#But it’s quite literally punching me in the chest today-

[therunaway-writer]

Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish is officially a David, Kristen, and Ben song. I realized how well it fits them awhile ago, and now I genuinely can not listen to it without thinking about them-

(Catch me listening to it on repeat today as the fact that we only have three more episodes with them hits me like a freight train)

[evie-sturns]

Baby - Chris Sturniolo

summary: where chris gets into a fight with his brothers, all he wants is to be close to you.

contains: clingy!chris, fluff.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵

chris bursts through the door, blinking his eyes a couple time before quite literally diving into bed.

the past half an hour the only thing i've heard is chris arguing with his brothers, i tuned it out after 15 minutes but matt sounded extremely angry with nick and chris.

chris lays face down on the pillows, his pale hands balled up into fists at his sides.

"baby, whats going on?" i ask quietly, reaching my hand out and dragging my nails up his warm back.

he shakes his head with a croaky groan, "matt's such a mother fucking-" chris starts, his voice instantly raising in volume.

i cut him off "no- no no chris" i laugh,

"talk about him nicely, please." i giggle, chris sits up in bed, strands of his hair flopping messily against his forehead.

"hes so mean!" chris whines, rubbing his eyes.

he shuffles over to me on the bed, before collapsing down on me. he buries his head into my chest as half his body is draped over mine

"what happened?" i ask with a small smiles, running my nails up and down his bare back.

"apparently i ate his- ate his dinner- but he never told me it was his and he just put it in the fridge!" he rambles,

"was his name on it?" i ask softly, chris pauses for a second before nodding,

"yes- yes but it didn't register in my brain that it was his! i was just distracted."

i scoff slightly, he lifts his head from my chest to look at me,

“no- ma, you’re not listening!” he whines,

my fingers lace their way into his silky brunette locks,

“i’m listening baby, i’m just trying to understand yeah?” i smile, he lets out a small hum before letting his head fall back down.

“i’m so angry at him, he made me upset.” chris says with a cute pout.

“should we go punch him?” i laugh jokingly,

“no-! you’re not understanding!” chris whines,

“i’m just teasing you,” i giggle,

chris snuggles his warm body closer to mine, “you two fight all the time, i’m sure it’s no different this time sweetheart.” i say to chris, scratching his head.

"it is different! hes so mean!" chris repeats himself,

"c'mon, how about we run you a shower." i suggest softly, chris shakes his head.

"i don't want you to keep getting yourself worked up," i smile, chris finally caves in,

"mmmmm..." he hums, i sit up but he rolls on top of me, pinning me down.

"you are such a big baby" i laugh, trying to roll him off me.

"am not!" he cracks a smile finally,

"you soo are." i poke at his ribs, making him squirm.

"i am not!" he protests, grabbing my wrists.

"okay- if you're not a baby then let me get up and turn on the shower for you."

he hesitates for a second, a silence filling the room before he rolls off of me.

i stand up, "see!" he shrugs with a grin.

"mmmhm" i hum, i walk into the bathroom, chris wraps his arms around my back, his chin resting on the crook of my neck.

"why are you so touchy today?" i ask, the corners of my mouth tugging up into a smile.

"i am no-" he starts but cuts himself off.

i turn on the shower, the warm steam filling the room instantly.

i turn around and chris has already stripped, he jumps into the shower and sits down.

"sitting in the shower is crrrazzzy"

i sit down outside the shower, playing with his hair, letting the water dampen it.

he reaches for the soap and instantly starts pumping out multiple pumps,

"christopher- thats my expensive soap-!" i start, but hes already playing with it in his hands.

i reach for the shampoo, pumping it into his hair.

he forms an 'o' with his hands before blowing a bubble with the soap, it floats into the shower stream before popping

"did you see that!" he gasps, his jaw dropped.

he goes for more soap, but i instantly stop him

"nuh uh- nopeee!"

"whhatt! your soap makes awesome bubbles- please?"

--------

a/n: this is based of 2021 chris cause hes all i think abt when i read fics, + i wanted to write abt him as immature aasss fuck

taggggsss:

@downbad4reid

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[w2sology]

Would you do something about the first time Harry had the reader meet the boys or something? I loved "of all the ways, harry lewis." 🩵

ahhhhh i'm glad you loved it! i was so nervous about posting it 😭😭😭

boyfriend material, harry lewis.

summary: you meet harry's best friends for the first time.

warnings: language

harry rolled over in bed as he gradually woke himself up, trying to actually get out of bed. but he couldn't, it was too warm and welcoming. and on the other side of the bed lay you, deep in your slumber, your chest heaving up and down slowly.

harry found himself staring at you for a little while, just admiring the beautiful woman that he had in front of him. he didn't know how he got so lucky, his sister always told him he was punching and he believed it. but you felt the same way ─── the truth was that you were both lucky to have each other.

suddenly, you began to stir from your slumber, stretching as you slowly blinked your eyes opened. the first thing you saw when they fully opened was harry, and that quite literally made your morning. his eyes were already on yours, a smile gracing his face as you mirrored it.

"morning, sleepyhead," harry rasped, scooting even closer to you and embracing your in his arms.

"hi, harry."

"i was thinking..." he began to say.

"well, that's never good, is it?" you playfully rolled your eyes.

harry pinched the side of your hip that his hand was closest to in response, earning a squeal from you. "ha ha ha, you're so fucking funny."

"honestly, it's so hard being this funny."

after deadpanning you for a few seconds, the two of you burst out in a fit of laughter before harry continued.

"i was thinking that you could come to the video shoot today? maybe, you know... meettheboys?"

the last part came out so rushed that if it wasn't for how long you'd known harry, you probably wouldn't have heard what he said.

turning to face him and lifting your head from his chest so you could see him properly, you smiled at his proposition.

"you serious?"

"well, i'm asking, aren't i?"

"i know, but... you don't think it'll go tits up or anything, do you?"

harry laughed at the nerves that rolled off of your tongue at that question, knowing that if anything, his friends would adore you; they all wanted to know who he was so whipped for.

cradling your face with his hands, harry spoke to you. "i promise it won't go tits up. if it does, i'll do whatever you want me to do for a whole week."

"even my skincare routine?"

harry hesitated at that. "i’m gonna say yes because i know i'll end up being right anyways."

shoving him away from you with a scoff, you began to get out of bed to make a head start on the day ahead of you. "cocky much?"

"always."

instead of actually taking you to the video shoot and shoving you head first into the spotlight, harry suggested that the group meet for lunch somewhere before they start filming.

luckily, they all agreed with the plan and ethan suggested a nearby restaurant for the day. walking hand in hand to the venue from where your car was parked, harry winced a little as you tightly squeezed his hand.

"you alright there?" he chuckled.

you loosened your grip, feeling a little flustered after realising how nervous you appeared. "sorry."

"don't be," your boyfriend assured you. "i mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"they could hate me."

"if they hate you, that means they hate me. and they don't hate me."

"thanks, babe, that makes everything all better again," you rolled your eyes as he stopped to open the door to the makeshift diner for you.

"of course, sweetheart," he smiled annoyingly at you, kissing your forehead.

walking inside, you were greeted by the sound of soft r&b playing accompanied by loud laughs coming from a corner in the diner. and as harry began to guide you towards the noise, a small out grew in your stomach.

harry could feel you trying to resist, a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the boys. they saw harry first, his tall build unable to be missed.

"finally, what took you so long?" vik clapped, grabbing the attention of the rest of the males on the table, who all turned to stare at you and harry.

"sorry boys, we were actually planning to be on time but someone," he gestured to you, "wanted to practice being a make-up artist last minute."

a few chuckles were heard as simon moved over in the booth to make more space on his side for both you and harry, with vik and toby on one ledge, ethan and jj on the other, and josh sat in the corner between simon and ethan.

"anyways, this is y/n," harry smiled looking at you adoringly as you glanced around at the faces around you with a shy smile.

"hi," you managed to say as you had practiced, small yet still confident.

you knew their names and who was who, harry had quizzed you on all of them prior to this day just so you wouldn't feel as though you knew nothing about the main part of your boyfriend's life.

"hi, y/n," they all said back. toby squinted at you for a moment before choosing to speak up.

"well, there's no resemblance between you so she can't be a relative. is she a friend we haven't yet met, harry?" he genuinely asked.

simon slapped his hand over his mouth to stop the laugh from pooling out as you sort of did the same, knowing toby was winding harry up.

"you're full of shit," harry pointed the menu at toby as he browsed through it.

"no but, let's discuss. how did you," josh pointed at harry. "bag her?"

"why is that even a question?" harry huffed, knowing all along that this was coming.

"y/n, don't lie to us," simon whispered to you. "how much is he paying you─── ow! that fucking hurt," he interrupted himself upon harry digging his elbow into his side.

"shut up," harry groaned. "she is my girlfriend, and she can confirm that she isn't being coerced, now can we order?"

harry's flustered state had you laughing to yourself a little, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked at your boyfriend, feeling much less tense than you were before meeting his friends.

and as the brunch went on and they cracked a few jokes with you here and there, you cane to realise why harry enjoyed being in their presence so much, they welcomed you with open arms and you were just glad to get the first meeting out of the way.

[mosoderbergh]

Chapter 3 of NSFW Emmrook, this time with an extra dose of hurt/comfort

So yeah, this one is set just after the fade prison. I had to (literally) interrupt the mindless smut for a healthy dose of tragedy.

Read the full fic here

Or Chapter 3 down below...

All that happens after they escape the fade prison, Rook could not have endured without Emmrich by their side. He makes sure they are unhurt. Makes sure they eat. He is calm in the face of the general panic. He is tethered to Rook - a hand on their shoulder to steady them where they stand, a knee resting against theirs when they sit next to each other, fingers intertwined under the table. And though Rook has no time to rest, no time to properly grieve, they draw strength from him. They catch him blinking away tears once, after they give a brief recount of their time away to the group. And they certainly notice the way the others treat Emmrich, all soft voices and encouraging smiles. At some point not quite a day after their return, they walk into the kitchen together and Taash casually greets Rook, then asks *Emmrich* if he’s doing ok.

“I’m fine, Taash, thank you”, he says, sounding ever so slightly indignant. Or embarrassed, maybe. Rook wishes they had the time to sit him down and talk things through.

Their moment comes not by a wave of fortune, but through Emmrich himself. No one protests when he takes them away to spend the night at the Necropolis. Least of all Rook. Even so, Rook can’t really bring themselves to have a hard conversation right then and there. They still feel raw, emotionally spent, and they have a suspicion Emmrich feels the same way. So they walk through the Memorial Gardens. Bask in the sweetness of the moment, the relief of their reunion.

“I am sorry, dearest”, Emmrich whispers in between two kisses. “I don’t remember if I said. I meant to.”

“I’m sorry too”, they say.

And it’s enough. Enough for the worry to fade from Emmrichs face, leaving only adoration and desire. All else can wait.

The sarcophagus is, perhaps, a touch morbid. But Rook isn’t easily shocked, and if Emmrich chose this place, it must be for a reason. In a strange way, Rook finds it romantic.

Emmrich kisses them deeply, reverently. Today, Rook doesn’t mind that he takes his time. They help each other out of layers of clothing, and for once, Emmrich lets his actions speak for him. Tracing each line of Rook’s body like he’s committing them to memory. Placing kisses on their hair, their forehead, their cheek, down their chest.

Rook clings to him in turn, drawing him in close, skin to skin. They stroke his back, whispering “I love you” into his ear over and over, as if they could wipe away all sorrow with their reassurances. They aren’t sure if they are trying to comfort him or themselves. They don’t even realise it’s the first time they ever say these words to him.

Emmrich’s lips return to theirs with fresh heat. They are both stark naked at this point, entangled with each other in the narrow confines of the coffin. Rook hooks a leg around his waist, so that his hardening cock is pressed against their clit. They moan into his mouth, running their fingers through his already messy hair-

Suddenly Emmrich breaks the kiss, his body curling in around them like something punched him in the groin. Rook is about to ask if they hurt him somehow when the sound from deep within his chest freezes their blood. Emmrich is crying.

“Oh.” They fumble for words. But once the dam is broken, they doubt Emmrich would even hear them. His entire body shakes with the force of his sobs. It seems he can barely draw breath. Rook can do nothing but wrap their arms around his shoulders for a proper hug. “Oh Maker, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. It’s ok. I’m here. I’m here.”

It takes a minute for Emmrich to be able to produce words.

“Forgive me”, he croaks then, his face buried in Rook’s hair, still weeping.

“Don’t apologise”, Rook says helplessly.

“I wanted… Tonight was supposed to be for you.”

“Emmrich, it’s ok.”

“I love you”, he says then, pulling back far enough so they can look into his reddened eyes. “Rook… You don’t know how I’ve suffered for the cowardice of not telling you sooner.”

“You didn’t have to”, Rook says. With all the things he did say, all the ways he treated them, they earnestly thought it was so heavily implied as to be already established. If they are honest, if somebody had asked them “Has Emmrich ever told you he loves you?”, they would probably have answered yes and meant it.

“I should have said it”, Emmrich says, insistent even though his voice is still shaky from crying. “I let my fears get the better of me. Fear and blasted pride. I wished for certainty. I thought it would be foolish to bare my heart only to end up alone once more.”

Rook would move mountains to comfort him. If only they knew the right words.

“I… honestly, if I told someone half the things you’ve whispered to me in the night, I’d easily consider that ‘baring my heart’”, they say, feeling very unhelpful indeed.

“Oh, don’t… don’t remind me of my failings there”, he says, suddenly heated.

“I… what?” Rook is so dumbfounded they forget to be gentle.

“I couldn’t bring myself to be honest with you about how I felt, and yet I allowed myself to push these things on you. To bring up the idea of having you carry my child, when I hadn’t even…”

“But you didn’t bring it up”, Rook points out. “I did. Twice.”

“You mentioned it, Rook. And I did nothing to stop myself. With no regard for your feelings.”

“My feelings are fine. We talked about this.”

“And I didn’t say nearly enough.” He cups Rook’s face with a long-fingered hand, his voice gentle. “Would you allow me to explain now?”

“If you want. Just… out of everything, I wouldn’t have thought *this* was something that bothered you so much.”

“Oh, but it is. There was much more to it than just a fantasy of... With you, at least. I’d been wondering, Rook, for quite some time, if… if I could allow myself to be hopeful. To believe that you would stay with me. Even after our adventure would be over. But then you were lost, and…”

“Emmrich…”

“Please. Let me… I thought you too young to trouble you with my need for... It had less to to with children, you must know that, and more with… Oh, my dearest heart. To make *you* my family. Tied together. Belonging together. Staying.”

His words fill Rook with a longing so deep it takes their breath away. It hits them just how close they came to losing an entire future. A life. It feels crushing all of a sudden. But they still have a weepy, beautiful man to deal with, and he still looks very nearly inconsolable. So they place a hand over his heart and take a deep breath, looking for the right words.

“You are safe with me”, they say, trying hard to put their entire heart into the words. “You are. Emmrich, if we survive this, as long as you’ll have me, I’m never…”

They can’t get the words out before they are crying themselves. They see Emmrich wiping away fresh tears before he pulls them into an embrace.

“I feel quite the same way, my love”, he says. His voice is steadier now, and they hear the beginnings of a smile. “I truly intended to be the one to care care of you tonight, you know.”

“Emmrich, love of my life, I think you’ll have to get used to the idea that this goes both ways”, Rook says, sniveling.

They both laugh. Or cry. Or a little bit of both.

There is more crying as the night goes on, and more than one grand declaration of love. There is even, at some point, sex, when simply being in each other’s arms doesn’t feel like enough anymore. Rook rides Emmrich as best they can while he holds them so close they can barely move.

They don’t say it that night, but as they drift to sleep on top of him, Rook can’t help but think that for the first time in their life, starting a family sounds pretty damn appealing.

It’s something to think about.

There’s just one more god to kill first.

[basketballanonsblog]

Synopsis: One way or another, the truth will get discovered.

TW: mentions of blood and a bit of violence.

Flashbacks are in italics

Revelations

"Jihyo! I'm guessing from the flowers that your girlfriend isn't coming to the fan event?" She rolled her eyes at the second eldest member.

"She's not my girlfriend. And no, she got called to the hospital."

"Could've fooled me, y/n looks at you like you're her entire universe."

"Really?"

"Yes. And do you know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because you look at her the exact same way. It's just something to think about." Jeongyeon shrugged, walking away, leaving the leader by herself.

Jihyo finished her night routine, but her phone rang before she laid down.

"Hi y/n."

"Hey, are you busy?"

"Getting ready for bed, why?"

"Look outside." She peeked through the window to see you holding a basket. "Have a picnic with me?"

It didn't take much to persuade her into saying yes, and a year later, it's one of her fondest memories with you. The both of you talked under the stars until Jihyo fell asleep, and she could still feel your warmth as you carried her home.

Was it romantically cliché? Most likely. Does she get butterflies when she thinks of it? Yes. She shook her head, blushing.

She didn't have time to dwell on it.

~x~

You were drenched in sweat, knuckles burning as you circled the punching bag. Hit after hit, for hours; trying to rid your guilt for not being able to make it to the group's event.

"Wow. Never thought I'd see the day you go into boxing, especially since-"

"That night. Yeah, I know, just trying something new."

"More like slipping back to old habits."

"Lucifer." You warned.

"Right, right. I'm sorry, but maybe you should call it quits for today. Give your literally bloody hands a break."

Huh. You hadn't noticed blood seeping through the wraps.

Checking your phone, a message had you unconsciously smiling. Lucifer peered over your shoulder to read along.

'Movie night at the dorm, wanna join?'

'I'll be there in half an hour.'

"Have fun on your date!"

You ignored him.

~×~

"Y/n! You're finally here, help us choose what to watch." Nayeon dragged you into the front space. Your eyes locked with Jihyo's, whose smile was replaced swiftly with a frown.

"What happened?"

"Huh?" She took your bruised hands in hers.

"Oh, this? I got carried away with the punching bag."

"You box?" Chaeyoung chimed in.

"Nothing serious. Boxing isn't something I do, especially since -" Your mouth quickly shut.

You've said too much.

"Since?"

"Never mind, that's a story for another day."

She kept looking at you, concerned. And you were starting to crumble under her gaze.

A blow to your ear made you yelp and scramble away.

"Sorry, I was getting impatient, watching you two stare at each other." You were so flustered that you were actually grateful that Nayeon burst the moment.

In the end, everyone was huddled together as the horror movie played. Jihyo hid in the crook of your neck, making you stiffen.

"Why so tense, is it the film?" She whispered.

"I don't get scared easily." Jihyo smoothed her thumb over your hands.

"Then is it because it hurts?" She never gave you a chance to answer. You got lightheaded at the feeling of her lips brushing over your knuckles. Thank goodness it was dark, you didn't want to share this moment with anyone else.

~x~

One movie turned into three, and it was after midnight. Jihyo had found solace, leaning into you and fell asleep. You gently carried her to her room, and you almost walked away when she tugged you by the wrist.

"Where are you going? Stay here."

"I should go." She pulled further, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Please stay, it's late." You settled beside her, making sure to give her enough room.

"Do you have enough space, Jihyo?" Her eyes darted to the gap between you and raised her eyebrow.

"Come closer, y/n. You're practically hanging off the bed." She laid her head on your chest, and oh how it felt so familiar.

"You're tensing up again. Relax, it's just me." It didn't take long for Jihyo to fall back asleep. But all you could do was stare and softly run your fingers through her hair.

"Just you?" You murmured. "Like you aren't the reason my heart beats every day. As if I wouldn't move the heavens and earth for you."

You fought the urge to pick at the broken skin by your fingers, lest you bleed again. It made you reminisce the last time they were in such a condition.

"You killed her."

Your hits were unrelenting, his blood coating your knuckles. He lost consciousness long ago, but that didn't deter you. A hand clasped your wrist before you could deliver another blow.

"Unhand me, Lucifer." You growled.

"That's enough y/n."

"No. It will never be enough. He deserves to suffer the way I'm suffering now."

"Jihyo wouldn't want to see you like this-"

"Well, Jihyo is gone!" Your voice cracked as you tried to force your arm out of his grip.

"I said. Let. Go."

"He's dead, y/n."

She shifted, bringing you back to the present. "Would you run away if I confessed what I had done all those years ago?" You held her ever closer.

With an unshakeable sinking feeling in your stomach, sleep did not come easy to you that night.

~x~

It was 6am when you made it back to the not so empty apartment.

"You know Lucifer, you own an entire club building and penthouse in Los Angeles. So why the hell do you keep coming over to this side of the world?"

"To be a nuisance. Plus, I want to be nosey and ask about your date."

"Wasn't a date. It was just a movie marathon with the group."

"And a sleepover. Which brings me to the next topic, when are you going to tell Jihyo the truth?"

"I don't know."

"Sister, it's been a year. She should know. Otherwise, I have no problem telling her. I'll even show her my other face."

He switched to his devil form, making your wings appear and blood boil. You sneered and grabbed his collar.

"Do not push me Lucifer, you will do no such thing."

A thump broke the tension, Lucifer quickly changed back to normal but it was too late. Jihyo stood wide eyed with fear in front of the door you had apparently forgotten to lock; Your phone on the floor. You knew you forgot something when you left.

"Jihyo... we can explain." But every step you took forward, she would take one back. She pulled away so abruptly when you tried to reach out.

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

You didn't make another attempt to stop her.

But why did it feel that you lost her for the second time?

[ticklishraspberries]

Assessment (Cristina, George)

Summary: Cristina asks George to help her practice a simple abdominal examn, and it goes differently than expected. (Based on this prompt by @allytheally. Hope you enjoy!!)

“Just let me practice on you, Bambi!” Cristina said, her tone uncharacteristically close to begging. It still wasn’t quite begging, which George would have taken great joy in, but it was close enough to give him a little bit of satisfaction.

“Fine,” he said. “But you’re buying my lunch today.”

“Deal, lay down.”

Feeling ridiculous, George laid down on one of the extra beds in the hallway, elbows at his sides and hands resting on his chest.

“Bailey claims I’m too rough when I give secondary assessments,” Cristina said. “You’re wimpy, you’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?”

“Hey, I am not wimpy! I grew up with two older brothers, I can take a punch,” he replied.

Cristina rolled her eyes. “Whatever, just…Tell me if I hurt you.”

George nodded, looking up at the ceiling. He could have been scrubbing in on a surgery, but instead, he was helping Cristina practice her patient etiquette.

Without warning, Cristina brought her hands to his abdomen and pressed, and he twitched under her sudden touch, but it wasn’t as painful as she’d made it sound.

“See, you’re already squirming! I’m not that heavy-handed, you’re just being a baby!”

“People’s bodies react to stimuli,” he replied. “I’m not being a baby, I’m literally just reacting! It doesn’t hurt, just hurry up.”

“Fine, bossy,” she replied, and did as instructed, but George noticed that she did lighten her touch ever-so-slightly. But that just made it worse, because it hadn’t hurt in the first place, and now it…Well, it tickled, and George would rather be in pain than have Cristina Yang find a new thing to tease him about.

He tensed despite his best efforts, but he assumed the average patient would do the same. It was awkward, uncomfortable, sometimes painful and sometimes ticklish to get felt up by doctors. He would have to keep that in mind in the future, try and make the experience less uncomfortable.

“Why are you so tense?” she asked, annoyance clear in her tone.

“I’m not,” George replied, defensive.

“You are, you’re being all weird. There’s no way I’m hurting you, this is the pressure I’d use in pediatrics.”

To prove her point, she lightened her touch again, barely pressing down, brushing fingers over his belly through his scrubs and he couldn’t help but let out a little squeak.

Time seemed to freeze in the hall, and George looked up at Cristina, feeling as vulnerable as a patient with their chest cavity open on the table beneath her curious gaze.

“No way,” she said. “Are you…Are you ticklish?”

“No, I’m not, and I think I just heard my pager, actually, so—”

“Oh, no, O’Malley, you are not getting out of this one,” she said, grinning. “Lay down, I’m finishing my assessment. Have you been having any abdominal pain lately?”

“Cristina, seriously, don’t you dare!” George cried, but was quickly cut off by his own giggling.

“I am never letting you live this down. I’m telling Meredith, and Izzie. I’ll even tell Karev, he’ll have a field day with—”

“No, Cristina, please!” he said, batting uselessly at her hands. “I’ll murder you, I’m serious.”

He had always hated being tickled, his brothers always taking it way too far. If the others all found out, he would be tormented every day, just like when he was a child.

“You don’t sound so serious when you’re giggling,” Cristina said.

She used both hands to scribble fingers over his belly and sides, and George squirmed like mad on the gurney, whining. He felt ridiculous, blushing and giggling like a child while on call as a surgical intern.

She focused on the sides of his stomach, one of his worst spots, and he squealed in the most embarrassing way. God, he was never going to hear the end of this, he knew it.

“Oh my god, this is priceless,” Cristina said. She was laughing, too, but it didn’t feel malicious. George wasn’t as close to her as he was to Izzie or Meredith, but he still considered her a friend. She’s grown on him, despite her know-it-all attitude, her relentless teasing, and apparently, now, he would have to put up with her tickling him.

Life as an intern could get weird.

“What is going on here?”

George groaned when he recognized the voice as Izzie’s, and if Izzie was here, it meant that Meredith wasn’t far behind.

“O’Malley’s ticklish,” Cristina said. “I was practicing an abdominal exam on him, and he started giggling!”

Izzie giggled. “Oh my god, no way! George, how am I your best friend and I didn’t know this?” she asked.

George forced himself to sit up, squirming wildly away from Cristina. “No, no, we are never speaking of this again. I’m serious, both of you!”

“What’s George serious about?” Meredith asked, coming around the corner, just as he’d predicted.

“That we aren’t allowed to tickle him,” Izzie replied.

“I hate you all,” George said, arms crossed protectively around his middle. “And I’m leaving now, I’m gonna go do my job instead of messing around.”

He stormed down the hallway with the sound of his friends laughing, his cheeks still flushed, still slightly short of breath, but also feeling oddly lighter than he had when he entered the hospital that morning.

[khaoala]

Someone in the tags mentioned that maybe Nene is the father's love child, and personally, I think that’s a possibility, especially with the “do I look familiar?” and her asking if Rak has a sister. Perhaps her mom got sick and in desperation she went to the dad for help and he was like “and you are??”. We also now know that Pam’s in it for a little bit of revenge but mostly because she’s got bills to pay. Getting a part-time job seems like the logical thing to do, but perhaps that’s just me. I said it before for Oom, so I’ll say it again: i support women’s rights, and I support Pam’s wrongs.

On the topic of jobs, i dont know how aek hasn’t gone bankrupt from having three employees on the payroll and like 3 customers plus Pam a day (Pam should get like a loyalty card or a punch card at this point). 

Pam may scold Rak as if she's a kid, but that girl was dropping some wise words today. Found myself nodding along, saying, “you are so right, Rak". THEN HER BASICALLY PROFESSING HER LOVE FOR PAM THROUGH SONG AND PAM QUITE LITERALLY GETTING HIT WITH THAT OH MOMENT AND CLUTCHING HER CHEST 🫠🫠🫠. Was so upset that we moved straight back to Nene and the revenge plot. 

Casting View as the bar owner and having her in THAT outfit when her character got introduced was one of the best decisions the show made (aside from casting emibonnie of course).

Then at the end, the HEARTBREAKING news that Pam and Kawi are now together. We know they don't last, but it still hurts. 

Ok, I think that's everything. Another great episode!

-🤫

that's a very interesting theory, and it would make more sense too, because when nene asked her that, i went 'if you want intel on kawi, you should have asked about siblings or brothers, but you know she doesn't have a sister', so nene being their half-sister would be absolutely delicious if it turns out to be the case. would also explain why she's so resentful towards kawi and rak, even though they have nothing to do with the shit their parents do. to be fair with pam, though, it looked like she had way too many bills to pay (and there's also school fees i assume she has to pay), and with internship and classes, i don't think getting a part time job would be sufficient to pay up all she owes (though getting money from loan-sharks is not ideal either, so you know, i feel for her).

this aek comment made me laugh. i will try to believe that they just show them when the business is slower because i need this group to stick together and not to have them all out of jobs. aek also has a lot of artist from a rich family vibes, and though the reason is tragic, at least he doesn't have to worry about gas.

to be really honest anon, i'm so hopeful that we'll get so many sweet moments between our pamrak that when pam clutched her chest while hearing rak sing to her, all i was thinking was "YES! bring me that longing, bring me that yearning, bring me those long stares, it's what we deserve!!" tbh, my favorite part in any couple dynamics is when they are dancing around each other like this, it make my heart sing and my brain is happy.

WHEN I TELL YOU MY JAW DROPPED WHEN WE GOT OAT! MY GOD THAT WOMAN IS HOT AND SHE KNOWS THAT! the way she drank that bear while looking at that woman? and the way she looked at rak when she entered the room? and the way she was flirting with pam and making rak jealous in the preview? all i ever needed was view portraying a flirty wlw character. i'm on my knees for her. i don't care we don't know much about her, she's my wife.

after kawi's interaction with his father and his excitement when he told rak that pam asked him to be his boyfriend, i must admit that my heart broke for him a little, and i could also feel rak's break which made me sad as well. it's all part of the plot and i know that, but i wish they could be happy because life in this family clearly isn't that great.

[ohwhataniight]

i'm stuck on your heart - chapter 9

Chapter 8

We'll take a cup of kindness

On Boxing Day, John wakes up with Rosie bouncing on his abdomen. He quickly realizes he didn't spend the night alone. Sherlock's long limbs are tangled between his own, the heat from his body making John feel like a furnace. They just slept - didn't do anything unholy, actually, the two of them returning home exhausted (Rosie feeling quite rejuvenated by her nap and completely unwilling to stop singing) and all three of them falling asleep in Sherlock's bed.

"Come here, pumpkin," John murmurs, pulling his child to his chest and planting a kiss on the top of her head. He feels Sherlock stir next to him.

"Jooohn," he croaks nasally.

"Nice voice," John chuckles, cuddling up closer to Sherlock, and only then registering how incredibly hot he is, in the most literal sense of the word. "Are you sick?"

A hand on Sherlock's cheek confirms his suspicion. He lets a small whistle. "Blimey. You're burning up. Rosie, up. Sherlock's sick. Let's try not to catch it if you haven't already."

Sherlock groans. "But Joooohn! I can't afford to be sick. Humanity needs me!"

"Humanity has survived much worse than you having a cold." He sits up, manhandling Rosie out of bed and getting ready to start his day of babysitting two toddlers instead of one. Sherlock attempts to sit up too, all sniffly and flushed, but John instantly pushes him back down with a firm hand on his chest.

"Oh, plea-" Sherlock tries to complain, but is prevented by a coughing fit that shakes his body.

"You, Sir, will stay here," John walks around the bed and leans to kiss Sherock's forehead, running his fingers through the tousled curls. "You behaved impressively throughout Christmas, socialized impeccably, ran after Rosie, tolerated Mycroft. You're ill. Let me take care of everything today, okay? You just rest."

Sherlock grunts but resigns. "Only a fool argues with his doctor."

John pads down to the kitchen with a smile on his face, serves Rosie her cereal and watches her eat and make an absolute mess of everything, and finds the thermometer and some ipubrofen in a cupboard. He grabs a glass of water and returns to Sherlock's room, Rosie bouncing up and down next to him. Sherlock is bundled up, the duvet pulled over his head, only his mop of dark hair peaking out. "Come out, Sherlock, Doctor Rosie is here to see you," John pats the bump that is Sherlock and sits on the edge of the bed.

Sherlock peers under the blanket, eyes glassy but mischievous. John has come to find that Sherlock won't easily say no to Doctor Rosie, and he uses that as an excuse to look him over whenever he deems necessary. He gives Rosie the thermometer and Sherlock lets her slip it between his lips. She mimicks what she's seen her father doing countless times and places her small palm on Sherlock's forehead. "He's hot, Daddy!" He exclaims.

John smirks. "I know, sweetheart." Sherlock grimaces.

The thermometer beeps and Rosie takes it in her chubby hand and gives it John so that he can read it. "Excellent work, Doctor Watson," he ruffles her hair, tutting at the number that appears on the instrument. "Okay, sit up for us, Sherlock. What next, Rosie?"

"Say 'aaah'!"

"You heard her," John smirks. Sherlock opens his mouth and complies, letting John peer into his throat with the penlight. "Inflamed," John tells Rosie who nods, and presses his fingers on Sherlock's neck, checking for swollen glands.

"If the punch made me slip up and tell you I wanted you to explore my body yesterday, John, rest assured I didn't mean it that way," Sherlock murmurs and John chuckles.

"Okay, take this for the fever," he hands him the pill and the glass of water. "I'm going to make you some toast, and you're going to eat it. I will ask Mrs. Hudson for some soup. You rest."

"Thank you, Doctor Watson," Sherlock says to Rosie, who curtsies. "Doctor Watson," he nods to John, who pats his cheek and gets up. "Can I have my laptop?"

"I want your fever to drop at least a degree before I give it to you," John answers, picking up Rosie and heading to the kitchen. Sherlock groans but complies

It's been raining constantly since last night. The sky is dark and they turn on the lights inside. John makes some toast, humming and picking up after Rosie who's throwing crumbs all over her high chair and the floor.

He still hasn't found the time to properly take in everything that's been happening, how his life is changing moment by moment. Yet now, after all the running around and the stolen moments, he finds himself calm, having woken up into this strange kind of domesticity, one that makes sense, one that makes his heart flutter and his stomach fill with warmth.

They had all this before, the care, the routines, the family, but now they also have what John hasn't stopped unconsciously dreaming about ever since he met Sherlock: tangled limbs and morning breath, permission and excuses to kiss him every time he gets the chance, and the teenage-like anticipation for an alone moment, where they'll get to love each other the way they've always been meant to. He feels giddy, and yet he also feels serene, ready, open.

Their friends don't know yet that they've gotten together. John wonders how he will feel when the time comes to publicly be with Sherlock, how people will react. He suddenly finds he doesn't care.

Walking out of the kitchen, he finds that Sherlock has stumbled out of bed and moved to the living room, where he's bundled up on the couch.

"Did I say you were fit to get out of bed?" John raises an eyebrow, handing him a plate with the toast and placing a cup of hot tea on the coffee table in front of the detective.

"I was bored," Sherlock sneezes, grabbing a tissue from the pile that's already forming next to him, then makes puppy eyes to John, who thinks this is adorably ridiculous. "Can we make a fort?"

"Yay, a fawt!" Cries Rosie, who's sitting on the floor with toys scattered around her.

"Eat first," John instructs him, sitting down next to him and turning the TV on. Children's toons come on and Rosie stands up and starts dancing clumsily to some annoying song about bears.

Sherlock nips at his toast, a toddler with impossibly long legs. "I was thinking," he rests his head on John's shoulder, cuddling up closer to him. "Maybe today you could introduce me to loving you... in the biblical sense?"

John pokes him on the rib and motions to Rosie, who's gotten dizzy from turning around herself and sat on the carpet again. "Later, you dork," he murmurs. "Feel better first. Because when your body can handle it, I certainly plan to over-extert it."

Sherlock smirks, satisfied.

Chapter 10

[metallicaislife]

Introverted

Requested by: @dallysnecklace

Genre: Angstish Fluff

Word Count: 1,223

Warnings: Rude Lars(I swear I don't hate him, he just makes a compelling villain lmao), feelings of self doubt.

Solitude is what brings me peace. I can read, listen to music. Do whatever I want, whenever I want. 

Then Kirk came stumbling into my life, quite literally. 

Back when we were in high school he ran into me in the library. The books I held on to went flying. He saw the Stephen King book I had in the stack. After that incident in some way or another he was always by my side. I was annoyed at first, but the dork wormed his way into my life. Now, years later, not only is he my best friend, I’m totally in love with him. Am I still about as awkward as the first day we met? Absolutely. But for some reason he still sticks by me, even now as he’s living out his dreams of being a rockstar. 

Kirk and I were walking to a bookstore, we were in a comfortable silence. 

“I like you,” he started, “like a lot. I want to be more than friends.” He continued. My heart was hammering in my chest. I couldn’t think straight. I immediately stopped and turned around. 

“Hey, wait! Where are you going?” I could faintly hear him ask as the blood pulsated in my veins. I didn’t stop. Not until I found myself in my apartment. I leaned against the door. I finally let myself catch my breath and process what he said. I’ve liked Kirk forever. And I probably just ruined that opportunity simply by malfunctioning when he told me he likes me. 

I jumped letting out a small scream when there was a knock on my door. I held my hand over my heart and opened the door. 

“Can we please talk about what just happened.” Kirk asked out of breath. His eyes were wide with worry, scared he’d said or done the wrong thing. 

“I’m sorry I speed walked away.” I whispered. He laughed breathlessly. 

“I like you too.” I whispered. His eyebrows perked up. 

“What was that?” He asked, “I couldn’t hear you.” 

“I like you too.” I said again, this time a little louder. A goofy grin spread across his lips. 

“Not gonna run away again?” He asked. I shook my head. 

Kirk, I came to find out was the best person I could possibly date. He was patient and kind, but he helped me push my boundaries. I became more confident in myself. I mean, at the core I was still me, just with some more pep in my step. I knew I had Kirk to rely on, and he could always rely on me. 

I went to the Metallimansion to hang out with Kirk. I quietly entered the house. I went to take off my shoes when I heard Lars talking. 

“I just don’t get what he sees in her.” 

“It’s not up to you to decide what he does or doesn’t see in her.” I heard Cliff respond. This could be about anybody. 

“She’s just so mousy and can hardly maintain eye contact. She gets flustered so easily it’s like walking on eggshells, Y/N is just so annoying.” Lars complained. Okay not about just anybody, this was definitely about me. 

“Dude shut the hell up before I punch you. She’s nice, she has quirks just like the rest of us do. Stop being a dick.” Cliff defended. 

Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I silently backed out and went home as fast as I could. 

I knew it, it doesn’t matter how much I think I’ve changed, it's still the same. I curled up in my bed and just cried. 

A while later my phone rang. I sluggishly got up and answered it before it went to voicemail. 

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Hey, babe. Where were you today? You were supposed to come over, I’m worried.” Kirk’s voice came over the line. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Something came up.” I lied. 

“Oh. Okay, that’s fine. Could you let me know next time? I really thought something bad happened.” Kirk said. 

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.” I said in an even tone. 

“Are you okay?” Kirk asked.

“Yup.” I answered. Kirk was silent for a few minutes. 

“If you say so.” He sounded a little dejected. 

“Well I gotta go, bye.” 

“Wait, I love-“ he started but I hung up as a fresh wave of tears made their way down my face. 

I curled back up in my bed going to sleep trying to forget it all. 

My head was pounding, as was my front door. I groaned, getting up and answering the door. Kirk stood outside with a frustrated look on his face. 

“Can I come in?” He asked. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I simply nodded and opened the door letting him in. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked. I turned to face him, my eyes still focused on the floor. “Please look at me.” He practically begged. I took a deep breath finally looking up. Kirk looked really upset. It’s all my fault. It would be easier if I wasn’t a burden to him. 

“What’s going on? Why are you pulling away? Please don’t lie to me and say everything is okay.” He said to me, my bottom lip wobbled. 

“I heard Lars talking about me to Cliff. It just reminded me you’re way out of my league and it’s best I just hang out by myself.” I said, wringing my hands together. Kirk reached out to still my hands. 

“That’s not true.” Kirk said sternly, “you’re so amazing, funny, and kind. I love you just the way you are. Have I enjoyed seeing you more confident in yourself? Absolutely, it means you’re starting to see yourself the way I see you.” He said, fresh tears filled my eyes. Kirk brought his fingers up and started wiping away my tears. 

“I’m sorry.” I said. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Lars was being a dick with whatever he said. Cliff too.” Kirk replied. 

“No, not Cliff. He defended me.” I said. Kirk smiled. 

“I’m glad. Wanna go cuddle while I tell you all the things I love about you?” Kirk asked softly. 

“Cuddle yes, but if you start complimenting me I might combust.” I said, Kirk laughed as he interlocked our fingers dragging me to the couch. He laid down and pulled me on top of him holding me close. 

“Any time you start to feel that way, please don’t pull away. Come to me and I’ll give you so many reasons why I love you and think you’re absolutely incredible.” He said, rubbing my back softly. “Oh and I’m kicking Lars ass, no ifs ands or buts.” Kirk said. 

“Cliff may have beat you to it, I didn’t stay long enough to hear fists fly.” I said softly. Kirk chuckled. 

“Glad I can rely on Cliff to have your back.” Kirk said. 

“Me too. He’s a good friend.” I said. 

“You consider him a friend?” Kirk asked, he sounded excited. I nodded. “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Thank you for weaseling your way into my life. I love you.” I said. 

“I love you.” He said, kissing my forehead. 

I smiled nuzzling into his warmth. I would be forever grateful for Kirk who came stumbling into my life and stayed, showing me there was more than just books and solitude.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[astridthevalkyrie]

chand ko chakor dekhe, tujkho naseebo wala (the bird looks at the moon, a lucky one looks at you) | hawks x reader | chapter 6

“You’ve died twice? From clocks? “I know you’re not blind to the rocks and debris flying literally everywhere! The world would be better off without you in it!” you scream at the villain. The machine is even louder as it breaks and jams into the ground. “Flying building pieces or something, I don’t know—one hit me yesterday. The first day I got knocked into a wall, and then I woke up hugging my body pillow. Same thing the next day. And the next, and the next. Did my number three pro hero partner save me? No, he let me get stuck in a fucking time loop!” Or, you’ll do a lot of things with infinite time on your hands, but falling in love with Keigo Takami isn’t one of them.

a/n: yesssss update's out have a fun time reading!

warnings: suicide attempts (with the understanding that she will reset), hawks pins reader to a building, rudeness, icky romantic stuff 🤮

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“Whoa.” Your hands come up in front of your chest as the kid’s arm crackles—crackles?—with lightning. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa hang on, I don’t fight children!”

You don’t think the nerd hears you, because he’s jumping forward with wide, fearful, despaired eyes. “Detroit”—of course he’s an All Might copycat, USA lover, star spangled stripes, would still smash their number one hero, though more like she’d smash you because she’s super strong—”SMAAASH!”

Fuck your life. Truly.

—————————————————

You go back to the beach the next today. Not to kill All Might again, even if you did cheat and break the vow you’d made to yourself the first day you officially started training to be a hero (haha your soul is broken you’re going to hell except you’re not because you’re stuck in a time loop and ohmygosh maybe this is hell maybe when you got hit by the rock that first day you died what the shiiiiit). No no, you won’t kill him again, because you’re just far more interested in who this tiny little green loser is and just how he KOed you with one punch.

That’s not, like, easy. You killed the top ten heroes minus the dumb bird! By right of passage, that makes you the number one! Or at least the number two if Hawks is de facto one even though he totally isn’t. He admitted MULTIPLE times that he would have just let you kill him. Who needs a flimsy number one hero like that?

Speaking of flimsy number one heroes.

You’re probably losing your mind more than you thought. Why are you looking at a chibi version of All Might?

Goddamn are heroes stupid! You’re perched up just barely out of view and neither the LITERAL NUMBER ONE or his protege have noticed you as they eat and yap about CLASSES of all things!

Okay, so when you killed All Might, he wasn’t exactly himself because he hasn’t had his Snickers bar yet or whatever. Which means you didn’t really kill the number one, and so the right of passage still leaves you at number two (yeah yeah, de facto Hawks number two, then you). 

So if Small Might (good one! that’s original!) can’t fight you, that would mean the real foe you’d need to defeat is YOUNG MIDRORIYA! Only problem is that YOUNG MIDORIYA! is a child and y’know, you’re not quite that comfortable in your amorality yet. Already you feel queasy every time you think about the way you killed LightMight. 

Still, one doesn’t just go around California Cabana-ing every single person they see, so when YOUNG MIDORIYA! starts walking back to whichever hovel he crawled out of, you follow him until you see someone trip in front of him, large drink in their hands. 

What would have soaked his shirt now completely coats his face with just a liiiiitle bit of wind.

Respect your elders, kid. You’ll never be the next Mini Might with that attitude. Although, that isn’t any reason to apologize that profusely to the lady that spilled the drink. No, there’s no need to buy her a new drink either, your face got soaked, not her’s, she was the one not looking where she was going. OFFERING AN AUTOGRAPH FROM ERASERHEAD? HUH? DID SHE LOSE HER DRINK OR DID SHE LOSE HER WHOLE GODDAMN FAMILY?

Oh, she doesn’t even know who Eraserhead is. Ha. That’s right, walk home with your sorry little green head all wet. That’ll teach you not to bribe civilians.

—————————————————

The next day, you wake up, ignore Hawks’ text first thing in the morning, open your window and jump out. Then you wake up in your bed again, and repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It’s entertaining for all of six minutes before the nothingness and despair becomes passionless.

What’s left? What more is there?

Well, it was kinda fun taking Ryukyu up to space (no it wasn’t?). You could try that again. Opening the window, you go up this time, instead of down.

Today, you’ll try to reach the sun.

First, you’re shot by someone who must think you were a stray bird. First, rude. Second, still illegal. Rot in jail. You love being a pro hero, the police do whatever you say with overt rudeness but begrudging submission. 

Second, you look into the sun too long and uh. Die. That one’s embarrassing.

Third, claws dig into your hips and yank you down. 

“Hey!” You scratch at the hands assisting gravity in bringing you closer to the ground. “What the hell, what are you doing? You never get here this early!”

“What are you doing? Where are you even going?”

“I will kick you in the balls if you don’t let me go, you dumb shit!”

“You’re so nice,” Hawks drawls, and his legs wrap around yours too, one arm around your front to pin your arms to the side. Now it’s only his wings keeping you afloat, his air giving you flight. It infuriates you, appealing muscles aside. “Someone just took a picture of us, by the way. Have fun explaining that one.”

You growl as fiercely as humanly possible, wriggling in his grasp. “Stupid stupid stupid bird impedes justice, gets murdered for it.”

“Too wordy for a hashtag.”

“Okay, how’s about—” It makes your chest hurt when you do it, but you suck in wind towards you using your own breath, and shoot it down to throw his arms away from you. “Hashtag I Did Hawks’ Dad!”

His wings flap as he falls, but he catches himself in no time. You’re propelling back up already, clouds not even within touching distance yet. Not that you wanna touch them. They’re really cold. Might as well touch Endeavor’s heart while you’re at it.

“For your information.” His nails graze your nape this time, and he grips the back of your uniform. With a grunt, he pulls you back again, too strong for those weak birdy bones. You shoot downwards, gasping. “That would make you a criminal fucker.”

You’re sideways, hair twisting in strange ways as you glare up at him. His wings expand impressively, blocking the sun and giving you a good look at a world of crimson gold. 

“Sorry about your dirtbag father. Can you get out of the fucking way?”

Hawks holds up a finger with a condescending look, pointing to his right, then his left. “See these? These are legitimate directions to fly in. Up is nothing. Up doesn’t have anything for you.”

“You’re a fake friend,” you spit, jetting up with a fist raised. 

He blocks, immediately raising his leg to kick you, but you saw that move coming because sometimes you watch his fight compilations for entertainment (and his compilations in real life too, duh). His foot connects with your arm, and the sunlight gleams in his visor. “Is that so? Elaborate for me.”

“Do you know how fucking bored I am? Do you have any idea how much I hate every single fucking person on this planet?”

You land a square hit on his chest; the victory is short lived. Feathers sneak into your sleeves and pull you down, ignoring your kicking and screaming.

“Who could you possibly hate?” he sings.

“You, for starters, winged piece of shit! And Endeavor, yeah, that’s right, dickrider. Cry about it. I hate All Might too—did you know he’s a fraud? And his stupid ass sidekick, or ex boyfriend, or whatever, I paid him a visit and every time he’s about to tell me my future I end up dying, because life hates me just as much as I hate life! I’m not even allowed to know how I go out! Ryuku and Best Jeanist think they can appeal to my better nature, well, I DON’T HAVE ONE! Oh, I hope you get to marry someone someday, Hawks, and I hope they cheat on you and take all your money.”

It might look like you’re flailing, but you’re not. You’re just trying to air out your own clothes to get the feathers out. The man who had taken a picture of you is not full on recording the fight you and Hawks are having.

You flash him two matching middle fingers. 

“Stop it,” Hawks snarls, apparently fed up now (one word against Endeavor and Fanboy Hawks comes out to play). “That shit’ll go viral, you know it will.”

“Sorry to ruin your perfect image, golden boy.” You finally rip the last feather out of your sleeve, biting it in half and spitting it out just to spite him. “Kiss my ass—fuck!”

You’re pinned. Fully against the building. The feathers aren’t under your clothes, they don’t need to be. They connect with each other to form a link that pins your ankles and wrists individually and before you can suck in any air a few more stuff into your mouth as a makeshift gag. Upside down. “I’m not worried about my image, songbird. Your popularity rating is at an all time low lately.”

Because you don’t pose for posers the way he does. And also maybe how not child friendly you are in interviews. Maaaybe because most of the other heroes don’t even like you enough to team up with you.

Not! That! It! Matters!

Hawks can read you well enough from your eyes. He maneuvers his body upside down to look at you face up, and looks into your gaze with a slight quirk of his lips. “What’s the matter, Nightingale? You hate hero society all of a sudden?”

NO SHIT.

“You wanna skip patrol today?”

NO.

“Why not?”

WE’LL BE CALLED TO FIGHT CLOCKINTHEHOLE ANYWAY AND IF WE DON’T GET THERE IN TIME PEOPLE GET INJURED AND YOU GET ALL SAD FOR THE REST OF THE DAY.

“Sorry, gonna need your mouth to transcribe that one.” The gag is lifted and before you can scream he covers your mouth with his hand, “Hey,” he coos, looking like his hair is flying up, “I’m serious. We can skip patrol, or I can do it on my own. I’ll cover for you, no problem.”

“Dude,” you choke, and the wetness running up your temple makes you realize you’re crying, “I wanna die.”

His face changes immediately, dropping every bit of his persona in an instant. The feathers loosen and release you, dropping you, and he catches you bridal style before you can turn on Aerial. 

“Alright, hang on.” His face is pained as he nudges your window open, carrying you in. “Hang on.”

The blood rushes back to your head, and the tears fall normally. He places you against your headboard, right next to the body pillow you always wake up next to. The sight of it makes you cry harder.

“Hey, hey.” Just like he did every time you tried to manipulate fighting tactics out of him to use against Endeavor, Hawks’ thumbs come up to brush your tears away. He sits at the edge of your bed, as though he’s visiting you in the hospital. “Hey, pretty girl, c’mon. Talk to me. Tell me everything. Let me help you.”

Your hands tangle in your own hair and your eyes shut, looking every bit the crazy lady you’ve become. “I want to fly into the sun. Please, just let me do that.”

“I can’t,” he pleads, taking his visor off and setting it aside. His jacket goes next, and he drapes it over you like the two of you aren’t indoors. And not on a date. He’s watched one too many cheesy romcoms. His favorite is John Tucker Must Die. You think that’s because he has mommy issues.

“I can’t,” he repeats, nudging himself next to you and moving your hands from your hair to your lap. His own hands go up to pat your hair down, and brush your shoulders, touch as light as a feather. 

He’s grooming you. Dumb bird. 

A painful sob escapes you, and you fall into him as he rubs your arms, your back, your hair. His bodysuit quickly becomes wet with your tears, but he doesn’t seem to mind, lips on your temple and arms tight around you. He even leans down and kisses a tear straight off your cheek.

“I’ve been living the same day again and again. I’ve lost count of the days. I killed people and I manipulated you and you keep helping me but nothing works. Everyday I have to go through this. Everyday the universe finds a way to kill me. I haven’t—” Your own wail cuts you off, and he squeezes you closer. “I haven’t seen nighttime in forever! I’ll forget what nighttime looks like soon, I’m so sick of the sun!”

He doesn’t say anything. Sometimes he believes you straight away, sometimes he doesn’t, but either way he eventually takes it in stride. He cheers you up. He takes you places or he talks and talks and talks until you’re laughing, laughing so hard you almost don’t feel the pain when you die.

His lips burn on your skin. He keeps them on your temple, warming you far more than his jacket does. 

“I hate telling you this every time,” you sniff, “I wish there was a way I could fast forward it.”

Still, he doesn’t talk. He moves instead, holding you to his heart like you’re.

Gold.

When Hawks does speak, his voice is thicker than normal, like he’s holding back something. Tears of his own, or a confession. Too many times he’s seen you vulnerable now, even if he doesn’t remember, and you don’t think you’ll ever see him in such a state. 

“If you wanna fly into the sun, I won’t stop you.”

You look at him. No hint of a lie in those golden eyes. Pulling away from the safety you’d embraced for a second, you sit back and swallow. “Yeah? No lie?”

“No lie. You’ll come back, right? The day will reset. So it’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Unless today is finally the last day. But you doubt it. You’ll know when it is. If it ever comes.

“Then you can go. Or…”

A few minutes ago, you’d have jumped out the window the second he stopped holding you back. “Or?”

“Or.” His tongue pokes into the side of his cheek. Thinking face. One of the few people who doesn’t have a dumb thinking face. This one actually looks like he’s thinking. “You let me take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Surprise,” he says softly, “you’ll like it. Promise.”

And you figure you can always fly into the sun tomorrow. The giant ass star isn’t going anywhere.

—————————————————

He’s had a hand over your eyes for a couple minutes now, guiding you inside…somewhere. Every few seconds he makes a shushing sound, to who you assume are bystanders wondering why the rude hero who trended number one on Twitter this morning (#FrightingaleBreakdown) is wandering around.

“Are you taking me to a strip club?” you ask suddenly. “I really don’t wanna go to a strip club right now.”

“No, but that’s a good idea. Tell me that one later. Or, tomorrow, or whatever. Whenever you want.”

Yeah. Okay.

A door closes, and that’s when he finally moves his hand. You’d assumed you would have to shield your eyes from some ceiling light. But instead, you’re met by even more darkness.

Well. Not total darkness.

There’s a hint of white. A sliver of silver. And it’s everywhere.

You honesttoGod gasp, staggering back as you witness the night sky. The stars twinkle like shiny teeth (that sparkle, adding beauty to my faaaace, my shiny teeth that glisten, just like a christmas tree, you know they’d walk a mile, just to see me smile (woo!) my shiny teeth and me). Your hands tremble as they close over your mouth, and you don’t realize that you’re tearing up until Hawks’ fingers are under your eyes again, catching the tears before they can fall.

“I know a planetarium isn’t the same as the actual night.” He glows like this, how does one do that? What’s his skincare routine? “But…it’s better than nothing, and I’ll bring you here whenever you want. You say the word to me and we’re here. Or anywhere else. If you can’t get out of the loop, then you should take advantage of it. Have fun. Do things you’ve never had time to do before. I’ll help you.”

For all this trouble, you should stare up at the faux sky, not at him.

“And um, to speed up the process.” His cheeks dust pink, and he whispers, “Keigo.”

That’s when you find your voice. “What?”

“Keigo. My name. I’ve never told anyone, so, you know. I’ll believe you faster.” His face is red now, all the way up to the tips of his prickly ears. 

“Kei-go.” You test it out on your tongue, eyes on him. “Well, what if I’m just messing with you and I’m not actually reliving today?”

He exhales in a way that tells you the thought didn’t even cross his mind. As if you’re sooo goodhearted you would never do such a thing. But you absolutely would.

“It’d be worth it.” Hawks—Keigo—shrugs. “To hear you say my name.”

Oh.

You step forward, you think, to kiss him, but before you get the chance the ground shakes, and then crumbles directly under your feet. You don’t even hear his cry of surprise. Is this an earthquake? No, quicksand? But that makes no sense—except the curse doesn’t make any sense at all, so yeah. Sure. You’ll go out like that.

You wake up with the taste of sand and good sense never to try and kiss your partner again. 

—————————————————

“You’re early!” Hawks greets you at patrol.

“Yeah, well.” You sigh, blowing into the cup of hot tea in your hand. “We don’t all take our time like you, Keigo.”

[fablesuntold]

@musingmemories sent: ❛i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me.❜ — From Mary-Jane to Peter Spider-Man)

‘Thank you for protecting me.’ While not a common phrase thrown around in everyday life, Peter had grown all too used to hearing it exhaled out through shaky breaths of relief.

Whether it was stuttered out after catching somebody last second as they plummeted down from a height to what had almost been a gruesome end, or after rushing into a burning building and pulling a victim out unscathed? It always ended the same with endless gratitude being thrown his way, sometimes assisted by tight hugs and even kisses to his mask from the more eccentric of people— not that Peter particularly minded the showering of affection after a job well done. The life of a hero and the adoration that came with it sure did make a nice change to the scowls and abuse he received in his everyday life living as Peter Parker.. the college freak. A dork. As opposed to a ‘thank you’ it was always ‘move it or I’ll beat your ass, Parker!�� Before being shoved into a row of lockers or a trash can to be made a mockery of for the whole college to laugh at yet again just for simply existing.

It was nice to feel desired. Respected. But with great power came great responsibility— Uncle Ben’s words the constant reminder in keeping him humble and grounded in his newfound fame, a reminder not to let the power get to his head. Although Spider-Man was somewhat of an icon? Peter Parker was just another ordinary guy from Queens.

However.. today Peter may have made an exception in showing off just a little in saving his long-time crush who just so happened to be his next door neighbour— the girl next door, quite literally. Mary-Jane Watson, caught up in an alleyway brawl.. outnumbered six to one. That seemed like an unfair match, and Peter highly doubted she’d intended on attracting the attention of the sleazy scumbags who seemed dead set on getting handsy with her. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out exactly what they wanted from her— and it wasn’t just her purse. Even just the thought had Peter’s blood boiling so much so that he had no choice but to intervene.. as Spider-Man, of course.

Pulling his punches in this instance had been tough. The wolf whistles sent her way prior to his interruption, along with the disgustingly lewd innuendos barked at her only fuelled him to drive his fist harder into each one of their smug faces. What was New York City coming to when a woman couldn’t even walk home alone safely at night? But Spider-Man wasn’t a killer. Despite how badly he wanted to teach these guys a real lesson.. enough was enough.

❛i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me.❜ The somewhat sheepish tone pierced through the silence, prompting Peter to reluctantly release his hold on one of the unconscious perpetrator he’d delivered a beat down to. Just as well MJ had stepped in, otherwise.. would he really have been able to stop himself?

Regaining his composure and allowing the rage clawing at his chest to ebb away, Peter finally turned to face MJ to stare at her through his mask. “Oh, no. Don’t mention it. I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, remember~?” Although a thank you wasn’t necessary at all.. there was no denying that hearing it fall from MJ’s lips made his heart skip several beats. It wasn’t everyday your crush gawked in awe at you either, as if you were the most amazing thing they’d ever come to know. “..Hey, I remember your face. We met a couple days ago. I have to say it’s becoming quite a habit, you getting into trouble.. I’m starting to think you’re a magnet for it.” A light tease in hopes to ease any lingering anxiety she may have felt— Peter finding it oddly less difficult to talk to her as somebody else. Somebody who didn’t hunch or stammer over his own words.

Risking a swift glance around at the groaning heap of animals men who were barely conscious, Peter couldn’t help but to wolf whistle at the bloodied sight before him— a taste of their own medicine. “They’ll be feeling that tomorrow.. but how about we focus on getting you home, hm?” Friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man; both hero and chaperone, apparently. Truthfully? He’d just finished his rounds of the city anyway. And like hell he was going to pass up an opportunity to walk MJ home— well.. Spider-Man walking her home, technically. Not Peter.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

To Be Loved | Maggie Hughes

Trevor Zegras x Maggie Hughes

"Trev, you know I hate surprises."

"I think we all learned that less on your 18th birthday," He laughs, and I can just picture his cocky smile as we walk through whatever freezing building he's led me into, severely regretting only wearing a long-sleeve. "Poor Alex is still scared."

"Well maybe he shouldn't have jumped out from behind the corner," I rebut, crossing my arms.

"Baby, you punched him in the face."

"It was a reflex!"

"Whatever you say-"

"Trevor, I will take this blindfold off -"

"No, no!" He pauses me, hands moving from my shoulders to the sides of my head where the blindfold sits. "Like, two minutes more, please Baby."

"Only because you said you'd get me a cat for my birthday," I agree, him humming along.

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"I remember it vividly. I had Luke record you when we were out to dinner that night."

"Well, I'm going to take this off right now and we're going to focus on tonight, okay?" His voice whispers, coming from much closer now as we slow to a stop.

"I'm all ears, Handsome," I assure, chuckling a little. "Literally, please take this blindfold off already."

"Your wish is my command," His hands reach around to the back of my head, gently untying the fabric that covers the world from my eyes. And when the fabric falls away, I realize why it's so cold for California.

We're in the Ducks arena, no one but Trev in sight as we stand where the Zamboni always exits, eyes on the ice in front of us.

"Trev, what are we doing here?"

"I got the GM's permission to come in today as long as I don't trash the place," He begins to explain, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me back into his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder. "So I got your skates out of the closet and figured we could skate for a bit, just us."

"I- Trev, I haven't skated since the season ended last year," I can't help but remind, feeling him nod against me.

"I know, but you've been skating nearly as long as I have, and I wanted to surprise you with something fun for Valentine's Day," He ends with a kiss to my cheek, arms wrapping tighter against me.

Even in his grasp I wiggle around, spinning myself chest to chest and stretching onto my tip toes, meeting his lips with mine.

"Thank you, Trev. This means the world," I whisper, our foreheads resting against one another. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Baby," He returns, giving my ass a squeeze as some love song from the 2000s turns on to the speakers, making me laugh.

"Trevor, you said no one else was here," I pull away, him groaning but moving his hands to my hips to turn me around, finger pointed to the sound deck.

And who would it be if not our favorite old roommate.

Jamie Drysdale.

"I saw his hands on your ass, I've done my job, I'm out of here!" He hollers over, not even waiting for a response as we laugh, standing huddled together, in no hurry to take the ice quite yet.

"I think we scared him when I moved in."

"Jimmy's a big boy, he'll survive."

[kactiworld]

KACTIWORLD - CHAPTER 5 - USURPER - C-SIDE

“Today right here in the 44 west 12th street square of Desarnia, our Mayor, David Plaqueman will be giving a speech! With the election so soon, it is quite a wonder why he would plan this on such short notice. On another note, the neighboring country across the Getler Sea has been accused of dumping radioactive waste into the ocean. More on that soon, back to you station 15.”

“Alright, we’re good…”

“Jesus. Thank god. This place is starting to reek, let’s go.”

That news reporter is right, it does smell here. But that can’t stop me from sticking around. The speech starts in 15 minutes. In 30 minutes I have to be in that spot, which means I have 20 minutes to do a little investigating. I know that Darius is backstage. This killer I’m after has to be connected to him somehow, he just has to be, there is no doubt about it now. 

Walking into the square, I could see many radicalized citizens that seemed to be dawning that same tragedy mask that the gang members were wearing at the warehouse. There was a stage with an empty podium, the backstage section of the set could be seen just slightly, and inside was Darius, just as I expected. What I didn’t expect was what I saw him doing. He was shaking hands with officials of the city? Of the country? I decided to go in closer. Sneaking around to the back of the stage I tried my best to hide my face from other citizens that could have been onlooking. 

I could only slightly hear Darius and the others that were inside when putting my ear to the wall. I looked up and saw trusses that held up lights that weren’t in use. I tried my best to try and climb up to see if I can get a good look at what is going on. Eventually with the help of some misplaced boxes and water drums, I was able to vault myself onto the wall and perch on an iron truss. There are 20 minutes left until I have to go.

“Darius, sir, you don’t know how excited we are to have you in our ranks as a governor, and mayor. The president is extremely uhm… pleased. With this decision.”

“I would hope that he is. I worked very, very hard to get to the position that I am now in, Mister…”

“Mister…?”

There was an awkward silence.

“Ugh, tell me your fucking name, god dammit!”

“O- oh! Oh! It’s Joysing, Governor Joysing, sir…”

“Joysing…”

“Sir, we talked yesterday.”

“Did we? We did! Yes. Yes ahem. We did, officer Joysing.”

“Governor.”

“Right.”

This was very weird, Darius was acting strange, not like the way I saw him a couple nights ago. 

“Yeah John! The weather is blazing hot today here in the square, and in just about 5 minutes we are getting ready to hear a speech given to us by our Mayor, David Plaqueman. Make sure to keep a water on you and try to stay cool in this hot weather! Back to you in the station, John!”

Sweat rolled down my forehead and pooled at the tip of my nose. I was as still as a gargoyle looking down at the walls of a castle. My hands started to shake and slip from how wet my palms were from sweat.

“Sir, Darius. The speech is starting.”

This isn’t a speech for the mayor. It’s a speech for Darius. He is the one that is going to be walking out there. That is when the reality of the situation had punched me in the face. Darius was taking over the entire city. Not by drug trades or by illegal weapons, but by literally taking control of the city, as the mayor. And he’s a governor now?

My hand slightly slipped and the lights shook a bit. Darius stopped and slowly looked up at the light down the truss that shook. His eyes scanned all the way down the truss to where I was slowly. I had to get out of here. I jumped down to the door, but right before I was about to walk away, I heard a door open behind me…

“Chris Harrington? The star detective…? What a surprise!”

My heart was beating out of my chest. I turned around, and there he was. The six foot 2 monstrosity of a man towering over me. 

“I’ve heard so many good things about you. Like that murderer in 1990?!”

“Uhm. Yeah. That guy was a lot of work! Phew! A lot of sleepless nights on that one.”

“Yeah I bet. You know, Chris…”

Darius put a hand on my shoulder. He had gloves on, and I could feel and hear the leather squeeze as he gripped my shoulder.

“I’ve been a fan for a long, long time. What are you doing here?”

“Well, you see. I…”

“Sir, Darius. The speech!”

“Oh. Well, I wish we could’ve talked more, Chris.”

Darius patted my shoulder and tilted his head. For a second I could’ve sworn I could have seen the light reflecting off his eyes, creating the illusion of two small white dots as eyes, surrounded by the dark holes of endless void that rests within the inside of his mask. A chill rose up my back and throughout my entire body. 

“...fuck.”

I walked towards the street alley that the killer wanted me to go to at this time. I had about 15 minutes left to get there. The speech started and I looked back to watch. Darius walked out on the stage and tapped the microphone. 

“Hello, citizens of Desarnia. Some of you most likely know me. And for the ones who choose to ignore the world around themselves, you do not. My name is Darius Graves, and I will be giving Mayor Plaqueman’s speech today.”

“Darius went on with some government drivel, like he isn’t a massive criminal, but what are we supposed to do about it? He controls everything, he can literally do whatever he wants. I’m surprised he hasn’t done this yet.

I walked over to the street alley that the killer told me to be at. It was time. Am I going to meet the killer? Am I going to be… No. No that couldn’t be the case. 

Just as my watch hit 1:30 pm. I heard the sound of an alarm clock go off in a nearby pile of trash. I ran over and uncleared it, thinking it could be related to the killer. What I found rocked my core so badly that my hair grayed at that very moment. 

A man, mid 40s it seems, gasping for air as he held onto his forearm. He was pretty fit for his age and had a fully grown beard around his jawline that was in the process of turning white. 

“Sir, are you alright?”

“Awha? Who the fuck are you? Wha… What are you doing here.”

“Let me see your arm sir.”

I reached for his arm and he swatted me back, hitting me in the face, most definitely leaving a red mark on my cheek. 

“Get the FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

I sat on the floor, shocked. Just who the hell is this guy? When he swatted me away he lifted his arm. He had a bunch of holes, as if he had been pricked by a cactus. I knew it. It was the killer…

“Sir, let me see your wallet, please!”

“Ugh, you’re very annoying, you know that?”

The stranger slid his wallet over to me, if I was correct about this, then he should be a gang member…

I opened the wallet and looked inside. It. This guy. He was.

This guy is Darius Graves.

“What the… No. No, that's impossible. I just talked to Dar…”

“That stupid ass kid. Ugh.”

“Stupid kid?”

Darius coughed up blood and foam. “The kid. Up there.” he pointed to the stage.

“... With me in charge, I can promise you all, there will be change around here! Aren’t you tired of the police not taking care of the crime around here?!”

“Wait… So that’s the…”

“Yeah…” Darius sighs. “That’s my son, Karter.”

“...AND THEN IN THIS CITY, DESARNIA WILL NOT JUST BE KNOWN AS THE DESERT CITY, BUT INSTEAD A CITY OF POWER, AND OF WEALTH!”

“Wait. Did you say Karter?”

Darius coughed more, the light in his eyes faded. “Yes you fuckin’ idiot. My son, Karter. He came back from the grave to haunt and kill me. And now this.”

I could feel and hear my eyes sink into the back of my skull. Karter… Karter Graves…? That’s the killer's name? And that is. The friend that Alice has…

“ACCEPT ME AS YOUR NEW MAYOR, YOUR NEW LEADER, AND I WILL GUIDE YOU ALL TO GREATNESS, AND NEVER ABANDON THOSE IN NEED!”

The crowd roared. They couldn’t get enough of him. The crowd was happy for this guy… Do they know who the hell he is?!

“Darius! What the hell is going on?!-”

I looked back. Darius had died. He drowned and choked on his own blood and spit. 

“Yes! YES! I WILL BE HERE FOR YOU! AND PROUD OF IT! Yes… Me, Darius Graves, as your new leader.”

CHAPTER 5 END

[skylarmoon71]

Lex Luthor (Smallville) AU Chapter 16

“I’m really glad you decided to stay for Spring Break sweetheart.” You smile at Martha with a grin.

“I miss eating your pies. College life is overrated. “ You joke. Jonathan chuckles, cup of coffee in his hand.

“How about you give your old man a hand outside huh.”

You nod.

“Of course.” You’re both headed outside. There’s a smile on your face.

“How are you feeling dad?”

Jonathan brushed it off.

“No need to worry. I am getting older, you know.”

He’d been to the doctor a few times in the last month, which brought on your question.

“I hope you’re not just saying that.”

When you got to the barn, he placed the cup down.

“Mr. Kent.” Lex’s call gained both your attention. Your face lit up upon seeing him, and Jonathan straightened.

“Lex, what brings you by.”

Jonathan folds his arms, and Lex sends you a little smile. You aren’t really sure why he’s here out of the blue. To be quite honest you don’t care. Any excuse to see him was welcomed. Especially with all he’s been juggling. Though today, it’s like he’s on a mission.

You’re both ready to hear whatever he has to say. But you feel a throb in your chest, and you stagger.

“(Y/N)!”

Both Lex and Jonathan respond, running to your side.

“What’s wrong?!” Lex’s eyes search yours for an answer. You just shake your head.

“I-I don’t know..”

You weren’t in pain per say. It was just..unusual.

“Lex I-”

You blink, and the man that runs by in a red jacket and blue t-shirt catches you off guard. He’s moving at a speed that only you have been able to achieve. He grabs Lex right in front of you. When you blink, he’s gone, and Jonathan flinches at the whiplash from the wind. He looks just as shocked as you.

That changes to anger quickly, and you chase after him, teeth clenched.

Trailing the path he’d left, you begin to catch up. You’re right behind him in seconds, and you zoom past, safely grabbing Lex. You make it a few feet away, stopping.

Lex staggers, disoriented.

You don’t waste a second. The minute you know he’s safe, you shoot forward. The male you’d apprehended is now in front of you, and you clench your fist firing a punch that hits him square in the jaw. 

His body is forced back, and he hits the concrete a few times, right before he lands flat on the ground. You race forward, kneeling and grabbing him by the collar as you tighten your fist to deliver another painful punch. You can hear Lex behind you running to catch up.

The guy that looks back at you is clearly alarmed at your strength and speed.

“Wait!!” He yells, but you're still pissed.

“WHY ARE YOU AFTER LEX!!”

You’re furious. Lex finally makes it there.

“(Y/N) stop!!”

You aren’t sure why Lex is defending this person who literally tried to kidnap him.

You’re distracted as he tries to overpower you, but you make a calculated turn on the floor, locking your thighs around his neck, and holding his arm. He gasps, and you just tighten your hold.

“Tell me who you are!!”

“C-Clark…Kent..” 

His words are a bit tight with your legs cutting off his breath.

“Kent…” You release almost instantly, and he coughs, rubbing his neck. You stand slowly, and Lex moves to his side, offering a hand.

“Sorry about that, Clark, she’s pretty protective. “ When Clark regains his breath, he takes the outstretched hand.

“I noticed.” He looks a bit cautious now, and you’re just as confused as when this all started.

“You know him, Lex?”

“I do.”

You’re still waiting for someone to elaborate. When he’s fully upright, that’s when you take in his appearance. The hair, eyes, ruby and sapphire clothing.

“Why do you..look just like me?”

The resemblance is a bit alarming.

“This is Clark Kent. The, Clark Kent.”

No way.

When Lex told you of his whole alternate reality, it felt a bit farfetched, but looking at the male version of you was..unusual.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here Clark? Did something happen with Jor-El.” Clark shook his head.

“No. When you left I..I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that happened. So I asked Jor-El. He told me, he showed me how to get here. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” There’s an earnest look of concern on Clark’s face. For some reason, it’s like looking into a mirror. He’s staring at him like a wounded puppy.

“Is that how I look when I’m worried about you?” Lex laughs at the question.

“Pretty much. Why do you think I try so hard to keep you calm? “ You tilt your head.

“Huh. This is really weird. You’re me, but you’re a guy.” You circle him.

“I could say the same for you. I didn’t know this version of me would be so short and..aggressive.” You frown.

“I’m not short, you’re just a giant! Look at your hands, you’re like a lumberjack!”

“Hey!”

You fold your arms, and so does Clark. A trait no doubt gained from Jonathan. You’re both glaring at each other. If anyone saw this scene, it would look like twins bickering. You were so similar. Down to the jacket and jeans.

“I wish there was someone I could share the humor of this situation with.” Lex is entertained to say the least.

“If you’re me, why’d you try to kidnap him?”

“I wasn’t kidnapping him. I just needed to talk to him.”

“So you zoom in and grab him up in broad daylight. You’re pretty reckless with your powers. I would never make that mistake.”

Clark couldn’t believe this. He was getting scolded by an alternate version of himself about using his abilities.

“Am I usually this pigheaded?”

“On occasion.” Lex comments. You move to Lex’s side.

“Well now you know he’s fine, so you can get going. Lex and I are busy.” You take Lex’s hand.

Clark just stares down at your interlocked fingers. He takes in everything. Your little defiant glare. The soft smile Lex wears as he looks at you batting insults back and forth. This entire scene just emits so much warmth.

“Lex..you really are happy here.”

“I am.” He gives your hand a little squeeze. When Lex’s eyes move back to Clark, he can’t help but feel grateful.

“Thank you Clark. For everything.”

Clark is wearing a smile of his own. He just nods.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave.”

“About time.” You grumble. Clark just chuckles.

“I hope the next time I see you, it’s in better circumstances."

You mean to shoot another snarky remark, but he runs off. The wind hits you in the face, and you frown.

“Kind of annoying, isn’t it. The whoosh.”

Lex smirks, and you’re still wearing an annoyed look.

“You’re lucky I like you.” Lex merely laughs.

[crinkled-emotions]

ok ok ok here we go. Lemme set the stage... Hangman is late to class (which nEVER happens right?? jk yes it does). He comes running, literally running and frantically eating his microwaved breakfast, into the classroom right as Maverick starts lecturing. Then Pete is like "kk fam we're doing aerobatics maneuvers today so suit up ASAP." Hangman tries to scarf down his food, Bad Idea #1, then go up in the jet and do all sorts of crazy shit, Bad Idea #2.

BOOM. TUMMYACHE.

(I have had too much coffee this morning but tbh I regret nothing)

......w*termelon s*gar

*sobs* watermelon... s*gar... I'm fine.

I asked Hangman what he thought about this and dude pretended to be dead and I was like well damn that's a vibe but also- dude, the world's not gonna end... or is it?

Anyway it's nearly midnight but my little brain says you didn't work today use your noggin for something useful and here we go!!

No listen I'm thinking of that one story about the jet, and the puke, and it all- I won't share the whole thing. It's on youtube. Sorry Glen lmao. (time stamped link!)

-

Despite being in the US Navy, where scheduling was key, things tended to be a little up in the air a majority of the time. The Daggers had come to rely on some very basic facts that would get them through everything mildly unstable or the rapid changes in their day to day lives;

The first, Rooster was the mother hen of their group and according to Maverick, he got it from his dad. For a man who had once upon a time almost punched Hangman for making a comment about his two fathers, he was incredibly docile a majority of the time and tended to have advice or a hug for those who needed it.

Phoenix always started the day by throwing an arm over Bob's shoulders at breakfast and stealing his hashbrown from his plate at breakfast because she wasn't quite hungry enough for a full meal but she was indeed hungry enough to eat them every morning. He'd started asking for extra in the queue and the kitchen staff found it hilarious.

Payback and Fanboy, once an inseparable duo, had now roped Bob in with them and the three of them spent a lot of time tossing a football around or talking about something nerdy. Bob preferred Red Dwarf to Star Trek and apparently Fanboy had never heard of Red Dwarf so they were watching that in their spare time. Payback, ever the supportive pilot, always made the drinks and snacks for their viewing sessions.

Lastly, Hangman was never late. Ever. Not even to a doctor's appointment on the other side of base, or to a gathering at Maverick's a few weeks back when he had a dentist appointment right before. Rooster asked him about it once, the first time they went through TOPGUN, and Hangman had shrugged, claiming he'd been raised that being late was never a good look.

-

Yawning, Maverick stood near the lecturn and reached for his paperwork, grimacing.

"Why are we still doing roll call? What are we, twelve?"

"Thirteen, actually Mav, I think I'm getting my first chest hair," Rooster deadpanned which earned snorts of laughter. Maverick sighed, leaning on said lecturn and grimacing.

"Bradley, please, now is not the time to be talking about your delayed-"

"-I'm sorry I'm late, sir. I had to- never mind."

Hangman came rushing into the room, some kind of microwaveable burrito in his hand as he took his seat at the front of the room. Maverick watched him for a moment, shock written on his face, and then he cleared his throat.

"Don't worry about it, I hadn't said anything important yet. Uh, okay, so if the email didn't send last night, a recap of what we're doing today-"

"-what email?" Phoenix asked, confusion on her face, and Maverick blinked for a moment.

"I can't tell if you're fucking with me or I didn't send it right."

He looked to Bob for support but Bob shrugged, staying silent.

"Alright then... I guess we'll go over it. This morning we're getting straight into hops, we're fixing some manoeuvres I wasn't so sure of last week, and then the rest of today we should be- Bagman, you wanna give yourself a moment to breathe before you choke on that poor burrito? What'd it do to you?"

Maverick had been watching Hangman out of the corner of his eye since he came in, surprised to find him scarfing down his breakfast. The younger aviator blushed, tentatively putting down his burrito.

"Sorry, sir."

"Mmhmm. Okay guys, off you go, get your pre-flight checks done and let me know if you need anything. Bradley we'll talk about your sass later."

"Sure thing, Mav."

-

Honestly, the breakfast burrito hadn't even had time to settle as Hangman scrambled into his flight suit. He could hear Bob struggling with his zippers as usual and glanced over his shoulder at Rooster, who was humming along to whatever song was in his head.

"Hey, mom, you wanna help Baby on Board into his baby grow?"

"Suck a fat one, Bagman, I don't see you getting into yours so easy," Bob replied dryly, yet he extended his arms for Rooster to help him. Rooster huffed at Hangman, but chose not to respond. Hangman grimaced, feeling his stomach cramp, and put his ass back on the bench for a moment to recover.

"Oh shit, you're gonna blow chunks before the hop?" Payback scoffed as he rounded the corner from his locker, heading to the exit. To Hangman's surprise he was actually talking to Fanboy, who was bent over the sink and not looking so hot.

"Man, those fuckin' 'ritos, I swear to god I get sick every time I eat them."

Hangman's body temperature suddenly dropped and he shivered, swivelling toward the sinks in the locker room.

"Hey, Fanboy, what did you mean?"

"I was super hungry this morning but I got to breakfast late enough that there were only burritos left."

Oh, fuck.

-

"Okay, split into two teams. Coyote, I want you to spend some time working with Rooster today, you and Hangman are completely in sync but you and Rooster seem to be ever so slightly out."

"Yes sir," Coyote replied easily, navigating back toward Rooster's jet.

"Hangman, today I really want you to focus on communicating with... everyone, really."

His stomach was cramping again, and he could feel bile building in his throat. He swallowed it down, one eye on the air and the controls while he frantically searched for the puke bags. He'd just restocked them, he was sure-

"You got that, Hangman?"

He didn't have it, but he agreed anyway.

"Yes sir, I got it. Hey, do I get bonus points for taking out Rooster?"

"Sure, why not."

"What- hey! Mav!" Rooster protested. The Daggers could hear Maverick laughing.

"It'd be nice for you to be quiet for five minutes, so sure, you two compete against each other first. The first person to get tone wins, we'll wait over here."

"Fight's on!" Rooster called, clipping his mask on properly. Hangman furrowed his brows, chasing him through the clouds. They were matched neck-for-neck, but then Rooster pulled the move Maverick had taught him and let Hangman pull up to his tail, trying to get tone. Right at the last second he pulled up and settled behind Hangman, tone sounding immediately.

"God damn it," Hangman hissed whilst the others cheered. He could hear Rooster laughing through the comms and swore, ripping his mask off to catch his breath.

"Alright you two, knock it off. Hangman, sounds like you just earned yourself 200 push ups."

The rest of the Daggers cackled. Hangman winced, pinching the bridge of his nose as his stomach grumbled.

Oh, hell, seriously-

"Alright, everyone invert, we're going to-"

His stomach cramped and then he felt the bile rising again, but this time it was coming up. Reaching for where the sick bags were supposed to be he found nothing and cursed himself, one hand navigating his jet while the other covered his mouth just in case.

"Who is that gagging? Is everyone good?" Maverick asked. When the other Daggers called back that they were okay, Maverick cleared his throat.

"Hangman, I think you should go back to base, yeah? Get back on solid ground."

"S-sir, I- Mav-"

Too late.

-

"Guys, I'm so- fuck- I'm so sorry."

"It's not the worse we've seen, but your jet is out of commission for the rest of today at least."

The ground crew peered into Jake's jet, matching grimaces on both of their faces at the splashes of puke all over the controls and his seat. He was still sitting on the wing, a bucket in his arms as Maverick watched from the ground. His hands were on his hips and his aviators were staying over his eyes, but neither of these things hid the concern on his face.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Maverick asked, shielding his face from the sun with his hand.

"Uh, think it was the breakfast burrito. Fanboy wasn't so hot either."

He buried himself back in the bucket, puking up what little he had left. Maverick grimaced, watching the rest of the Daggers coming over from where they'd all abruptly landed to see what was going on.

"Did anyone else eat the breakfast burrito?" Maverick asked them. When they all shook their heads, he facepalmed.

"You're all excused. Jake, get down from there, I'll take you home."

"Mav I'm not going anywhere until the wing stops spinning."

"Fair enough. Scoot to the edge, you can pretty much slide on to Rooster's shoulders."

"Hey-"

"-what-"

"-shut up you two, just work together for once. Rooster, go and stand by the wing."

"Yes sir," Rooster huffed, Payback going over to give him a hand. Hangman passed the bucket down to Coyote who seemed mildly disgusted and then scooted to the end of the wing. He managed to slide down, wrapping his arms around Rooster's neck. Rooster caught his legs but then proceeded to pretend to drop him. It was enough to rekindle the nausea and Hangman buried his head into Rooster's shirt. In seconds it was damp and he couldn't believe he'd just puked on his frenemy. He was never going to live this down.

-

[reidsaurora]

Part Twelve: "Years Of Hoping" ~ S. Reid

Summary: After years of hoping, Spencer might finally receive his chance to reunite with Imogen.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Imogen Sterren (bipolar!OC)

Word Count: 1,714

Content Warning: DARK THEMES (this fic discusses Spencer having been m0lested as a child, PLEASE continue at your own risk), explicit language, mentions of medications, mentions of mental health facilities, mentions of food, minor character death but not really, tiny mention of alcohol, let me know if i missed anything!

Genre: Angst, really just a ton of angst

Extra Notes: nothing i can think of at the moment!!

Based On the Song: Soon You'll Get Better by Taylor Swift

Originally Written: 01/08/2023 through 01/21/2023 (re-edited on 05/14/2023)

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

"Soon You'll Get Better" series masterlist can be found here!

"𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠." - 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐞𝐥𝐡𝐨

Spencer paced anxiously around the meeting room of the Atlantic City Police Department's precinct. His chest heaved, his heart thumping with so much rage that he wasn't quite sure he wouldn't punch Arthur Malcolm in the face when he arrived at New Lives Mental Health Facility.

He stayed silent as Hotch directed each team member with new instructions to find this unsub, now known as Samantha Malcolm.

Finally, after the raven-haired man had finished his instructions, Spencer spoke up for what felt like the first time in the whole afternoon. "I wanna go to New Lives. Whether or not she's there, I wanna talk to the father. There are literally hundreds of therapies to help kids through loss. Electroshock is not one of them."

Though no one could see it, Penelope's brows knitted together with worry on the other end of the phone. "Hey, Reid. Before you go, there's something I need to talk to you about. Well, actually there's something I need to show you through Derek's laptop, if he doesn't mind sharing of course."

Derek smirked. "You know how good I am at minding my manners, mama."

"Garcia, can it wait? I mean, we're kind of on a time crunch here," Spencer said, nearly in a grumble.

She swallowed hard and nervously. "I think you're gonna want to see this now." Spencer knew by her tone of voice that she was on the brink of tears.

Spencer snatched the computer up and rushed to take his phone off speakerphone mode as he strutted out of the room. He nearly slammed the door behind him as he finally found an empty room. "What is the matter, Penelope?"

Her heart panged as she considered the information she was about to give him. "OK, first of all, I know you're upset over this case. I know that it brings up past feelings about your father and the things that happened to you as a kid. So, please, if you need to sit the rest of this case out, just tell me and I will let Hotch know."

By the time she'd finished her spiel, they both felt silent cries leaving their bodies. He lifted a thumb to his cheek, forcefully wiping away a tear that managed to escape. "I'm fine, Penelope," he said, his words possessing as much bite as a fresh lemon. "It's just been… it's been a long day, OK?"

"Spencer, you're not fine. This man-"

"Is horrible and vile, just like my own father," he provided. "He's not the first pedophile we've dealt with and he won't be the last. I'm going to be fine. Really."

She nodded as if he could see her. She spoke again, forcing herself to swallow the hockey puck sized lump in her throat. "I also know it's the three-year anniversary of you meeting Imogen and I know that's part of the reason why you're upset today."

Imogen: a name he hadn't heard but a handful of times in the past three years since they'd spoken last.

"Penelope, what does that have to do with-"

She stopped him. "That's why I need you to look at the computer."

Spencer placed the computer on the table, watching as Penelope clicked through her slides, even from almost two hundred miles away. No matter how much time passed and no matter how much technology continued to progress, Spencer would never be convinced that the blonde on the other side of the screen was anything short of a wizard.

Finally, after clicking through a couple different slides, she spoke again. "OK, what's on the next one might be a little triggering so I'm going to need you to sit down."

"Penelope, I'm not-"

"Spence, please," she said, her voice as soft as a baby lamb. "Please just sit down. For me."

Reluctantly, he sat in the lone desk chair, grasping the armrests hard as it nearly slid it out from underneath him. However, what was on the next slide was enough to make Spencer fall out of the chair, no matter how hard he gripped the armrests.

"Are you alright?" Penelope panicked, having heard Spencer's tussle with the office chair.

"Yeah, I'm…" His tongue went nearly numb as he pulled himself up from the floor. "Imogen is at New Lives?"

Penelope stayed quiet for a moment. She knew no matter how she said her next sentence, she'd be in deep shit with Spencer. So, she went with the band-aid method, ripping it off as quickly as possible. "Spencer, there's… well, do you remember when I told you I knew about Imogen from a tech analyst's perspective?"

His teeth gritted together so hard, Penelope wasn't so sure she wouldn't hear them come out his nose. "Garcia, what did you do?"

"Nothing! I just maybe withheld important information that you probably want to know. But the only reason I didn't say anything was because I thought Imogen should be the one to tell you."

Spencer stayed quiet as Penelope switched to the next page. His tongue went numb once again, his mind in an almost matching state. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The only one of his senses that hadn't left was seeing, which he wasn't sure was a good thing when Imogen's file popped open on the computer screen.

"August…" he managed to get out, his airway feeling as tight as the time he'd had an allergic reaction to shrimp. "August is her son?"

"Her sister Astrid's had custody of him since his fourth birthday, right before Imogen was admitted to Bennington."

"Who's the…" He couldn't even get the words out.

Penelope took a deep breath. "His name was Drew. He left as soon as August was born. Apparently he was seeing another girl behind Imogen's back during her pregnancy."

Spencer could feel his peanut butter and jelly sandwich from lunch rising in his stomach. His cheeks were on fire with something close to boiling rage. "If I ever get my hands on him-"

"Not unless you wanna go six feet under for him," she stopped him. "As it turns out, karma's a bitch. He and the girl got super drunk one night and crashed. Almost killed a little girl the same age as August."

It was all so much for Spencer at one time. The new information. The old feelings. His hand started to flail, something it hadn't done in years, not since he'd vowed off stimming. "You look ridiculous, and it's not helping anymore anyway," he'd told himself. The same day he'd decided to stop concerning himself with Imogen. The same day he'd had his last bad panic attack—one that made him pass out on the way to Penelope's office.

He crawled out of his thoughts, swallowing hard in hopes of eliminating the tears coming up in his throat. "Pen, why did you tell me all of this?"

"You know how the unsub, Samantha, lives at one of her father's halfway houses?"

Spencer nodded as if the blonde could see him. When she didn't say anything, he managed to mumble, "Uh-huh."

"Imogen's living in one of his houses too. The one next door to Samantha's."

The room stayed silent, save for Spencer's heavy breathing and Penelope's on the other end of the phone. His face felt numb yet heavy, like if he didn't know what was happening, he would assume he was having a stroke.

He continued reading through her file silently. He read that her birthday was January the twenty-second, just a mere week after he'd received her last letter. He read that she was born 1982, just a mere three months after he was born. He read that she gave birth to August in 2002. Finally, he read her latest progress report from her new doctor.

After six months on her newest medication, Pristiq (Desvenlafaxine), Imogen is showing many improvements. Her depressive episodes show much milder symptoms than those she experienced when she first transferred to New Lives in 2007. I am going to consult my colleagues and ask their opinions first, but I am thinking of allowing her visiting time with her son.

Spencer's eyes darted down to the clock on the bottom-right corner of the screen, and realized he'd been reading for about three minutes. Three minutes filled with silence thick enough to cut with a knife.

He swallowed the last of his tears and spoke again. "I have to go, Pen. The case…"

She sniffled, clearly having cried during the moment of silence. "Yeah," she mumbled, sniffling once more, "Of course. Be careful out there."

Spencer hated confrontation, but he knew there was something obviously upsetting Penelope, so instead of hanging up and ignoring it for his own sake, he asked, "Is everything alright, Penny?" for his best friend's sake.

"Well, you know how I read all those romance novels. What if this is your second chance romance?"

He pondered her question for a beat, but stayed silent. To be fair, he wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to respond anyway.

"I've read through her file, Spencer. She's slowly getting better but what if you're that one last boost she needs? I mean, her doctor even said in his notes that he might let August come stay with her soon to see how she does. What if you're what she needs to help her through that?"

His hands shook like his life depended on it. On one hand, maybe she was right. Maybe he could help her through it. Maybe this was the chance he'd prayed for all those years ago, when he'd decided to let her go in hopes of getting her back one day.

But on the other hand, maybe she wouldn't want him. Maybe the sight of him at her doorstep would set her off all over again. After all, the last thing he'd ever heard when visiting Bennington was "You started this. She didn't act this way until she met you."

Maybe it was times like these when desperate people found faith. He knew he'd never get what Imogen went through, but he knew there wasn't a day that went by where he hadn't tried to understand. Not once in the entire three years he'd been hoping for their reunion.

Maybe with Spencer's help, Imogen could get better soon.

"𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥." - 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧

So... this was supposed to be posted three months ago...

I know, I know. There's no way I can make that up to you guys. I wish I had a better explanation, but the honest truth is that I had no one to beta read these last few chapters and in my head, they weren't good enough for you guys without it. So, here I am, pushing myself out of my comfort zone and giving you the real, raw, unpolished product.

And hey, what better way to end this? Three chapters, posted at 3:33 pm on a Sunday. 💖

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☆𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒☆