy.”

“Why? He’s not the boss of you?”

“This is a trick.”

--- 

After searching for Buck and Chris for five hours (and getting nowhere his evil mind adds) he’s starting to lose hope he can find them on his own. No one has seen a tall man in a pink button up nor a little boy in a yellow striped shirt. Eddie’s poor heart doesn’t know whether or not to implode at that. By now the sun has started setting. The winds aren’t as refreshing as they once were. 

As he made his way down another debris filled street, two first responders found him. Eddie resists their attempts at checking him over for any injuries at first. He needs to find his partner and his kid, but he’s also tired. The first responders seem to pick up on this. They promise him that they’ll help him find his kid and partner if he just cooperates. This is how they cajoole him into going to a hospital. With promises of phone calls to his kid and a message passed around to the other first responders that Firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118 is looking for his partner Evan Buckley and his son Chris Diaz. 

This satisfies Eddie a great deal and he then becomes a much better patient. (He’s still grumpy and aloof, but now he’s tolerant). He’s almost fine, acquired a cut on his right arm, broke his left wrist, is dehydrated and exhausted. One of the first responders tosses him a bottle of water on the way to their destination. Eddie finds out when they arrive that it’s a VA hospital set up specifically as a halfway point for the sick and wounded. 

The first responders usher him in through the door and into the hands of a nurse. They describe his injuries, and tell her about his missing family. He’d correct them but the statement doesn’t feel wrong anyways. The nurse takes him to a free cot before giving him a check up too. 

The first responders hit the nail on the head with his list of injuries. Since it’s not severe he doesn’t need to be transported to the hospital right away, although it is recommended. She leaves to go get him pain meds and once again, Eddie is alone. The people in the cots beside him don’t count. Hell one’s unconscious and the other one is having an intimate looking conversion with a loved one. There are tears, Eddie looks away.

To keep himself busy Eddie makes a to do list of what he needs to do next. Find Christopher. Give him a big hug. Give Buck a big hug. Sleep. Tell people he’s okay. Buy a new phone. Buy ice cream. The last one isn’t technically an emergency but forgive him he’s in pain. 

The nurse comes back with a wrap for his wrist and disinfectant and band aids. He finishes his water while she works. The nurse tells him he’s lucky his wound isn’t infected. Eddie nods, mind focused on something else.

“This is awkward, but my phone got damaged in the tsunami and I need to tell some people I’m okay. Is it alright if I borrow your phone and make some calls?” 

The nurse smiles and nodds. She gets out her iphone, unlocks it and gets out the phone app. Eddie takes it gingerly and thinks of who to call first. His parents? Ha. He could call his sisters, but if they don’t know then he didn’t want to worry them. He’d call Tia Pepa but she’s probably with Abuela already so calling Abuela’s home phone is the best bet. 

She’s calm if not incredibly saddened when she picks up the phone. Abuela  lets out a fast stream of spanish that’s said through tears once she realizes its him. He waits patiently for her to finish talking before reassuring her she’s fine. Eddie wants to tell her about Christopher, but he’s worried about Abuela having a heart attack so instead he promises to bring Chris over for lunch tomorrow. He then talks to Tia Pepa for a bit, but there’s not much new to say because Abuela had the phone call on speaker. She thanks god that he’s okay and that he better see her as soon as possible.

When they hang up he immediately calls Bobby. As he waits for him to pick up the phone he gives the nurse a sheepish smile and promises that this is the last call. 

“Hello Bobby Nash, who is this?”

“Bobby? It’s Eddie, listen, my phone got damaged in the tsunami. Buck, Chris and I were at the pier and I can’t find them anymore Bobby.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, you need to breathe. Okay breathe.” Eddie rubs his hand over his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

“Okay Where are you right now.”

“The new VA hospital they set up.”

“Okay I know where that is. I’m going to send out a message to keep an eye out for Buck and Christopher. I’ll also ask Maddie to start calling the hospitals to see if they have Buck. We’re going to find them okay Eddie. Buck’s a fighter, we’re going to find him and Chris.”

“I know Cap it’s just-.”

“Hey Hey, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for this. Stay there at the hospital so we know where to send Buck and Chris when we find them.”

“Yeah okay, okay, okay.” 

“Okay, are you okay?”

“Umm yeah I’m fine, shallow cut and sprained wrist. I’m fine Cap, it's Buck and Chris.”

“I know that, but I worry about you too. I gotta go, they need me, but take care of yourself okay? Stay safe?”

“Yes sir.” Bobby hung up and Eddie gave the nurse back her phone. 

The nurse left almost immediately to tend to other patients. Eddie took a deep breath before taking the next step. He knew someone had to have a list of patients at this hospital somewhere, he just had to figure out who. Eddie got up from his cot to start looking around. 

The first few people were a bust. Lady #1 was actually a nurse who just finished tending to a patient. Man #2 was actually an off duty first responder helping out. Lady and Man #3 and #4 were family of some of the victims of the tsumai. Eddie was starting to get frustrated. He needed to find his son and partner quickly. The longer they were out there the more Eddie’s insides turned into knots. 

He walked forward towards the entrance and saw a woman with a clipboard. “Hello ma’am is that a list of patients for the VA hospital?”

The woman turned toward him and smiled politely. “Yes it is. Who are you looking for?”

“My son Christopher Diaz. He’s 8 years old and about 4 feet 5 inches tall. He was wearing a yellow striped shirt and khakis. I’m also looking for my partner Evan Buckley. Late twenties 6’2’’ wearing a pink button up, white shirt and some jeans. He has an identifiable birth mark on his right eyebrow that could be mistaken for a burn scar.”

The lady pursed her lips as she scanned through the papers. Eddie tried not to loom or tap his foot as he waited. When her face fell and she frowned he tried not to cry or get violent. “No, I’m sorry sir, I don’t have anyone like that listed here. They could be at another hospital, or,” the lady pointed to a nearby tent, “they could be there.” 

Eddie followed his gaze to the place she was pointing at. “The, the-” black trash bags were piled in front of a stark white tent. That could mean it was only one type of place. 

“I’m so sorry sir, if your family is actually there.” Eddie barely nodded at her, listlessly making his way over to the tent. Part of him wanted to believe that Buck and Christopher was at another hospital, but if they were, wouldn’t they have been found by someone. Wouldn’t Eddie have tangible proof that they were alive? Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. His knees started to wobble as he started scanning through the list of the deceased kept just outside the doors of the tent.

---

“Eddie! Has anyone seen an Eddie Diaz?!” A loud voice echoed in the background. Eddie frowned. It sounded a lot like Buck, but he- the lady said he was-

“My name is Evan Buckley, have you seen Edmundo Diaz?” The voice was slightly softer this time. Eddie turned around and almost fell to his knees. There, bathed in the LED lights was his best friend clutching his child in his arms. Eddie sobbed and started running to them.

“Buck! Buck!” 

“Eddie?” Buck wanted to run to Eddie, but walking was hard enough. He stayed where he was and let Eddie run into him. It didn’t take long. Buck quickly felt Eddie wrap his arms around both him and Christopher. 

It was then in his best friend's arms that Buck finally let the weight of the day catch up to him. His knees buckled and he went boneless in Eddie’s arms. Said man took it like a champ, first he made sure he had a secure hold on Chris, then he let himself sink to the ground with Buck. The younger man rested his back on Eddie’s chest and relaxed. The uncomfortable, burning pressure on his legs and arms was finally eased. Buck made a happy little sigh and burrowed further into Eddie, just as Chris was doing in his sleep. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed by it but he just spent over five hours slowly losing hope that he would ever find Eddie alive. It would take the fear of God to separate them. 

Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The arm that wasn’t around Christopher tightened around Buck’s waist. The younger man could hear his partner murmur prayers in what he thought was spanish. Tears, of what Buck hoped was relief fell from Eddie’s face onto Buck’s shoulder. 

“Oh god, oh my god, I thought- I-” Eddie rambled, finding his voice again.

“Hey, hey hey, I’m fine. Me and Chris are all right.”

Eddie made a disbelieving noise. “Okay my leg hurts like a bitch and I probably have one too many cuts, but it’s nothing life threatening.” 

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Not after the day I’ve had.”

“In a minute we should get you checked out.”

“Aww you can’t do it for me?” Buck shifted his head slightly to bat his eyes at Eddie.

“No, an unbiased professional should handle you,” Eddie whispered hoping the night sky would hide his blush. Buck nodded and listened to Eddie breathing. 

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Buck whispered, like a mantra. He brought Eddie’s hand up to rest above his heart so Eddie could feel his heart beat. “We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Even though Buck actually did need medical help, the trio stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the fact that all three of them were lucky enough to make it out alive and to return to each other. 

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Mystery Skulls -The Future

Alright, now that I’ve watched “Mystery Skulls Animated -The Future” and am now done screaming into a pillow because I never could have predicted THAT ending in a million years, let me get some initial thoughts down…

*Whenever I listen to “Enemy” I always think how perfectly this fits with not only Arthur and Lewis’s situation but Mystery and Shiromori’s as well so cue a pleased, “Oh!” from me that a snippet of “Enemy” made its way into the beginning of this video. Very nice!

*I’ve completely been expecting for two years that, as soon as doubt crept over Lewis’s skull, that the cave would disappear and Arthur would simply land back in the truck unharmed so that wasn’t a surprise. What WAS a surprise is that, I admit, I had fully convinced myself that the gunshot sound at the end of “Hellbent” was Lance shooting Shiromori so the reveal that it was Lewis all along that was the target really made me dramatically gasp!

*Gunshots obviously don’t affect a ghost… except for the one that went through Lewis’s chest aka his death wound which is one of those details that make you go, “Actually that DOES make a kind of sense. Ghosts WOULD be sensitive in the area that killed them.”

It also shows that Lewis isn’t entirely in control of his actions. Ghosts are beings of pure emotion and it doesn’t take much for him to go right back to irrational anger and rough up Lance which is… not cool, man. He’s going to be sorry later when he can think straight!

*The bit with the changing photograph… At this moment in time, my early thoughts are that with the first photo being only of Lewis and Vivi, it symbolises that Lewis has kept only Vivi in his heart.

Arthur is a green-eyed demon who Lewis must get Vivi away from before it is too late and Mystery is just a dog. He’s irrelevant.

However, when Arthur touches the locket, it reactivates another memory, one in which they were all a solid group and that they were happy. Lewis is clearly shocked to see this new image and when focus is also brought to Lewis’ eye(s) being visible in this photo (I’m going to set aside that they were visible in “Ghost” as well until the photo was redrawn for “Freaking Out” as I think this is pretty much a last minute idea in-between videos) it also serves to remind him of who he used to be. Eyes are a window to the soul after all and I think a small truth just broke through Lewis’ anger there enough to make him drop to his knees and weep black tears. Very effective especially when this is paired with the line, “I’m worried ‘bout the future… and fucking with the past.”

And then of course the truck blows up before they can dwell on this any longer! I love Arthur and Lewis’ dazed, “What just happened?” faces!

*Vivi takes the fact that her dog is actually a fox very well but then again she also has a ghost, a plant lady and her own ancestor connecting with her across the centuries to mentally process as well so that’s understandable.

She’s also a surprisingly effective badass (granted she is getting some help from Mushi) which was brilliantly displayed in the animation, the camera movement, the angles, the special effects… everything on screen! Not bad for someone who has spent most of this series either running from things or being unconscious! A certain Vine though, wouldn’t get out of my head -“Don’t fuck with me! I have the power of God AND anime on my side!!”

*Heh. Shiromori had a manicure in-between videos. ;)

*I really didn’t have any solid ideas as to how the Shiromori problem would be resolved but I still wasn’t expecting that! I actually shrieked out loud and I’m usually so quiet on first viewings! The horror and regret over both her and Mystery’s faces though (those are definitely, -“I didn’t want things to end like this”- tears in Shiro’s eyes) tell me that she doesn’t deserve this. She’s just a plant that let jealousy and a blood-addiction get out of control!

The only thing that gives me hope is that her heart wasn’t actually destroyed; it’s just flown off somewhere across the parking lot. She can still be regrown and start anew!

*The ending. The very definition of a, “Well, I didn’t see THAT one coming!” ending. I guess that confirms a thought that the Green Spirit can only really possess a heart that is in turmoil, one that has its guard down so to speak.

I presume it’s easy for it to grab onto “simple things” such as small animals and severed arms but when it comes to complicated living humans and magical creatures it has to wait for the right circumstances and Mystery’s heart breaking over Shiromori’s fate is just what it was looking for.

Of course there is still the question of why it is doing this. Yes, Mystery is the biggest threat so it’s taking him out of the equation but is its murderous target the whole of Mystery Skulls or just Lewis? The fact that Lewis is adopted and doesn’t know where he came from is really significant to me. It raises the possibility that the Green Spirit killed Lewis as part of a blood vendetta against his birth family that he is not even aware of. I’ll have to wait and see whether the Green Spirit and Lewis’ true backstory is even something that can be told in music video form but I really don’t think it’s causing all this death and chaos simply because it’s bored and doing this would be funny.

*I do notice that Mystery has two plasters on his heart which have to refer to his two missing tails that the Ancestor has to be responsible for. They both appear to grow back though, both as a reaction to Vivi and Shiromori getting really hurt and to the Green Spirit’s possession; it’s not only taking him over but restoring him back to his prime… just with some added decoration (love the collar changing from a ‘?’ to a ‘!?’).

I’m not sure what to think that Vivi’s shade of blue and Shiromori’s white comes pouring out of the plastered areas when they are injured nor of all the liquid seeping out of Mystery’s heart that matches several characters’ colour scheme…  and then his mouth turns green… Possibly it is just meant to represent all the different thoughts and feelings that Mystery is going through right now; all the emotions concerning everyone in his life and the mistakes he’s made with them that the Green Spirit is able to latch on to and corrupt from within.

Possibly when Mystery removed the Green Spirit in the first place, a piece of it remained inside him that the arm can connect with… because I don’t think a zombified arm literally crawled inside Mystery’s wounds and grabbed his heart at the end there!

*For most of the video, I was gasping, shrieking and letting off the occasional distressed whimper… but I really had to clap a hand over my mouth hard to stop myself from screaming with laughter at the end credit scene! Vivi and Arthur just spoke for us all, didn’t they…!?

*Final thoughts: I’ve been really hoping that the song “Magic” will be picked for the last part; it just sounds like a finale song, it speaks to me of happy endings and I have seen posts by Mystery Ben from a few years ago that he would really like to use “Magic” at some point in this story… but with this cliff-hanger, I’m having a hard time picturing the finale going cheerfully right into this peppy tune!

They could of course begin with a sample of a completely different darker song at first and then go into “Magic” but still! I’m not sure now… Wait… a few years ago, an artist named Yuramec posted an animatic of “Magic” on Youtube featuring their own character, Leopold being chased by a demonic spirit (that also has three eyes!) until the spirit is battered down with good magic and turns back into an innocent little ghost girl. Mystery Ben made a comment (Which must be on his Tumblr as I can’t find it on YouTube but I KNOW I’m not making this up!) saying that it was a funny coincidence that this video contains some ideas that he also wanted to implement for MSA but of course, he couldn’t say which ideas due to spoilers… Baring in mind as to what has happened to Mystery and his corruption, is this… is this what Ben was talking about…?

[veryvincible]

how do you draw faces? mine look okay in sketches but lining them ruins them 😢

I may not be the best person to ask, given that I’m a self taught artist in the same way someone who watches a lot of Synesthesia videos might be a self taught pianist. I can certainly pick up a pen and draw, but I’m not super well versed in terminology or, uh, really anything specific that might be of help to you. I’ve just been doing it for so long that my hands know how to do it. I will respectfully tag @ghosthan here, though, and if she’s willing to give some advice of her own (and possibly correct some advice I’m giving you, if any of it is not up to par), she’s more than welcome to. She is the Art School friend.

But, since you’re here, here’s my basic process:

I’d suggest using a lot of reference images if you’ve got a particular look in mind, especially as someone who’s not super practiced with faces. This is especially helpful for angles that might seem unfamiliar to you. I’ve kind of collected all the knowledge there is to collect from my usual references (Steve, Tony, and Tiberius), so I don’t have to do much searching when I draw them, but when I pick up a new character, I tend to scroll through images of people that match their age, race, etc. to see what vibe I’m going for.

For our purposes, I’ll just pull up the reference I used to solidify my 616 Tony. I don’t think this is a perfect faceclaim by any means, and there are a lot of changes I tend to make with his face shape and facial structure overall (mostly jaw, cheekbone, and nose changes), but. Here’s David Gandy, tumblr’s favorite.

I usually do this part by eye, to the point where I’m not actually sure whether or not this is how you’re supposed to do it anymore, but breaking the face with three lines and comparing the widths of the sections you get as a result is very helpful for proportions.

Kiiind of like this? I know some people are very particular about where these lines are supposed to be (like, where they fall on the eyes, nose, and mouth) and what the circle is supposed to be focused on (I’ve heard someone say it should be from the top of the skull to the bottom of the nose?), but as a general guide, my rough sketch when I’m looking at a reference kind of resembles this minus the lines. I just start the circle at the top of the skull and try not to make it much wider than the ears, then adjust later on to accommodate the rest of the skull.

So, this is kind of rough, and I can explain how I do it by eye if it’ll help, but.

As you can see, the middle of the nose here kind of splits the face (from the forehead to the jaw) in half, at least on Gandy. By eye, I’d take more care to notice the bottom of the nose as well as the middle to create kind of a diamond shape in my sketch (we’ll get to that in a minute), as well as the top and bottom lines of the lips, but that’s more intuitive.

So, you can kind of place placeholders for everything here, and I’ll go more into detail about how I do individual facial features, but.

This is basically the most bare bones one of my sketches will get. I put in little lines for the cheekbones, and I start sketching in some basic features. I sharpened the jaw as well, because I like a Tony with a sharp jaw. :)

For the eye shape, I basically get down the shape of the eyeball we see+the inner corner of the eye.  Then you can focus a little more on studying the eyelids, the wrinkles, etc. And then I added in a little iris+pupil, which is... you know, circles.

The nose is pretty simple. You get down the ball and the little shapes above the nostrils (nostril houses..?), and then you start to build the bridge off of that. Some people’s noses don’t have very pronounced bridges, so you don’t have to bring it up that high. I’ve drawn some noses that just kind of fizzled out at the top of the ball (and then defined the very slight bridge later on in coloring/shading).

The last bit is just erasing most of that circle and then stylizing the bridge/ball a bit.

Excuse the rough, rough erasing here, but this is basically the deal for lips. You can squash/stretch/whatever the circles as needed to match the face shape you’re going for, and you can add some fun shines if that pleases you. Lips, I mostly play by ear, but this is the method I used when I was first starting out.

Speaking of ears. I would help you with those if I had any idea how. I feel like I use a reference every single time I draw an ear. Sometimes, I just scribble whatever the fuck into the lines and just let it happen. This was one of those times. My bad.

So, you just take what you’ve done there and plop them onto the sketch (I usually lower the first rough sketch’s opacity and then make the neater sketch over it, as opposed to having a rough sketch that I then try to line-- it’s not that time consuming once rough sketches come more naturally to you), and:

You get something like this! Some details have been changed (bridge of his nose, lip shape), but all of these were small modifications that worked to personalize the reference. I tend to do my face very cleanly the first time to get all the details right, and sometimes this works so well that I can just copy+paste everything inside the face and color it black for the finished lineart. This isn’t a must or anything, but it’s my preference. Even if you’re rougher than this, sticking to lines that you’re pretty confident will be placed similarly in the final lineart can help a lot with finalizing the portrait. 

Add some facial hair, some hair, and more details, and... There he is! The reference was used more for a general “feeling” of a face and proper proportioning than anything else, and then you can switch up facial features, push things up or down, and sharpen or round out whatever you’d like to make the character look more identifiable. If you sketch like this, your lineart might be a lot easier to work with. Or you could just use this as your lineart, color it in messily, and pretend the whole thing was intentional from the start.

A few last notes that I’ve learned from actual professional/educated artists, and then you’re in @ghosthan’s ghost hands:

1) You should always be able to draw a straight line across the nose from the corner of one eye to the corner of the other. This doesn’t necessarily mean a horizontal line on your page, it just means that it’s perpendicular to the line you’d draw vertically down the face if you were to half it. To make this clearer, I’ll do the same on some stock photos.

No matter what angle the character’s at or how their head is tilted, if both eyes are showing, I’m pretty sure they follow this rule.

2) The pupil is usually centered in the center of the iris, and it’s also usually showing in full. Yes, that middle circle in there is supposed to be a pupil. I know. I draw them funny. (There are some anatomical mistakes here made in how I moved the iris along the eye, as it’s important to remember that the eye is a sphere and the iris will move around it, as opposed to the iris moving up/down/left/right on a flat plane). The biggest mistake artists make with this is that they’ll move the pupil to the side of the iris that the iris is pointed toward; if the eye is looking left, the iris will be to the left (correct) and the pupil will be to the left of the iris (less correct). A lot of people cut off the top half of the pupil when stylizing eyes as well, which is... I mean, again, it’s just slightly less correct. Honestly, I’ve seen some art styles where these “mistakes” worked fine, and I don’t really think your art style has to be perfectly anatomically correct with every single tiny detail of the pupils and iris and whatnot, if you’re not submitting it to any critics or competitions or w/e. But if you would like this information, here you go. I have it.

3) Identify the hairline, then draw your hair in sections before adding detail. I didn’t learn this one from an art school source (I picked it up naturally, just from photo/comic panel studies), but this is art school friend approved, so! Apparently, a lot of beginner artists struggle a lot with rendering believable hair. These sketches are by no means flawless, but the gist is there: cut it up into sections, draw those first, then fill in the details afterward. It’ll give you a more cohesive looking style and make it easier for you to fiddle with the hairstyle as you go along.

That’s all I have for now! I know this is nowhere near fully comprehensive (and it doesn’t cover a lot of angles, nor coloring, nor... okay, a lot’s missing), but here’s how I generally go about fully sketching a straight-on face.

If you have any more questions, please let me know! Or you can ask @ghosthan directly and get actual art school advice.

[iamwhoiamtmblr]

Title: Remember Who You Are

Story Rating: Chapter 14  18+ ONLY!!

Warnings:  Oral Sex (Both partners), Intercourse swearing. 

Relationships:  Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader; Steve Rogers x Reader; Dark Steve Rogers x Reader

Master List - Link to Other Chapters

New Mood-board for the series. (Captain America photos property of Marvel)

Chapter Note: This chapter was originally 600 words. It’s now over 2200. I wanted to make sure I captured the moment properly. Feedback and Re-blogs are welcome. 😃

***My work is to not be posted on any other site without my permission. If you see it anywhere other than Tumblr please inform me*** 

Steve can’t stop thinking about you, one particular though crossed his mind. He remembers the one of the most special days of your relationship at the Cabin.  He smiles...

You and Steve have now been seeing each other for almost 3 months. You tried to hide your relationship from everyone but somehow they all knew; after all they worked for a spy agency. For the first time since you started working for SHIELD, you finally had a whole weekend off. Steve told you to prepare for a short trip but he wouldn’t tell you where you were going. As a surprise, Steve showed up in a SUV instead of his bike, picking you up at the door of your apartment building.

“Where are we going?” (You) “For a drive.” He smiles. He takes your luggage.

After about 5 hour trip, you enter what looks like a logging road. About a ½ hr drive on the dirt road, you end up at a cabin in the middle of nowhere. It looks rundown.

“Huh, who owns this cabin?” “I do. It’s my retreat, a place of solitude when I need to be alone and recharge.” Getting out of the SUV, you walk around outside. “Ha, solar panels.” You laugh. He snorts, “Yes, I do need to have electricity; I still have to be available if anything happens; you know emergencies, that sort of thing. I have cell service as there is a new tower about 40 km’s away and the ability to use my laptop.” Upon entering the cabin, it’s only 1 huge room. You were surprised at the inside. Mini fridge, sink, table, fireplace, comfy chair and a king size bed in the corner. “Wow, I love it.” You smile. “I’ll be back shortly; I need to get some firewood.” (Steve)

Smiling, you run and jump on the bed, nice and soft. “Ooommmpppfff!!” You look around the cabin, you feel at home here. Now you know why Steve likes this place. It feels cozy and comfy. You decide to go outside to help Steve. Steve continues to chop some wood and you help lugging it into the cabin. After lugging awhile, you need to go… number #1.

“Potty break! Where’s the bathroom?” “Behind the cabin.” he smirks. “Oh well… can’t have everything.” (You)

Steve laughs... 

Steve brings some more firewood into the cabin and then unloads the groceries and the luggage. He starts the fireplace, generating some heat in the cold cabin.

“It’s nice outside, do you want to go for a walk?” (You) “No, later.” (Steve, serious tone) “Awww….” (You pout)  “What do you want to do?”

He turns and intensely stares at you with no emotion on his face. He approaches you slowly, taking off his sweater and shirt throwing them on the chair. You see his broad, magnificent and sculpted chest. You see the scars from all of the missions and fights telling tales of battles. You lightly trace them with your fingers, resulting in Steve getting goose bumps from your touch.

“Wow….” You look at him with awe; handsome chiseled features, dark blonde hair and beard, broad shoulders and lots of muscles.

He wraps his arms around you and starts kissing you tenderly, then passionately. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” (Steve) He kisses your tenderly on neck and face. “What are your intentions Captain America?” “Naughty ones.” he whispers. He takes off your sweater and starts to unbutton your blouse and jeans. Steve kisses your shoulder and the nape of your neck. You give a soft moan. “I want you (Y/N). I’ve wanted you for so long”.

His eyes have changed; they are filled with pure lust and raw hunger. You close your eyes as he removes your blouse and jeans. He gives a smile seeing your matching purple lacy bra and thong. His hands roam all over your back and bottom. He continues to kiss you passionately, angling your head to get deeper kisses. He holds his forehead against the top of yours  looking down at you. His breathing is ragged. He scoops you up and places you on the side of the bed. You sit up and unbutton his jeans. He smiles down at you. His erection springs from his underwear, already hard as a rock. Whoa, you think. You marvel at the size of it; will it fit?

Smiling at him, you take the initiative; you begin to lick the length of it. Steve moans. “Baby-girl.” (Baby-girl was his nickname he called you) He puts his hands on your head. “Put it in your mouth please.” “Well, since you said please.” You tease.

You lick the pre-cum off the top. You smile at him. You try to put as much it in your mouth as you can. You gently tease it with your tongue. Steve closes his eyes and groans loudly. You continue licking and sucking on it, using your hand to sheath it, moving your hand up and down. Steve continues to moan, his hands never leaving the back of your head.

“That feels so fucking awesome!”  After a few minutes - “STOP!!!” (Steve)

The volume of his voice startles you “What?” You jump and back off right away. “Did I do something wrong?” “No, you didn’t; you’re too good in fact. I don’t want to cum this way, not for our first time together. I’m too close, I need to come back down.” Steve is breathing very hard now.

Steve pushes you back on the bed, lying on your back. Moving you to the middle of the bed, he sits in front of your legs. He opens your thighs with his leg, making it very hard not to notice his erection is still there and for him, he can see the wetness in your thong. He place kisses down your body as he removes your underwear.  He takes a finger and touches your wetness between your legs, then licks your juices off his finger. “Sweet.”

He kisses your stomach down to your warm spot. He gently starts to lick your folds. You giggle. “What are you giggling for?” (Steve’s a little annoyed) “Your beard tickles”. You smile. “Tickles huh? Un huh, we’ll see about that.” Steve dives into your pussy and attacks your clit. “Aaahhh!”

His tongue starts to hit your clit hard, sucking on it. He plays with your vagina with his tongue as if it was his shaft . You moan, “Oh Steve”.

He inserts two fingers, looking for your g-spot. Your orgasm begins to swell. Three fingers… He continues his assault on your clit. You let go of his hair for fear of ripping his hair out of his head. You grasp the bed covers as it your life depended on it. You scream his name out loud. You experience your first orgasm with him and you’re already out of breath.

He moves up to you again, wiping your wetness from his beard, he begins to kiss you tenderly. You taste yourself off of his lips. You put your arms around him and lift yourself right up to his face so you can see eye to eye.

You have never wanted him badly as you do right now. You thought about having sex with him before and wondered what it would be like with a super soldier. He acted like a gentleman this entire time but little did you know he was holding back. He didn’t want to scare you off. He’s been patient, waiting for the right time. You didn’t know this animal side of Steve even existed. You want him…. you finally have the nerve to say it.

“Please Steve.” “Please what?” he looks into your eyes. “I want you inside me!” you whisper. “You want me?” You nod.

Your request was music to his ears. He was wishing/hoping you would say it; it meant to him that you want him, you need him. You lay back down and he covers you entire body with his; leaving very little room for you to move. He grasps your wrists and holds them beside your head. “Ready?” he whispers in your ear. You nod.

He lines himself up with your entrance. In one swift thrust he bottoms out. “Ooooohhhhh Steve!!” He pauses for a moment; he’s scared he hurt you. “You ok?” You nod. Your core is stretching to accommodate him. It hurt for a brief moment, buy now your body is overcome with pleasure; it’s like electricity running through your body.

He thrusts are slow and tender at first; teasing you. He smiles down at you watching the pleasure in your face. You’re eyes are closed. He’s never felt the emotions he feels right now. Watching you, he’s giving you the love and pleasure you desire, what you crave, your body craves, what you need from him and only him. Seeing your body react to him gives him the greatest joy. He knows you’re the one for him and he’s the one for you. He wants to hold onto you forever; never leaving his bed…..our bed.

You feel so full. He pulls almost all the way and back in again. But he begins thrusting in you faster and harder. You squeal. He found your sweet spot and he makes that his target. He let go of your wrists, he pulls you into him with one of his arms, lifting you from the bed. You immediately grab a hold of him. You started moving your hips to meet his, wrapping your legs around his hips. You try to pull him inside you as far as you can. Steve moans deeply. You want him, all of him. You open your eyes, looking up at Steve, he’s staring down at you, his face full of delight smiling. You can’t stop squirming and you can’t keep your eyes open. You cling to him tightly and feel lost in the moment; your head is swirling. You put your head in the crook of his neck moaning softly. He feels your hot breath on him.

He stops suddenly. In surprise, you drop you head and open your eyes. He eyes are filled with love this time. He begins to kiss your passionately.  You open your mouth and Steve probes your mouth with his tongue. He lays you back down on the bed. He begins to play with your breasts; nipping at them; teasing them, sucking on your nipples. He slips his hand between the two of you and plays with your tender clit. He begins to thrust again, this time faster. Closer and stronger, your orgasm begins to build again. You core is beginning to tighten. Steve is now  you like an animal, hard and relentless. He pulls you up to him again, holding you skin to skin. “Oh god, OMG” your 2nd orgasm hits you hard. You let go of Steve and collapse on the bed. You’re out of breath again and this time you almost pass out. The room is spinning. You’re filled with bliss. You look at Steve with love in your eyes. You think he’s all done but then you realize that he didn’t cum; OH NO….he’s not done with you yet! You gasp.

He flips you over so now you are on your hands and knees. Steve begins to take you from behind, softly and slowly. He knows you’re tender from all that he has done to you so far.

“Baby-girl! Love this so much!”  He’s panting into your ear. He starts to pound you with more vigor. “One more time…. Please Y/N.”

You feel like you can’t, your energy is spent and you’re overcome with tiredness. He continues the assault! Fingering your clit, massaging your breasts and nipping at your neck and shoulders to heighten your arousal. Harder and faster! More and more…. He wants to ensure you come again. You feel you orgasm building. Less than 1 minute later, you come again for the 3rd time. You moan softly as you have no more voice.

Steve screams your name! You walls grabs his shaft, squeezing him. His orgasm is just as powerful as yours. You feel his cum inside, warming you. He holds you for a minute as your body begins to relax.

He then lets go and you collapse on the bed. Steve falls on top of you but you don’t mind, you like his weight on you. It makes you feel safe, protected. After a few seconds, he lightly kisses your back, shoulders and your neck. He rolls over onto his back, gently pulling you towards him. “Come here baby-girl.” He covers you both with the comforter. “You ok?” “uh hmm.” “You want to go for that walk now?” “No. I want to stay right here.” You sigh, content as can be. 

You said the words he wants to hear. He feels the same way as you; he doesn’t want to leave the cabin either.  By now, you’re fast asleep in his arms.  He holds you tightly. He places soft kisses on the top of your head. You’re snuggled into him; your head on his chest and your arm draped across him. You fit in that spot exactly. He feels like you belong there, that you were meant to be there. It was for you and only you. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, but to him, everything you both experienced today was worth the wait.

“I love you” he whispers into your hair.

[jingabitch]

An Arrangement for Convenience ch.5

Summary: It's ridiculous that girl groups aren't allowed to date, and are kept under such strict lock and key that they can't satisfy their desires. Enter Ha-eun, YG's solution to the problem.

Pairings: ot4 x oc

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving) | sex work | rimming | spanking | slight D/s | mommy kink | pet play | spitting | slapping

A/N: Wrote this a while back and posted on ao3; reposting here because I want to be more active on this platform. While I currently have 8 chapters written which I will be releasing on Tumblr gradually, I am currently on hiatus due to school and work commitments and will not be actively writing and posting new stuff until the semester ends in December.

Series index

The next morning, Ha-eun woke up as the first rays of sunshine were starting to peek in through the drawn curtains. She yawned as she stretched and rolled over, pushing herself up into a sitting position with her hands.

There was excited huffing, barking and a furry mass suddenly pressed against her belly, and Ha-eun blinked down at Kuma. “Good morning,” she greeted the dog, stroking his soft fur. He panted and hopped up to lick her face excitedly, and she laughed as she let him.

Jennie wasn’t in bed, and Ha-eun shrugged mentally. She’d probably just gone to use the restroom, she thought, untangling herself from the covers to do the same. Realizing that she was still nude and it was kind of chilly in the apartment, she went to Jennie’s closet and helped herself to a t-shirt and pajama shorts before leaving the room.

On her way to the restroom, however, she was waylaid by the sound of laughter and cooking, and an amazing smell that tempted her to detour from the path to the bathroom to the kitchen.

“Shit,” she breathed in awe, watching Jennie and Chaeyoung moving around the kitchen easily. “What is that smell?”

Chaeyoung turned to grin at her. “Oh, you’re up, good morning,” she greeted casually. “We’re making bacon waffles.”

As if on cue, Ha-eun’s stomach growled and she flushed. Jennie, closing the waffle iron around a scoop of batter, looked up with a teasing grin that fell off her face when she took in Ha-eun’s current ensemble. The younger girl looked really nice in her clothes.

“Oh, my God, bacon waffles sounds like heaven,” Ha-eun groaned, “but I have to pee and brush my teeth really quick, then I swear I’ll be right back,” she promised, running off to the bathroom.

“She’s so cute,” Chaeyoung sighed, as the bathroom door swung shut.

Jennie flipped the waffle iron, and hummed noncommittally even though she couldn’t help but agree. Still, she wouldn’t be her if she didn’t make a snarky remark, so it was almost out of obligation that she said, “You just think she’s cute because she’s happy to get on her knees for you.”

Chaeyoung scoffed as she went to get the syrup and butter for the waffles. “That is not true at all. I think you guys are cute and none of you would do that for me.”

Jennie shrugged; she was right, after all. She continued cooking the waffles as Chaeyoung started washing and cutting the strawberries they had in the fridge.

When Ha-eun re-emerged from the bathroom, newly freshened up, she came straight back to the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help with?” she asked with wide eyes, watching the two girls move around the kitchen in tandem, the ease with which they worked together in the small space clearly showing their familiarity with each other.

“No, just stay there,” Chaeyoung giggled. “This is your reward for doing well on your test!”

Ha-eun, surprised, just gaped. She’d thought they’d forgotten about it, which was fine, it wasn’t like she’d been expecting them to actually remember, but even when the idea had been floating around she’d expected it to be something sexual, not this.

She couldn’t help that her heart fluttered just a little, or that she suddenly felt soft and mushy on the inside. None of her previous clients had ever really bothered to do something like this for her; it had always been clear that it was about them. Which was only right, after all, since they did pay good money for her to make them feel a certain way.

“Thank you,” she said softly, as Jennie finished preparing the third plate. Ha-eun jumped to help her then, taking one plate from her and helping Chaeyoung bring the other stuff to the table.

“Should I wake Lisa-unnie and Jisoo-unnie?” she asked, standing behind her seat with her hand on the back of the chair.

Jennie shrugged. “They don’t usually wake up that early, especially Jisoo-unnie. I left more batter for them when they get up.”

“Oh… all right then,” Ha-eun said, sitting down and scooping a generous amount of butter onto her waffles, then drowning it all in syrup. She dug into the mess with gusto, moaning sinfully around the first mouthful of waffles.

“Oh, my God, bacon is definitely the best thing that ever came out of the West,” Ha-eun groaned with her mouth full.

Chaeyoung laughed. “Should I be offended?” she asked lightly.

“Okay, democracy is pretty good too,” Ha-eun amended after swallowing, cutting another section of the waffle and stuffing it into her mouth.

Jennie looked at her indulgently, eating her own waffle. She really was a pretty good cook, she thought as she chewed and swallowed. It was nice that Ha-eun seemed to think so too.

Chaeyoung huffed, though, having clearly been angling for a personal compliment. Ha-eun laughed at her. “Fine, if you insist, it’s you,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

Chaeyoung narrowed her eyes at her. “You’ll pay for that,” she said threateningly, but Ha-eun wasn’t intimidated, instead saying “promise?” flirtatiously and winking at her.

The girl really was insatiable, Jennie thought, stifling a laugh at the scandalized expression on Chaeyoung’s face, and she had a sassy streak a mile wide given the way she escalated all the time.

They settled into a regular conversation soon after, Ha-eun asking what they had planned for the day. It really was fascinating listening to them discuss dance practice and Jennie’s photo shoot for Chanel like they were just everyday things, which they were to them, she supposed. Still, since her plans for the day mostly involved going home and mopping the floor before going for her afternoon class, their lives in comparison were way more interesting than hers.

“Unnie, you didn’t wait for me for breakfast?” Lisa interrupted their conversation by whining loudly as she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped out, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Go make your own waffles,” Jennie pointed at the kitchen, not even deigning to reply Lisa’s protest. Muttering to herself in annoyance, Lisa padded over to the kitchen, turning the waffle iron back on again and then going to grab a carton of juice from the refrigerator.

“Good morning, Lisa-unnie,” Ha-eun greeted, giggling at the older girl’s antics.

“Oh, good morning Ha-eun-ah,” Lisa greeted as she poured the juice into a glass. “Did you sleep well? Did Jennie-unnie treat you properly?” she asked, grinning mischievously.

Ha-eun giggled. “I have no complaints,” she said, sending a wink Jennie’s way.

“Yeah, we could all hear you not complaining, ” Lisa shot back, but Ha-eun just shrugged. “Jennie-unnie is very talented at many things,” she responded, turning back to her food to eat another bite of her waffle.

“I just bet she is,” Lisa chortled. “Too bad she refuses to share her talents with the rest of the girls.”

Jennie rolled her eyes. “How long are you going to complain about that? I did offer, you know.”

Lisa scowled. “That was only if I let you tie me up!”

Jennie shrugged. “Ha-eun let me tie her up last night.”

Ha-eun nodded. “It was fun. You should have let her do it.”

Sighing as the waffle iron beeped, indicating that the waffle was done, Lisa used the tongs to pry it out of the mold and plopped it down on her plate. “I’ll overlook that, but only if you promise to let me tie you up too.”

“Sure,” Ha-eun agreed nonchalantly. It wasn’t like she was going to say no to Lisa, since there was a contract and this was her job and all. It was nice that she still flirted with her like that. It was all a part of the experience she wanted, she supposed.

“Great!” Lisa chirped. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“Uh, I have to go to class in the afternoon, but I’m free after that, why?”

“Come visit us at the studio if you have time,” Lisa invited.

Ha-eun accepted eagerly, excited to see whatever new choreography they were working on.

Soon enough, though, it was time for her to leave, and she sighed as she went to put on her clothes from yesterday, not really enjoying the thought of wearing her dirty clothes again. If she’d known she was staying over, she would have packed a spare set of clothes, having gotten a nice routine down that prevented her from the walk of shame.

“Oh, you can borrow some of my clothes if you want,” Chaeyoung offered, and Ha-eun smiled at her. “Thanks, but there’s no way I could fit into your clothes,” she said. “You’re so thin, it’s not fair,” she sighed with envy.

Chaeyoung laughed. “Love, I spend more time working out than normal people dream of having. You look gorgeous,” she reassured the younger girl, popping a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, if you say so,” Ha-eun said, accepting the compliment with grace as she hugged her. “I’ll see you guys later,” she called as she slipped her sneakers back on and walked out the door, going to the subway station to take the train back home.

As she was letting herself into her apartment, calling to her brother to let him know that she was home, she looked out the window of the living room and couldn’t help but laugh. There was a giant billboard on the building across the road from hers, and an ad for - you guessed it - Blackpink’s upcoming comeback, with a blown up photo of all four girls staring coolly at the camera had gone up yesterday during the time that she’d been out yesterday.

Taking a picture of the billboard, she sent it to the group with exclamation marks, laughing when Lisa immediately replied.

We can’t get enough of you, sweetie. Xx

Shaking her head, she laughed and put her phone in her pocket as she went to see what her brother was up to.

By the time Ha-eun got to the studio, it was almost nine, and she was frantic. Her class had ended more than two hours ago, and she’d been planning to go straight to the YG building, but had been waylaid by her project groupmates who’d wanted to have an impromptu discussion.

“Fucking idiots, always calling meetings to talk about useless things we could settle easily over text,” she seethed as she ran down the hall to the studio. She’d texted them to let them know that she would be late and to let her know if they were leaving so she could meet them elsewhere, but they hadn’t replied and she took that to mean that they’d been practicing all this while and hadn’t seen her messages.

Reaching the door to the room they’d told her to come to, she took a second, standing outside the entrance, to straighten herself out, running her hands through her hair, smoothing out her blouse and adjusting her skirt, which had somehow rotated almost 180 degrees around her waist. Consciously evening her breathing so it would look less like she’d just been sprinting down the hallways of the YG building like a lunatic, she opened the door gently and stepped into the room.

To her surprise and dismay, it was dark, although the air in the room was still cool, and when she looked up at the ceiling, she could see that the air conditioner was still on. Had they left and forgotten to turn off the air conditioner?

She groped for the light switch, sure that it couldn’t be too far from where she was standing, when a voice cut through the silence, sharp and authoritative.

“Stop.”

It was Jennie, and she sounded furious.

Ha-eun’s heart pounded. What was this?

“Jennie-unnie? What’s going on?”

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Ha-eun-ah.”

“Unnie?” Ha-eun’s head whipped around to try and locate the source of the voice, to no avail, because the room was completely dark now that the door had shut behind her.

Suddenly, the lights were on, but it was the spotlights that had been installed for choreography videos and the room was still mostly dark. Ha-eun blinked as she looked around, seeing the four of them standing in different spots around the room. Jennie was standing almost right in front of her, her arms folded across her chest.

Ha-eun gulped as Jennie stepped closer to her. She was dressed in a sports bra and leggings, drenched in sweat, the hair that had escaped from her ponytail sticking to her forehead and neck, but she still looked gorgeous. Her thought process was cut off abruptly when Jennie’s hand shot out, grabbing her face, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her cheeks.

“I thought we agreed that you would be here at seven, hmm?” Jennie said quietly, the words slicing through the air like knives. They found their target easily as Ha-eun’s shoulders slumped. There were reasons, she wanted to explain, but they seemed like weak, pathetic excuses when she was faced with Jennie’s angry gaze boring into her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Jennie smirked as she squeezed Ha-eun’s face tighter, pushing down and forcing the younger girl onto her knees.

“Open,” she demanded and Ha-eun immediately obliged, her mouth falling open as she knelt before Jennie, who was bent over her, her face hovering over Ha-eun’s.

Her lips curved into a sinister grin right before she spat into Ha-eun’s open mouth, watching with satisfaction as the wad slid down her tongue and disappeared.

“Swallow,” she commanded and Ha-eun immediately obeyed, feeling herself drench her panties.

“Looks like you can do some things right, after all,” she sneered, before lifting her hand from Ha-eun’s face and using it to backhand her instead, so hard that her head turned, her cheek burning.

“You’re such a useless whore, you know that?” Jennie purred, fisting her hand in Ha-eun’s hair and pulling so that she was facing her again. “Coming two hours late, wasting our time… do you know how much our time is worth? Of course not… a poor little nobody like you can’t even imagine it.”

Ha-eun’s eyes filled with tears, but she knew that Jennie was right. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Let me make it up to you, please, mistress,” she begged.

Hearing that caused a thrill to shoot through Jennie, but she controlled her expression so that not a trace of her arousal showed as she continued to stare impassively down at the other girl. She scoffed. “And just how do you propose to do that, whore? You aren’t even good enough to fuck.”

Ha-eun’s lip trembled, tears spilling from her eyes now. She knew Jennie was right, she was nobody compared to them, they could easily replace her with someone who was more obedient, who turned up on time, who didn’t force them to wait for her…

“Please, please, I’ll do anything,” Ha-eun cried, pitching forward as she folded herself into a bow, her forehead hitting the floor with a loud knock that she barely even felt, so focused on earning forgiveness.

“Anything?” Jennie’s voice was silky and dangerous, but Ha-eun was too far gone by this point to notice the change in tone as she shuffled forward, her forehead now resting on top of Jennie’s bare feet as she continued pleading for forgiveness.

“Did you hear that, girls? She said anything ,” Jennie called. That caught Ha-eun’s attention, and she looked up, sniffling, as the other three girls glided out of the shadows, coming to stand next to Jennie.

Chaeyoung laughed, a sweet, delicate sound that seemed completely at odds with the atmosphere in the room. “Anything? My, that’s a broad statement to make, sweetie. Are you sure?”

Ha-eun looked up at them with wide eyes, in awe as they stared down at her as dispassionately as they had from the billboard outside her home. “I’m sure, Chaeyoung-unnie,” she breathed. Should she be more concerned about the fact that the way they looked at her, as if she were something dirty they’d found on the bottom of their shoes, made her drip? She was sure there was a puddle beneath where she was kneeling now, and her panties were definitely ruined.

Lisa made a doubtful noise. “It seems like you like Jennie-unnie more than the rest of us, though,” she commented, and Ha-eun almost sprained her neck with how quickly she wrenched her head around to stare at her in disbelief.

“N-no!” she denied, in a panic. Why would they even think that?

Jisoo hummed. “You let her do things to you that the rest of us can’t, though.”

“No, you can do anything you like to me, please, please,” Ha-eun begged. What could they be referring to?

Then it hit her. Of course. Still looking up at Jisoo, she let her mouth fall open slightly.

Jisoo feigned ignorance, though. “Oh? What do you want, baby? Use your words,” she coaxed, running her fingers through Ha-eun’s hair. It looked like a tender motion, but she was doing it roughly enough, pulling on the silky strands, that it hovered on the brink of being painful.

Ha-eun bit her lip in embarrassment. Was Jisoo serious? She was going to make her beg for that?

When no words were forthcoming, Jisoo frowned. “I’m not a mind reader, sweetheart. You need to tell mommy what you want,” she said, her voice harder now.

Left with no choice, Ha-eun had to say, “Please spit in my mouth,” her cheeks on fire. How humiliating, actually being forced to say the words, to beg to have something so degrading done to her. And yet she couldn’t deny that her pussy felt like it was on fire.

“Aww, anything for my baby,” Jisoo cooed, leaning forward so her face hovered over Ha-eun’s. “Don’t swallow yet,” she ordered before she spat into the younger girl’s open mouth, her eyes never leaving Ha-eun’s.

To her credit, Ha-eun didn’t flinch or otherwise move at all as the warm, sticky liquid dripped into her mouth, pooling on her tongue. Chaeyoung and Lisa then took their turns, before Jennie, once again, bent down, holding Ha-eun’s mouth open with her hand pressing on her cheeks, as she spat loudly.

“Good girl,” she cooed when she straightened up, the praise obviously affecting Ha-eun as her eyes sparkled with joy, even if she couldn’t smile at the moment.

“Swallow.”

At that, Ha-eun obediently closed her mouth, swirling the unholy mixture around before she swallowed it down.

“Aww, such a cute little girl,” Chaeyoung praised, petting Ha-eun on her head. “You’re our sweet little pet, aren’t you?” she asked, and Ha-eun, basking in the affection, just nodded, barely aware of what she was agreeing to.

“That’s good, because we got our pretty pet a present,” she continued, and Ha-eun looked up with half-lidded eyes to see that Lisa now had something in her hands. Blinking, she looked more carefully and saw that it was a black collar with rose gold hardware and a cute pink bell on the front of it.

“Whoa, where’d you get that?” Ha-eun blurted, surprised.

Jennie shrugged. “We ordered it online and had manager-oppa pick it up for us today.”

Ha-eun had to press her lips together to stifle a giggle at the thought of the quiet man having to pick up fetish gear for his charges.

Lisa bent down and buckled it around Ha-eun’s neck while Chaeyoung held Ha-eun’s hair out of the way. “You’re such a pretty girl with our collar on you,” Jisoo cooed, and Ha-eun couldn’t help but smile shyly. She definitely had a praise kink, they noticed.

“Come on, kitten, let’s go home,” Jennie said, clipping a leash to the little ring behind the bell, and Ha-eun blinked. Surely she didn’t mean…

Hesitantly, Ha-eun started to get up, but all four of them frowned immediately. “Did anyone tell you to stand, whore?” Jennie asked in a glacial tone, and Ha-eun immediately fell back to the ground, confused.

“But you…”

“Yes?” Jennie prompted when Ha-eun trailed off, raising a brow at the younger girl.

“All the way to the van?”

“Of course, pet, how else are we going to go home?” Chaeyoung replied with a little laugh, as if Ha-eun was stating the obvious.

“But what if there are people…?”

“Are you ashamed of people knowing you belong to us?” Jisoo asked, her brows coming together in a deep frown.

“No, mommy,” Ha-eun immediately mumbled, chastised.

Then they walked out of the studio like they did most nights, laughing and chatting casually. The only difference was that tonight, Lisa was holding on to a bag that wasn’t her own, and Ha-eun was crawling behind them, a leash attached to her collar that Jennie was holding, biting her lip while hoping fervently that no one saw her.

[booksandgalore]

Mirrors of Pride [Yandere!BTS]

Foreword:

Taehyung's company is enjoyable when he isn't contemplating about the different shades of black-and-white filters. Sure, he cares too much about the number of likes he has on social media.

And, yes, maybe you have to reject taking pictures of him everytime he hands you his phone, but true friends stay with each other no matter what. You just need to overlook his growing vanity, and ignore all the warning signs when he starts talking about someone non-existent.

Author’s Note:

It’s my first time posting (cross-posting) a story on Tumblr! Bear with me as I navigate how to link, edit my layout, etc. Though if you do have an tips and/or pointers on how I can make my blog look more appealing, haha, then I’ll take them. Do leave a comment if you enjoyed it!

1

The blueberry gelato you purchased was going to melt soon, but you couldn’t even taste it until Taehyung had some pictures of himself with your gelato and his. Currently, you had snapped over fifty pictures, in different angles, too, and you got out of your seat to take more. The sweltering heat made your baby hairs stick on your forehead and all over your cheeks.

”Okay,” you said, handing his phone back. “What do you think?”

You stood behind his chair as you watched him scroll through the photos one-by-one. Taehyung kept zooming in on his face, only to pinch his fingers back out and focus on a minuscule detail like a wrinkle on the right sleeve of his clothing.

“Can you take more on your phone? Maybe it’ll be different,” he requested, peering up from his device to look at you, his neck craned back.

You ran your fingers through your hair and felt the sweat of your scalp through your fingertips. Although you took a shower this morning, you were going to have to shower again later.

Breathing deeply, you brought your phone out of your back pocket and snapped a picture of him in this position. Taehyung immediately took a scoop of his strawberry gelato and held the spoon to his lips. You took a picture, and another when he closed his eyes but still had the uneaten gelato close to his lips.

Then, a drop fell onto his chin. It dribbled down. You were about to grab a tissue off of the table to give it to him until he mumbled that you should continue. You did as he asked. The sound of the camera shuttering was all you guys heard for the next three minutes as Taehyung continued posing in different positions.  

“You’re welcome,” you said, plopping down onto your chair. You reached for your dessert and found that it was half liquid. You looked over at Taehyung’s gelato; it was in the same state as yours, and you sighed.

Opening up Instagram on your phone, you started to slouch. Posts about vacations in California, Rome, and Beijing filled your timeline. Or was it feed? You were confused by the verbiage ever since Facebook bought Instagram and honestly where was the FAFSA police when you needed them? These "broke" college students shouldn't be out there living it up. And why were they on vacation when you still had two weeks of spring semester left? Did they take their finals early? When you were done, you handed your phone to Taehyung, who took it eagerly.

“Appreciate it,” he said. After browsing through the photos you took of him, he placed your phone down on his lap as he smiled at you. “I mean it. Thank you.”

You observed the silver rings on his fingers as he tapped on the table in a seemingly rhythmic beat. The rings were pretty. Maybe you should copy some of his style.

“You’re going to Korea soon, right?” You leaned back against your chair and splayed out your legs. A trickle of sweat ran past your neck.

It was really hot outside, but Taehyung wore a dark blue dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and had a black t-shirt inside that was revealed when the first two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. He also wore black ripped jeans. Wasn’t it hotter when you wore darker colors? Beauty was pain, you guessed.

“Only for one month in July.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair as well. “Why? Are you going to miss me?”

“No,” You shook your head, “you’re going to miss me.”

At this, Taehyung laughed loudly, his eyes crinkling. “Get KakaoTalk so I can text you without getting charged there.”

”Why? So you can spam my phone with pictures of yourself? You already have a mirror.” You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Also, how can I get KakaoTalk if you have my phone?”

”You mean this?” Taehyung showed your device in his hand, but he made no attempt to give it back to you. “I can just figure out your password.” He was typing in a random combination of numbers until he unlocked your phone successfully.

Startled, you rose up from your seat as he shielded the phone away from you.

“Relax, I’m transferring the photos you took of me to my phone!” he said, huddling himself into a ball. The people around you stared at him briefly before chatting to themselves.

With the slit of your screen showing through the opening in his posture, you glanced down, realizing he was going through your Snapchat messages and replying back with a selfie of himself. How typical.

“Taehyung...” You grasped his shoulder. “I’m not getting Kakao if you’re being like this.” It was a fake threat, but he didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you wanted him to stop because Hoseok was in your contacts and you knew Taehyung wasn’t fond of his step-brother. If Taehyung found out, when he already confessed these deep feelings of disdain about Hoseok to you, then you weren’t sure what he would do. He had a vanity problem already, and some slight possessive attachment in his friendship with you.

However, Taehyung continued mass replying to your friends.

”Taehyung,” you tried again, shaking his shoulder roughly. He didn’t budge. “Alright, I guess I’m gonna get your phone.”

He straightened up and stared at you. “I don’t have anything to hide, (Name). You know me. Do you have something you want to hide?”

“No.” You swore your heart skipped a beat when the lie rolled out your tongue.

“Then we’ll look at my phone together. It’s only fair, right?” There were moments where Taehyung sounded peculiar, and this was one of them. Was it something in his tone, or was it this… aura that he emitted? Either one led you–dare you spoke of it lest you became a bad friend who misinterpreted things and blew them out of proportion–to be cautious of him.

”Here.” Swiping his phone off the table, Taehyung placed it on your palm. ”The password is two, five, six, eight.” He wasn’t taking his hand away from yours, so you inputted with your free hand the code he gave you. The rings on his fingers provided a cool sensation on your skin despite the ongoing heat from the sun.

“You can check my texts," Taehyung suggested. "You can read through them."

You bit the inside of your cheek while you hesitantly tapped on his conversation with Taeyong, a mutual friend. There were Korean characters you couldn't decipher. The words were too advanced, and you only learned the language when Hoseok taught you sporadically. However, you did catch onto these English memes Taehyung and Taeyong shared with each other. You thought you were invading Taeyong's privacy somewhat as Taehyung encouraged you to keep scrolling.

"See, (Name)?" His eyes bore into your own. "I've got nothing to hide."

"Yeah, me too," you blurted back, letting him keep his phone and yours for now. You returned back to your seat.

Friends need to accept all the aspects that come with a person whether good or bad, you reminded yourself of this as Taehyung scrutinized the photos in your camera roll, eyes trained on his appearance and whatever it meant to him as he explored the saturations and color schemes he could use.

You observed your friend for a few more minutes before redirecting your thoughts to the final exams coming up. The stress to think about the exams rather than on the behavior of your friend had eased your mind considerably. Soon, you began to daydream off-topic about fast cars and towering mansions as Taehyung continued to edit his pictures.

Smiling unconsciously, you then remembered how you were a bit vain yourself. You had three thousand, one-hundred-seventy-five dollars and thirty cents to your name before. The rest of the money was in your latest Fila shoes, and in the latest iPad Pro that you cradled to sleep every night. When your three thousand, one-hundred-seventy-five dollars and thirty cents to your name dropped to a staggering fifty-dollars, you had promised for a new year, new you, and you made a resolution to curb your materialistic tendencies in the middle of sweet old July of last year.

“I’m going to change,” you declared to yourself, browsing through self-improvement articles online. You had another tab open, but you swore on your mother’s grave that you were just living vicariously through a YouTuber’s shopping haul and nothing more.

“I’m going to change,” you said to Taeyong and Jimin, your two closest friends, as you all painted random animals on a canvas. Hoping it will restrain the temptations of eating out and watching movies, you tried to love your newest hobby.

But people didn't change easily.

After all, we make money to enjoy money, you would say as you received your paycheck, the thickness of the envelope sending a familiar rush of adrenaline through the palms of your hands.

Soon summer break had ended and you were left daydreaming in your classes about the salary you'd get from becoming a doctor. You’ll have a stable job and a stable life, your mother would remind you in the living room every so often. You would doodle on the edges of your notes and wish that time could past by faster because you were stuck in a world where you were just you and the you then needed to step up from a measly five hundred bucks. Your fingers couldn't sprint against the piano keys as well as Jill, nor could you code websites in your free-time like Mr. Full-Ride classmate Jaehyun, but you did have money and it was what kept you going.

Money was entertainment. Money was activities. Money was the awe-struck gaze your parents looked at you with when you paid for the restaurant bill at a family outing. Money was whatever you wanted it to be, and it was breathtaking, inspiring, motivating, and, damn, your eyes were bleeding green, huh?

“How do you do it?” you had asked. “How are you so happy the majority of the time?”

“I’ll show you how,” Taehyung replied, one hand holding the strap of his backpack. He took out a hand-held mirror from the first zipper and gave it to you. “You have to love yourself.“

"And how do I do this...loving myself thing?”

“(Name), it’s simple.” He sighed, leaning closer to you to observe himself through his own mirror, a light red tint on his cheeks. “You think to yourself, you are everything you ever wanted.” Almost reluctantly, he peered up from the mirror to look at you, but you felt as if he never truly looked away, as if he was still tracing the contours of his nose and the outlines of his eyes, his lips, through the glare of the glasses perched on your nose.

“Beauty is on the inside.” He sighed again, placing a hand over his chest. “But it can also be made.”

You noticed the slight pout on his lips as he stashed the mirror away. He had never changed since high school. Always staring at himself as he walked past anything reflective, anything that resembled him, and you––

You had been snapped out of your memory when Taehyung voiced out a question.

"Should we go now? We have class tomorrow with Professor Smith at nine in the morning."

"Hm?" You blinked. "Ah, yeah, we should."

You threw your gelato in the trash and bidded a goodbye, heading off to your home. Developing a friendship with Taehyung was a journey, to say the least.

[next chapter]

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Thanks in large part to Open Fic Night, there were over 120 new, completed fics posted since the middle of June, which made reading all of them and narrowing down recs quite the undertaking this time around. 

Before I get into what I particularly enjoyed these last couple weeks, let me just say that if you haven’t already, you should definitely check out the full Open Fic Night collection and give lots of love to everyone who took the time to participate and helped to collectively contribute another 600k words of fic to this fandom.

<1k words

Stay, don’t leave by HolmesApothecary (rated G) David Rose grows up. 

Well That’s Not English, Patrick by nilolay (rated T) Whisky helps Patrick write his songs. Whisky does not help Patrick write his vows (but it kinda does).

1-3k words

For All That You Are by Pameluke (rated T) Patrick sees David differently.

Helpless by codswallop (rated M) In the aftermath of a baseball-induced injury, Patrick needs help shaving; David comes to the rescue.

Pagliacci by nilolay (rated M) I promise this story is interesting but I don't want to spoil it by telling you why. Trust Me? ("I think you might have an easier time of it, and maybe a little bit more fun, if you just learn to trust people.")

we’re inches apart, even closer at heart by withkissesfour (not rated) He’s the one in blue. A series of Soft™ prompts, asked on tumblr, because this show makes me Very Soft™

3-5k words

At a Cruel Angle by leupagus (rated E) “What do you bet me?” This stymied David for a minute — but just a minute. “If I win,” he said, fairly wiggling in his seat, “Tomorrow night, we go over to that hotel Stevie and I went to,” he waved vaguely East, “And you have to pay for every karaoke song and drink. The whole night.” “Tomorrow night we have to be back home in order to open the store,” he reminded him. “But I’ll take you next weekend, how about that?” “Acceptable,” David said, grudging. “And if I win,” Patrick continued, “Then next weekend, we come back here… and go see the Elm Valley Common Loons play their home game.” David looked apprehensive. “Is that the—“ “The baseball, yes, I would make you come watch the baseball with me.”

just for us... by startswithhope (rated E) A soft, sexy moment between David and Patrick takes a turn into fantasy when they begin to talk about David's past experiences at a few gay bars.

now you see me by grapehyasynth (rated T) Stevie sets David up on a blind date.

Patrick Brewer has a boyfriend by sloganeer (rated E) Patrick had a boyfriend. Patrick never had a boyfriend before. He’d been a boyfriend, but that wasn’t at all the same thing.

we’re on each other’s team by drinkingstars (rated E) Intellectually, David knows it’s just fucking, and it shouldn’t mean anything has changed for them. But he can feel that it has.

5-10k words

101 by Hth (rated E) Still, it's true that Patrick can have his shy side. He likes to be a gentleman – Mr. Order Whatever You Want I'm Paying and Mr. Here Let Me Fix That For You and Mr. No David Not In the Backseat I Want It to Be Special – so David can't entirely rely on Patrick's willingness to charge forward for the greater good.

like a bird taking way by oh_la_fraise *Alexis/Ted* (rated G) Alexis makes a new friend, Ted learns to play guitar, and the Mullens-Perez feud comes to its inevitable conclusion.

Reunion by JessX2231 (rated G) David joins Patrick at his high school reunion

Rose, Alexis Rose by whetherwoman *Alexis/Ted* (rated G) Alexis just wants David to have a nice, relaxing day before his wedding. At least, until Ted goes missing.

The Sidelines by wildhoneypie (rated T) An AU where David becomes a wedding and event planner after the Roses lose everything. And Patrick is still...Patrick. With apologies for anachronisms, as I haven't seen the latest season.

you’ll find many ways to say i love you by goingmywaydoll (rated T) Budget spreadsheets, baby photos, wine tastings, and other things that happen on a Sunday.

10k+ words

Cards on the Table by bigficenergy (rated M) “I… feel something for you.” It's vague, but it's a start. “Um, something? Like… a general disdain, or...?” Patrick laughs. “Uh, nope. Kind of the opposite of that.” An AU where Patrick tells David upfront that he's developing feelings for him, in the interest of being honest as they go into business together.

holy sick divine by earlylight (rated T) He looks up to catch David watching him, a soft smile on his face, golden-cast in the warm light that’s suddenly filling the office, dust motes wheeling a scintillating symphony around him, and Patrick can’t help but let slip a kind of hushed, reverent, what are you? In the space of a second, the room is back to normal. Almost as if he’d dreamed it. David cocks his head, puzzled, evidently considering the question. “Hungry,” he decides. AU. One fateful night, Patrick meets a boy who’s literally out of this world. Unfortunately, winning David Rose’s heart involves entirely too much paperwork – but the pen is mightier than the sword, and by god does Patrick know how to use it.

i would give all this (and heaven too) by wardo_wedidit (rated E) "It sounds ridiculous to think when they’re literally on a spaceship, but David dresses like he’s from the future. It’s the first thing Patrick notices." Or, Patrick wins a ticket onto the first civilian voyage to populate New Earth, and he's determined to face his fears and change his life. The one thing he didn't plan on was David Rose.

Slowly I Turn, or, Niagara Falls by CartWrite (rated E) Even though David has volunteered to spearhead the wedding planning and should be good at it, he has been utterly paralyzed when it's come to making any decisions. And now he has to spend the weekend with Patrick's parents visiting some tourist trap and he is not okay.

Sometimes Good Things Fall Apart by blueink3 (rated M) What if David and Patrick didn’t survive the Rachel reveal? What if David fell back into destructive behavior and a pattern of bad relationships? What if, to get out of a bad relationship, he calls on the one person who actually truly cared about him?

[x-reader-theater]

Can I Tell You a Secret?

Relationship: Peter Parker X Male!Cuban!Reader

Summary: You ‘work’ for the daily bugle. You are an intern there, have been for a few years, and you weren’t getting paid for how many photos you had taken. You wanted more, wanted more for how much you worked, you wanted to get paid. That led you to your most dangerous stunt yet. Climbing the Empire State Building. 

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 7,692

A/N: Hey guys. So, I know I’ve posted fuck all these last few months, but I was in a really bad place for a while, and Queen was a terrible remembrance of it all. Anyways, I got this idea while playing the Spider-Man game, and wrote it in like three days XD Also, I’m really sad you can’t center stuff on Tumblr ;( Please like and reblog if you like it, and leave a comment to let me know what you think!

This was your most dangerous stunt yet, and it was just past midnight. The city is beautiful at this time of night, and that's exactly why you needed to be up here. The shot was perfect for the front cover of the Daily Bugle, and maybe, just maybe, it would get you on their payroll. Finally. You had been an intern for them for two years now, nonstop, taking photographs, putting yourself in danger, and they have given nothing to you in return. 

That is why you are currently scaling the Empire State building. 

You feel your arms shaking, hauling yourself another foot above the ground below. You feel your foot slipping, and you course-correct quickly, not looking to become the next Evelyn McHale. Well, whatever the male version of that is, and much less beautiful. You feel your muscles straining against your bones, tightening like cords that hold up a bridge, waiting to snap at any moment. Your feet are numb, ice-like, threatening to shatter if you miss a single step. Your fingers are raw, ragged, bleeding, leaving a trail as you climb. You're dizzy, the nausea of being this high up, and the change of looking up and then down, and then back up again has your head reeling. You feel yourself shaking, a naked penguin in the Arctic, the building is your melting ice block, and you are the penguin. Your hair is whipping above you, falling into your eyes, and the out, and in and out, over and over, so fast it's making you blind for precious moments, and you have to stop. You don't know when you stopped thinking. 

Finally, at long last, your fingers touch soft metal, and you look up to see the slanted top of the building. You grin as you grab one of the seams, pulling yourself up and over the ledge. You drag yourself up, using the slight incline to get a better angle at climbing and drag yourself up there. In only a few minutes, you've reached the top. 

You made sure to check the weather for the day, made sure the fog was clear and there were no clouds in the sky. You also made sure the smog levels were low. 

And you sure are glad you did. 

Hanging off the antenna, you watch the millions of lights blinking in and out of existence on the skyline, the glowing buildings like glow sticks, making the sky bright with light pollution. You reach behind you, into your backpack, and take out your camera, and put it up to your eye. Almost… but not quite… if you just tilted a little more… 

You snap the picture, and your fingers slip. 

The first thing you feel is air, and it feels like you're falling in slow motion, the world passing slowly by you, the city a blur in the distance. And then it's hard, cold metal that bruises your skin. You hold your camera up, trying to save it, but you're sliding down the side of the building. You feel the skin being scraped off your arm, the burn of friction that's hurting you. You grunt as you slam into the slightly raised side of the roof, and you go flying. It's quite freeing as you fall, and you close your eyes, holding your arms out, waiting for the impact. 

It's a lot softer, and sooner than you expect. 

You're still flying through the air, and you suck some breath into your wind-less lungs, and you open your eyes. You come face to face with the white lenses of Spider-Man. You gasp, your grip faltering on your camera for a moment, but you hold onto it, your hands shaking with the pressure you're putting on the plastic. 

Spider-Man shoots out a web, and pulls himself onto a building, panting gracefully on the loose gravel of a New York City rooftop in the middle of Manhattan. You stumble as he lets your feet drop, and you grab onto his biceps. He places a steadying hand on your back, but only for a moment, before pulling it back. You walk back a couple of steps and look down at your camera. You flick through the pictures you had taken today, and when you see the picture you just took, you let out a whoop of happiness. Spider-Man looks genuinely surprised by it. 

"What is wrong with you! You almost just died and you're cheering? What were you doing up there!" He demands, and you just turn the camera around to show him the picture. "All this just for some picture?" 

You scoff and turn the camera around again, looking at the beautiful art you just created. "Just some photo?" You ask with malice. "This isn't just some photo!" Your expression softens as you zoom in on STARK Tower. "This is going to get me hired…" You trail off quietly. 

"So you put yourself in incredible danger, just to get hired! How stupid are you?" Spider-Man shoots back. 

You narrow your eyes. "Says the guy who leaps off buildings on a daily basis." 

You can't tell if he rolled his eyes or not, but with the way the lenses tensed, and his tone, you're almost sure he did. You put your camera away as he starts talking. "But I have powers!" 

"But some of us have to do whatever we can to survive." 

That seemed to shut him up, and you turn to walk away. He calls out to you, "Can I give you a ride home?" You look around and smile at where you were. 

"I'm already home. Thanks for the ride Spidey." You give him a wave and go towards the end of the building. 

"W-what's your name!" He calls out, a hand raised in the air. 

"[Y/N]! [Y/N] [L/N]!" You call back. "Remember it! It's gonna be all over the papers one day!" And with that, you climb down the fire escape to the fourth-floor window and crawl inside.  

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

You didn't see the masked hero again since that night. It had been almost two weeks, and there wasn't a sign of him. Bringing the picture to the Daily Bugle, you were almost fired for the recklessness it took to capture the image, but you instead were promoted, from unpaid intern to a paid one. It wasn't much, but it was better than what you were getting before. Still, you weren't given any meaningful work. You had been assigned to fluff pieces, taking pictures of random places in New York. It wasn't what you wanted to do. You wanted action, to be in the middle of everything, to see first hand what it all really was like. 

You still climbed buildings, taking beautiful pictures of New York's life, you even climbed the Empire State building again, but you never saw him. Sure, you saw Spider-Man in passing, maybe swinging through the city, or saving someone from getting hit. But you're never able to get a good picture of it. It's either blurry, or he's not facing the correct way. You're also just not close enough to get anything worthwhile. 

That all changed however when you were walking home one night, the subway only a few blocks from your apartment. You had just gotten done with a shift at the Daily Bugle, and we're going home to finish some of your homework from that day, when you feel a hand on your arm. You look to see who the person is, but they hide their face, pulling you into a dark alleyway, away from prying eyes. You struggle, trying to leave his grasp, but even after two weeks, and even in those two weeks, your muscles still hurt from climbing. 

The man pushes you up against the wall, and you feel his fingers reaching up to your neck. You know it's a man because he speaks a second later. "Mmm. My my, aren't you a pretty one." His voice is deep, and his breath reeks of alcohol. From his words, you assume you aren't the first one he's done this to. "What's a pretty boy like you doing all the way out here?" He asks. You just lean your head away from him and go to scream. He grabs your face roughly and forces you to look at him. "You make a noise and I kill you, here and now." You feel the knife poking at your stomach. 

You whimper, an undignified noise escaping you, but you don't have the will to keep some dignity. You are scared. 

The man leans in, placing his lips to your jaw, but just for a moment. That moment ends when he's pulled away from you. You press yourself to the wall, expecting the knife to enter your stomach, but nothing comes. You open your eyes to see the man hanging upside-down, webs covering his body like a cacoon, and a white web-like film covering his mouth to keep him from talking. You look around and slowly start taking your camera from your backpack. 

That's when you hear it, light feet touching the ground behind you, and you whirl around. 

Standing, silhouetted against the street light, you see Spider-Man, looking down at something in his hands. You raise your camera to your eye and take a picture. 

The flash goes off, and you see what he's holding in his hands. It's the knife the man had, the one that was pressed to your stomach. 

You see him jump in surprise, and the knife drops onto the ground. You don't lower your camera, even as footsteps approach you. You just take another picture. From the flash, you see Spider-Man rushing forwards, and you go to take another picture when something takes your camera and fills it away from your face. 

"Hey!" You shout, but Spider-Man already has your camera. You go to walk towards him, but he holds up a hand. For some reason, you stop. 

He's looking through the pictures, his mask illuminated by the digital light of the screen. "Oh! You're that guy that climbed the Empire State! [Y/N], right? These are really good!" He exclaims suddenly. You blink at him, shocked. "Well, except for these two you just took… I mean, I look like a gremlin!" 

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Well, it's not like you're easy to take a picture of…" You mutter to yourself. 

Spider-Man chuckles. "Why do you want a picture so badly?" 

"They see me as a liability, my pictures aren't worth the pain I go through to get them. I need them to see I'm not a liability, but an asset," you say. You don't know why you're pouring your heart out to him, but it's Spider-Man. How could you not? He's just trustworthy. 

He walks closer and hands you your camera back. You grab it and look up at him. Your heart clenches, and tears pick at the corner of your eyes. "Well, maybe I can help you?" He offers. Your eyes widen, startled. "Yeah, yeah! I could swing by you, take the pictures from up high for you. You know, keep you out of trouble!" 

You nod, slowly at first, and then faster. "Yeah, yeah that could work!" You reach forward and envelop him in a hug. He doesn't hug you back but slowly squeezes his arms around you. 

You pull back and clear your throat, cough into your fist, and look down at the ground. "So, uh, I'll- I'll see you around?" 

Spider-Man nods. "Yeah. You should… probably stay here to call the police, and give a report." 

You nod as well. He gives you a two-fingered salute and shoots off. You raise your camera one last time and take a picture. He turns his head back and poses for you. You let a chuckle escape your lips, before you drop your camera, stuffing it into your bags and pulling out your phone. You call the police. 

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

You sit on the roof of your building, leaning back on your hands, the gravel digging into your fingers, the sun shining on your skin. You close your eyes, just taking it in. You take a deep breath, and cough slightly, laughing as you open your eyes. The sky is clear today, one of the few clear days in Brooklyn. You hear the crunching of gravel behind you and turn around. You pick up your camera and stand up to greet Spider-Man. 

"Hey!" He calls out, waving to you. You wave back and he jogs to you. "So, what do you need today?" He asks. 

You shrug. "Well, all they've been giving me are fluff pieces, things that don't require beautiful pictures. But I do want to get something of you, a nice photo, something simple, I dunno…" you trail off, not knowing how to end it. 

Spider-Man nods and takes a step towards the edge of the building. "Well, how about this?" He steps off the side, and your eyes go wide in fear for just a moment, before realizing he's Spider-Man, and he's definitely okay. You raise your camera, and just as he pops out from the building, you take the picture. No flash this time, it was bright enough outside. You grin as Spider-Man does it again, a different pose this time, and then again. You get about six pictures before he lands on the gravel roof, ducking and rolling, and popping up right in front of you, his mask filling the camera's lens. You lower the camera, and grin as the masked hero stands in front of you. You can see the outlines of a goofy grin underneath his mask. What a dork. 

"That was perfect!" You exclaim, excited. 

"Good! Okay! What now?" He asks. He sounds a little out of breath, but that's probably typical. 

"Can you help me get some shots of the city? I don't want to, but if I want to keep my job…" You hand the camera over to him, but he pushes it away. 

"No, no, I'm not taking those. You have to take them," he says simply. You go to say something, but it escapes your mind, so you just close your mouth again. Spider-Man holds out one of his hands. "Here. I'll take you. And I'll make sure you don't fall off again." 

You hesitantly grab his hand. "What are you gonna do? Carry me by the wrist?" 

He chuckles. "Not exactly…" He holds up a hand, and motions towards your waist. You nod and he places a steady hand there, strong and commanding, the hold of someone who knew what he was doing. You put your camera away in your backpack and wrap your arms around his neck. His suit is really soft…

That's the last thought you had before your feet are lifted off the ground, and you're flying eight stories above Brooklyn. You gasp and cling tighter to him, but the hand on your waist kept you pretty much in place. He was strong. You wouldn't really know unless he showed it. He was lithe, had the body of a runner, with good proportions. You shake your head. Why the hell are you thinking about proportions? You're flying through the air! 

You grip tighter onto Spider-Man, sort of wrapping your legs around his waist, and the hand on your own hips tightens ever so slightly. You push your face into his neck.

Suddenly, you stop, and you slowly open your eyes. You're looking out at a beautiful, clear day, with clouds overlooking the city. In front of you is Stark Tower, a stark contrast to the rest of the city with its high tech blues and silvers. The shadow it creates over the streets is jarring, and it takes you out of the picture. Still, you stare, watching as clouds disappear like streaks from a paintbrush, the blue covering the white after layers upon layers of paint, like it's trying to erase a mistake. 

You slowly pull out your camera, and take a picture, making sure to get the magnitude of the building just right, enough to make it look imposing. You pull the camera back and bring up the picture on the digital face. Spider-Man leans in to take a look at it. 

"Beautiful," He says quietly. You can hear his muffled voice in your ear. You look over at him, and he's staring at the building. 

You scoff. "It's ugly. The beauty of New York City is its old buildings, the people who have been here for decades, telling their stories, the old monuments that give the city vibrancy." You feel Spider-Man stiffen around you. "Dude, it's okay. We can have our different opinions." You feel him relax slightly. "We don't have to talk about it anymore…" You look down, and your vision suddenly becomes sideways, before going back to normal, but the pit in your stomach is still there, and the ground looks miles below you now. Your grip on Spider-Man's shoulders tightens, and you gulp. 

"Can we- can we please get on solid ground again? Please?" You beg. Spider-Man looks down at you, his lenses wide. He nods quickly, and soon, you're in the air again. You push your face into the crook of his neck again, shaking slightly as you feel the wind pass by you, and the dropping and rising of your stomach is jarring. 

After what feels like an excruciating number of hours, but what was only probably a short and painless five minutes, you feel gravel underneath your feet. You sigh in relief, but you don't move, and Spider-Man doesn't look like he's willing to move either. 

"Thank you," you whisper, before pulling back. Spider-Man just nods and takes his own step back, though his hands linger on your waist for just a moment, like he doesn't want to let go. 

You give a wave, and he gives his signature lazy, two-fingered salute, before jumping off the building backward, and zipping off into the air, turning behind a building. You stand there and just look for a few moments, a pleasant smile on your face, before turning around and going inside. 

You get a weird feeling like you're being watched. 

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

It had been two weeks since you took those first photos with Spider-Man. Since then, you had taken more photos with Spider-Man, been promoted to head Spider-Man photographer at the Daily Bugle, and gotten a raise. You now got thirteen dollars an hour, more than enough money for a high school student, and more money than you've ever had before. It was an incredible feeling to get your first paycheck, to be able to say you made some of your own money. And what did you do with that money? Well, you had Spider-Man get you the best Chinese food in town, and you paid for it. 

Right now, you were sitting with your legs dangling off the edge of some random building in Queens, sitting next to Spider-Man, eating Chinese food. He had his mask pulled up to his nose, and right now, you were just staring. He was white, definitely, pale, not like most people in Brooklyn. Almost everyone was a minority, though there were a few trans people who lived here who were white, but that was about it. All you could see were his lips, and damn your brain if they didn't look like the most kissable lips...

He looks over at you. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He reaches up with a gloved hand, palming at one of the lenses. 

You smile and shake your head. "No no." 

Spider-Man rolls his eyes. "Take a picture… it'll last longer…" he mumbles. You bump his arm with yours, and you both laugh. 

You sit in silence for a few moments, the two of you just eating. Spider-Man stops for a moment and looks over at you, the lenses of his mask narrowing slightly. "What school do you go to?" 

You finish your bite, chewing and putting your chopsticks down. You swallow first before talking. Your mama didn't raise you to be impolite. "I'm sorry, what?" You ask, confused by the question. 

"I asked what school you go to." You narrow your eyes. "Just because- well- I haven't seen you around anywhere, so I just figured you don't go where I go." 

"Where do you go, Spider-Man?" You ask back. 

He leans in closer. "I asked you first." 

You roll your eyes and lean back slightly. "Alright, alright. I go to Brooklyn High." 

Spider-Man's eyes go wide, and the white of the lenses take up more space than the black. "The one on 42nd Street? Where the principal has a crossbow? My friend, he told me about it, and I said it's just a myth but he kept insisting, said he knew someone there who told him and everything! Is it true? Does he have a crossbow!" 

You laugh quietly at his excitedness, but you pull a straight face to say as seriously as you can, "Yes it's true. I've seen it myself. Held it in my own hands…" You mime holding up a crossbow and shooting it, pulling your arms up to mimic recoil. 

"Whoa, that's so cool! I'll have to tell Ned about that! He's gonna be so excited!" He rambles. 

"Okay, my turn. I asked you. Where do you go to school?" 

He paused for a moment, thinking, considering his answer, before finally giving it. "Midtown High."

"Huh. Smart cookie." You poke him in the shoulder. "Must be smart to have this suit." 

"Oh, I didn't build it. Mr. Stark made it for me." You tense at the name, but he just continues talking. "He's so cool. He made all this stuff for me, and when I was a little younger, he took it away from me for a bit- but that's-that's another story for another time- Are you okay?" He turns and looks at you, stock still, unmoving. You can hear the blood roaring in your ears, and your heart is pounding away in your chest. You don't say anything, but you feel something touch your shoulder, gently, so as not to startle you. It's a hand, a gloved hand, Spider-Man's gloved hand. 

You nod, shaking yourself out of your own thoughts. "Yeah yeah, I'm okay." 

"Was- was it something I said?" Spider-Man asks quietly, all excitement gone from his voice. 

"No- well, maybe? Yes?" It's more of a question than an answer. "Just- it's about Tony, Stark." Spider-Man doesn't say anything, just waits for you to continue. "My dad, he was stationed in Afghanistan. Stark was selling weapons to both sides, to keep the war going, so he could sell more weapons. He was trying to get civilians out of a small town that was about to be blown up by the opposing side when suddenly his own man turned a gun on him and told him not to stop him, to let him run. My father couldn't do that and was killed by a Stark branded gun. When the bombs dropped, his body exploded in the impact. We never got to bury him." 

Spider-Man seems to deflate at that, his shoulders sinking at your story. He hesitantly places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. "Is that why you hate Stark Tower?" He asks quietly. 

You lean your head into the crook of his neck, placing a hand next to his thigh. "Part of it. The other part is that it's just a goddamn ugly building. Like, look!" You point it out, sticking out of the comparatively smaller buildings all the way across the east river, though it wasn't hard to miss. "Just look at it. So out of place. Like, couldn't you have gotten a cool, bigger on the inside studio apartment in like, Soho or something?" You joke. Spider-Man laughs at it as well. You reach your hand up and place it onto his chest, right next to the symbol of the spider. You reach up and feel the cold metal chill your fingertips. You shiver, and the arm around you tightens. Neither of you pulls away. 

It's perfect. 

You watch the people on the street pass you by, not looking up, so engrossed in their own world they can't be bothered to look away from their phones. You sigh a deep breath of relief and swear you feel the phantom brush of a kiss on the top of your head. You smile and snuggle closer as the night time air of New York starts to blow in, sending a chill up your spine. 

You and Spider-Man sit like that for hours, your dinners long forgotten. 

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

The last few days had been weird. You hadn't seen Spider-Man at all in that time. Well, you had seen him swinging around, saving people and the city, and you got a few good shots of him, but none you could send to your boss. You were on thin ice now anyways. 

You and your writer MJ were talking about a new article you could publish, another glowing review of Spider-Man, when the Editor in Chief walked in. J. Jonah Jameson, the head honcho of the Bugle, mustache, cigar and all, came strolling into your admittedly not very private meeting at MJ's desk. He demanded that you write something scathing about Spider-Man instead, something horrendous that would get the public on his side. You knew about JJJ's views about Spider-Man, and frankly, you were not a fan. He walked away without another word, and the two of you started talking about a new idea. It went a little something like this: 

SPIDER-MAN'S HATERS AND THEIR VILLAINOUS PORTRAYALS! IS IT JUSTIFIED?

Written by Michelle J. Waterson

Photography by [Y/N] [L/N]

It was your best article yet, and the public thought it was too. In the first two days, over a thousand people had clicked on it. You and MJ had a doughnut celebration at her desk, just laughing and talking for both your lunch breaks, before you both got back to work, her writing another story and you going through and meticulously editing your photos. 

Today though, we slightly different. Mostly because as soon as you signed into work, you were knocked over. 

"Ah!" You exclaim as you topple over onto the ground. You feel pain shoot up your shoulder, and you roll onto your back, gripping your arm. You hear someone curse next to you, and then footsteps approach you. Looking over, you see a man, well, boy. He couldn't be much older than you, probably your age, with brown eyes and hair. He holds out a hand, and you reach up with your good arm. He grips your hand and pulls you up onto your feet with a surprising amount of strength, strength you wouldn't know he had just by looking at him. He looks at you with apologetic eyes. There was also a bit of shock in them. 

"Ah shit," he mutters under his breath. You raise an eyebrow as your hand goes back to your hurt shoulder. "I-I mean about that! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going!" He exclaims. His voice is familiar. Your eyes narrow. 

"It's… fine…" you say, hesitant. 

He walks over to you, close enough to reach, but he doesn't. He hesitates before putting his hand down. He puts it back up again, but not to touch you, but to shake hands. "I'm Parker Peter- uh no, I'm Peter. Parker." His voice is shaking slightly. 

You take his hand and shake it once. His grip is strong. "[Y/N] [L/N]."

"I-I know. I've been following your photography for a while now. You take amazing pictures of Spider-Man," he says. 

"Thanks…" You say cautiously. "What are you doing here Peter?" 

His eyes light up. "Oh! I just got an internship here!" 

You scoff. "Good luck." 

He just nods, and you lean down to pick up your backpack. You give him a wave, and walk away, frowning as you try and place that voice. 

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

You fiddle with your camera settings, taking random pictures as you look up at the brightly lit night sky, only the moon visible tonight. You swing your legs back and forth, humming to yourself and clicking your tongue to some made upbeat in your head. You had been sitting outside every night for the last four nights, and every night, he still hadn't come. For three weeks, you haven't seen him. You were starting to think he didn't care about you. 

"Hey." 

You jump, yelping as you slip off the back of the ledge, and fall onto the gravel, on your butt. You groan and look up to see Spider-Man holding a hand down to you. You take it and he pulls you up onto your feet. 

"Thanks for that," You say sarcastically. 

"Sorry sorry," he says laughing, putting his hands up. You just chuckle along with him. "So, what's on the agenda today? Or I guess 'tonight'?" 

You shrug. "I dunno. I was playing with the settings on my camera, and I really want to do a long shutter speed photo. You know, like the ones where the cars are just streaks of light?" 

He nods. "Do you know where you wanna take the picture?" You shake your head. "Well, what about the Brooklyn Bridge? It's predictable, but it's really beautiful at night. We could find a nice building, sit there for a while?" 

You smile and nod, grabbing your backpack from the ground, and slinging it over your shoulder, deftly putting your camera away. You hold out your arms like a little kid, and Spider-Man chuckles, walking over to you and wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You slide your own around his neck, and he jumps. You both tumble over the side of the building, and you have to shut your eyes. You bury your face in his neck and just stay there. The wind passes by you, chilling you to the bone, and you squeeze tighter. You feel yourself shaking from the cold, the small droplets of water from the fog felt like ice shards hitting your skin, and you feel yourself shaking. You try and get as close to Spider-Man as possible. 

Suddenly, you feel ground beneath you. Hard ground, not gravel like a lot of the building's roofs, but nice concrete. You sigh in relief and pull away from Spider-Man, pad along the roof, and get to the edge of the building, the corner that's overlooking the bridge. You take out your camera and tripod and spend five minutes setting it up, getting it right, and pushing the button. 

You quickly turn around and see Spider-Man sitting cross-legged on the concrete, and rush over to join him. When you're fully situated in the ground, you go to say something, but close your mouth, letting you two enjoy the silence. You wouldn't say you enjoyed it, as it was quite tense. You both had pretended like nothing had even happened like he hadn't just left you for two weeks without notice. You knew you weren't entitled to it, but you hoped that you were close enough, that he would at least tell you. You don't know how he feels about the silence, but with the two of you so far apart from each other, it still feels wrong. 

You start shivering slightly, pressing your hands on your arms, trying to converse heat. Something moves behind you, and you realize his hand has enveloped yours, and he's now pushing you closer to him, to his side. You slide over so you're touching, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He rests his head on yours. 

It's you who breaks the silence first. 

"Why were you gone for so long? I was worried…" You stop yourself, not wanting to finish the sentence. You knew what you were going to say. 'I was worried you were hurt, or worse, dead.' 

You hear him sigh, feel his chest rise next to yours. "I'm sorry. I was busy." 

You shake your head. "Busy with what?" 

"Stuff… things…" 

"Things you can't tell me, or things you won't?" 

Silence from Spider-Man. It's an answer in and of itself. 

You sigh. "I thought that might be what it is." 

"I really want to! I just can't…" 

You look up at him from your place on his shoulder. "I know. I understand. There's a lot I haven't told you…" You sigh and rest your forehead in the crook of his neck. "I hate secrets," you mumble out, your words muffled by the suit. "I hate keeping them. I hate when they're kept from me." You look back up at him, at the soulless lenses that covered his eyes. The black around the white would move, allowing for some expression to be read, but you really wished you could actually look into his eyes, to see what he was thinking about, how he was feeling. "But I guess that makes me a hypocrite. I keep too many of my own secrets to have anyone tell me about theirs." 

There's silence for a moment, and you see his lenses flicker, almost as if they were looking down, towards something, something below your nose. Your cheeks burn even warmer in the cold air, and only your face feels hot as you reach up with one hand. 

He doesn't try and stop you as you pull his mask up to just above his nose. You don't go further than that. 

"I was scared..." he whispers quietly.

"Why were you scared?" You whisper back. 

"Because I like you…" 

You don't answer. You just lean in. 

His lips are soft, wet, most likely from his breath and being inside a mask all day. Reaching up with one hand, you gently lay it on his soft cheek, and on part of the bunched up mask. You see the lenses close, and you follow suit, closing your own eyes. You feel a gentle hand on your back, the one on your arm had left, and was now slowly pushing on your lower back. You see darkness behind your eyes, no light, no bridge, no city. Just you, and Spider-Man. You take a breath in through your nose and shift slightly, deepening the kids more. Your other hand mirrors the one already on his face, and you run your thumbs across his cheekbones. You turn your body so it's more comfortable to kiss him, and you practically sit in his lap to get a good angle. His free hand goes to your hip, gripping it tight. 

You're the first to pull away, gasping slightly at the cold air. You don't dare open your eyes. For a moment, you feel Spider-Man's breath on your lips, but then it's gone. You open your eyes, and he's turned away from you. You use one of your hands to push him back, so he's looking at you. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper, a sky smile on your face. He nods, silent, not daring to make a sound for fear of shattering the moment into a bunch of tiny, silver, mirrored pieces, reflecting them back on the both of you, mocking you and tormenting you with humiliation at what you just did. You didn't feel humiliated. In fact, you felt relieved. "I like you too…" 

He kisses you again. 

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

The next night, you're sitting on your windowsill, looking out the open window into the loud New York night. You don't have your camera in your hands, nor your backpack near you. You just sit there, empty-handed, still, just watching everything pass you by. The fire escape blocks part of your view though. You rest your head back on your window, and think about the day, about going into work, about MJ questioning you on why you were so happy. You bumped into Peter today, who also looked really happy. You talked for a little bit, and the entire time, again, you couldn't get that voice out of your head. You were terrible at placing voices. 

You sigh as you shake your head. It didn't matter right now. 

You turn to look at your door, and when you look back, someone's on your fire escape. You slap a hand over your mouth before you can scream, and your eyes go wide as you gasp. 

"Spidey? What are you doing here!" You whisper shout to him, trying to keep your voice down. He bends down so he's eye-level with you. 

"You weren't on the roof! I was worried about you!" He whispers back. You roll your eyes and move out of the windowsill, beckoning him to step inside. As soon as he does, you close the window behind him and pull up his mask. You kiss him. He hesitates for a moment, before placing his hands on your hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile as you pull away. "I missed you," he mutters. You smile and just kiss him again. 

He squeezes your hips, and you pull away with a wry smile. He tries to chase your lips, but you put a finger on his, causing him to kiss them. You laugh quietly and pull your hand away, going to kiss him again, but there's a knock at your door. 

"¿[Y/N]? ¿estas ahi?" You hear your mother call from the other side of the door. 

Your eyes go wide, and you look at Spider-Man, who's own lenses are wide as well. You open your mouth to speak but close it, looking at him in panic. He just stares at you. You turn over your shoulder and call back, "¡Un momento mamá!" You push him towards your closet, opening the door and shoving him in. He closes the door on himself and you take your shirt off, hoping it would convince your mom you were in the middle of getting dressed. 

The door opens, and your mom walks in. "¿Por qué estás tan rojo?" Is the first thing she asks. 

You wince slightly, and you pray that it's not enough for her to notice. "Es realmente caliente mamá." You fan yourself with your hand, and let out some air, pretending like you're trying to cool off. 

"¡Entonces abre una ventana! ¡Está frío afuera!" She walks over to your window and opens it up. A gust of cold air rushes in, and you shiver. "Y ponte una camisa. Vas a atrapar tu muerte." She picks up the shirt you just tossed onto the ground and throws it at you. She walks to your door, and grabs the handle, walking out as she starts to pull it closed. She stops and leans her head in. "Hice Ropa Vieja. Consigue un poco antes de que se enfríe o no vas a cenar." She closes the door, but not all the way. She leaves a little sliver of it open, and you sigh, knowing it's to prevent you from doing anything stupid. 

You walk over to the closet and open the door. Looking around, you don't see anything, until Spider-Man drops down from the ceiling. You reach a hand out and place it onto his shoulder, and the up onto his cheek. He put his mask back down. 

"Maybe we should try again tomorrow?" You whisper with a small laugh. Spider-Man sighs. "It's a Holiday, I don't have work, we can do whatever you want." 

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in. "What if I just want to lay on your bed with you?" 

You smile and kiss his masked cheek. "Then that's what we'll do." 

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

You sit at your messy desk, staring at your computer. Well, you weren't staring so much as frowning. It was a picture you had taken a few weeks ago, and you didn't really know what to do with it. You had changed the colour, brightness, and even the contrast, but nothing seemed to be 'right' for it. It was a picture of Spider-Man. He was small on the picture, only taking up a small portion of the otherwise large photo, but he was against a plain building, with sectioned off, blue windows. It was a beautiful photo if you did say so yourself, but you couldn't figure out what you wanted to do with it. You tried making the colour more vibrant, but it made the city look to pretty to be real. The contrast just made it look fake, and the brightness was either too light or too dark. 

Nothing helped. 

You're broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your window opening, and in a panic, you close your computer. Looking up, you see the same man you were just looking at on your computer, staring back at you. You let out a breath and smile back as Spider-Man crawls in through the window, closing it behind him. You stand up out of your chair, and he walks over to you. You push up his mask and kiss him. 

"How are you?" He asks as he hugs you. 

"I'm fine. Busy, but fine. How are you?" You ask back, returning the hug. 

He just sighs. "Tired." 

He sounds tired, and you pull away from the hug. You hold out your hand, and he grabs it, letting you lead him to the bed, where you sit down. He follows suit, and you lay down. You open your arms, and he flops down into them, letting you hold him. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask. He shakes his head. "Okay," is all you say in response. 

You just lay there, holding him, letting him relax in your arms, and you don't press him don't try and get him to talk, just give him the space to if he needs it. And he does, eventually, though it isn't what you were expecting. 

"Why have you never asked who I am?" 

You're taken aback by the question, and you think to yourself about his question. "I-I don't know… I guess I never needed to know. You've always just been Spider-Man. I didn't really need to know who you were." You reply honestly. 

He looks up at you, his mask pulled all the way down. You can't read the mask. "Do you want to?" 

You open your mouth to speak, but you stop yourself, halting the words before they can move past your lips, like a dam blocking a waterfall. Immediately, you want to say 'yes', but do you really? Do you really want to know who he is, maybe ruin this? You tell yourself nothing could ruin what you had, but you couldn't lie to yourself. What if he was someone you hated? You didn't know many people from Midtown High, but of the ones you do know, you only like two, and one you barely even know. So, you rethink what you're going to say, and slowly say it. 

"I don't… know…" you answer sincerely. You place a hand on his masked cheek. "I truly don't know. What if you're someone I know, someone I don't like. Even if you weren't, what if you're someone I don't know? We know barely anything about each other. What if… what if I don't like you?" You look away, and your hand drops from his face. You turn, and lay on your back, pulling your arms in so they're over your stomach. It's protective. 

"I-" Spider-Man cuts himself off, looks away, and then looks back at you. "I want you to know." It's simple. But it's also a question. I want you to know, but I won't force you. It's also a matter of fact. I don't think I could go on with you not knowing. It's also a hesitation. Are you sure you don't want to know? I'm putting myself out there so you can know, are you sure you don't? 

You look over at him, and sit up, leaning against the wall, so you're more or less upright. "Okay." 

"Okay?" He sounds excited, but like he's trying to hide it. You can't help but smile. 

You let out a breathy laugh as you confirm, "Yeah. Okay." 

He sits up opposite you, and he grabs at his mask. He doesn't pull. 

"You know, I always expected this to be a lot more dramatic. Maybe I'm hurt and you need to heal me, and in order to help you take off my mask!" He exclaims, and you laugh. "Or maybe it comes off while I'm trying to save you, and you swoon over me!" You laugh harder at that, at knowing he probably has a really goofy grin underneath his mask. 

"Just, take it off already! Before I change my mind!" You exclaim in between laughs. 

The smile drops from both your faces, and Spider-Man takes a deep breath. He reaches up, grabs the top of his mask, and pulls. 

"Peter Parker?" You ask, just confused. "Wait hold on, that's why I recognized your voice!" He just looks at you, confused at your reaction. "I would have never thought it was you!" 

"W-what? Why?" He asks, not knowing what to say. 

"Well, Peter's like, nerdy, clumsy. I mean, for God's sake, you bumped into me your first day!" You exclaim, a laugh bubbling up behind your lips. "And well, Spider-Man… well, he's…" You trail off, and mutter quietly, almost quiet enough where he can't hear, "sexy." Your cheeks flame up, and you want to die from how embarrassed you feel, but when you look up at the man in front of you, he's also blushing. 

"Wait, really?" He asks. 

Your cheeks go even hotter. "W-well, yeah. It's hard not to think that when you're in a skintight suit…" 

Peter just laughs and leans forward. "Can I tell you a secret?" 

You nod and he gets even closer to your lips, so close they're brushing up against each other. You've never seen him this confident. 

"The secret is… I feel the same way." 

[ravenbrenna09]

Unattainable - Chapter One - A Robbe/Sander Fic

LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN (thanks for deleting it Tumblr).

Summary: Sander is Instagram Famous and Robbe is his biggest fan. Someone like Sander would never notice someone like him… right?

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135918/chapters/52836538

...

I would like to thank @milanhendrickx because this AU has completely taken over my life from the moment that I first saw her gifset. Originally, this wasn't supposed to be as long it was. It was only intended to be a one-shot, but there was just too much that I wanted to include. So, as of right now, there are only two chapters that deal with the events shown in milanhendrickx's original gifset, but I could easily expand to include more.

Like, this was soooooooo much fun to write. I enjoyed it. 

There are some texts in this chapter. The formatting might be a little easier on AO3, but I’m going to make the texts Robbe sends to be bold and the messages that he receives to be italicized. I hope this makes it a little bit easier with the texting sections. 

...

The party drummed around him, music floating through the speakers that were on either side of the television.

It was a small gathering, a get-together of sorts to celebrate Senne and Zoë’s engagement in their brand-new apartment. The bride-to-be was on the other side of the room, the bright shiny ring on her finger as she let Amber take a look at it. Senne was talking with Milan and some of his friends from school, leaning against the wall with a beer in his grasp.

The girls teased Zoë endlessly, probably because of Zoë’s retelling of the proposal where she had asked Senne to marry her a week before he had meticulously planned to propose (Robbe and Milan had spent so much time trying to help him plan it perfectly that they had gaped, having all been out together; Robbe managed to get his phone out to record the actual proposal when Senne surprised her by getting down on one knee in the middle of the market), and the blonde’s cheeks were dusted pink in response to her friends’ teasing. 

Robbe glanced the room for his friends, who were over on the edge of the room, trying to fish out the details of Jens’ new boyfriend, who had been sneaking in and out of their four-bedroom apartment for weeks. Robbe wasn’t a part of it because he had run into Lucas in the kitchen with Noor as they made breakfast. The boy hadn’t said anything, simply grabbing a bottle of water and returning to Jens’ room (which was then followed by a yelp from Jens and much laughing). Later that evening, the black-haired man had sworn Robbe and Noor to secrecy. 

(Noor was the one who had slipped up on Jens having a boyfriend and Jens had mock-scolded her at three in the morning one night.)

Robbe glanced at his phone, upset that he hadn’t heard from his mom quite yet. He ran a hand through his hair, reminding himself that it was normal for the first couple of days in the institution as doctors did evaluations and checked things over. His mother had been going down again, not taking her medications daily and her meds weren’t working like they were supposed to. When Robbe was in high school, she had checked herself into an institution, being there for months before she had been able to come home. Now, she had checked herself back in.

His phone buzzed and he barely registered the fact that it had been an Instagram notification before someone wrapped their arms around his shoulders. 

“Hey,” it was Zoë, pressing a kiss against his cheek. She pulled back to stare at him, reaching up to wipe away the deep red lip imprint that she left in her wake. Robbe glanced at her, spotting the concerned look on her face. Ever since Robbe had gone to live with her and Milan, the three of them had remained close. Zoë and Milan had been there for him when he needed it the most and they hadn’t let him go. “Why are you looking so glum for?” she questioned, a smile growing on her lips. “It’s a celebration, Robbe.” 

“I’m sorry,” Robbe replied, straightening up on the arm of the couch. “I’m just worried about my mom.” 

Zoë gave him a comforting smile, squeezing his shoulders as she pulled back. “I know, but I promise that she’s in the best place in the world. Now, come on,” she spoke, extending her hands. 

“Come on what?” Robbe questioned, taking them. 

The blonde grinned, pulling him off the couch and towards the middle of the room. The furniture had been pushed aside to have a makeshift dance floor which is where his friends were all gathered. Robbe rolled his eyes as he realized Zoë’s intentions, wrapping his arms around the woman that he had always considered to be the closest thing that he would ever have to a sister and dancing with her. Once Robbe spun her, Zoë let out a laugh and landed against his chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” she questioned, stepping back to glance up at him, still swaying. 

Robbe nodded his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “Of course you can. I’ve learned my lesson. Never say no to the bride.” 

Zoë laughed, a nervous look crossing her face as she bit down on her bottom lip. Watching her getting so nervous instantly made Robbe nervous as well. Then, after a bit, Zoë gripped onto his shoulder as she let out a laugh, lighter and showing her nerves before she managed to form the words together. 

“Would it be okay if you walked me down the aisle?” Zoë questioned, her voice rushed and breathless. Robbe’s eyes widened as she continued, “With Milan, of course, I think he would be quite offended if I asked you and not him, but both of you are like family and since my dad is out of the picture and you’re practically like my little brother-”

“Zoë,” Robbe cut her off. She blinked up at him, the nervous look crossed back over her face. “Of course, I would love to walk you down the aisle.” 

Zoë grinned, throwing her arms around him and pressing another kiss to his cheek. She shrieked out a sorry and tried to wipe away the red lipstick once again before she moved back towards the girls that were demanding the bride-to-be’s attention. Robbe laughed, moving back to the couch now that the only reason he was off the couch had been dragged away. As he flopped down on the couch, pulling his phone from pocket and glancing down at the Instagram notification.

earthlingoddity has started a live broadcast

Glancing around the room, Robbe slid open the notification and kicking his volume down to mute. Within minutes, the broadcast was up, showing ‘earthlingoddity’ in a store, lightly banging his head as he sang a song or mumbled a song. Judging from the angle, someone else was holding the camera and possibly talking to the chat. Robbe couldn’t tell, but he could tell that a fond smile had already begun to form on his face as he watched the man move through the store, grabbing things and dumping them in the shopping cart as he talked, and sung, to the camera and whoever was behind it. 

The brunet wasn’t for sure how it had started, this intense fascination for a person that he had ever seen in person before. While scrolling through Instagram one day, Robbe had come across one of the numerous drawings that he had posted on his profile and had liked it. Then, upon seeing three or four more, he ended up on his profile and following him before proceeding to scroll through every single picture that he had ever posted. He didn’t leave a like on all of his posts (though, Robbe knew that he wanted to).

But, if Robbe hadn’t been aware that he liked guys and only guys, he was certain that earthlingoddity, or Sander, would’ve been the final nail in the metaphorical coffin. 

The man was beautiful, almost angelic, like the type of person that you wouldn’t have suspected could’ve ever possibly existed on Earth. His hair had been bleached to a bright white and bright green eyes. Somehow, in (almost) every photo that featured himself, he was wearing the same black leather jacket and his live video now was no exception. He smiled brightly at the camera as he talked and Robbe had been certain that his stomach was performing somersaults. 

Yeah, he definitely had a problem, Robbe decided as he typed “you’re amazing”. His response was quickly followed by the fast-moving chat and Robbe locked his phone as he heard heels approaching him. 

“Robbe,” someone spoke, a light begging tone in her voice. 

He glanced up to find Noor walking towards him. His roommate’s girlfriend was dressed in a black long sleeve shirt with a plunging neckline coupled with a dark red skirt. She had her black hair pushed behind her ears, exposing her black stud earrings, and her bangs were slightly pushed to the side. Robbe noticed that she wasn’t wearing a septum ring tonight which could only mean one thing. 

“Noor,” he spoke, already sitting up and already suspecting that she was going to ask. “Again?” 

On their first ‘date’ following a mad dash from a party all those years ago, Noor had taken Robbe to a secret spray-painting club that operated out of a warehouse that someone owned. Some of the members were from her school and a handful were other spray-painters around Antwerp. Robbe and Noor had been a fresh couple back then, having literally met in a bathroom hours before. It had been before Nick and the harsh words that Robbe had thrown in Nick’s face in fear of what it all meant. After Robbe was out and had apologized to her, the two of them became friends. Once Moyo and Noor started officially dating, it became apparent that she wouldn’t be leaving Robbe’s life anytime soon. 

As a result, she tended to bring Robbe with her to the underground painting ring when Moyo couldn’t go with her. 

“Please,” Noor spoke, folding her hands in front of him. She glanced at Moyo, who was still trying to get Jens’ to fess up with Aaron and now Amber had joined in the conversation. “Our anniversary is tomorrow and we’re going out with his parents after I get out of work. I won’t be able to go for a week so I have to make sure it’s all done tonight. I’m almost done, I promise that it won’t take that long. Plus, Moyo is meeting with his mom and his mom’s doctor in the morning and it’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

Robbe looked at her. “Why me?”

“Because they know you,” Noor supplied, putting her hands on her hips. “And, besides, if I don’t show up with either one of you, I have to fight off some newbie with spray-paint who wants to hit on me.” She folded her hands in front of her again. “Please?”

Robbe let out a sigh and Noor grinned because she knew that she already won. 

… 

Upon arriving outside the old garage, Noor had practically forced the mask over his face before he even had the chance to ask for one. Once she had made sure that her own was secure, she stepped over to him, making sure the straps were tucked behind his ears and locked in place. The knock was simple and deliberate. After so many trips coming with her over the years, he had the knock memorized but he never came here of his own accord. 

Just like any other night, the garage was full of people. Robbe recognized the blue eyes of the man that had let them into the building. The man had made a joke about Noor ditching her boyfriend to which she rolled her eyes and pretended to not be offended before grabbing Robbe by the wrist and dragging him further into the large warehouse. There were a handful of vehicles along with the vast empty space, a handful of people here and there, and there was at least one person that had a camera, taking pictures of everything around them. 

Noor shifted the bag that she had been carrying up further on her shoulder. 

One artist that they passed had chosen the canvas to be one of the poles that held up the building. The person was switching from a can of spray paint to a paintbrush and palette that was balancing dangerously on his knee. Another had started an abstract painting on the floor, his space coordinated off by a bunch of backpacks that had to have been from the other painters. The entire life and feel of the warehouse had always made him smile, the support and the secrets brimming in the building. 

“Come,” Noor spoke, grabbing his arm and directing him further into the building, all the way to the back wall. There was a section of the wall that had already been spray-painted over. The section was a majority of a dark blue with a beautiful blend of blues and purples. There was only a section of the wall that had small white bursts against the blend. As he stared, Robbe could make out a handful of constellations that he couldn’t remember the name of. 

“Wow,” he mumbled.

“Do you like it?” she questioned, sounding insecure. 

“Of course I like it, it’s beautiful,” Robbe informed her. Even with the mask obscuring half of Noor’s face, he could tell that his friend was grinning from ear-to-ear. But, he couldn’t help but feel like there was more to the story. “Why are you so eager to finish this tonight?” he asked, curious. 

“Oh,” Noor spoke, her cheeks flushing. “Well, for our first date, Moyo and I had spent the night looking up at the stars. His mother used to always show him the constellations. We sat there forever just looking up at the stars and he was telling me the stories of them. I’m going to show him, but I know it’s not going to stay here on this wall forever so I was going to have a friend take a picture and print it out so we could keep it.”

Robbe smiled. 

“Too cheesy?” she questioned. 

“No,” Robbe replied, shaking his head. “I think it would be a perfect gift for Moyo.” 

Noor smiled.

The artist had a reference picture on her phone which she was meticulously following. In his initial visit to the warehouse, the two of them had sprayed a garage truck together. But, Robbe knew that he was here as moral support. As such, he sat on the floor, not far from her with his legs crossed beneath him and her bag of spray paint in front of him. Whenever her can of white paint ran out, he fetched her another from her bag. She must’ve known that she would need to use a lot because there were at least ten cans of white spray paint. 

Noor was meticulous, going a little at a time. Robbe knew that she was focused on the task at hand so while she was spray painting, Robbe was playing on his phone. There was a text from Moyo asking about any information about Jens’ boyfriend which Robbe ignored and informed him that they had made it to the warehouse safely. Jens sent him to let him know that he (and Moyo) had all arrived back at the apartment and that they were headed to bed. Once he had finished the text, his thumb instantly opened Instagram with the hopes that the live broadcast was still going on. 

To his disappointment, it wasn’t.  

So, he ended up playing a game. 

“Robbe,” Noor whined, tearing his attention away from his game. Robbe glanced up to his friend, who was standing on the top of the ladder that she had pulled over some time ago. She had reached the top of the mural now, the stars covered the entire mural except for one section in the upper hand corner. The ladder couldn’t go any further over, stuck by a pole. “How does it look?” 

Robbe gave her a look. “It looks beautiful, just like it did when you started nearly three hours ago.” 

“Three hours?!” she questioned, glancing at her phone. There’s a surprised look on her face as she filtered through what she presumed to be messages. “I didn’t realize it would take this long.”

“Noor,” Robbe spoke. “It’s fine. You just might have to deal with an angry boyfriend when you climb into bed in the middle of the night.” Noor chuckled, starting to climb off the ladder to move it. Robbe’s phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced down. It was an Instagram notification, but his tired brain doesn’t register it at first let alone read it. “How much do you have left to do?” he questioned, curious. 

“Just one more thing, I promise,” Noor admitted, locking the ladder in place. “And, this one won’t take three hours.” 

Robbe let out a laugh, shaking his head, as his phone vibrated against his palm. However, this time, it’s a text message from Jens, which he quickly opened, wondering why Jens was awake now. 

I just checked your room and you’re still not home.

Why are you still not home?

Noor has been pretty focused.

She’s finishing up now.

Why are you still awake?

Robbe, I know that I don’t need to tell you how sex works.

Oh, Lucas is there?

Tell him hi!

He says hello and that he’ll see you in the morning. 

When are you going to be home?

Thirty minutes to an hour?

Why?

So I don’t think someone’s breaking in?

Why would a burglar have a key?

We’re going to bed. 

Goodnight. 

Be quiet when you two come in.

We’ll be quiet.

I hope you didn’t wake up Moyo.

We didn’t. 

Unlike someone (*cough* Moyo *cough*), we can be quiet. 

Robbe let out a chuckle, glancing up when Noor’s boot tapped against his foot. She had pushed the ladder off to the side, exposing the entirety of the work. Her final touch had been a shooting star which was placed in the dead-center of the mural. He grinned at it. 

“Who’s still awake this late?” she questioned, placing the white cap back on the can. Robbe handed her the phone to show her the texts which she read through with a grin on her face. Robbe took the spray paint and placed it back in her bag with the other cans. Most of them were empty but Noor recycled them. Noor let out a laugh, her eyes scanning over the texts. 

“Noor?” 

The deep voice stirred both of their attention. Robbe glanced up, spotting the man standing behind him with a black hood over his head, obscuring his face in shadows. The man even had a black mask that covered his mouth, almost draping him completely in darkness and shadows. The only thing that stood out was his eyes but even those were partially obscured in the shadows. 

But, Noor seemed to recognize him, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug. “Hey, how are you?” The man moved to respond, but Robbe’s phone vibrated in Noor’s hand, managed to get the attention of both of them. She glanced down, reading the screen, before handing the phone out to him.

Robbe’s breath knocked out of his throat at the sight of Mama on the screen. “I’ll be right back,” Robbe promised Noor, taking the phone and stepping away. He vaguely registered that he paused to take his mask off as he moved to a section of the warehouse that hadn’t been touched tonight. “Hi Mama,” he spoke, right before a yawn escaped his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, Robbe,” his mother spoke. “I just realized what time it was. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up,” Robbe spoke quickly. He glanced around, unsure what to tell his mother about what he had actually been doing. Noor was talking to her friend that had walked up to them, but she glanced at him, worried. His friends, including Noor, had been waiting as anxiously as he was for news about his mother. “I was just studying for a test that I have on Monday. Time got away from me.”

His mother let out a breath of relief. “That’s good. I meant to call you earlier, but I guess I must’ve fallen asleep without realizing it. How has the apartment been? Are the boys taking care of you?”

Robbe smiled. “Yeah, they are. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good. The doctors think that I’ll only be in a couple of weeks this time. They were talking about how they’ll have to change my meds again,” his mother spoke. “Will you visit me while I’m in here?” 

“Of course,” Robbe promised. “I will.” His mother let out a yawn. As much as Robbe didn’t want to get off the phone with his mother, he knew that she needed to get some sleep. “Mama, I’ve got to get to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

“Make it in the afternoon. I have a session with the doctor in the morning. I’ll ask when you can start visiting,” his mother spoke, sounding sleepy. Even though she couldn’t see, Robbe found himself nodding his head anyways. “Have a good night’s sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Robbe replied before hearing the dial tone. He let out a breath that he didn’t realize that he was even holding. His mom was okay and safe. 

“Is everything okay with your mom? Why was she calling so late?” It was Noor, appearing at his side with a concerned plastered on her face. Her bag was thrown over her shoulder and his brown jacket was bundled up in her arms. He took it from her, slipping it over his shoulders, as he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Robbe informed her. Noor let out a breath of relief, running her hand through her hair as she turned back around. Robbe glanced where she was looking, only to find the boy wrapped up in the black hoodie, leather jacket, and a mask to be taking a picture of Noor’s mural. “She meant to call me earlier and had fallen asleep. She didn’t realize what time it was until after I picked up.” 

“That’s good,” Noor replied. She reached out to take his arm. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“What about your mural?” he questioned. 

Noor pointed a finger to the guy taking photos. “He’s going to print it out for me. He’s got a studio for everything that he’s into. I’ll get it sometime in the week.”

“Alright, let’s go home.” Robbe laughed, letting her pull him from the warehouse. As the two of them left arm-in-arm, the two talked about Robbe’s mom had talked to him about, unaware of the green eyes that staring at their backs.

It’s only later in the morning after Robbe is woken up to the sounds of Jens talking with Moyo in the kitchen, talking about making another vlog, after Robbe had groggily walked in on the two conversing over the coffee pot with a sleepy Noor at the table, that he realized that he had never checked the Instagram notification. As his roommates bickered and Noor sipped on her coffee, Robbe checked his phone. 

earthlingoddity has added to his story

It was a simple black picture, not showing anything other than a faint outline of where the platinum-haired man was vaguely standing. There was white text across the screen, diagonal and slanted: Do you ever see someone and just know they’re the one? 

…

When Moyo and Noor were finally able to have their anniversary celebration that weekend, the rest of the boys had vacated the apartment, leaving it to the happy couple of four years. Jens had hopped on the train to visit Lucas at his flat. Aaron had an exclusive party to go to Amber’s house. Robbe had wandered a bit where he could end up going, but he decided on texting Milan and ask if he could stay in the spare bedroom (which had been empty since Zoë had moved out). With Lisa out of the house with party plans and no third roommate, the two of them had the living room for the night and a bottle of alcohol passed between them. 

“How’s school?” Milan questioned. 

“Almost done,” Robbe admitted, letting out a sigh. His eyes flickered around the room, catching all the empty places where Zoë’s things once were.

“And?” Milan pressed. 

“And what?”

“Are there any cute boys?” Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t give me that look. As your gay-guru, I have the right to make sure that you are properly satisfied.” 

Robbe barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “There’s no one. I’m afraid that Jens is getting more action than I am right now. I think I’ve actually seen his boyfriend more than I’ve been seeing someone,” Robbe replied. 

“So no one? Not even one night flings?”

Robbe shrugged. There were a couple of one-night flings that he had over the years, but it had been a while since he had one himself. “Not for a bit.” 

“Well, you’re boring,” Milan deadpanned. 

Robbe scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, what about you, Milan? Have you finally decided to ask out that guy from the coffee shop or are beating you around the bush because you don’t want to get hurt?” 

Milan looked offended, holding his hand over his chest. “Excuse you, baby Robbe? As your gay-guru, you have no right to speak to me like that,” he started before the older man descended into laughter, almost falling off of the couch. He straightened up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m just waiting to make my move.”

“At a snail’s pace,” Robbe teased. Milan let out a gasp, getting up to go into the kitchen and fetch another bottle of vodka or wine. Whatever Milan decided. His phone buzzed in his lap and he glanced at it with a curious gaze. There was an Instagram notification from Noor (noor.bauwens has tagged you in a post) and Robbe was smiling before he had even opened the post. 

The post was simply a photo of Noor with Moyo in their apartment kitchen. Moyo was sitting in a chair, pressing a kiss to Noor’s cheek as she sat perched on his lap, her arms curled around his neck and one hand on his cheek. The framed photo of her spray painting masterpiece was being held up on both of them, partially cut off by the Instagram photo restrictions. The frame itself had been larger than Robbe had been expecting, but it could’ve easily been hung above their bed. Robbe was certain that he would be able to see it in person once he was able to go back into his apartment tomorrow morning (or afternoon, depending on how long his tequila/wine-induced hangover lasted). 

noor.bauwens: happy anniversary, my love. here’s to many more years and moments together. special thanks to @sterkerdanijzer for keeping me company while I stayed up too late to finish and to @earthlingoddity for taking the photo of my gift and framing it (and the photo credit) love you both <3

Wait… Robbe thought, his eyes staring at the second username tagged. Since when did Noor know him? Had she known him the entire time?

“Aww,” Milan had returned, leaning over Robbe’s shoulder and placing the bottle of wine on the table. The smaller boy jumped with a start and his friend gave him an apologetic grin. “That’s adorable. And, that’s a beautiful picture. Is that the mural that she dragged you to the warehouse to do?” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing in person too,” Robbe replied, shaking his head. He posted a comment beneath the photo. 

sterkerdanijzer: glad to help; love you two <3 @noor.bauwens

“Oh? Maybe she’ll show me one day,” Milan spoke. “Want some wine?” Robbe gladly extended his glass to be filled before announcing that he had to go to the bathroom before they started the next episode. Milan had laughed, pouring his glass and Robbe had run off, sliding down the hall and forgetting his phone in the living room. As Robbe headed back into the living room, Milan shouted, “Hey, who’s earthlingoddity?”

“Huh?” Robbe questioned, stepping into the living room. The older man was sitting on the couch, his glass of wine in one hand and Robbe’s phone in the other with his legs curled beneath him. Robbe felt his eyes roll in his head. That’s what he gets for leaving his phone unattended with Milan in the room. As Robbe passed him, he snatched his phone from Milan’s grasp. “Milan, when we were roommates, you promised that you would stop looking through my phone.” 

Milan rolled his eyes, pulling up his phone and typing into the search bar. “Jokes on you, I can still find out who he is,” Milan teased. Robbe rolled his eyes, moving to start the next episode as he tucked his phone between his thigh and the couch. “Oh, he’s cute,” Milan spoke up, scrolling through his Instagram. “And, it looks like he’s quite popular. Wait, is this that Instagram guy you have a crush on?”

Robbe rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I don’t have a crush on him. He’s an influential Instagram profile that just so happens to have a lot of interesting art.”

(It’s a lie, of course, because Robbe definitely has a crush on him, in the completely unattainable celebrity-crush kind of way.)

“Well,” Milan spoke, locking his phone and putting it down on the couch between them. “Well, either way, he followed you on Instagram.” 

“Huh?” Robbe blinked, his brain short-circuiting. There was no way in any universe that Sander, earthlingoddity, whichever you wanted to call him by, would follow Robbe of all people. Robbe wasn’t anything interesting, mostly being tagged in posts by his friends and random stuff with the boys. “What are you talking about?” 

Milan didn’t even glance away from the television as he took a sip of wine. “Robbe, did you even look at the notification?” 

Robbe pulled his phone out from between his thigh and the couch, pressing the lock button. There were a number of Instagram notifications now. There were a handful of comments and likes from their friends and family members. There was even a comment from Moyo’s mom, who had spent the better part of the past four years mumbling to Robbe that Noor was going to be her daughter-in-law someday. Robbe scrolled through the notifications until he found the one that Milan had mentioned. 

earthlingoddity started following you

As Robbe settled back into the couch, he felt a smile grow on his face. 

“Was I wrong?” Milan questioned, leaning towards him. 

Robbe scoffed, pink growing on his cheeks as he ducked his head. “Shut up.” 

Milan grinned, bright and toothy. “You do have a crush on him!” 

“Shut up, Milan!” 

… 

earthlingoddity sent you a message

Robbe didn’t know why he was so nervous, his thumb hovering over the notification. He knew that he was acting like a kid with an intense crush on a boy, his first real crush, and the very thought was ridiculous because Robbe had crushes before. Robbe had boyfriends before. Hell, Robbe had one-night stands that ended with him leaving in the dead of night, nervously trying to leave quietly so he wouldn’t be caught. He had experience with guys. So, why was he so nervous about a simple Instagram message?

Robbe didn’t know but it was beyond frustrating that this man, someone who Robbe had never even met before and had spent far too much time staring at his photos and his live-streams, had managed to have such a profound impact on him in such a short span of time. 

Pushing up from his bed, the topic of his essay forgotten and his mathematical proof half-finished, Robbe crossed his legs beneath him and nervously fiddled with his hair. He realized how ridiculous he was being. It wasn’t like Sander could see him through the camera of his phone. It was just a simple Instagram message. In fact, it probably had to do with Noor’s photo. 

Yeah, that’s all it was, Robbe decided, finally opening the message. 

That wasn’t what it was. 

You’re so beautiful.

I’m such a fan.

Robbe’s cheeks flushed as he stared down at the message, trying to figure out what to say in response. The first response that pops into Robbe’s mind is have you seen yourself? But, even though it was wholeheartedly true, Robbe decided quickly that he did not want to send that message. He did not want to have to admit how much time he’s looked at the selfies that Sander had posted a little too long since Robbe had started following him.

So, instead, he decided to answer the second half of his text.

You’re a fan? I literally check your Instagram every day. 

Shit.

I mean… like I see you on my feed every day. 

Please don’t take that a weird way.

Robbe spent the next couple of minutes, nervously tapping at his phone and refreshing the conversation. He could see that Sander was still online and there were nerves vibrating throughout every fiber of his being. His phone buzzed, bringing him back to the conversation. 

God, you’re so adorable :)

Robbe exhaled a breath of relief, his cheeks growing hotter by the second, and ran a hand through his hair as another message popped up. 

So, you’re a fan of mine?

Yeah.

Do you listen to David Bowie?

Yes, I listen to your Bowie playlist all the time.

God, Robbe thought, running his hand across his face and letting out a groan. The man must think that Robbe was a stalker or something, listening to his playlist and following his Spotify as well as basically stalking him on Instagram. His chat had flickered offline after he had sent his last message so Robbe knew that he hadn’t seen the message quite yet. Once his eyes had caught sight of the green bubble beside his profile picture, indicating that he had returned online, Robbe quickly added:

It’s a good playlist.

Oh really? I’m glad you like it.

It’s only the beginner playlist.

The beginner playlist?

When do I get permission to listen to the advanced set?

When you pass your first exam.

Oh? Is it difficult?

Extremely.

That’s going to be a lot of studying.

There’s a shout from Noor down the hall before the door to his bedroom was opening. Glancing at him, she blinked in surprise and Robbe glanced around. He was in the midst of all his books and notebooks from class, spread out around him like a disorganized tornado of papers and notes. She leaned against the door frame to his room and tilted her head, “How’s studying for your tests going?” 

“Non-existant,” Robbe admitted, locking his screen as she stepped into his room. He made space on his bed for her to sit down and she flopped down on his bed, crossing her feet beneath her. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing tonight?” she questioned. 

“Lucas and I talked about trying to figure out what to do for Jens’ birthday in a couple of months,” Robbe admitted, quietly despite the fact that he knew that Jens hadn’t been home yet. “Jens is going to his weekly dinner with his dad so it’s the only time that we’ll get the time to have an idea. Why?” 

“Britt’s been bugging me about going to dinner,” Noor admitted. 

“Britt?” Robbe questioned. “I thought you guys stopped talking years ago?” 

“Yeah, we did,” Noor replied, shrugging her shoulders as she looked over a sketch he made in the margins of his notes. “But, she messaged me the other day. I wanted to make amends or something. So, Moyo and I are going to meet her and her friend to hang out and catch up.”  

“And you’re asking me? Even with our history, Britt and I never really got along. I am Jens’ best friend so when the two of them broke up, I basically became scum of the Earth,” Robbe replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Then, it was only amplified when the two of us broke up.”  

Noor shrugged her shoulders. “While all completely true, I was thinking that you might come by and pick up Moyo and make some excuse for him to leave,” Noor admitted, turning towards him. “Britt never really cared for Moyo either and I don’t want him to have to be at a dinner where someone doesn’t want him there.”

“I want to be there,” Moyo spoke up, entering Robbe’s bedroom. The man was carrying a large plastic bag filled with cereal and was eating out of it. He stepped closer to Noor, who turned to him. “She’s your friend.”

“I know,” Noor admitted, reaching up to touch his hand. “But, I also know how she can get. Plus, she’s never been too keen on my boyfriends anyways. When I mentioned to her that we had gone a date the first time, I thought she was going to faint. The last thing I want is for you to be caught in the crossfire.” 

“I could show up and make an excuse to get you both out of there,” Robbe supplied. 

“That might work if the date ends up going badly that is. We’ll see,” Noor admitted, glancing at Robbe. “Britt and I were never really good at double dates.”

The front door slammed, followed by hasty movements. The shuffling continued down the hallway, towards them, until Jens appeared in the doorframe with Lucas’s lips pressed against his neck and his hand under his boyfriend’s shirt. After Robbe’s best friend spotted them, he stopped outside the door as Robbe was already reaching for his headphones on his nightstand. 

Jens glanced at them, a threatening look on his face as his eyes flickered between all of them, “Consider this a ten-minute warning to vacate the apartment or your complaints are invalid.” Lucas laughed before Jens is backing them into the latter’s bedroom across the hall, slamming the door behind him. 

Noor was already moving to get up, grabbing Moyo’s hand and leaving. “I’ll text you the restaurant,” Noor spoke. “I’m sure one of us will let you know when we’re ready for you to make an excuse. If it decides to happen at all.” Robbe nodded his head, giving her a thumbs-up as she closed the door to his bedroom. He turned his attention to connecting his headphones to his phone, starting up the music as soon as it was connected. Once the music had started wafting through the speakers, effectively blocking out any noise around him, Robbe turned back to his notes. 

His phone vibrated, remind him with a start and pulling him back fully to his phone, his homework abandoned once again. 

Sander. 

Who knows? Maybe you might be able to bribe the teacher.

Robbe smiled, his stomach churning in knots. It might’ve been a while since Robbe had been interested in a guy, and it might’ve been through text message, but this entire exchange felt like flirting. He almost wished that they were face-to-face so that way Robbe would know for sure. 

Should I dare to take that risk?

I’ll give you some advice later tonight.

If you want.

Robbe’s heart thumped in his chest, wishing that he didn’t have plans with Lucas (and possibly Aaron) for Jens’ party or possible plans with Noor and Moyo. But, he knew that they needed to work on the party, or at least have an idea, since they would have a limited amount of time to put it all together. So, he typed out his response.

I’d love to, but I have plans tonight. 

Ah, okay. 

Tomorrow?

Robbe couldn’t keep the grin off his face, biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to smother it.

...

Concept: The Broooers are a famous YouTube vlog channel located in Antwerp that updates weekly and Sander has a crush on the brunet boy that has a wide range of facial expressions and an affinity for making a fool of himself (and looking beautiful while doing it).

[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.13

Chapter 13: For The Ones Who Need A Hand

“Oh no, sorry my dear. Not the Phantom.” He turned the monitor on his desk around. On the screen was a photo of a ghost which clearly resembled Danny in his ghost form, but that wasn’t him. “I want you to hunt this Phantom.”

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

In her short life, Dani had seen a lot of crummy alleys. All things considered, the one she was currently in certainly wasn’t one of the worst. The boxes she was hiding behind covered her well, and her glow was dim enough that no bystanders would spot her.

Once she was sure that the coast was clear, she pushed herself out of her hiding place with a groan. She was feeling more and more tired lately, and had noticed herself getting weaker as well.

It was for this reason that she had cut off her explorations of the world. She was trying to get back to Amity Park, to Danny, but she hadn’t quite gotten there yet. The dirty alley she was in only confirmed this.

Elmerton wasn’t Amity Park, but it was close. She only had to get a little further. And then Danny would help her, she was sure of it. He wasn’t like Vlad, he refused to drop her just because she wasn’t useful to him.

She shifted, getting ready to launch herself into the air. A movement caught her eye, and she stilled immediately. She started turning around, trying figure out what she had seen, and if it was a threat.

A pair of glowing green eyes blinked back, wide open.

Dani huffed out a laugh, realizing that she had been spooked by her own reflection. “Whoa, that is one scary ghost.” She shook her head, amused at her own foolishness. But she was quick to focus again.

She pushed herself off of the ground. “I got to get to Danny fast!” Angled herself in the direction of Amity, pushing her speed to its absolute limit.

Her flight was slow and faltering, however, and she was soon drooping in exhaustion. “Or slow. Slow is good.”

Another wave of fatigue hit her, and she dropped back onto the floor. Rather than the sound of her boots softly hitting the concrete, Dani was greeted by a hissing sound.

A sound which was all too familiar to her. One she dreaded, that she had nightmares about.

One she heard more and more often, these days.

She grimaced, looking down to see her feet dissolving into ectoplasm. “I just hope that Danny can help me…”

Dani tried to keep her hopes up, really, she did! But her ‘cousin’ was just a 16 year old half-ghost. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she was hoping he could do for her that Vlad hadn’t been able to do. Because, sure, her ‘creator’ hadn’t tried to save her. But if he had been able to stabilize clones, he would’ve done so already. She would never have met Danny if Vlad had been able to stabilize her, or any of her brothers.

Scrunching her nose in concentration, she managed to re-stabilize her body. But she knew it wouldn’t last. And as much as she wanted to make haste, it would be better to take it slow.

Walking to Amity Park might take a lot longer, but it would be safer. Especially since she could shift back into her human form, which was a lot less inclined to melt into ectoplasm.

She allowed her transformation to wash over her, turning her back into a perfectly normal human being. A pretty scruffy human being, but not very noteworthy otherwise.

Sticking her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, Dani sunk deeper into the loose fabric. As she left the alley, she softly muttered to herself. “At least Vlad is all the way in Colorado. There’s no way he knows I’m here.”

A vaguely familiar buzzing noise sounded in the back of Valerie’s head. She shoved her schoolwork away by reflex before stopping to consider the situation. She recognized the jingle, even if she hadn’t heard it in a long time.

Last time must’ve been before her suit got upgraded. Because she definitely didn’t remember hearing it like this, whirring in the back of her mind.

Vlad Masters, her employer, was calling for her. He rarely did so, but when he asked her, he usually offered further compensation. Hunt down some random ghost, get better weapons, or sometimes even straight-up money. There was no doubt in her mind about going to his mansion to hear him out.

She swept into the mansion soon enough. Hovered in front of the desk behind which Vlad Masters sat. He quirked an eyebrow at her sudden appearance.

“Well, that certainly was fast.” His eyes trailed over her body, and she felt herself stiffen slightly under his scrutiny. “My, don’t you look fancy.”

“Got a few upgrades,” she acknowledged, allowing herself to relax again. It was okay, he wasn’t being weird. He was just curious about her new suit. Which, she had to admit, no one had ever seen up-close before.

Well, except for Danny. But that didn’t count.

“Well, perhaps you’d be willing to upgrade your life as well.” Vlad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and weaving his fingers together. “Wouldn’t you like to finally move out of that rundown apartment?”

Well, that was certainly an offer she wouldn’t refuse. She allowed her hoverboard to retract back into the soles of her boots. “Absolutely. What do you need, Mr. Masters?”

“A little bounty hunting,” he purred, obliging.

Of course. He always asked her to hunt down ghosts. She resisted the urge to sigh at his obvious answer, instead imploring for more information. “Of course. What, or who, is the target?”

And now he smiled at her. She stamped down her instinctual shivers, her body telling her not to trust the man in front of her. Her alarm bells were ringing, but… Surely whatever he was going to ask for would be worth the reward?

“Phantom,” Masters finally answered. And, oh. Of course he didn’t know that she had made up with Phantom, with Danny. She couldn’t hunt him, but… maybe she should play along a little further. Find out more about why Masters suddenly wanted her to hunt down Danny, even though he had resided in the town for so long already.

“The Phantom?” she queried, cocking an eyebrow. Then she decided to play it up a little, falling back into her former behavior. “That guy has been an intangible pain in my ass for a long time.”

Masters untangled his hands again, raising them up in a motion clearly meant to pacify her. “Oh no, sorry my dear. Not the Phantom.” He turned the monitor on his desk around.

On the screen was a photo of a ghost which clearly resembled Danny in his ghost form, but that wasn’t him. The ghost depicted was female, and appeared slightly younger than him too. Her jumpsuit was also somewhat different, but it carried the same colors and even the logo.

Her employer had waited for her to finish studying the picture before he continued speaking. “I want you to capture this Phantom.”

Valerie was sure that there was a story behind this picture, and one that Danny could tell her. But she didn’t know it, not yet, and thus didn’t know if this ghost was of any importance to Danny. It was better to accept Vlad’s mission, anyway. If she didn’t, he would likely send different ghost hunters after the ghost girl. This way she could stall him until she knew more about the situation.

She scoffed, incredulously. “You’re kidding, there’s a girl ghost named Phantom as well? These ghosts need to come up with more original names.”

“Yes, well, this Phantom is an incredibly dangerous ghost out to destroy me.” Vlad must think himself a great actor, but Valerie knew better now. She could tell that his fear was faked. She didn’t know why he would send her after this ghost, this doppelganger, but she was sure that it wasn’t good.

On the other hand, she was aided by his clear underestimation of her. He was clearly falling for her act.

“There’s no way I’m letting that ghost girl get you, Mr. Masters.” She shot him a reassuring smile. “She is as good as caught.”

“I knew I could count on you, Valerie,” the man purred, and Valerie barely stifled her grimace. How had she never noticed how slimy he was?

Regardless, she summoned her board and flew off. First and foremost, she had to talk to Danny.

Tracking down Danny was a lot easier these days. She just had to search for Phantom’s ecto-signature and raise the sensitivity of her tracker way up. That way it could pick him up even in human form.

Not that it was necessary, because he was in ghost form. Apparently in the middle of a fight as well, since the tracker picked up a second ghost near him. Valerie turned to his direction and zipped off, hoping to catch him before he left.

She saw him suck up the ghost (an animalistic ghost of some sort) and called to him before he got a chance to leave. “Phantom!”

He stopped, whirling around to greet her. “Hey Val, what’s up?”

She came to a halt right in front of him, glancing down to make sure they were high enough that no one could overhear their conversation. Danny didn’t greet her by name if they weren’t, but better safe than sorry. She was sure that this wouldn’t be a light conversation.

“Hey Danny, I have to talk to you. Do you… know who my benefactor is?”

He frowned at her, but nodded. “Yeah, it’s Vlad, right? Well, not for your current suit, Technus made that. Why?”

She wasn’t sure how he knew, but, well. It wasn’t as surprising as it should’ve been.

“Well, he called me in today. Sometimes he asks me to hunt down specific ghosts in return for a reward, you know? But something was weird about this one. He was lying about why he wanted me to catch her, I know it.”

Danny nodded again. “Yeah, Vlad does that a lot. Can you describe the ghost to me? Maybe I know why he’s after her.”

“Yeah, that’s why I was suspicious of him in the first place.”  She kept her tone dry as she spoke. “He asked me to hunt down Phantom, but not you Phantom. He showed me a picture, some female ghost who looks just like you?”

“Dani,” Danny muttered, frown deepening. “Shit. That’s not good.”

Valerie quirked a brow at the unexpected swear. Danny didn’t make a habit out of swearing, and usually only did it in serious situations. “Who is she, then?”

He wavered for a moment, hesitating. Then he sighed. “She’s… my clone.” He clearly sensed her incredulous expression even without seeing it, because he continued his explanation. “Vlad is kind of obsessed with me, with having me as his half-ghost son. I turned him down time after time and eventually he snapped and decided to try and clone me instead.” Danny shrugged. “They were all unstable though. Danielle was the only one who survived, and she left to explore the world.”

“That’s...” Valerie didn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t think of a word that was strong enough to describe how she felt. She settled on, “messed up. That’s really fucking messed up, Danny.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” he huffed, before combing his fingers through his hair. “Shit. Who knows what Vlad is gonna do to her if he catches her.”

“He’s not gonna catch her,” she reassured, making sure to sound as soothing as she could. “Because he send me to get her. I’ll track her down and bring her to you, no problem.”

Danny blinked at her, stunned. “You’ll do that for me?” And then he snapped back into focus. “Right, okay. I’ll… go talk to my parents about this. If she came to Amity, she’s probably destabilizing.” His voice gradually quietened as he spoke, and Valerie was pretty sure he wasn’t talking to her anymore.

She turned around to fly off, before Danny suddenly spoke again.

“And Valerie?”

When she looked over her shoulder, he shot her a wide grin. “Thanks,” he said, before disappearing. She huffed out a fond laugh in return.

“Yeah, no problem. Dork.”

Danny phased through the door of FentonWorks. He glanced around the living room, but didn’t see his parents. They were probably in the lab, then. Should’ve known, really.

“Mom, dad?” he called out, just to be sure. “I kind of have something I need to talk about!”

He didn’t have to wait long for the thunderous footsteps of his parents as they came out of the lab. His dad was, of course, storming ahead, but his mom wasn’t far behind.

“What’s wrong sweetie? What did you want to talk about?”

Danny grimaced, considering his words. He transformed back to his human form to stall, but it didn’t give him nearly as much time as he needed.

“It’s… Vlad.” More explanation, Fenton, he chided himself. “He’s… kind of my arch enemy? And for a good reason.”

His dad frowned and looked like he was going to defend his old friend, but he faltered when he saw Danny’s expression.

“Danny, I know that the two of you don’t get along, but… there’s something more, isn’t there?” Ah, his mom was so perceptive. Well, sometimes.

He nodded. “Yeah, he’s… like me. He became half-ghost during the accident with the Proto-Portal. It’s a long story and it’s… not really important right now.”

“Oh,” his dad said, looking rather downtrodden. “Then… why did you bring it up?”

“Well...” Danny hissed between his teeth, increasingly uncomfortable with describing Vlad’s misdeeds. “Vlad kind of… has been obsessed with me since he found out that I’m half-ghost. Wants me as his son slash evil apprentice and everything. But I turned him down every time, because… Well, because of a lot of reasons, really.”

He flapped his hands. “Eventually he kind of… snapped, I guess? And decided that if he couldn’t get me to join him, he would just make his own half-ghost son.” Danny licked his lips, uncertain. “So he… Well, he cloned me. Or tried to, at least.”

“Oh, Vladdie,” Jack whispered, hurt clearly audible in his voice. “I can’t- Why would he-”

“Sorry.” And he was, truly. He couldn’t imagine discovering that someone who you considered to be your best friend was… Well, was Vlad, pretty much.

“Don’t be,” his mom comforted him, also laying a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m glad you told us, Danny. But…” she trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Danny could guess what she was going to say, though.

“The clones were unstable.” He grimaced at the memory of seeing them melt. “They… Whenever they used too much energy, they would melt into ectoplasm. Vlad kept forcing them to overextend themselves. Only one… Only one survived, she realized that Vlad was using them.”

“’She’?” Maddie asked, before waving her own question off. “Never mind, not relevant right now. What happened to her?”

“Well, she came along with me back to Amity Park. But with Vlad, she had never gotten a chance to explore. To be… free.” He shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face. “She wanted to explore the world. So she left. Dramatically flew off into the sunset, and stuff.”

His mom sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I guess I can’t blame either of you for it. But if you’re telling us now… I’m guessing that she’s back?”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny admitted. “The, uh, Red Huntress is looking for her now. Apparently Vlad tried to hire her to hunt down Danielle, but he didn’t know that we have a truce now.”

“Well,” Jack tried, his voice wavering a little but regaining some of its usual bluster. “I wouldn’t mind another kid, especially one as wonderful as you, Danny-boy.”

Danny blushed, shoulders creeping up a little in embarrassment. “I… I don’t know if that’s what she’s looking for, dad. I think she might be… I think she might be destabilizing again.”

“And she’s hoping that you know how to help her?” his mom queried, but she was already nodding to herself. “Do you know a way to help her?”

“No.” Danny combed his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “I’ve never had such a thing happen. And if Vlad couldn’t figure it out… I’m not sure what else I could try.”

His dad snapped his fingers, a grin forming on his face. “Maddie, do you remember what me newest project was?”

“Yes...” His mom frowned as she turned to look at Jack. “You were working on a chemical which weakens ghosts, right?”

“Exactly!” Jack nodded, his smile growing wider. “But I just couldn’t get it to work. Every time I tried it on a weak ghost, it would get stronger.”

Hope bloomed in Danny’s chest, and he looked at his dad. “Do you think…?”

The man nodded again in response. “Probably! I’ll go get some Ecto-Dejecto right now, of the strongest batch I have.”

“Thanks Dad!” Danny grinned as his dad ruffled his hair. His mom remained seated, a thoughtful but warm smile on her face. Things were looking up for once.

Danny heard the hum of Valerie’s hoverboard approaching the house and made his way to the backyard. He had hoped that she would’ve taken the less noticeable route and just walked with Dani, but apparently not.

The hoverboard swept into the backyard, Valerie in full armor. Standing behind her, with her arms wrapped around Valerie’s waist, was Danielle. Her clothes were dirty and ragged, and she looked dead tired. The bags under her eyes were worse than his usually were, and that was saying something.

He extended a hand to help her off of the hoverboard, shooting her an encouraging smile. “Hey Dani, long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Dani agreed, voice tinged with exhaustion. She accepted his help and slumped off of the board, almost falling into his arms.

Danny wrapped an arm around her, supporting her weight against his own body. He nodded at Valerie. “Thanks for bringing her Val. I’ll tell you the full story behind Vlad later, okay?”

“You better,” she declared with a nod of her head. And then she was gone again.

Danny quirked a brow at the dramatic display, but then shook his head to clear the thoughts. Valerie might think him overdramatic, but she had quite a penchant for it as well.

“Come on Dani, let’s get you inside. Are you… destabilizing again?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, voice soft and almost impossible to hear. She was sagging against him, barely capable of carrying her own weight.

Danny was glad that she had had the forethought to shift back to human form. He was sure that she would’ve been melting into ectoplasm already if she had been a ghost.

He wrestled himself through the backdoor with Danielle still hanging off of him, and his mom spotted the two of them. She nodded towards the dinner table, a silent command to settle Dani there. Then she raced off down the stairs, going to retrieve his dad from the lab.

Danny had barely gotten Dani situated when his dad came up. She stiffened slightly at the sight of the burly man. Or maybe at the sight of the glowing green vial in his hand.

Really, he couldn’t blame her for either of those reasons. He felt the same way about his dad and potentially dangerous inventions, even if the man had gotten a lot better about it.

He moved to step in, but his mom had appeared from the lab as well and laid a hand on Jack’s arm. Then she shot Dani a warm smile, full of motherly warmth.

“Hey sweetie, you’re Danielle, right?”

Dani nodded a little sluggishly. She was still eyeing Jack with clearly visible wariness.

“Good.” Maddie took the vial from Jack’s hand, holding it out in her open palm to show it to Danielle. “Danny told us you were destabilizing. This should help, but we will have to inject it. Is that okay?”

Dani blinked for a moment before turning to look at Danny. He nodded at her, encouraging. “It’s okay, they know. About me, about you, and… about Vlad.”

“Oh,” she said, a little stunned. Then she shrugged at Maddie. “I guess… that it’s okay.” Then, more quietly, she mumbled, “Don’t have anything to lose anyway.”

His mom made a pained expression but covered it up quickly. Then she produced a syringe from one of the pockets of her belt, making sure to show it to Dani. Maddie uncorked the vial and sucked its contents into the needle. Then she eyed Dani speculatively.

“It might be better if you’re in your… ghost… form.” She held up the filled needle, the Ecto-Dejecto in it still glowing a vibrant green. “We don’t know how it might react to your human physiology.”

The clone scrunched her eyes closed. Familiar rings formed and passed over her, but they were faint. It clearly took great effort on Dani’s part to make it happen.

“Danny, can you hold her arm for me?” his mom asked, and he nodded.

He reached out to Dani, and she offered him an arm. He quickly removed one of the gloves, watching with dread as it melted into ectoplasm the moment it lost contact with her body. Then he carefully rolled up the sleeve of her jumpsuit.

Maddie came closer, crouching next to the chair Dani was seated on. Danny stabilized Dani’s arm. Jack hovered nearby, clearly wanting to help but knowing that there was nothing he could do.

The needle slipped into Dani’s arm with no resistance. Maddie pressed down on the plunger, and the Ecto-Dejecto flowed into the system of Danny’s clone. Its spread could easily be tracked, veins shortly lighting up green as the chemical made its way through Dani’s system.

And then the needle was removed again, and Danny rolled down the sleeve again.

Dani blinked, then blinked again. Then she rubbed her eyes, blinking rapidly.

It was like she was re-energizing before their eyes. The bags under her eyes seemed lighter, her skin seemed healthier. Her aura brightened significantly, although it still fluctuated a little.

“It… worked?” she whispered, looking at her hands as she clenched and unclenched them.

“Of course it did!” Jack boomed, grinning widely. “Only the best for my kids!”

Dani whipped her head around to look at the man, eyes blown wide. “Your kids?” Her voice was quiet still, but Danny couldn’t tell with what emotion.

His mom laid a hand on the shoulder of the girl ghost. “Of course, honey. It might be a little unconventional, but you’re our flesh and blood.” Then she hesitated a little, adding, “If you want, of course.”

“Really?” Dani gasped, looking between all three of them. “Even though I’m… just a clone?”

“You’re not ‘just a clone’ Dani,” Danny chided, frowning. “You’re family. To all of us. And you’re your own person, no matter what Vlad has told you before.”

Both of his parents nodded. Then Maddie spoke up again. “That man is sick, Danielle. He has done bad things. But… none of that is your fault.”

“And I’ve always wanted another daughter,” Jack added with an over-the-top wink.

Dani giggled at him, then nodded. “I would… really like that. Thanks.”

“Of course kiddo! Now, who wants some fudge?” Jack turned to walk to the fridge.

Danny grimaced, then leaned in a little closer to Dani. “Fair warning, there is about a 50% chance that food in this house spontaneously comes to life.”

Dani quirked a brow at him. “For re-”

She never got to finish her sentence, as loud growls suddenly came from the open fridge. Green hot dogs with teeth burst out of the appliance.

“Oh,” she ended up saying, stunned. “I guess I see your point.”

[hethrewmyheartinthecut]

Tatiana/esme for coffeeshop au? Only if you feel like it of course!

Oh, I feel like it. I most certainly feel like it.

with your hair down, a Tatiana x Esme fic

 read more like this on ao3 • or my tumblr masterlist

One morning Esme came to work, unlocked the front door, and found a dark-haired woman just sitting there on the edge of the front counter, heel-clad feet swinging back and forth, doing something on her phone. Evidently bored, but holding herself with the feline grace of an aristocrat, clad head to toe in clothing a sleek white pantsuit whose professional effect was absolutely ruined by the black lace crop top she wore underneath.

“I want a croissant,” she said. What accent was that? Russian?

Esme rubbed her eyes and tried to make sense of it all. “We’re not open until six-thirty,” she said. “How did you get in?”

“Two almond croissants. And a quad macchiato.”

“I don’t want to call the police.”

“Then don’t.”

Esme let her massive purse fall to the floor with a thud. “It’s too early in the morning for this. Tell me who you are, or I’ll kick you out myself.”

Without changing the position of her head, the woman looked up. Esme froze. A lesser woman would’ve stepped back. Suit or no, there was nothing civilized about those green eyes. They were purely feral, and nakedly interested.

But then the woman blinked, and it was if a blade had been sheathed. “That’s the level of dedication I like to see in my workers,” she said, giving Esme a sardonic smile and then returning her attention to her phone.

“Your?”

“Check your email.”

Esme pulled out her own phone, and sure enough, buried under an assortment of unasked-for grocery store coupons, sales advertisements for kids’ clothing, requests to schedule parent-teacher conferences, and the occasional chain email from Linda, there was an email from corporate that congratulated Tatiana Petrovna on becoming the youngest person to ever own a Moody’s Coffee. In the email there was a photo, unquestionably of the same woman that now sat on the countertop, with her curly hair swept up into a bun and her flawless face set in a smug smile.

Esme picked up her purse and made her way behind the counter. “What happened to Bob?”

“Who’s that?”

“The previous owner.”

“Dead.”

Esme felt like she should say something about that, like: oh, that’s too bad, but it wasn’t really. He’d been an old, unpleasant, and incompetent. Besides, Tatiana clearly didn’t give a damn. In fact, from this angle, Esme could see her phone, and it was perfectly obvious that Tatiana was just continually swiping left on a wide array of people, mostly uni students, a few professors.

“Two percent, skim, almond, soy?” Esme said.

“Do I look like a vegan to you?”

“That only eliminates two.”

“I don’t care.”

For one sweet moment, Esme fantasized about making the macchiato with half and half instead of milk, or better, just putting a glob of sour cream in a cup with espresso, but then, employment. Employment was good. Or if not good, then at least necessary.

“Skim it is,” she said.

Twenty minutes later, the croissants came out of the oven piping hot. Esme slid them into a brown paper bag, and handed the bag, along with the macchiato, to Tatiana.

Tatiana hopped off the countertop and landing so smoothly that her suit remained immaculate, unstained by even the smallest fleck of macchiato. “Tell Hansen she gets a ten percent raise if she doesn’t fuck up.”

“Tell her yourself,” Esme said, but by then Tatiana was already half-out the door.

In the weeks that followed, Tatiana showed up randomly, never at the same time, never eating the same thing, and wearing a succession of increasingly exquisite clothes, verging on couture. On the very same day that Esme’s oldest stepchild, Katie, got her first period, stained the backseat of their car, and cried about it all the way home, Tatiana showed up at Moody’s Coffee wearing Louboutins. That had Esme feeling some type of way. Nothing positive.

There were other changes, too: the old uniforms of ugly green polo shirts and black pants were replaced by graphic tees and jeans; the menu shortened but the list of weekly specials grew; the corporate décor disappeared overnight, replaced by cozy, eclectic, bean-bag-and-lamp style pieces. It all seemed utterly suited to the aesthetic of a hip college town, but utterly antithetical to Tatiana’s aesthetic in all its red-lipped, stiletto glory. But she clearly didn’t disapprove; the Saturday after the renovations, she appeared before even the bakers, somehow having managed to discover a way to lie languorously, elegantly even, across two beanbags with a bottle of wine and a massive Russian tome.

About three weeks in, Esme showed up to work an afternoon shift and Tatiana was behind the counter, leaning against the back wall, phone in hand, but watching with keen interest everything that poor Carter and Fiona were doing.

“Move,” Esme said.

“Why?”

“The three o’clock classes get out in ten minutes, and I won’t have the time to be reaching around you to get at the rack of syrups.”

“Mm.” Tatiana moved back into the corner and stood so still that in the midst of the rush, Esme forgot she was there at all, until a girl in a Canada Goose coat leaned over and tapped Tatiana on the shoulder. Now this, Esme wanted to see. If only because she loathed every fool who bought an $800 jacket when a $150 would do.

“Hey. Are you the manager?” the girl said.

“The owner,” said Tatiana, slightly through her teeth.

“Look, I’m not trying to cause trouble, but she misspelled my name.” The girl pointed at Fiona, who, bless her, looked petrified. “Sorry,” she said.

“What’s your name?” Tatiana had a way of making every word sound desultory, but it didn’t stop the girl a bit. She barrelled on.

“It’s not Claire, C. L. A. I. R. E., it’s Clare, C. L. A. R. E.”

“Ah.” Tatiana stared at her, magnificently, transparently bored.

“So?” Clare said.

“Would you like me to do something?”

“Tell your employees to spell my name properly, maybe?”

“I really am sorry,” said Fiona.

“Alternatively?” said Tatiana.

Clare’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Alternatively…” With the flick of one finger, Tatiana knocked over the cup, and it tipped over sideways, spilling a hot brown stream onto the girl’s winter boots.

The girl took a step back, and Esme could see the precise moment when denial turned to rage. “You know what? I’m going two blocks down, and I’m getting it from Starbucks! I’m getting everything from Starbucks from now on!”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” said Tatiana. Her red lips lifted in that feline smile. “Starbucks will be closing soon. I hear the building’s been cursed.”

The girl looked over at Esme, as if seeking reassurance that this was all a practical joke. Esme smiled a placid and flat-eyed smile right back at her. Clare left.

The next day, there was a plaque up on the wall with Tatiana on it. The bio underneath might have been printed in a cutesy font, the swirl of midnight blue might have been well in keeping with the whimsy of the coffeeshop, but there was no amount of design that could render Tatiana’s sheer magnetic arrogance and beauty into something friendly. Even in a photo.

That plaque got plenty of use. Tatiana showed up during every rush, morning, noon, and night, for nine days straight, expertly weaving between the workers and taking orders just like the rest with a smile about a hundred watts too bright for comfort. Clack clack clack went her heels on the tile. Her misspellings became too aggressive to be mistaken for a mistake. At every complaint, she pointed at the plaque.

Pay improved. A few people vanished, without any clear confirmation about whether they’d been fired or just quit. Esme didn’t complain. She found she was enjoying the reign of this new tyrant, even though the tyrant’s benevolence was still an open question.

Even after that nine-day sprint, Tatiana occasionally showed up during the rush. Sometimes she jumped in, doing everything from cappuccinos to taking out the trash; other times, she demanded (and received) free pastries.

“She’s so rude,” said Carter, late one Friday night, at closing.

“That’s exactly why people love her,” said Fiona.

“I’m just scared of her,” he said.

“She’s like a neighborhood cat that only bites,” Fiona added. “It’s fun for them. It’s a bit of personality.”

“But how long before we start losing customers?” said Esme.

“I don’t know, but month over month sales have gone up by six percent,” said Hanson. “I think it’s working.”

“We’ll see,” said Esme.

Except the next week, the Starbucks two blocks down closed and Moody’s got even busier.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” Fiona gripped Esme’s arm hard. “Look. That’s the guy.”

Esme peered over the counter at the blonde man picking up a copy of the Wall Street Journal in the corner store opposite Moody’s Coffee. “You’re kidding.”

“Who?” Carter craned his neck.

“That’s the only man I’ve ever seen Tatiana swipe right on. There have been four women, and one man. That’s the man.”

All three stared breathlessly until he disappeared down the street.

“He was tall,” said Fiona admiringly.

“Not that tall,” said Carter.

“You’re five foot seven, what would you know about tall?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“He seems rich. Like sugar daddy rich. Do you think Tatiana has a sugar daddy?”

“Why would she need one?” Esme said.

“Why indeed,” said Tatiana, appearing as if by magic from the back room.

Fiona and Carter scattered.

“You might enjoy it,” Esme said.

“Mm, the long game’s much too much work, and men are not dependable. Take it from me, Esme, all meat tastes better when you’ve hunted it yourself.”

“Spoken like a true heiress, with no spouse, no parents, and no children.”

“Doesn’t make me wrong.”

Tatiana was right, of course, but Esme couldn’t bring herself to say it, so she just gave Tatiana one last look and turned back to the whipped cream.

Nobody ever saw the blonde man again.

This sexual harassment training video had to have been made in the eighties. At first, Esme thought she could tolerate the old graphics and the quasi-elevator music, but then the man in the example said honkers and she burst out laughing.

“Let’s just get through this,” said Hanson grimly.

“No, she’s right,” said Tatiana from the back, at her most sardonic. Hanson flipped on the lights.

“How long have you been here?” said Fiona.

“Too long.” Tatiana walked to the front of the room. “I’m taking over this education. The video’s far too complicated. It’s a simple calculation. Sexual harassment is just a flavor of bullshit with very specific consequences: if you do it, you lose an ear. If you don’t, you live your life.” She produced a folding knife and opened it up. “Bullshit.” She closed it again. “No bullshit.” Opened it “Bullshit.” Closed it. “No bullshit. Now let’s have a demonstration. Who wants to be sexually harassed today?”

The workers at Moody’s Coffee were almost acclimated to Tatiana to the point where the production of a knife and a few threats of bodily harm surprised no one. Still, only Esme raised her hand. She had really developed a taste for Tatiana’s nonsense.

“Are you sure?” said Tatiana, with a hint of amusement.

Esme leaned back in her chair. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Esme Shelby,” Tatiana said, “The uniform replacements were worth every penny, if only because your tits were absolutely wasted behind those old baggy green shirts.” She turned to the workers and flipped the knife open. “Bullshit. You see?”

“Not sure I’d call that bullshit,” Esme said.

“For the purposes of your education. Now, let’s try a different kind of compliment. Esme, great job today. You really impressed me by getting every order out without a single spill.”

“Snore,” said Esme.

Tatiana flipped the knife closed. “But it wasn’t bullshit. Everyone’s ears stay attached.”

“Kind of mild, wasn’t it?” said Esme.

“What?”

“Your bullshit example.”

“You’d like another?”

“Sure.”

Tatiana stared at her directly. “Esme, every day that I come into this shop, I think to myself: I hope her husband has the stamina of an Arabian horse. Because if I were him, I would make it my personal mission to eat that pussy every single day, and twice on Sundays.”

“Oh, he’s been dead two years now.”

Tatiana, for once, had nothing immediately ready to say.

“But thanks,” Esme added lightly. “He did have a fantastic tongue.”

“I think you’ve got your point across, Petrovna,” said Hanson severely.

“Class dismissed,” said Tatiana.

It was soft and sunny despite the dreadful cold, and during an early afternoon lull, Esme was the only one behind the counter. Having already wiped down the counter, she fell into a reverie. It was broken all too soon by Tatiana saying, sounding for the first time a little anxious, “Did that woman just leave her baby behind in a fucking coffeeshop?”

Esme looked over the counter. Yes, there was a baby in a big black plastic carrier. Fussing. Oh, this was not good. Esme knew that sound. “They’re going to start crying any second now.”

“What do I do?”

“Just talk to them.”

Tatiana leaned over the carrier. Lit like that by the sunlight coming in rays through the windows, she could’ve been a Madonna. But then she spoke. “Ultimately,” she said, “I think you’ll find that life is far better without any parents.”

The baby began to cry.

“Jesus, not like that,” said Esme.

Tatiana shot her a scowl, then turned back to the baby and made her voice a shade softer and several notes lower. “Hello,” she said gravely. Then she blew gently into the baby’s face.

The baby started crying harder.

“Fucking hell. Switch,” ordered Esme, coming out from behind the counter as Tatiana, chagrined, did as she was told. “What was that?”

“It usually works on horses,” Tatiana said.

“On horses? What, have you never seen a baby before?” Esme picked the baby up and cuddled it close. It quieted down a little.

“I’ve seen them, of course, but they’re always other people’s babies.”

“Have you ever held one?”

“I couldn’t.”

“The mum’s not going to care whether it’s you or me. If she comes back at all. And they’ll be fine, as long as you don’t drop them. They’re old enough to hold up their head. Aren’t you?” Esme cooed. “You’ve got a good strong neck.”

The baby considered this, then sneezed into Esme’s shoulder.

“Tatiana, come here.”

Tatiana hesitated.

“It’s the best feeling in the world, come on. Come on.”

“Fine.”

Tatiana held the baby gingerly at first, like it might bite her. The baby looked quizzically at her with their enormous brown eyes.

“It doesn’t like it,” Tatiana said, trying to give the baby back.

Esme stepped away. “Just relax.” Rifling through the diaper bag, she found a soother neatly labeled Christie May and a cup of cereal labeled the same. But no kind of return address anywhere.

“Pardon me.” There was a customer at the counter. Esme’s old statistics professor, to be exact. Damn.

“I’ll be right with you,” she called. “Here.” She passed the soother to Tatiana. “Stick that in her mouth if she starts crying again. Pat her on the back a little too, babies like that.”

Esme had three customers to get through after the professor, but when another lull came, she looked over and saw Tatiana dutifully patting away. After a little while, the baby opened her tiny mouth in a big O of a yawn.

Peace reigned in the coffeeshop, or at least until the door swung open.

“Oh! Hello. Did you make a friend, Christie May?” the mother cooed, making a beeline for the baby and taking her back from Tatiana as if nothing had happened. Tatiana made a face of disgust.

“She was crying,” Esme said. She figured it was better to speak than to have Tatiana say anything.

“Say bye-bye to the nice lady! Bye bye!”

A muscle twitched in Tatiana’s jaw.

“There’s a daycare center just three blocks down Division Street,” said Esme.

“Oh, I know,” the mother said airily. “But I was only gone for twenty minutes. Wasn’t I, sweetheart? Wasn’t I?”

The baby gurgled.

“See?” said the mother, as if that proved something. She put the baby in the carrier, picked up the diaper bag, and headed for the door.

“I’m calling Child Protective Services,” Tatiana shouted after her.

“Well?” said Esme.

“It was alright,” Tatiana said grudgingly.

Esme rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome.”

Esme blinked blearily awake against the punishing morning light. Pounding head, dry mouth. What was this? A flashback to her undergraduate days?

“Here.” One syllable, but the voice was unmistakably Tatiana’s. A glass of water was shoved in Esme’s face, and Esme accepted it.

“Where are the kids?” she croaked.

“At your father’s house. It’s Saturday.”

“I thought it was Friday.”

“It was, but now it’s Saturday.”

“Oh Jesus.”

Tatiana was sitting on the nightstand, sipping apple juice from a kids’ juicebox and looking entirely unsympathetic. Esme went back in her memory to try and figure out if she deserved any of this.

“We got drunk last night,” Esme said.

“Yes. Kids were at your father’s, and it was your night off.”

That sounded about right. Tatiana had closed up shop with her, then offered to share a bottle of rum. That much made sense. “Okay.” Esme set the empty glass down, tried to dig deeper into her memory. “Did I drink vodka?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Why did I drink vodka? I hate vodka.”

“No, you like vodka. When it’s mixed with grapefruit juice and rum and curaçao.”

“What?”

“Get dressed.”

“Nnf.” It was all too much. Esme buried her head in her pillow, only to have it yanked out from under her head. “Why?”

“We have to go to the city. There’s that Christmas dinner with your in-laws.”

“Oh, fuck.” Esme sat up. “We?”

“You invited me to come along, last night. You said, and I quote: ‘I want to see the look on Tommy Shelby’s face when I roll up to his stupid mansion with a woman richer than he is on my arm.’”

“That does sound like something I would say.”

“And then you said you wanted to find his knighthood ribbon and flush it down a toilet.”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“But you want to.”

“You’re not going to do it either.”

“But I want to!”

“You’re not coming.”

“What, you’re going to make the four-hour drive all by yourself?” Tatiana rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and meet me out front, or we’ll be unfashionably late.”

“Tatiana.”

“Mm?”

“Did we have sex?”

“While you were that drunk? Of course not, it would be cheating you of the full Petrovna experience.” With a wink, she shut the bedroom door behind her.

Thanks to the gift of single motherhood, Esme could sleep anywhere, anytime, for as long as she was allowed, so when Tatiana shook her awake, she found herself in Tommy’s neighborhood. God, the place was horrid, with its wrought-iron gates, manicured lawns, and unfiltered bullshit.

“We’re half an hour late!” Tatiana chirped. “This will be good.” She got out of the car. Esme stumbled out after her.

“Wait, shouldn’t we coordinate on–”

Tatiana had produced a garment bag from the trunk of her car. “It’s the holidays, Esme. Did you think I’d come underdressed?” She passed another bag to Esme. “Or that I’d let you?” She opened the car door. “Go on, the windows are tinted for a reason.”

Esme wanted to argue, but this was her only good dress, the same dress that she’d worn to the last Christmas dinner, which Polly would undoubtedly notice. And she was curious.

The bag turned out to contain a sleeveless dark blue sequined number and a matching set of diamond chandelier earrings and a necklace. Damn. Esme had been expecting something more like a shirt with a middle finger printed on it, but come to think of it, this was better. This was much better.

“How’d you pick the fit?” she asked, when she emerged.

“I’m observant.” Tatiana disappeared into the car and came out wearing a cream-colored dress embellished with seemingly dozens, maybe hundreds of tiny pearls. And a fur shrug.

“Good job Ada’s not coming, else you’d get an earful for that.” Saying it was really an excuse for Esme to poke the fur as they walked towards Tommy’s house. It was just as soft as it looked.

“I can take on all comers.”

“I don’t doubt it, but you’ll have your hands full with Polly and Tommy. And Arthur, if he gets offended.”

“And Linda.”

How much had Esme told her while drunk, exactly? Oh well, it was too late to find out. “Definitely Linda,” she agreed.

“We’ll have a good time. It’s always easier to ruin a party when you’re not the host.”

Tatiana rapped on the front door as Esme looked over the big white architectural monstrosity in front of them, with its stupid balcony and its myriad of windows.

“I hate this place,” Esme said.

“I’ve stayed in larger summer homes than this,” Tatiana said. And somehow, that did make Esme feel better about it all.

The door was opened by none other than Tommy himself, in his customary suit, looking every inch as infuriating as the last time she’d seen him, which by no coincidence was the last dinner.

“What, no butler?” said Esme.

He cleared his throat and gave Esme a meaningful look. “We’ve had trouble with servants before.”

She rolled her eyes and brushed past him. “You’re always having trouble.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” he said.

“Tatiana, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is Tatiana.”

“Her brother-in-law,” said Tommy, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a second, Esme forgot that bringing Tatiana along was only a prank, and got more than a little annoyed that he wouldn’t just shake her hand.

But Tatiana tilted her hand and gave a lovely smile. “Her sugar daddy.” With that, she handed over the fur to Tommy, as if he were a footman, and swept down the hallway, latching onto Esme’s arm.

“What was that?” Esme murmured under her breath.

“Thought you said you wanted a rich woman on your arm.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s perfect. What better way to annoy them than to go over their heads?”

To be fair, there was nothing Tommy liked less than a competing power. And even if it wasn’t true, it would be delicious to make him think for a moment that the only hold he had on her (the trust he’d put together for the children’s college education) was no longer relevant.

“Just eat your food and enjoy the show,” said Tatiana, and then it was the dining room, and introductions.

Tatiana was at her most charming through the fourth course, and then, sometime during the fifth, Polly put down her fork and said, in that deliberate, clear voice that Esme hated: “So, Tatiana, what is it you do for work?”

“I sell coffee.”

“Ah.”

“And jewels. Art, books, cheese. Used to sell vodka. But now I only drink it.” She smiled brightly. “And I’m getting my master’s in psychology.”

“What is that, the study of psychos?” Arthur guffawed.

“Yes.” Tatiana didn’t look over; she and Polly were engaged in some sort of a staredown that left Esme on the edge of her seat and also possibly a little horny.

“Jewels?” said Tommy, breaking it up. It was the first he’d spoken for quite some time.

“All kinds,” said Tatiana, and all right, Esme did not care for the way her voice seemed to have dropped half an octave down.

“And what did you say your last name was?”

“I didn’t.”

Tommy pushed his chair back from the table, stood, and left. The east wing, Esme thought; his office. Maybe making a call. Maybe–

“Bathroom?” said Tatiana.

Polly pointed down the west wing. “Four downs the hall.”

“Thanks.” Tatiana got up and went in the opposite direction. Right after Tommy.

Polly was halfway out of her chair to follow when Esme said her name.

“What?” Polly snapped.

“There’ something I need to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“These mushrooms. They’re perfect. Could you share the recipe with me?”

“You know we have a cook,”

“Of course, I’m sorry,” Esme said.

Finn, in a desperate attempt to rescue the situation, sallied forth. “Aunt Linda, have you seen any good movies lately?”

And then it was nothing but the most stilted of small talk while Arthur got drunker and drunker and Esme and Polly sniped at each other, until Tommy and Tatiana returned, Tommy with the faintest traces of bruises beginning to form on his neck, and Tatiana wearing lipstick two shades darker than the one she’d been wearing when she left the table. Less like scarlet, more like blood.

Esme had to hand it to her; she knew how to crash a party. Even Arthur, seven drinks in, looked absolutely horrified. Esme found herself feeling nothing but proud. And maybe a little jealous.

“What did I miss?” said Tatiana.

Tommy didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and was instead focusing all his attention on chewing a piece of beef.

“Oh, nothing much,” said Esme. “Finn wants to go see the latest Batman movie.”

When they got to the car, Esme collapsed into laughter. “So?” she said, when she had finally caught her breath. By then, they were on the highway. “Did you fuck, or did you fight?”

“Yes.” Tatiana glanced over. “Are you jealous?”

“Why?”

“He’s an eight.”

“He’s a five, and I bet he’s a rotten lay.” Childishly, Esme hoped this would yield some details.

“I can see where you’re coming from,” said Tatiana thoughtfully, fishing a cigarette from her purse with one hand. “Widowers, especially the sad ones, can be a drag. So weepy.” She lit the cigarette. “But if you get the right one, it can be delightful. They fuck with such desperation.”

“Ah.” And there it was, the core of the annual Shelby fight: there were too many empty spots at the table where the people they loved should be sitting, and hating each other was easier than thinking about it.

“Hey.” Tatiana caught her before she could slide too far down into that particular pit of horrors. “Cheer up. I got you something.”

“What?”

“Look in the zipper pocket of my purse.”

“Is this…?”

“I dub thee Lady Esme Shelby, Duchess of Cappuchino.”

“You know what?” Esme pinned Tommy’s knighthood ribbon to her dress. “I think I’ll keep it.”

“Merry Christmas, Esme.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Esme didn’t see Tatiana for two days, and then she showed up at closing, just after Carter had left and Esme was the only one in the shop.

“Hey,” said Esme.

Tatiana sauntered up to the counter. “I got you something.” She slid three envelopes across. In the first were two season passes to the orchestra. In the second, a key. In the third, cash. All in different denominations, twenties, tens, fives, ones. Nonsequential, too. Esme checked.

“You said Katie wants to be be a flautist,” Tatiana said. “So, orchestra.”

Esme looked up. “What is this?”

“Am I not your sugar daddy?”

“I thought that was a joke.”

“I could take them back and get a refund. But put it all together, and it’s still not enough to buy a bottle of 1811 Château d'Yquem.”

“No, I’ll take it.”

Tatiana smirked.

“What?”

“You’re proud about money with Tommy, but not with me.”

“Among his casualties, whether he admits it or not, is my husband. Among your casualties is nobody I care about.”

“You assume I’ve caused deaths.”

“I find it better to assume guilt than otherwise, at this point. Anyways, nobody who wears a five thousand dollar dress is innocent.”

Tatiana appeared to absorb this. Esme could see the wheels turning in her head. “What are you doing on Saturday?” Tatiana said.

“Why?”

“I could find you a babysitter.”

“And?”

“You could find out what’s underneath the five thousand dollar dress.”

Esme couldn’t read her. “Is this because widows fuck with such delightful desperation?”

“No.”

“Is this because you’re experimenting with becoming a sugar daddy?”

“No.”

“Is this some long-con sexual harassment example?”

“Esme. This is only because of you.”

Esme searched her green eyes for a hint of laughter, but for the first time, there was nothing but honesty. That was more terrifying than all of Tatiana’s bullshit smiles put together.

Esme leaned over the counter and kissed her.

Her hair was just as soft as Esme always imagined, and she licked and bit at Esme’s lips just the same. But it was good in ways Esme had never thought of, had not felt in a long, long time.

“You look different with your hair down,” Esme murmured, finally.

“I look different with my clothes off, too.”

“I’ve got kids at home, a babysitter that can’t do overnight. And in-laws that I can’t get rid of, and some other people that make me stick close to home, always get paid in cash, and keep my pictures off the internet. You know that?”

“I do. That’s what this is for.“ Tatiana tapped the second envelope. “I know when you’ve got a day off. I’ll be waiting.”

That was a good, dramatic moment for her to walk out, but she kept standing there, looking at Esme like a fallen angel, all lipstick and bad decisions, and Esme couldn’t help it. She kissed her again.

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Defending Honor

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Rating: PG

Original Idea: I don’t know. This just kinda came to me.

Notes: (Masterlist)(About Me) Don’t lie. This dork would totally do this. (Side note: thestarkster is a play on Tony’s contact name in Rhodey’s phone in the first Iron Man movie. At least, that’s what it always looked like it said to me.)

“Defending Honor”

^^^^^

“Spider-Man!” the reporter shouted, catching Peter off-guard. He stopped what he was doing and turned to look. “Can I please just ask you a couple questions?”

“I, uh… I got work to do…” he trailed off, vaguely pointing in a direction down the street.

“I promise it’ll only take a couple moments. Please!”

“Uh… okay.” He stepped closer to the reporter, making sure his mask was still safely tucked down.

The news camera guy that was with the reporter turned the lens on Spider-Man.

A little red light turned on. It was recording.

“So, you’re the only Avenger whose civilian identity isn’t known, apart from Brown Recluse but people have seen her face—just no confirmed real name. How does that affect team dynamics?” the reporter asked in his interview voice.

“Well, just because my civilian identity isn’t known to the public doesn’t mean that the rest of the team doesn’t know. Well, some of them do, some of them don’t. It definitely doesn’t affect my ability to help them save the world or combat crime in my home city,” Peter replied, doing nothing to hide his sarcasm.

“What about your teammates? Some of them are really hot aren’t they?”

“Well, I mean, I guess some ladies—and men too, I suppose—find Captain America quite handsome…” Peter wasn’t entirely sure what the reporter was getting at. Under his mask, his eyebrows were scrunched in confusion. The eyes of his suit narrowed to show that confusion.

“I was meaning that new recruit, Brown Recluse. She’s pretty hot isn’t she?”

“‘Hot’?” Peter quoted incredulously. “Hot?!” He should have dropped it but that ugly term for a teammate he admired made his blood boil. “Brown Recluse is one of the smartest members of the team. And on a team of incredibly intelligent people—including Tony Stark—being one of the smartest is saying something. She’s a capable fighter and absolutely hilarious to be around. How dare you lower her value? She is so much more than a pretty face! Brown Recluse has one of the best hearts and brightest brains I’ve ever encountered. Brown Recluse is not hot. She is beautiful and powerful and an uncontainable force of nature. Never downgrade her worth to a single-syllable, single objectifying word!” he ranted angrily.

Before the reporter could ask any more questions, he launched himself into the air and swung off. He could sense the camera follow him until he swung out of sight around the corner.

He picked up his backpack in the alley he’d left it in and headed home.

When he finally got back to his and May’s apartment, the sun had gone down.

May appeared to be out somewhere.

Peter released the tension in his suit by pressing the emblem on his chest. It fell off of him. He stored it in the bottom of his backpack, under his school supplies, and pulled on some sweats and his oversized light grey sweatshirt. He ran his hands through his hair—which had curled from sweat—and collapsed on the bottom bunk of his bunk bed with a heavy sigh.

Why had he agreed to an interview? Great. His first as an official Avenger and he screws it up. Though, not through any fault of his own. That reporter hadn’t exactly seemed like a feminist. Honestly, how could that guy even say something like that to Peter’s face?

Peter was a bit surprised he hadn’t decked the reporter.

Still fuming, he started his homework, completing it fairly quickly and then getting ready for bed. May came home with groceries while he was brushing his teeth so he paused his task and went to help her.

Soon after they finished, he got ready for bed and fell asleep.

^^^^^

Vzzt! Vzzt! His phone buzzed.

Peter sat up, his hair a small floof around his head, eyes narrowed against the light streaming through his window. “Wha—?” he muttered.

His hand smacked around his bed and bedside table searching for his phone.

When he finally found it, he squinted at the bright light of his screen. After he blinked a couple times, letters came into focus. He had a text message from a familiar contact name.

Lovely Recluse: Have you seen this?

At the bottom of the text, there was a link to a YouTube video. Peter selected it and let it load. The channel was the official one for a local news station.

It was the video of his interview, titled Spider-Man Defends His Female Teammate!

Peter groaned, plugging his headphones in and listening to it. He sounded angrier in the video than he felt in the moment—which wasn’t a bad thing, he decided, but it would probably give Mr. Stark’s PR team a bit of a headache.

Once the video was finished—it wasn’t very long—he texted her back.

Peter: No I hadn’t seen it.

Lovely Recluse: … Really? Wow.

Lovely Recluse: So, uh, permission to kiss you full on the mouth next time I see you.

Peter: What for?

Lovely Recluse: Defending my honor, I guess?

Peter: XD Permission granted.

Lovely Recluse: Thanks. Can’t wait to see you again.

Peter: Now that you’ve said that, me neither.

Lovely Recluse: ;-)

^^^^^

A smile split up my face the second Peter walked in the room. I leapt to my feet, vaulted over the back of the sofa, ran straight at him, put my hands on either side of his face, and planted my lips right on his.

His hands lifted and cradled my face too as he kissed me back passionately. It was deep and made my chest soar.

It lasted way too long to anyone else, but not long enough to me. I tried to pour all my gratitude and appreciation into simple contact between our lips and hands. I hoped he received it. Because I was grateful to him for sticking his neck out like that to the whole world. He was a good kid. And I hoped that he understood that with how desperately I pressed my lips to his.

When he opened his eyes, he gave me a big smile. “Why didn’t you tell me you were such a good kisser?” he teased. I giggled, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“I guess I didn’t know I was a good kisser,” I replied.

He chuckled and lightly brushed his lips against mine again.

“What was that for?” I asked. “Mine was in gratitude for defending my honor.”

He grinned. “Nothing in particular,” he decided. “I’m just grateful for your gratitude. It’s always nice that someone appreciates your actions. Plus you’re a great kisser and one day I might want to know that again.”

“You’re much better at flirting than I would have initially thought, Spidey.”

“Why thank you!”

^^^^^

Peter and I were chilling in the common area, both of us on our phones. I was on the loveseat and Peter was sprawled kiddie corner on the sofa. The TV was on, but it was some ridiculous soap opera, the remote was nowhere in sight (someone probably hid it as a prank), and we didn’t know how to change the channel any other way. I’d seen some flat-screens with hidden buttons on top that would operate the controls, but this one was too thin.

So we just ignored it in favor of our phones.

Peter groaned. I looked up from Tumblr. “What’s wrong?” I asked curiously.

He twisted so he could hand me his phone. I took it.

“Instagram?” I wondered. He pulled a face but didn’t reply. I didn’t have an Instagram—much to Peter and Tony’s constant irritation—so I wasn’t sure what the screen was in front of me.

“Just look,” Peter remarked.

I took his phone from him.

The username obviously was Tony’s—thestarkster—but I was more interested in the photo.

It was the kiss between me and Peter. The angle was such that neither of our faces could really be seen. In the front was Peter’s curlier hair, blocking most of my face, except the side. I could see the mole on my cheek and my long hair hanging loose—definitely giving away it was me.

The caption read Brown Recluse kissing an intern, followed by five kissy-lips emojis.

I groaned too.

“Right?” Peter exclaimed.

“Well, at least he didn’t accidentally almost-out you by saying I was kissing Spider-Man,” I reasoned. “So that’s good for you.”

“Yeah, but read some of the responses.”

I scrolled through a couple of them. They were mostly along the lines of wondering what I was thinking, wishing that the responder was that lucky intern, and a whole lot of speculating about why I was kissing the seemingly-random Stark Industries intern.

“I mean, honestly,” Peter began. “If Tony thought that my reckless interview was going to be a PR nightmare, this picture’s going to be even worse. He’ll have to release some sort of explanatory statement about context so no one is snarling at his or your throats about what this is all about. And if you two don’t coordinate, the stories will probably conflict hard.”

I snorted. “Which would actually be hilarious,” I pointed out.

“True. But not so much for Tony.”

“Who cares? He got himself into that mess.”

Peter grunted agreement as I handed him back his phone and relaxed back into his position on the sofa. He went back to mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, and I went back to Tumblr, kicking my feet up onto the arm of the loveseat.

“Hey,” Peter began after a moment. He sat up properly and turned to look at me. Curiously, I followed suit. “Um, so, I was thinking… uh, that… maybe, uh… at some point I could, uh, take you out to dinner or breakfast or for ice cream or to that music festival in Central Park?” He paused. “Whatever… whatever you’d be comfortable with,” he added courteously. I couldn’t help but grin.

“I would love to, Mr. Honor Defender,” I replied.

He blushed but grinned. “Great!”

I chuckled. “Can’t wait.”

“Now that you’ve said that, me neither.”

[folklore-musings]

Camera Shy part 7

Summary:  AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him.

Read on AO3 here

Find previous chapters on Tumblr here (Just search a little. I know I need to make a master list).

A/N:  Thank you @Riverdalelovee for giving me the idea for their date - I was completely clueless. The response on this story is mind blowing. Thank you so much to all of you who read and comment and kudos, you are the reason I continue to update as often (sorry this one took a while longer - I apologize, I struggled a lot with it and if you follow me on tumblr I've been pretty stuck in the O.C.) Anyway, this chapter was really difficult for me for some reason and I'm sorry if that shows in my writing. I hope that you like and comment anyway. You all are so amazing. Thank you <3

Betty wakes up with an awful kink in her neck. She blinks a few times, forgetting for a moment how she ended up in the position she was in. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to her surroundings, face to face with Jughead’s chest. His right arm is wrapped protectively around her waist and they are both naked beneath the throw blanket. A smile forms on her lips and she places a soft kiss against his heart. She looks up at him under sleepy eyelashes and sighs. He looks so serene with his mouth parted slightly, breathing deeply while he sleeps. She’s careful to extract herself from his hold, rolling off the couch and onto the floor. Jughead stirs, but doesn’t wake up.

Exhaling a sigh of relief Betty tiptoes to her room to change. She grabs an old pair of sweat pants and smirks, sneaking into Jughead’s room and grabbing one of her favorite T-shirts of his. She throws it on, the soft cotton smooth against her skin. Betty hopes he won’t mind.

After brushing her teeth and preparing for a lazy day cuddled up on the couch at home, Betty moves into the kitchen and begins to make breakfast. Her mind whirls over the events of the past 48 hours. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have imagined that she’d end up with Jughead. They’d been friends since they were seven years old, brought together by their shared friendship with Archie.  

Throughout the years, and once Veronica had entered their lives, Betty and Jughead had sort of fell in step with each other, Archie no longer the anchor holding them all together. Despite for the singular kiss they shared at a party back in high school, Betty hadn’t considered Jughead as a romantic interest in her life. Surely she’d witnessed the way he would watch her when she caught him looking but she’d push the thoughts aside and ignore them. Now she wished she hadn’t.

“Mmm… good morning little lady.”  A pair of strong hands wrap around Betty’s waist. Nimble fingers toy with the strings dangling from the front of her pants. “Are those pancakes for me?”

“You did not just call me that.” Betty warns, turning around and tapping his shoulder with the spatula in her hand. “You’re naked.”

Jughead reaches for the apron hanging on the pantry door and fits it around his body snugly. “Is this better?” He turns his back towards her and Betty laughs, her eyes gazing over his backside where the knot of the apron sits just above his butt.

“Jughead I’ve known you for most of my life, and I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

He walks over to her and kisses her shoulder. “I’m just really happy, Betty. That’s all. By the way, I like you wearing my clothes.” Betty blushes and pours some more pancake batter onto the skillet. She feels something poke the back of her thigh and she turns on him.

“No. No more sex.” She laughs, trying to keep a straight face while wagging the spatula at him.

Jughead holds up his hands in surrender. “I can’t control Little Jughead. He has a mind of his own.” He reaches down and rubs himself over the apron. Betty bites her lip, feeling the heat flush to her neck and over her cheeks. She shakes her head at an attempt to regain her composure.

Betty places her hands on her hips. “You want me?” she asks and Jughead nods his head in excitement. “Good. Take me on a date first.” At that she turns her attention back to the stove smiling to herself, amazed at her own self-control. Although who was she kidding. Jughead made her body feel electric. There was no way she’d be able to hold him off for long.

After eating breakfast they decide to spend the day wrapped up in one another on the couch. A movie plays in the background while Betty watches as Jughead edits the photos he took the day before, blushing and covering her face with her hands. “Betty stop, you look amazing. These are nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Jughead grabs her hands kisses the tips of her fingers. Betty melts at the touch of his lips. A shiver snakes its way down her spine and she looks up at him, her breath caught in her throat. If he continues to look at her that way she will lose all of her resolve.

“I know Jug, you did a wonderful job. You are truly gifted with a camera.”

Betty is awestruck by the pictures. When she looks at herself in the mirror while she’s changing all she ever sees are her faults, each one worse than the other. But in Jughead’s pictures Betty is anything but shy. Whether it’s the angles or Jughead’s magic touch when it came to cameras, Betty is unable to spot any of her flaws in his photos. Instead she looks self-assured and poised. The Betty in the pictures keeps her head held high and smiles in a way Betty didn’t know was possible. She’s almost jealous of the girl in the photos, because Betty can’t remember the last time she felt so confident inside her own body.

Betty bows her head and Jughead reaches up to hold her chin. “I think that’s enough editing for today.” He closes his laptop with his free hand and sets it on the coffee table, then leans in to kiss Betty softly. “Did I ever say thank you for yesterday?”

Betty shakes her head, her lips missing his instantly. “Maybe with your body, yes.” She blushes.

Jughead arches an eyebrow and smirks. “Thank you.” He falls back against the couch cushion and pulls Betty to his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She snuggles into the crook of his arm and sighs contently. She could definitely get used to some lazy Sunday afternoons with her favorite beanie boy.

꙰

The week flies by and Jughead can barely believe that it’s already Saturday again. It had been hell, with everything going on at school and work. Jughead is a movie attendant at the theater down the road and the new Marvel movie had just released the night before. It had been a long night full of screaming children, buttery popcorn, and soda spills. Although he couldn’t find much of an excuse to complain, he’d been lucky enough to get two Saturdays off in a row and for that he was grateful.

All week he had spent editing the photos of Betty while trying to concoct the perfect date for them to go on. Regardless of the almost magnetic attraction they had towards each other, Betty had stood her ground. Jughead had barely touched her since the previous Sunday when she mentioned it was time he took her out. He was beginning to go stir crazy.

After speaking with Veronica and bouncing ideas off the only other person who knew Betty as well as Jughead did, he’d finally came up with the perfect date idea. A movie was out of the question, he already spent four nights a week there as it was. And dinner was too common. It would be too much like the old times when they were just friends and hadn’t seen each other naked. He wanted to be able to have fun and make her laugh. Finally he decided on, at least what he thought was the perfect date.

Jughead knocks on Betty’s door around 6 o’clock that evening. She opens it up with her lip between her teeth, text books scattered over her bedspread.

“What’s up?” She asks, tightening her ponytail and rubbing her hands over her stomach to smooth the wrinkles from her sweater.

From behind Jughead’s back appears a single red rose. “We are going to go on a date tonight.” Betty takes the rose from him and lifts it to her nose, smelling the sweet scent. She places it on the table near the door and returns to him, a worried look on her face.

Betty’s eyes are wide as a doe’s. “You’re telling me this now? I need to get ready. I need to do something with my hair. I nee-“

Jughead stops her from speaking, placing a kiss to her cheek. “You’re cute when you’re nervous, you know that?” A deep red hue engulfs Betty’s flustered cheeks and she shrugs, playing with the sleeves of her sweater.

“Thanks. Where are we going?” she asks.

Jughead grabs her hand to keep her from scrounging her closet for an outfit. He hands her one of his favorite T-shirts and tells her to throw it on. “I can’t tell you that. But you may want to change out of your sweater. You’ll get hot.”

Her eyebrow raises in question but she refrains from asking. Betty complies and switches tops in front of his eyes, and Jughead’s suddenly ready to stay at home and spend the night tangled up in her floral sheets, forgetting the world and getting drunk on one another. Just the sight of her black lacy bra has his mind spiraling and it takes him a second to recover. “Is this better?” Betty asks, pulling on the hem of his T-shirt.

Jughead nods and swallows the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah. That’s great. Come on, let’s get going.”

Jughead holds her jacket out for her to slip it on over her shoulders. He takes her by the hand and ushers her out the door and down to the street, signaling for a cab. Without thinking he tells the driver where to take them and Betty laughs. “So much for a surprise, huh? We’re going to an arcade?”

She’s smiling wide and Jughead’s heart is begging to be released from its cage inside his chest. Her smile is contagious and soon Jughead is wearing the same expression on his lips. “Is that OK?” he inquires, holding her hand between them on the backseat, his thumb stroking circles over hers.

She lifts their intertwined hands to her lips and kisses the back of his hand softly. “It’s perfect.”

When they get to the arcade the place is packed with teenagers eager to get away from their parents on a Saturday night. Jughead walks them over to the counter and purchases $40 worth of tokens and a time slot for laser tag. “I haven’t played laser tag in years!” Betty says, clutching onto Jughead’s arm in excitement. Her smile is almost childlike and Jughead swoons. He doesn’t understand the powers this girl has over him, but he is head over heels and weak in the knees for her.

The wait to play laser tag is about an hour long. To kill the time they play all the games their tokens will allow. They play skee ball and Guitar Hero and Mario Kart racing games. The whole time Betty stays near his side, clinging to him like a piece of lint that just won’t go away. He reminds himself to thank Veronica later for helping plan the evening out.

They take a break halfway through to grab some hot dogs and a shake with vanilla shake with two straws from the concessions stand. Inwardly Jughead is berating himself for the two straws. He hated couples that boasted their feelings around for the world to see. But when it came to Betty he could give two fucks about where they were and who was watching, as long as she was in his company.

Jughead spends more time watching Betty play the games than actually playing himself. He doesn’t care about their dwindling tokens because it’s worth every penny to watch Betty in her main element. He had no idea she was such a gamer, and he wasn’t going to lie but it turned him on in the strangest way. All he wants to do is pull her into a dark corner and kiss her until their lips are numb. He wants to twirl her pony tail around his fingers and bite the smooth skin of her neck. “Jughead, what are you looking at?”

He shakes himself from his reverie and grabs one of Betty’s basketballs. He aims for a shot but misses when he feels Betty’s hot breath on the shell of his ear. “Just a pretty girl, that’s all.” He says, his voice quaking.

Betty’s cheeks flush pink and she leans in to kiss him. “Who knew you were so smooth?”

Jughead reaches up and readjusts the beanie on his head. His lips are throbbing for more of her gentle kisses. He repeats to himself that all good things come to those who wait. “Smooth as silk.” He replies, smirking and taking another shot. This time the ball goes soaring through the net with a swish.

He realizes this may be the cheesiest date he’s ever been on but it’s definitely one for the books. Jughead’s astounded by Betty’s extreme competitiveness, finding it charming and even a little bit scary. She takes everything so seriously and it makes him laugh. It’s not like he is trying to let her win either, somehow she is just good at everything. He figures if it puts a smile on Betty’s face he’ll lose to her forever, depending on the circumstance.

They’re playing Trivia when their turn gets announced over the loud speaker. Betty forgets the game and grabs his hand, pulling him over the laser tag arena. Jughead glances around at all the teenagers and the glint in Betty’s eyes. She tightens her hair and pulls on the light up vest.

They choose opposite teams and Betty blows him a kiss as she makes her way over to her base with the rest of the blue team. It feels like a kiss of doom to come but Jughead lets it happen. Laser tag is probably one of the only games he’s actually semi decent at. “Hey Betty!” he calls after her retreating figure, enjoying the way her hips swing from side to side as she walks.

She turns around, aiming her gun at his chest. “What do you want Jones?”

Jughead smirks and removes the beanie from his head, tucking it safely in his back pocket. He runs to close the space between them. “I bet you…” he looks around to make sure no one’s within hearing distance, thank goodness the music is loud around them. “…a blow job that I get more hits than you.”

Betty throws her head back with a laugh and holds her hand out for a shake. “Deal. But if I win, we get to do it my way.” She licks her lips and Jughead feels a tightness in his jeans.

“Fuck, OK. Bring it on Cooper.”

Jughead can see the lust in her eyes before she turns away and his feet turn to stone. Although a blow job is on the line, there’s no doubt he’s curious as to what Betty may have up her sleeve for them when they return home. The intrigue almost makes him want to let her win. Almost.

When the game starts it’s as if they are the only two people in the arena. Jughead makes his way through the obstacles with all the stealth he can muster. The red and blue hues from the lights make it hard to distinguish Betty from the others on her team. There’s at least three other girls wearing blonde ponytails and it dizzies his mind. “Where is she?” he wonders aloud, checking the hit count on his handgun. If he didn’t find her soon before she finds him he was going to lose.

“Looking for someone?” Betty’s sultry voice sounds from behind him. He feels her breath on the back of his neck.

Jughead whips around and Betty’s right there, pinning him to the graffiti filled wall. He lifts his gun to shoot at the sensors on her vest but Betty already beat him to it. “I’m going to win.” She says into his ear, kissing the exposed skin of his neck tenderly. “And you’re going to like it.”

This is a completely different side of Betty than Jughead is used to seeing. She’s all over him, saying things that make his body twitch and toes tingle. She kisses his lips and slips her tongue into his mouth, moaning deep into his touch desperately. “Come and get me.” She taunts and runs away from him, shooting at him over her back as she disappears up a spiral staircase to the next level.

Jughead regains his bearings and points his laser at his base’s target, charging up before following the girl of his dreams into the darkness.

On the second floor there’s five barrels spread out across the empty space. “Betty?” he yells as a younger girl runs by him, shooting him as she goes. He peeks behind each barrel searching for Betty when he hears her voice come from the next room over.

“I see you, but you can’t see me!” His vest lights up and vibrates every time she hits him with a direct shot.

He follows the sound of Betty’s voice into the room and begins to shoot aimlessly, hoping he’ll catch her one way or another. When he finds her he continues to wield his gun, getting her over and over again, the sounds of the target making sweet music to his ears. He may just win this match after all.

They continue to chase each other around the place. Like a game of cat and mouse, they strike over and over again, Jughead already able to feel Betty’s lips around him. There’s no way she can beat him.

By the time the alarm sounds signaling the end of their round his hair is stuck to his forehead, glistening with sweat. He removes the equipment from his body while Betty does the same. Once they’re both ready, they walk together toward the TV’s in the lobby, searching for their names on the scoreboard.

“Jughead J. – 57,742 points.” He says aloud proudly.

Betty nudges his shoulder triumphantly. “Look above your name. Betty C. – 63,420 points.”

Jughead’s jaw drops. “What? There is no way you could’ve beaten me by that much. I swear we were neck in neck the whole time.”

She shrugs and says to him, “Maybe you should’ve paid a little less attention to me and more to the other people on my team. I earned half my points from shooting your teammates. Not you.”

“Oh.” Is all Jughead can think to reply. He knows she’s right, but refuses to offer her the satisfaction of knowing. So he had been a little carried away with catching Betty and only Betty. He couldn’t blame himself. “I guess you win.” He says in defeat.

She grins mischievously and there’s a fire in her eyes Jughead wasn’t aware she possessed. His chest caves in and his lungs strain to catch a breath. “Come on Jug, let me take you home.”

With their fingers laced, Jughead follows her out into the night like a lost puppy dog. He wonders how someone so seemingly sweet and innocent can play so dirty. He has a newfound appreciation for this side of Betty that he didn’t know existed. They hop into a cab and the whole ride home Betty sits in his lap, playing with his hair affectionately, wrapping the sweaty strands around her fingers.

Betty kisses him until his lungs collapse and he can hardly breathe. He tries to come up for air but Betty shakes her head as she kisses the life from him. “I need you so bad.” She breathes into his ear and Jughead is completely gone. He struggles to breathe but he doesn’t care anymore because Betty is in his lap, whispering all the dirty things she wants to do to him in his ear. “Are you ready?” Betty asks as the cab pulls up to their complex.

Jughead replies with a breathless, “Yes,” and tosses the driver some money. He watches as Betty skips up to the front steps, disappearing beyond the front doors and he shakes his head, wondering just what the hell he is about to get himself into.

 *Very kinky very smutty smut to come next*