#I came to the conclusion that it will be more funny if they ended up in nicos house tho | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 2 months ago

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𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which one spencer reid tries to focus on work, but keeps getting distracted. first by an unexpected phone call. then by the way you start flirting with another agent right across from his desk. but in the end, why does it even bother him?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spender reid x diva!chemist reader, reader kinda threatens to poison him, but its not a threat, just their silly way of showing mutual affection <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.3k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request. heyyy wonderful people, just letting you know that your request was the second-to-last in my inbox, so im opening them again! feel free to send me your ideas for the diva reader series, im already grateful in advance :>

Spencer usually gave out his phone number only to the people closest to him.

That way, he didn’t get unnecessary calls distracting him from more important matters, and he could be sure that if someone truly needed to reach him, they wouldn’t have any trouble doing so.

So, as he walked through the Quantico office, planning to track down Hotch—who supposedly wanted to see him—he was so absorbed in their case that he pressed his phone to his ear without thinking, without even looking at the screen, fully expecting to hear a familiar voice. Someone from the team, maybe.

Instead…

"Hey there, gorgeous."

A slightly raspy male voice. Spencer immediately estimated the caller to be around forty, judging by the subtle rustling sound—whoever it was, they were holding the phone just a little too close to their mouth.

Spencer froze in place.

His first thought—a wrong number.

His second—another one of Morgan’s pranks.

Just in case it was the latter, he didn’t hang up immediately. If his friend had planned something, he needed to find out what—so he could properly retaliate later.

"We met last night, don’t know if you remember," the man continued after a brief silence, caused entirely by Spencer’s confusion. "I hope you do. Because I sure do. Hard to forget a face like yours. You still there, sweetheart?"

In case anyone had any doubts—Spencer was not the intended recipient of this conversation.

He hadn’t gone out the night before, let alone given his number to a stranger. In fact, he had been in an entirely different state.

"Oh, sweetheart, don’t make me mad now. Or maybe you’re staying quiet because you’re curious how much I remember about you? Want me to remind you what you were wearing?"

Suddenly, it clicked.

After a brief second of pure disbelief, Spencer rolled his eyes upward, staring straight into the glare of the overhead lights. He blinked slowly.

His brain was exceptionally sharp that day. Even more so than usual.

Which meant it didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together. A quick mental chain reaction, linking scattered fragments of information into a single, clear conclusion.

The man on the other end of the line thought Spencer was the woman he had met the night before.

Spencer had a few female friends, but everything—literally everything—pointed to her.

First of all, he was nearly certain none of the others had gone out last night. They had all been working together, after all.

Second, and somehow more importantly—none of them, except her, would have found it remotely funny to give his number to a random guy.

As a joke? Was that what this was supposed to be?

“There’s no need for that,” Spencer cut in sharply, before the man on the other end could start poetically or less poetically describing her outfit.

This time, the silence came from the other side, laced with clear confusion.

Spencer couldn’t stop the faint crease forming on his forehead, nor the subtle tension drawing his shoulder blades together. The entire conversation left a bad taste in his mouth, and it wasn’t just because the guy was wasting his time.

It was his voice.

Self-important. Smug. Wet in a way that made simply listening to him an unpleasant experience. The kind of voice that could turn an otherwise neutral or even affectionate word sweetheart into something damn near degrading.

Years of experience profiling people meant Spencer had no trouble picturing exactly the kind of man he was dealing with. And the distaste coiling in his gut only sharpened.

“For future reference,” he said, barely pausing for breath, his grip tightening on the phone, “I’d suggest double-checking the numbers women give you when they’re trying to get rid of you. Because this isn’t your sweetheart. This is the Behavioral Analysis Unit, which, for your information, is part of the FBI. And your utterly pointless, time-wasting phone call could be considered obstruction of justice, which, surprise, can land you several years in prison.

A loud silence followed—one that left Spencer with a strange feeling. Satisfaction, maybe.

The man cleared his throat, and Spencer would bet good money that there were one or two silent curses mixed in there.

“This whore must’ve given me a fake number,” the guy muttered, no longer speaking directly into the phone.

The sudden shift from sweetheart to whore was so blatant that Spencer couldn’t hold back a sharp, mocking scoff.

“Well, I’m guessing you didn’t think of her as a whore when you were trying to hit on her last night—”

He barely finished the last word before the line went dead.

For a moment, he remained motionless, the phone still pressed to his ear, analyzing his own reaction. He was completely taken aback by it. Almost immediately, though, he forced himself into a nonchalant shrug, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation at an unwanted call.

Work. Right. Work. He had work to do, he had to meet with Hotch…

…but he had barely covered a few meters when his gaze caught a familiar stride and silhouette crossing one of the hallways. And before his mind could even consciously make the decision, he found himself heading in that direction—despite originally going somewhere entirely different.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asked as her hand pressed the elevator button.

She didn’t look at him at first, though she must have heard his footsteps. It wasn’t until he spoke that she slightly turned her head toward him.

“Not too bad,” she admitted casually. Her hands immediately moved to their usual position, arms crossed over her chest, and a small teasing smile danced on her lips.“How about your morning? Any interesting phone calls?”

He opened and closed his mouth, not expecting to be so transparent. He also felt a bit confused by her enigmatic, calm reaction. The elevator stopped, and she confidently stepped inside first.

Spencer followed her.

“I don’t quite get it,” he admitted, furrowing his brows. “Was that supposed to be a joke at my expense, or that guy’s?”

They stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder in the small elevator space. He looked at her, and she stared ahead. She slowly shrugged.

“Maybe both,” she replied, inspecting her nails. Spencer clenched his lips, holding back from saying that she could at least spare him the ignorant, irritating attitude for once. “Or maybe I just wanted to get rid of the pushy guy by giving him the first random number I could think of” She paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “And maybe I was hoping you'd scare the shit out of him with some long lecture, preferably about the law. Was I right?”

She shifted her gaze fully to him, her piercing eyes locking onto him with such intensity that denial was out of the question. He didn’t even need to answer—the flicker of expression that crossed his face gave him away instantly.

Her short laugh filled the elevator.

He always felt a little humiliated, standing there in silence while she laughed at his expense. So he spoke first, blurting out the first thing that came to mind—the thing that had been sitting there for a while now.

“Does that happen a lot? Guys being pushy?”

She gave him a closer look, maybe because of the unintended seriousness in his voice. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that way. Clearing his throat, he tried to appear more indifferent.

“Well, yes,” she said simply. Stating an obvious fact, a reality she was used to. “Every time. But getting rid of them isn’t hard. A well-placed conversation, and they run off just as fast as they showed up.” She scoffed. “But sometimes I’d rather just, you know, actually enjoy my evening instead of dealing with them. And that’s when the fake number trick comes in.”

Spencer caught himself listening with genuine interest. He was well aware of the effect she had on people—how she drew eyes just by existing, how so many of those looks were filled with nothing but desire. He also had the impression that, for the most part, she regarded them with mild disdain—or maybe even enjoyed being the center of attention.

He hadn’t considered that sometimes she’d had enough of them—so much so that she had an entire list of strategies to get rid of them just as quickly as she attracted them.

He realized he had fallen silent, lost in thought. The elevator stopped at her floor—he hadn’t planned on getting in with her in the first place, which meant he was now stuck pretending he was going somewhere else.

She took a step toward the open doors before his voice stopped her.

“Wait, you’re not even going to say thank you?” he asked. “I did waste some time on that guy. That was a solid lecture.”

She stood in front of the open doors, facing him.

“I have a suspicion,” she began, one brow arching as a teasing smirk tugged at her lips, “that you enjoyed it way too much to actually need my thanks.”

She gave him a small wave—just her fingers, really—before the elevator doors slid shut, cutting them off from each other. Spencer hated to admit—even to himself—that she had a point. Okay, a lot of a point, he realized as he recalled that fleeting rush of satisfaction when the call abruptly ended, punctuated by a hint of panic on the other end.

And maybe that was what ultimately decided it—because from that moment on, on the rare occasions he received similar calls, he always had a long, meticulously crafted, stern lecture at the ready. One that, just before the inevitable abrupt hang-up, sent the smallest, most satisfying shiver down his spine.

"You have three hours."

"I can handle it in two."

"Do it in one."

Spencer remembered these words, muttering a soft shit under his breath. The massive stack of papers that not only needed to be read but also carefully analyzed seemed to be getting no smaller. The hour on the clock, however, kept ticking forward.

"Hm? What's up? Do you have something?"

He slowly shifted his unwilling gaze to the man he was trapped in the room with. Well, not literally trapped, but that’s how it felt. Dean Bradley, an agent who’d been working on the case they’d just been assigned to for years, knew it inside out—naturally, he had been assigned to cooperate with them. His current role, however, seemed to involve nothing more than pretending to write something on the whiteboard and occasionally throwing out a theory that supposedly brought them closer to the solution but, in reality, only pushed them further away. Bradley was incredibly distracting to Spencer.

"No... I just... nothing." Spencer replied rubbing his throbbing temple. That case had been exceptionally exhausting, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and the coffee he had just drunk hadn’t helped at all. "Nothing. Just...can you not say anything to me for a while?"

Bradley raised an eyebrow at him but Reid didn’t really care. Simply buried his nose in the papers again, reading, or rather, devouring the pages with his eyes. There hadn’t been the best atmosphere between them ever since Spencer had ignored his outstretched hand for a greeting. Well, that was because he had seen Bradley leaving the bathroom earlier, and even if he had washed his hands, he had immediately touched the door handle that everyone in the building touched, half of whom hadn’t washed their hands. Honestly, Spencer would have preferred to kiss him as a greeting. It would have been safer.

For a moment, Bradley was actually quiet. He didn’t stay that way for too long, though—just long enough.

"So, where are those lab results? Weren’t they supposed to be here by now?"

"They were. So, I’m guessing they’ll be here any minute," Spencer replied shortly.

"It’s taking a while. Maybe I should just go grab them myself?"

Yeah, please do, Spencer nearly begged. He even opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, the door swung open and a woman stepped in, moving with quick, confident steps, but this time with a bit of frustration in her stride.

Completely ignoring the man's gaze landing on her, she stepped up to his desk and dropped the promised lab results onto it with a sharp motion.

"Could you tell me," she began, one hand still resting on the papers, preventing him from immediately going through them. Because she was standing while he was sitting, her figure loomed over him, forcing him to tilt his head slightly to meet her eyes. Naturally, he did, his gaze moving from her hand with neatly manicured fingers to her beautiful face, her bottom lip slightly protruding as she prepared to speak. "When exactly did I become your secretary? Because I don't remember that moment."

Spencer didn't even blink before responding, so used to thir verbal sparring and the fast pace she always set, just like her steps.

"Well, maybe since you started handing out my number left and right," he shot back instantly. Without breaking his gaze, he grabbed the empty cup sitting within arm's reach. "And since you consider yourself my secretary, would you be so kind as to make me a coffee?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Agent Bradley watching their exchange with fascination, focused on only one side of the conversation. No need to specify which side. Meanwhile, the woman tilted her head slightly to the side, a certain gleam lighting up her eyes.

"Sure," she replied, to his surprise. There was something devious in her tone. Suddenly, Spencer didn't want the coffee anymore. "But I’m not sure I’d be so kind as to make sure those ten teaspoons of sugar you put in your coffee are actually sugar, and not, say, arsenic..."

Instinctively, he pulled the cup closer to himself.

"Not ten," he mumbled.

"Oh, my eternal apologies, I exaggerated a bit. Five?"

"Well, now you're getting closer..."

Their conversation, or rather their verbal sparring, was interrupted by a cough.

“Reid,” Bradley said his last name much friendlier than ever before, with a mischievous grin on his face. “When you said the chemist would bring us the lab results, I imagined, I don’t know, Einstein with his hair sticking out in all directions. Did you really lock such a treasure in the lab?” he chuckled. “So it wouldn't distract y’all?”

Spencer looked up at the woman in front of him again, who had only just noticed the third person in the room. Her hand slowly slid off the papers she’d been resting on, though it stayed on the desk. She half turned her body toward the new speaker, casually sitting on the desk. There was something hypnotic in the fluid, clock-like motion as she crossed one knee over the other. For a moment, he just watched, realizing after a while that he wasn’t the only one.

“Maybe I locked myself in there,” she replied. Her tone calm, too calm, as it always was before she’d throw words, like precisely aimed darts, at the other person. “So I wouldn’t have to listen to the same tired lines from agents with the same tired faces, thinking they’re being creative.”

For a moment, he completely forgot about the pile of papers waiting to be analyzed. He watched what was unfolding in front of him, a small smile involuntarily starting to form on his lips. However, it faded the moment he noticed Bradley’s expression. He had expected him to be shut down. Speechless, maybe. Hurt in that characteristic, pathetic way typical of fragile male pride. Instead, Bradley was grinning like an idiot.

“Wow, that’s a bit harsh,” Bradley commented lightly, not in the slightest bit put off by her words. In fact, the fascination on his face only grew.

Spencer couldn’t help but glance at the profile of the woman sitting motionless on the desk. Her gaze was now also more focused, following the person across from her. Her eyes seemed even more concentrated, intrigued, and entertained than during their conversation. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from her, physically making himself look back at the papers. Work, right, work. He had to focus on it, despite how distracted he was by their presence. It was, after all, natural. They were speaking rather loudly, right in front of him. He began reading the text on the page, concentrating only on it.

“You must feel like some princess locked in a tower,”

His ears, against his better judgment, picked up Bradley’s next words. He shook his head. Text. A quick glance at the woman’s face. Text.

“You know, that German fairy tale from the 18th century…”

Spencer, from his own experience, knew that info dumping wasn’t the most effective way to flirt with a woman. Especially when it wasn’t even accurate.

“17th century,” he corrected, unable to stop himself. Both their gazes landed on him, but he didn’t respond to either, keeping his eyes fixed on the papers. He was reading them, but couldn’t grasp their meaning. He started analyzing the same paragraph again, continuing, “Assuming we’re talking about the German version of that fairy tale recorded by The Brothers Grimm. Because, actually, this was developed from the French literary fairy tale Persinette by Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de La Force, which itself is an alternative version of the Italian fairy tale Petrosinella by Giambattista Basile.”

A long silence fell. The woman shifted slightly in her seat, pretending to be focused on her work, and he tried not to look at her face. Was there pity or amusement on it? Why did it matter to him so much to figure that out? What mattered was only one thing: they were bothering him. The two of them. With the noise they were generating, to be precise.

The sound that filled the room was probably just a long breath from Bradley.

“Wow,” he repeated, thrown off. “Thanks for the clarification, Agent Reid.”

“It’s Doctor Reid.”

He couldn’t stop himself and looked at her. She closed her eyes when a smile spread across her lips. She didn’t try to hide it or hold it back. It was simply there. Bradley noticed it too, his arms, which had been casually resting on his hips, sliding down along his body.

"Didn't you have some urgent documents to analyze?" he began, trying not to sound confrontational, but he failed. He sounded confrontational. "The ones you kept reminding me about every five minutes since we got here?"

Reid didn't have a sharp retort ready for that one; in fact, Bradley had hit the nail on the head. He did have a lot of urgent documents to go through, but for reasons unknown to him, he'd decided to engage in this pointless conversation instead. His silence only seemed to fuel the satisfaction on Bradley's face, which was broken only by the movement of the woman. Specifically, her rising from the desk.

"You could've just said we’re interrupting," she remarked, stretching one leg after the other, every movement fluid. "Especially if it's something important. Is it?"

"Well, actually, yes..."

"In that case, I suppose we're in the way. Shall we go, Agent Bradley?"

She must have read his last name off the badge pinned to her chest. Both Spencer and Bradley looked at her, but only one of them slowly cracked a smile. The other let out a sigh, pretending to feel relief, though deep down, he genuinely did—finally, he could focus on what he had wanted to from the start.

They both made their way toward the door. Unused to her quick pace, and still a bit surprised by the attention she had given him, the agent trailed after her like a lost puppy. As they crossed the threshold, she turned back to him over her shoulder, looking like a kid bragging about winning a bike race.

Spencer merely shook his head with pity, and when they both disappeared in the same direction, he scoffed.

He returned to his work.

After a while, he found himself thinking that perhaps he preferred their conversation to be within earshot, rather than out of it.

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diamond-rozie · 6 months ago

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Tim stepped cleanly inside the room, and carefully shut the door behind him after checking if anyone was in the hallway. “What are you-” Danny started confused. Tim was acting very unusually right now.

“I’m Red Robin.” He said.

Danny stared at him for a few seconds. Tim had expected him to be more shocked, Danny wasn’t like Damian and Bruce in the aspect of holding back his reactions. He watched Danny carefully and noticed that he wasn’t even surprised at all.

His shoulder shifted a little, and a look passed in his eyes. He was relieved. That didn’t make any sense unless, “You knew.”

It made an irrevocable amount of sense. The stupid excuses he didn’t question, the easy slide bys on things that didn’t add up. Tim had wondered why Danny never brought it up with any of them. He was always quick to call bullshit on things but conveniently never on their mission cover ups.

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, findling with the small screwdriver in his hand.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Tim asked. He felt a little ridiculous about it all now, “How long have you known?” Tim’s mind went back to the dining room argument from last night and he rolled through it in his head. “Wait, Jason knows you know, doesn’t he?” Tim blurted, “That why he- why didn’t I realize this sooner?”

“I mean I know you guys can’t just tell whoever you want. It’s a secret identity for a reason. You guys didn’t want me to know. So I acted like I didn’t.” Danny shrugged. “I figured it out when Dick and Bruce were in Amity, and yeah, Jason knows. He also knows I’m Phantom. Cass knows too- not the Phantom thing. Or maybe she does, I don't know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Tim balked. All the effort they put in to hide the proof before he came, and he knew the whole time. Wait, did he say- “You’re Phantom?” Tim practically yelled.

Danny blinked at him, “I thought you knew that.” He pointed the end of the screw driver at him, “Why were you guys so okay with him being in the cave then?”

“We thought he was Thomas Jr.” Tim threw his hands up, rethinking his entire career choice. “I mean, yeah he was in Amity with you, but we figured it was like a guardian ghost thing since the time Dick met him that one time when you got lost or something he was the one- holy shit, you were following them the whole time weren’t you.”

“You thought Thomas was Phantom?” Danny laughed, finding this ridiculous.

“Isn’t that how supernatural stuff works or something. Like, you guys are linked because you were switched with each other and because you were with the family he was supposed to be with so he turned into a protective spirit to, like, watch over you or something.”

Danny's look of appalment only deepened as Tim continued explaining. “Who told you that?”

“I mean we just kinda figured it out ourselves based on past experiences.”

“Past experience?”

“With supernatural stuff the right conclusion is always the most unexpected and slightly irrational one.”

Danny snorted at that. “That is a really bad rule of thumb.”

“Right, then explain how you’re the ghost Phantom when you’re also human and alive Danny.” Tim crossed his arms. He was trying really hard not to over analyze that right. Did that mean Danny was dead or that Phantom was alive? How could he be both? Well according to Schrödinger's theory- not now Tim. He should make a new file for this later and then he’d think about it. Alone. In his room where he could properly freak out over this.

“Touche.” Danny clearly thought this was funny so no need to put a damper on the mood. Especially after everything that already happened.

This information changed a lot of things. Tim would have to refer this back to the Fenton-Masters case. What about Damian? Did he know Danny was Phantom? Probably not, considering none of them had, apparently aside from Jason. It would be almost impossible for Tim to not tell him that since they were supposed to be working it together. Tim wasn’t sure how he would take the information. Not only that, but gave a new scope to the vultures that had attacked and the monster that had showed up from the pits.

Later. File. Many lists.

“Do you want to come to Mt. Justice?” Tim asked him.

“Like the museum?”

“Yes and no. It’s also the Young Justice base. It’s top secret and no ones supposed to know about it.”

“What! Then why are you telling me?”

“Do you wanna go or not?”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Definitely not.”

Danny raised a brow. “Then we can’t go?”

“It’s far but we can just take the jet. It’s like 30 minutes tops. We could take the zeta-tubes but then Bruce would find out you took the zeta-tubes and then we’d be fucked. Well, mostly me. But still.”

“Wouldn’t he find out we took the jet then?”

“He wouldn’t know you were on the jet. It’s not weird for me to be going there since it is my team.”

“What if we get in trouble?”

“We’ll only get in trouble if we get found out.” Tim shrugged, “Do you want to go or not?”

Danny considered it for a moment before a grin tipped his face. “Yeah.”

“Sweet.” Tim reached for his phone only not realizing he didn’t have it. “I’ll let them know we’ll be coming around. They’re all already there. Tell Alfred you’ll be going out with some friends and then come meet me at Drake Manor.”

Danny seemed to embrace the situation now, forgoing his earlier hesitance. “I’ll wrap up some stuff. I should do breakfast too so Alfred doesn’t think anything is up. I’ll give you a heads up before I’m out the door. I’ll take my bike.”

“Take the long way round since the Manor’s in the opposite direction of the city.”

Danny nodded. “What about you?” he asked.

“No one’s gonna ask if I go in costume.” Tim shrugged, “Speaking of costume…” Tim turned to where he knew the wardrobe to be, “Let me see your clothes.” He opened the double doors in the bathroom where the closest would be and blinked at the largely empty room. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” He asked. Danny looked confused by that, “Oh,” Tim realized, “You used a second closet. Smart. Is it in the lab?”

“No, Tim.” He said, pacing his words, “These are all my clothes.”

“Oh. Why?”

“This is a normal amount of clothes to own.”

“But it’s like barely covering a fourth of your closet. And that’s only because everything is so spread apart.”

“That's because the closest is the size of a literal barn. Why on Earth would I need that many clothes?”

“I thought Bruce gave you an allowance?”

“He did.”

“Is it not enough?”

Danny balked at him. “Did you ask to see my closet just to make fun of me?” He huffed.

“I’m not making fun, I’m concerned.” Tim said genuinely. Did Danny not feel comfortable asking for things? It must be because they were keeping so many secrets and he thought they didn’t trust him. This clearly ran deeper than Tim originally thought.

Danny shoved his hand in Tim’s face, pushing him back. “Can we get back to the point?”

“Right.”

--- later ---

“Give it back!”

“No, I had it first!

“Nu-uh. I just put it down for like two seconds when you grabbed it.”

“You were gone for the whole round.”

“Where’s the controller you had before?”

“It died.”

“There's a bunch of other ones in the drawer.”

“You can have one from there, then.”

“No! I want the one I had back.” Tim insisted.

“No.” Danny moved so he couldn’t reach it.

“That controller is player 1, so give it back.”

“Exactly why I’m not giving it back.”

“Why would you be player 1?”

Danny looked so smug at that, “If you recall, I’m actually older than you which gives me sovereign right over player 1.” He said pushing Tim away.

“That doesn’t even mean anything!”

“Ah, to be young and naive.”

“Fuck you.” Tim said, tackling him off the sofa.

“What on God’s green Earth is going on here?” Cass asked, returning from their small intermission for snacks.

Bart rushed up to join her. “Is Danny winning?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No you're not! Give it back.”

“Get off me.”

Kon was the last to come onto the site. “Guys.” He said seriously, “Superman’s coming. And there’s someone with him.”

Tim stopped trying to strangle Danny, sharing a look of panic with his team.

“So?” Danny asked, confused.

“Danny, you're not supposed to be here.” Tim hissed at him. “Shit. How do we hide you from Superman?”

“It was nice knowing you.” Kon said with a sarcastic smile.

“How far is he?” Cassie asked.

“He’ll be here in like two minutes.”

“I’ll hide under the couch, he probably won’t look under there.” Danny offered.

“He can hear your heartbeat.”

Danny smiled widely. “I got it covered.” He said, pulling himself into the small space.

Bart giggled in excitement.

“How-”

Kon gave a silent sign that Superman was here, sending a confused look towards the couch Danny had slid under. Tim’s phone buzzed with a notification.

Just then, “Konner?” Clark called from the Mission Room.

The team shared a silent look. They’d just have to trust Danny had this covered.

“We’re in here.” Bart called even though Clark would already know that.

Tim put up two fingers to silently ask Kon if there was someone else with him. He received an affirmative. This was a horrible day for prospective teammate introductions.

“Hey guys.” Clark smiled, then confused “Why are you sitting on the floor Red Robin?” He asked.

“I was checking something.” Tim said, picking up the controller Danny had been forced to abandon.

“Oh, okay.” He nodded, not questioning it further. “I’m glad all of you are already here.”

“Are we getting a mission?” Cassie asked.

“Sort of.” Clark said, excited. Then in Kryptonian, “ Come .” He said to someone behind him they couldn’t see. Tim couldn’t hear any footsteps. And he found out it was because the person Clark was introducing them to could fly. And Tim also found out that Clark had spoken in kryptonian because this new person was a kryptonian. One that Tim had never met before. “This is Kara. She’s my cousin. The entire situation isn’t all clear yet but as it stands we understand that her pod, while launched at the same time as mine, was caught in an asteroid belt and was only left free recently, when it landed near the Fortress of Solitude.” Clark turned to Kara and introduced them to her in Kryptonian and then added, “ Tim and Kon-el speak Kryptonian which is why I thought you would be more comfortable here instead of the Watch Tower. Though, Kon’s could use some work. ” He teased.

“Hey, my Kryptonian is fine.”

“Why don’t you try saying that in Kryptonian?”

“ My fine is Kryptonian .” Kon said confidently.

Clark laughed and Kara looked at Kon like he grew a second head.

“I don’t even speak Kryptonian and I could tell that didn’t sound right.” Cassie laughed.

Tim took his turn to introduce himself to the nervous and quite blonde. “ I’m Red Robin. ” He pointed to the symbol on his chest. “ It’s nice to meet you. ” He put out a hand for her to shake but Kara just stared at it. Maybe they don’t have hand shakes on Krypton. Since Clark had grown up on Earth he didn’t really know much about the customs of his home planet for them to have learned it beforehand.

“ Nice to meet you. I am Kara Zor-el, daughter of Captain Zor-El and the Lady Alura. ” Then she stuck out her hand like Tim had. When Tim took it to shake Kara seemed surprised by it.

“ You’ll be in good hands here, Kara. I’ll be back to check on you later but if you need anything Kon or any of the others can get a hold of me for you, okay ?” Clark said softly trying to gauge if she’d actually be okay here without him.

Kara started at Clark for a moment like she was processing what he’d said, “ Why will anyone need to hold you? ”

“Oh.” Clark pondered it, “ It’s an Earth phrase. It just means that they’ll send me a message or contact me if you feel like you want me to come back. ”

Kara took another pause to process and then, “ I see. ” And does a hand gesture that Tim didn’t understand. And neither did Clark. No one commented on it.

After Clark left the atmosphere of the room went stale. Danny was still under the couch and they weren’t sure how willing Kara would be to not tell Clark about it. But they couldn’t leave Kara. And Tim’s phone was buzzing with notifications that he did not want to check because he recognized the haptics of the health app he had. The one that had everyone, including Danny’s, vitals. Danny, who Tim was pretty sure had just stopped his heart for the entire duration of Clark being here. Which had been a very long duration.

Kara looked between them, confused. “ Is there something meant to be done? ”

“ How’s your english, Kara?” Tim asked.

“ Only a little . Kal-El said it will take time .”

“ Langage harding learn. ” Kon nodded. Kara lipped his words back to herself trying to make sense of it.

“What do we do about our stowaway?” Cass whispered to Tim. She didn’t speak Kryptnoian, but she understood enough to know what Tim had asked.

“I could dash him out. Maybe we could spend the day together at the mall and then we’ll be best friends and then he won’t want to hang with Tim anymore because he’d rather hang out with me because I’m so much more fun.” Bart said all in one breath, his words afterwards speeding up too fast for Tim to make any sense of.

“She’ll know something’s up. We need to test her loyalty.” Tim strategized while Kon attempted to keep Kara in conversation.

“How? And why haven't any of the supes been able to hear him yet?” Cassie asked.

Bart took a pause on his earlier ramblings to make Tim’s life more difficult. “Oh it’s because he’s not breathing. Isn’t that so cool.”

Cassie shot Tim an alarmed look. “He’s a meta.” Tim said off handedly, “Can we focus?”

“Are you aware that your brother might be suffocating to death? In fact, we may need to hide a corpse and I sure as hell would love to hear how you're going to explain that away at family dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry Danny’s fine.” Bart said flippantly. “Danny, if you can hear us, make the room one degree colder.”

Tim couldn’t feel anything but Kon and Kara did. Kara eyed the room confused about the change but fortunately she didn’t comment on it.

“So cool.” Bart whistled, lapping the room.

“Convinced yet?” Tim asked Cassie.

“He’s an ice meta how- you know what, I don’t want to know. So how are we going to test our warden?”

The lounge room was decorated to look like a regular living room, including hanging “family pictures” on the wall. Everyone on the wall was in costume, for security reasons, but they were actual nice pictures of the team and their mentors. Tim pulled out a batarang from his pocket, and played around with it for a while, talking aloud about random things. It only needed to sound like a real sentence since Kara couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway. Then the batarang “slipped” out of his hand landing right in one of the larger framed pictures. The impact was loud and the glass of the frame shattered and spilled on the floor.

Cassie didn’t have to fake her flinch in surprise at that, turning to Tim alarmed. Tim adding to the performance acted shocked. Kara and Kon obviously hadn’t missed the commotion and their conversation stopped. Kara looked at the destruction of the frame, analyzing Tim and Cassie’s reaction.

“Dude.” Bart turned to him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks, “We’re so dead.” Kara didn’t speak english, sure, but the dread in Bart’s voice was obvious enough.

“Why did you do that?” Cassie scolded, “That was Red Tornado's favorite.”

Tim held his head in his hands dramatically, then he let realization dawn on his features. Slowly he turned to face Kara. “ I’ll get in really big trouble if Kal-El or anyone finds out. I can hide it, but you won’t tell will you? ” He made himself sound really worried.

“ Won’t it be noticed? The image is large .” Kara asked. She was beginning to share their concern on her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she would keep her mouth shut about it.

“ Clean up can. ” Kon said in a reassuring tone. Kara looked at him sideways, clearly confused.

“ They don’t really come in here often so we can pass it off. But you can’t tell. ” Tim told her.

Kara looked like she was having a hard time understanding him as well. An easier time than with Kon for obvious reasons but still not an easy time. Tim couldn’t understand why since he had made sure their Kryptonian was in perfect condition. “ Pass it off? ” She echoed, confused.

Kara must not have understood the phrase.“ Pretend like it didn’t happen .” Tim explained.

She thought about it and nodded. “ An Earth phrase? ”

“ Yes. ”

Kara didn’t answer right away and Tim wasn’t sure if it was because she was still deciphering what he’d said or if she was thinking about telling. “ I will not tell Kal-El or his associates since no one was hurt and it was only a minor incident .” Cassie and Bart had already cleaned up most of the mess why Tim talked to Kara. Tim had made sure to hit the frame so only the glass would be shattered and the actual picture was mostly unharmed except for the small tear in the corner. That would be easy enough to cover up.

Kara's body language was stiff and she was watching everything very carefully. It wasn’t strange since she had been left with a group of strangers in a new environment and she didn’t speak the local language. She seemed around Tim’s age or maybe a little older. Kara was meant to land on Earth with a mission to watch and protect Clark. This implied that she was of a status and position to receive missions. This meant she would work by a set of rules and report to a supervisor. The supervisor was likely Clark who was most likely to take responsibility for her for a variety of reasons.

Cassie gave Tim a raised eyebrow to ask how it was going as she walked away to dispose of the glass shards.

It would be a gamble. A deadly one. But if Tim made it look like Danny being here wasn’t that big of a breach of the rules he could convince her to keep it to herself. He shared a look with Kon.

“ I’m really thankful, Kara. ” Tim says, smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts Cassie and Bart their half of the plan. “ We can show you around the rest of the base. Would you like to do that? ”

“ Okay .”

“ Room fun lounge after work. Play TV on games .” Kon said.

Kara stared at him.

“How about I do the talking?” Tim put a hand on Kon’s shoulder.

“Why? I’m doing so good.” Kon said genuinely. Tim doesn’t respond to that.

The tour lasted minutes and Tim made sure to bide their time well so Cassie, Bart and Danny could be fully settled in before they returned. It would take a while for Danny’s heart rate to return to normal, and it would be better that he was all there before they tried to pull this off.

Tim checked his phone when they were nearing the end of the tour. Cassie had texted him they were good on their end.

“ Let’s go back to meet the others. They don’t speak Kryptonian but we can translate for you so don’t worry. ” Tim said. Kara seemed nice, it was the circumstances that were a bit stressful. But that didn’t mean they should let her feel left out.

“ This is your team ?” Kara asked, following Tim back to the lounge room.

“ Yes we do missions together sometimes. When we’re not working we spend time at the base because we’re friends. ”

“ It is nice to have friends. ” Kara nodded.

“ Did you do missions with your friends on Krypton? ” Tim asked. Maybe he could gauge what her position had been to see how she would react.

“ Only practice. We did not graduate from training yet. ”

“ Going what’s there ?” Kon asked. Tim had no idea what he was saying.

“ What dialect does he speak? ” Kara asked Tim. “ I cannot understand it. ”

“ We learned the same Kryptonian, Kon just doesn’t practice. ” Tim laughed. Kon understood enough that he elbowed him. “ Are there dialects in Kryptonian? ”

“ Many. You and Kal-El speak very… proper. ” She said sheepishly. “ No one speaks that way where I am from. Only in important meetings with outsiders .” Then she paused sadly, “ Mother always said it was important to learn but I did not listen. ” Tim had figured Kara spoke so rigidly because she was nervous or shy. This explained why she was having such a hard time understanding them.

They reached the lounge to Cassie and Danny locked deeply in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Danny had pulled his hood back up and was wearing his cowl from earlier. He had picked one of the older models that covered most of his face until the end of his nose and past his cheekbones. Danny shot scissors at Cassie, beating her paper. Bart cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air and Cassie groaned in defeat. Danny cackled as he took the last cookie.

“Hey, D. When’d you get here?” Tim asked for the sole purpose of silently telling the others to not call Danny by his real name.

With a mouth full of cookie, “A while ago. Who’s this?” He asked, gesturing his head to Kara.

Tim made wide gestures and spoke clearly in english so Kara could pick up what he was saying. It would be important for her to learn. “This is Kara, she’s Superboy’s cousin.”

“I thought she was his aunt?” Cassie asked.

Danny didn’t look nervous, fortunately, and smiled easily at Kara. Then to Tim’s surprise, “ Nice to meet you. ” he said in perfect kryptonian.

“ He speaks as well. ” Kara commented.

“You can speak Kryptonian, too?” Kon asked.

“Duh.” Bart answered.

“Dead languages are my speciality.” Danny said pointedly. Bart giggled at that.

“ Should we build a hole by playing a game? ” Danny asked, moving on the couch to give everyone else more room.

“ Build a hole? ” Tim laughed, “What?”

Kara looked at Danny surprised, “ You know of that? ” She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

“It’s a phrase, basically like “break the ice’.” Danny answered, then for Bart and Cassie, “Do you guys know any games we can play?”

“ You speak very well .” Kara complimented excitedly, leaving Tim’s side to talk to Danny. “ Did you also learn? ” Meaning is he a native speaker.

“ Kind of? ” He laughed, “ You can speak more comfortably if you’d like. ” He gestures for her to sit.

Kara seems hesitant at first, but then she says something. It sounded Kryptonian but the accent was different to what Tim was used to and he could only make out some of it. To Kara’s delight and Tim’s further surprise Danny not only understood exactly what she’d said but even responded in the same way.

It takes a while for them to settle on a game to play given all the language barriers. Kara spoke in what Tim learned was Standard Kryptonian but would often switch to her local dialect when she didn’t know how to say things. Kon and Tim could only understand Standard, and in all honesty, between them Tim was the only one who could speak it. Bart and Cassie couldn’t speak at all.

They decided to play charades. It was awkward and hard at first, but they all got really into it by the third round. They kept the categories simple since Kara wouldn’t know any movies. Fortunately, she seemed to feel a lot more comfortable and talked a lot more, even if it was mostly just to Danny. There were times she would make an effort to say things in english. It was really broken but they all made sure to appreciate it and tried her best to understand.

“I’m hungry guys.” Cassie said after her turn to act out her word, plopping herself in her spot between Bart and Kon.

“Me too.” Bart agreed mournfully.

“You’re always hungry.”

“Should we order Pizza?” Tim asked, pulling out his phone.

“I want pineapples on mine!” Bart said.

“Ew. No.” Cass kicked him. “I’ll have my usual.” She told Tim.

“Like mushrooms and olives are any better.” Kon snickered.

“It’s better than pineapples.”

Kara looked between them curiously.

“Danny, ask Kara what she wants.” Tim instructed.

After hearing them talk for the last hour Tim had finally been able to pick on some of the words but the grammar of it still eluded him.

“ Everyone, something, something, food. ” Danny said.

Kara looked intrigued, “ What, something, eating, something. ”

“ Something, something, like, something. ” He paused thoughtfully, making a circle in the air presumably to explain what a pizza was. “Something… ” Then, he pulled Tim’s phone to face them and pointed to the picture of a pizza on the website. “ This .”

Kara looked hesitant, “ ...Some…thing? ”

Danny nodded encouragingly, “Something. Something, good.” He said.

Glancing back at the picture, Tim could see on her face that she’d made a decision but she didn’t say anything. “Okay.” She said in english with a nod. “Have.”

“Great!” Finishing it up, “Kon, Bart.” Tim signaled.

“Ugh. Why do we have to get it every time?” Kon complained, throwing a pillow at Tim.

“I’m not going because I was the one that paid for it.”

“I’m not going ‘casue I don’t want to.” Cassie said, kicking her foot onto the coffee table.

“But you were the one who said you wanted food.” Kon complained, already standing up.

“I could go.” Danny offered.

“You're funny. Absolutely not.” Tim shut down.

Kara looked at Danny curious, “ Saying, something, what? ”

“ Something, food, something, go. ”

In english, “...Kitch...en?” She pointed in the direction of it and spoke in Standard Kryptonian, “ Is it not there? ”

“ No. ” Tim shook his head, “ The store cooks it and we just have to give them money and take it from them .” He was careful not to throw in phrases she didn’t know.

Kara looked confused by the concept but accepted it.

“Wait until she finds out about Drive-Thrus.” Danny joked to Tim.

“I’m going to go check on the left-overs.” Cassie said heading to the kitchen.

Tim checked everyone's location on his phone. Danny’s was offline for obvious reasons, fortunately no one had freaked out about it yet. But he couldn’t be too sure. “I’m going to check on our smoke screen in the mission room.” Tim told Danny, “You’ll be okay here with her?”

“What if we get abducted by non-friendly aliens in the five minutes you’ll be gone?” Danny’s tone was serious but his face was mischief.

“I hope you do.” Tim scoffed, walking out.

---

“It’s just one slice, Red.” Danny tried to reach over his shoulder

“No.” Tim blocked his food with his body, “You have your own.”

“I just want to try!”

“No! Eat yours.”

“You let Kara have some!”

“That’s because I like Kara and I don’t like you.”

“But yours looks so much more better than mine.” Danny whined, still reaching.

“Lesson for next time then.”

“C’mon, you’re not even going to finish it.”

Everyone watched them like a sitcom while they got to enjoy their food without meddling siblings. “I will. Just so you can’t have any.” Tim shoved as much of the slice in his mouth as he physically could. He was actually already full.

“You're the worst.” Danny said, shoving Tim.

“And you're worse.” Tim countered, pushing him back.

Tim hadn’t pushed Danny very hard. Danny probably took harder hits during hockey practice. Tim had pushed him just hard enough that it forced Danny to take a step back to balance himself. Which was when he’d stepped on a wrapper Bart had left on the floor. Danny lost his balance and fell. But not before hitting his head hard on the metal fridge door behind him.

Cassie gasped in shock. Kon and Bart rushed over to check on him. Kara watched wide-eyed, not sure what to do.

Tim quickly stepped forward, “Hey, are you-” Next thing he knows there's a whole tube of ranch being squirted on his costume. His freshly washed costume.

Danny watches Tim’s face morph from concern to absolute disgust with a deep satisfaction and cackles like the villain he is.

“You are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.” Danny’s on his feet and Tim chased him with a packet of garlic sauce that came with the pizza.

Apparently feeling left out, Bart decided to dump his glass of juice all over Kon’s head.

“Dude.” Kon shouts, but he’s quick to retaliate.

“Missed me.” Bart teases using the speed force to dodge.

Cassie and Kara, the only civilized people here, sit and eat their pizzas at the island watching them.

“They’re so dumb.” Cassie says to Kara, exasperated.

Kara smiles following the action with her eyes. “ How fun .” She replies and they share a laugh even without understanding each other.

snipbit from this fic

#dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #batpham #dpxdc fics #regular boy: daniel wayne #danny and tim #tim drake #young justice #red robin #kon el #kara danvers #yjxdp

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petalsonmoon · 6 months ago

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to be loved and to be in love.

it's when tokoyami asks you about the little crow you keep hidden in your well vented dorm that you feel the heat that his arm exhale in the back of your chair.

now, the action itself its not a huge revelation to you nor does it take more than a few glances from your colleagues.

and you didn't need to look at him, you knew he was still talking to momo.

you had controlled the sentiment a bit by now so your heart wasn't picking up its speed as much as it used to but you were a hero in rising. you did notice that something was happening on the other part of the friendship.

well, katsuki knows you like him.

that was your resolution after the few reports you made to yourself when every action became too much this week. how can you come up with such a grand conclusion with only a week analysis, you ask.

when you like someone, you become too fucking aware of them.

the arm stayed there for the rest of the night. until momo gave us her good night and there was only kaminari and jirou talking at the end of the table. they weren't too far but so in their own world that if felt that way.

so, you lean back at the chair for the first time and his arm stayed there. it was so very there.

you take your fork steals an olive from his plate and eats it.

you were looking straight ahead but you could easily feel when finally you had his eyes attention on you.

"it's sunday,"

you had little control of came out of your mouth when you were with him. not in a sense you made a fool of yourself. you were just that comfortable with your thoughts being out of you when he was next to you. it was that easy.

he growled and looked ahead. in his language that meant "so?"

"you're supposed to be asleep in an hour if i'm correct."

no reaction from him.

sitting next to each other you could have access to the view below the table, you caught about 3 seconds of his shaking leg before it stopped.

alright then.

"you trained with kirishima today, didn't you?"

he grunts. "too easy."

"how long did you take?"

"a minute."

you look ahead and raise your eyebrows but they went down astonishingly fast. on purpose, of course. his eyes were on you again.

"the fuck you mean by that?" a bit raspy by his tone and not very loud. angry nonetheless. it made you bite a smile.

"i'm not sure i know what you're talking about."

"fucking watch me beat him in 40 seconds next time"

"oh! i'm sure you will." you smile.

"and murder you in the next 20."

you pout in response and he looks away. you bring the last olive of his plate to your mouth.

was he shaking his legs because he's anxious? not that he's not allowed to. you two were a bit close but not close enough for you to understand his afflictions.

you were only starting to learn how to read him. by the sidelines so he wouldn't know the reason behind the intention.

apparently you failed that part!

you wish you could help him though.

"is there a reason you're still up?" it came out as nonchalant as you wanted.

the clock on the wall dominated the silence for a few seconds before it happened. the hand on the back of your chair started to thread slightly to your back, so featherly and slow you could be imagining the feeling. until his fingertips reached the hem of your shirt.

you inhale and exhale. his fingers stopped and stayed. the skin to skin was barely there.

"is there anything else happening today?" you ask and it's kinda funny how both of you are looking to your empty plates.

he grunts again but with a chuckle leaking from it.

"fucking hope so."

you jolted for a millisecond when his finger started to gently move on the nape of your neck, then your body was completly at the mercy of that ligh movement.

"you'd expect a UA student from the hero course would have the balls to say how she feels"

you lost the grip in your heart and even though it was beating way faster than it was supposed to, you were still so very comfortable. because it was him.

"gave her a whole ass week... but apparently i overestimated the prick."

you turn your head to watch his profile. red eyes glistening.

"calling me out" you let out, a bit irritated you couldn’t contain the little smile on your face "when i caugh some anxious moviments under the table."

he turns to you and he was so close you were certain the clock stopped ticking.

"still doing it, aren't i?"

his mouth meets yours in a heartbeat. a kiss so angryly slow that made you lightheaded. he moves his tongue dominantly but when you got the chance to bite his underlip he growls deliciously into you and the hand on your neck rushes to your hair, deepening the kiss.

your hand flies to his neck, your fingers wanting to stay on his skin forever but when they make it to his blonde locks it feels like they were always meant to be there. you were drowning in him.

when he pulls back it takes probably 5 seconds for you to open your eyes. the red on his consumed by his pupils.

"is that why you let me eat the olives you leave for last this past week?"

"and your ass owns me for every one of them." his fingers were gently strocking your hair.

you nod and kiss the corner of his mouth. he closes his eyes and hums in response. you really hope he feels as safe with you as you feel with him.

"it's okay. i see it makes a difference when you’re taking a whole minute to defeat someone."

#i did not double checked this cause if i did i wouldn’t post it #english is not my first language i deeply apologize #bnha #bakugo #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia

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jesterkoops · 3 months ago

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It’s really funny to me to see people suddenly going all SHOCKED PIKACHU after this episode with the realisation that the show will have to address how Helena being complicit in Gemma’s.. whatever it is is going on down there has repercussion for Mark and Helly's (and Helena's) relationship. And saying this suddenly changes how they see Mark and Helly’s relationship and HELLY BAD! NO MORE HELLY FOR MARK! NO!

Really?? It took THIS episode for you to realise this was literally going to be THE major point of conflict for them?? I remember finishing the rewatch before this season began and saying this very thing to my friends. Why else would they even make MarkHelly a thing and reveal she was Helena in the very next episode, if that’s not precisely where this was going to go? This episode hasn��t really changed how I see Mark and Helly/Helena’s relationship at all, because for me it was a given all along this was bound to come up. It was literally THE thing that shot my interest in their dynamic through the roof, when before I was like "meh, another workplace romance between leads". There was literally nothing in this latest episode that changed how I see any of these dynamics. The specifics of whether Gemma was braindead, or alive, or cryogenically frozen, or what have you has no impact on the fact that Helena is to some degree complicit in all this (to what degree, and just how much she actually knows, is still TBD; she's still such a mystery - I have another post about this in the works).

And what baffles me is that some seem to think that the people who came up with THIS show couldn’t possibly find a way to develop this that hasn’t yet occurred to us. "Well, I can't see any other way this ends if not with Mark getting Gemma back, and Helena evil/sacrificing herself for Mark and Gemma/dead" (or something along those lines). Like, sure, that's the most logical conclusion and THAT is what intrigues me: what am I missing that these writers have up their sleeves? It baffles me that it took ONE episode for some to be willing to strip away the entire complexity of the show and the innies/outies dichotomy and the moral and empathy dilemma it is supposed to force upon us through Mark acting as a 'conduit' for the audience.

Pitting up the two relationships against each other as one being superior to the other trivialises innies and their feelings the same way Lumon does. You can't on one hand feel empathy for Gemma's multiple innies and consider their feelings as valid and the impact they have on Gemma and in the same breath dismiss innie Mark's and Helly's feelings as childish and unimportant.

Being able to dismiss innie Mark's feelings as unimportant or inferior to outie Mark's feelings is an easy solution to the struggle reintegration is supposed to present. Take away that struggle, and you remove what's narratively interesting about reintegration.

Along these lines, the last few days I realised that Gemma HAD to be alive for this to be interesting because her being actually dead gives Mark (and consequently the audience) an easy way out. If the whole point of reintegration involves Mark dealing with the fact that he merged a part of him that loves Gemma with a part of him that never did and loves someone else instead... well, if Gemma is actually gone, that doesn't pose much of a challenge for Mark, does it? If Gemma were gone, his predicament would be the same as any other widower who falls in love again. But if she's alive, he has to actually wrestle with the two parts of himself that pull him in two different directions and want two different lives.

And we circle back to point 2: the only way point 3 is narratively interesting is if innie Mark's feelings are just as strong and important and valid as outie Mark's feelings.

And, to a lesser extent, for his feelings to be as strong and important and valid, Helena CANNOT just be a straight up villain because then we would circle back to point 3; it would be the equivalent of Gemma being dead. It would strip the dilemma from Mark because it would be easy for him to dismiss his feelings for her/Helly.

I admit, this is a very very tricky situation to navigate for the writers to avoid falling into cliches and to wrap it up in a way that's original and satisfying. But it's ridiculous to be definitive about an endgame at this stage when there is still so much story to go through. You are literally jumping the gun and reaching conclusions while missing a ton of information and development still.

#severance #severance spoilers #mark s #mark scout #helly r #helena eagan #mark x helly #mark x helena #markhelly #markhelena

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f1tales · 6 months ago

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i beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker - mv1

that's that me espresso || part five

previous part || next part

pairing: max verstappen x ofc!piastri

summary: oscar’s older sister is a singer, who’s taylor swift’s opening act for the eras tour. she goes to a few races on her break. she meets max; who thinks about her every night now. much to oscar’s annoyance.

author's note: it's very dialogue heavy towards the end, but it's a videocall and idk how to write that any differently. i also don't really know where i'm going with this whole fic, but i'm having fun writing it. it's like a little break from other fics i'm working on. more serious ones, maybe? idk. hope you enoy x

face claim: sabrina carpenter

Ivy hurriedly got out of the car. She rushed towards Max, who was still standing in front of the building with his arms crossed over his chest. The expression on his face was hard to read.

"Max," Ivy breathed out in front of him. She tried to smile, but her face trembled as she stood in front of him.

The media had really put her through it with her relationships before. But she never cared before. She wouldn't let the media ruin what she was trying to build with Max. She couldn't let them do that.

"I know how cliché this sounds, but it's really not what it looks like!"

Max frowned as he looked from Ivy to Daniel. Daniel was standing just a few meters away from them, by the side of his car. Ready to jump in the car and speed off should the situation demand it.

"Can you please look at me?" Ivy grabbed Max's hands. She smiled, "I came to surprise you."

"Consider me surprised," he muttered.

Ivy looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Be like that. Don't hear me out then. Trust me, I have no problem getting back in Daniel's car and have him drive me straight back to Nice airport."

Ivy saw the way Max visibly deflated at those words. His arms dropped from the cross over his chest to the side of his body. He nodded, silently telling Ivy to continue. She looked around, they were still outside.

"First, we're going back to yours."

She turned on her heel to grab her suitcase from Daniel. She gave him a hug and thanked him for picking her up from the airport. She wheeled the suitcase behind her and dropped it in Max's hands before strutting towards his car.

Daniel laughed at the whole ordeal. It was a funny sight: Ivy, standing with her arms crossed next to the passenger side of Max's car and Max fumbling with his car keys to open the booth. Daniel waved at the pair when they finally drove off.

They drove in silence to Max's flat. They also rode the lift up in silence. Max opened the door for her, watching as she walked in. He trailed behind with her suitcase in hand.

Ivy sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her. She waited for Max to sit down next to her before she turned her body towards him.

"I don't know what you saw online, but I didn't fly all the way from Australia for you to just jump to conclusions about me and Daniel. I thought you knew me better than that. And if not me, at least Daniel."

Max stayed quiet as he looked down at his feet. She was right. He knew she was right. Yet, when he had seen those pictures online of Daniel and Ivy he couldn't help but jump to conclusions.

He released a long breath before looking at the gorgeous girl sitting next to him, "I'm sorry. I got so insecure when I saw you with Daniel. I know he's a lot better looking than I am and-,"

Before he knew it, Ivy had wrapped her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek with a smile on her face.

"Don't ever say that again, okay?" Ivy firmly shook her head. "It's you I want. Not Daniel, okay?"

Max nodded, "okay."

Ivy grinned, "now, I've come to meet your fur children. Where are they?"

The Dutchman laughed as he stood up. He motioned for Ivy to follow him so he could introduce her to his cats.

Later that evening, Ivy was sitting on Max's couch. She had just showered and had changed into one of his hoodies. One she'd been wearing she he tactically left it for her at Daniel's farm weeks ago. Max was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them.

She had her phone in her hand, Oscar's face filling the screen. "It was just a misunderstanding."

Oscar didn't seem convinced on the other end of the line, "you sure? I can ditch the MTC now and be there in three hours to kick his arse."

The older Piastri sibling rolled her eyes, "I'm older than you, remember? I think if anything, I should look after you."

It was now Oscar's turn to roll his eyes, "I'm always going to look after you. Especially after you know."

"I know."

Ivy gasped when she felt something jump up on the couch next to her. She turned her head to find one of Max's cats curling up to the side of her. She smiled as she started stroking the cat. She turned back to Oscar.

"Where are you going?"

Oscar looked rather smart for a quiet night in. Ivy watched him rummage around in his apartment. He appeared back in the screen, "just dinner with Lando," he mumbled as he put his watch on.

The singer grinned, "why you all dressed up for dinner with Lando?"

"Please, Vee," he groaned, "we're friends. And it's a fancy restaurant."

"Hm, the blush on your face says something different. And I've seen the heart eyes you make at him. The whole internet has."

Oscar cleared his throat, "right I think you of all people should know not to believe the internet." He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Anyway, I'm leaving now."

Ivy heard footsteps approaching, which must mean Max finished cooking. "Okay, love you. Say hi to Lily and Lando for me." She laughed as Oscar groaned again.

"Okay, bye. Love you."

Max sat down on the couch with Ivy. He handed her a bowl of pasta, keepig one for himself. "What was that about?"

The singer shook her head with a smile on her face, "I'll explain at some point." They ate in silence for a while with the TV playing in the background, the Dutch version of First Dates playing. Ivy turned to Max, "can I show you a song I wrote after dinner?"

The driver's eyes widened, "of course! I'd be honoured."

Ivy grinned, "it's called Espresso."

part six coming soon

taglist: @mastermindbaby @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @shelbyteller @anilovessadbooks

#divider by cafekitsune #f1 fic #f1tales #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen x ofc #max verstappen x reader

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aliwritex · 3 months ago

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DO I WANNA KNOW? pt2 fc43

summary: franco realizes he wants more.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: 18+, pinv, oral, fingering and everything, L word obv. a little bit of anxiety related erectile dysfunction i did not read this through very well

Franco was acting different, you knew that, all your friends knew too. The thing was that they knew why but wouldn’t tell you. You tried making your friend talk multiple times but she would budge, you were starting to think it was something bad. Maybe he wanted to end your little arrangement and didn’t know how to, maybe you had done something wrong or maybe he just wasn’t into you anymore.

You started to keep your distance, you didn’t want him to be forced to hang out with you and maybe if you eased out of your situationship then there wouldn’t have to be an actual conversation or ‘breakup’.

And as far as situationships go, you were driving each other insane. All your friends were watching closely, it was funny really. You both thought they didn’t know about you but they had found out the same night when you ended up sleeping in the guest room before he snuck out in the morning. The – not so – subtle questions you’d ask only gave them more insight of what you two had going on. Questions like “Is she seeing someone?” or “do you think he’s been acting weird?” were being thrown and discussed in a group chat without you two.

On one side Franco had just started to feel confident enough in your relationship to confess, tell you that he wanted more. But it was making him nervous. On the other side, you were completely misreading his nervousness as something else, like he wasn’t enjoying being with you. In your defense he had gone soft on you twice because of his overthinking.

“I know we talked about you coming over tomorrow but turns out I have plans” you lied as he came back from the bathroom.

“Oh? Okay.” he tried to understand but didn’t miss the weird way you brought it up “Can I still sleep over, though? Don’t wanna drive back home. Tired”

Franco left the next morning and you didn’t talk that weekend or the week after that. And the next time the group got together you said you couldn’t make it, you would be studying for a test – which was true – but that night Franco took the opportunity to talk to your friend.

“Tina, do you think she has been acting different lately?”

“Oh, god, you will drive each other insane.” she said, taking a sip of her drink “We know you’ve got something going on so please just tell me so I can help”

So there he was, sitting in a booth in the club boring Tina to death as he told her everything he deemed important about your relationship.

“Look,” she spoke when he finished, “from what I’ve gathered, she thinks you’re not into her anymore and to be fair I’m guessing you’re the guy that went soft on her twice.”

“She told you? I was- I don’t have to explain myself to you” he realized.

“Didn’t ask you to. Franco, the point is, I think she’s really into you and you should do something about it because she’s trying to push you away”

“How could she possibly think I’m not into her? I’ve been throwing myself at her for over a year!” he was genuinely surprised and couldn’t understand how you came to that conclusion.

“Then maybe keep doing it, okay? She says you’ve been acting different, I get it that you’re nervous about telling her but you can’t let that affect your performance, darling, apparently that’s all your relationship is based on”

“I hate you. Why would she tell you that?” he whined “She won’t really talk to me, she’s making excuses and avoiding my texts.” his explanation comes out as a sigh.

“Bother her a little more, show up to her house, she’ll give in eventually.” she shrugged, getting up from her seat.

Franco left the club earlier that night and texted you before getting in his car. “you still awake?”

You rolled your eyes at the text, yes you were still awake at one in the morning, but it was because you were busy. “i’m studying franco” “not a good time.”

He only read your text, didn’t say anything else because he was driving. Driving to your place but not without a quick stop to a 24 hour grocery store. He knew that if you had been deep into your studies to be up that late you deserved some good snacks and just as he was leaving he saw some mediocre flowers, they would have to do, so he picked a small colorful bouquet – he didn’t know your favorite color but it was surely amongst them.

He didn’t text or call cause you would tell him no, so he just showed up at your door and knocked. You knew immediately it was him.

“Fran, I said I’m bu-“ your mouth stopped moving when you saw him with a grocery bag and the flowers in his hand. Franco froze, he forgot to think of what to say. “I told you I was busy”

After a couple of seconds – that felt way too long for him – staring at you he finally spoke, “I thought you might be needing some rewards, for studying so hard” he lifted up the bag, showing it to you.

You stood in front of him, your head rested against the door, watching him smile a little when he realized you were wearing his shirt. “Hope you don’t mind”

“No, never. Guess if I forgot it wasn’t that important in the first place.” he paused for a second, still looking at you “I got you these” he lifted the flowers “figured the ones you had last time I was here would be dead by now. I realized I don’t know your favorite color, or what flowers you like, think I was too busy looking at something else other than your flowers. I guessed you had to like at least one flower or one color from this one.”

“Fran, what is this about?”

“I wante- Can I come in?” he asked nervously.

You moved out of the doorway to let him through, smiling to yourself as you realized you were completely wrong. He put the things down on the table by your door as you locked it and when you turned back your arms wrapped around his neck, as you kissed.

His hands came down to your waist and he was slightly surprised at your sudden action, but melted into the kiss. “Missed me?”

“A little” you confessed, pulling away from him and walking to your bedroom.

You heard him follow right behind you, reaching for your hand when you walked in. Your lips met again but this time his hands guide your legs and guide them to wrap around his hips as he walks to the bed. He placed you where he wanted, right in the middle with your back against the pillows, your legs naturally spreading for him to settle between. He knelt up for a second, grabbing the stuffed animals around you and throwing them on the floor. You rolled your eyes.

“You know I don’t like them here”

He smiled and bent down to kiss you. His hands sneaked up your hips to your waist, under your shirt. Yours ran around his neck, nails against the sensitive skin, knowing it would turn him on. His lips lowered to your jaw, making you let out a sigh, relaxing all your muscles after being tense in a desk all day. He let his hips meet yours, grinding slightly against yours as his mouth started working on your neck, sucking and kissing all the spots he knew. His hands then lowered to the band of your shorts and tugged them down till he had to pull away from you to slip them off your legs.

“You look good in my clothes, should leave them around here more often” he smiled, making you blush as he positioned himself between your legs, laying on your bed.

Your hand reached out to caress his cheek, he smiled against the skin of your thigh before kissing it. He started leaving open mouthed kisses all over, your thighs, your lower stomach and over your panties, making you shiver when you felt his lips brushing against your cunt, only your thin underwear separating you. But not for long, once he felt like he had teased you enough his fingers hooked on the sides of your panties and slowly dragged them down, then he was facing your bare cunt, wet and ready for him.

Franco licked his lips at the sight before sticking his tongue out to spread your lips apart. He moaned when your taste hit his tongue, he had missed it. Once he started he was unstoppable, licking into you till his tongue and lips were covered in your wetness. Your hands dropped to grab his head when he took your clit into his mouth. His fingers joined the combo, slowly making their way inside you before gently curling up, he was making a mess out of you. Moans started leaving your mouth as he worked on you. His free hand made its way inside your shirt, reaching up to palm your tit. Your back arched onto his touch immediately, making your hips shift slightly and his fingers reach the perfect spot inside you.

“Fran” you whined, grasping his hair harder.

He just fucked his fingers harder into you, making you see stars and clench around them, By that point he knew you were close, just a couple more thrusts right to your gspot and you’d be gone. You felt your walls tightening as he started sucking harder on your clit, your muscles tensing and your legs trying to close around his head till he pushed you over the edge, making you cum around his fingers. Franco kept working you through your orgasm, his movements slowing till they came to a stop. You were biting a smile back as he kissed your thighs and your stomach, making his way up your body.

Your lips met again in an intense kiss, as you reached down to unbutton his jeans. He chuckled against your lips at your desperateness but helped you kick them off and knelt up for a second just to pull off his shirt. When he bent over your body again you flipped over him, straddling his legs as he looked up at you, surprised. You took his lips back to yours, kissing down his face to his neck as your hand reached down to rub his cock through his underwear. As small as the touch was it made him sigh, almost moan.

“Guess you missed me too” you teased before pulling him out of his underwear.

It was only a few pumps of your hand before raspy and shaky moans were making their way past his lips, “please” he whined.

You took a condom from your nightstand, making quick work of getting it on him. His lips were parted and his brows were just as expressive as always, furrowed together as you guided his cock between your lips, sliding yourself back and forth onto him just to tease. A struggling moan left his lips as his hands dropped to your hips, lifting you up so you could guide him inside. You lost all composure when he slipped into you, it felt like those couple of days without him had been so much more and like he was fucking you for the first time again.

His hands started guiding your hips slowly, letting you both get used to the feeling as you pulled him into another kiss. Your hands rested on his chest as you started moving faster, your hips now moving in circles, making your clit rub against his skin. He could feel your thighs flexing under his hands as you moved but what he couldn’t take his eyes off of was your face when you pulled away. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, soft moans still escaping your throat, your eyes were screwed shut and your brows furrowed as you concentrated on making yourself feel good.

All it took for your high to wash over you was the gentle touch of his fingers to your clit and you were coming for him, clenching around his cock as your hips stilled on top of his. He waited a second before guiding you to move again. You knew he was close too, his body was giving you all the signs and his face was twisted in pleasure, just a little more and he would be there. You reached out for his face, making his eyes open after you kissed. Franco stared into your eyes for a second, eyes open as he came. He kissed your thumb that brushed his lip and spoke in a soft whisper “I’m in love with you”

You smiled, bending over to kiss him “I figured,” you said with a chuckle. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and pulled you down to kiss him, both breaking into smiles as your lips met, “and I’m in love with you too”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer till you were rolling on your sides, still connected and kissing. Franco only pulled out when you groaned into his mouth but he couldn’t bring himself to unwrap his arms around you.

“I bought ice cream, you know” he whispered after a while “do you think it’s melted yet?”

“I think you should go find out” you whispered back “you were the one that said I needed a reward for studying so hard.” he scoffed and nodded on your shoulder but when he tried to pull away you held him back “No, stay. I don’t mind melted ice cream, I actually like it better.”

#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto imagine #f1 x reader #a writes #franco colapinto

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bugslaststraw · 4 months ago

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See it's funny because in the games, and in any other assorted media before the movies came out, everyone low-key just hates Robotnik. And not even in the fun dedicated way like they all seem to think he's a bit of a failure. Which sounds weird if you don't know anything about Sonic (and certainly sounded weird to me three weeks ago when I was one of those people) but it really is just genuinely the case. I think?

Obviously his family all hate him. Movie-only fans will have an idea about this one; we've got good old Geralt Robotnik who didn't give a rats ass about him in favour of his long-dead cousin Maria, whom he wants revenge for. Geralt manipulated him and used him and said "oh Ivo you're no Maria" even though Ivo probably doesn't even know who the fuck Maria is in the movie universe and so on, et cetera. Geralt sucks just as much in the games and did approximately the same thing there.

What you may or may not know is that in one of the games, Eggman runs into a descendant of his from generations into the future. That guy's name is Eggman Nega, and he absolutely hates his ancestor. He thinks he's cramping his style? He's trying to go back in time and kill him to restore his reputation as far as I remember. Not to mention he has other family and cousins, none of whom give a flying fuck what happens to him. I distinctly remember someone who's name was Collin but who's nickname was Snively and who also worked with Eggman at some point, but hated him, and then later betrayed him. I can't remember a single family member of Eggman's that actually seemed to like or even tolerate him.

He's had a lot of henchpeople too. Most of them were robots. A lot of them, like Omega, and Gamma, and Sage to an extent (although she was more like a robot daughter he built for himself) betrayed him and joined the good guys too (Sage is another outlier, she isn't exactly switching over I mean she definitely likes him but she definitely isn't loyal either so.??) I mean, Eggman isn't even surprised by the fourth time. Smaller minions like Orbot (and Cubot? another outlier) and their predecessors weren't able to betray Eggman, but definitely would've if they could've because they all disliked him because he's allegedly a shit boss. (Who says he isn't. He's evil after all.)

He "contracts" a lot of spies and stuff too. Animal characters. They all hate him as well, but he tends to hate them in return, so at least those are entirely fair game.

Not to mention all the villains he's conveniently happened to need the same thing as at the start of the game, but become inconvenient to towards the end, so they betray him as quickly as possible to get ready for their final boss fight with Sonic towards the conclusion of the story. There's more of those than I can count or care to remember. He meets his alternative universe self once and they hate each other. There's even a moment in I think the comics where Eggman loses all his memories and temporarily becomes nice, and hangs out in a village and builds things for the furry people who live there. He makes a wooden puppet style robot that also becomes like a daughter to him. She's good at engineering, just like him. Of course when he gets his memories back and becomes evil again she leaves as quickly as possible and later helps Sonic & co. She's very resentful about it all, I've heard.

None of that is surprising, of course. Eggman is an evil villain to the heroes and a loser to the villains. It's funny! It's a joke. They need to introduce scarier villains in the games to ramp up tension but they can't exactly just drop Sonic's nemesis down a hole somewhere, being as iconic as he is... So he sticks around. But as a joke, rather than an actual threat. And it's a little sad, yeah. But he deserves it! He's trying to create some sort of totalitarian egg-state and he bullies Sonic for having friends, for Christ's sake. Why should anyone want to stay loyal to a guy like that- and why should anyone do it at all? Joining the heroes is the cool thing to do! Shadow does it, Knuckles does it, Omega kinda sorta does it, Sage is toeing the damn line from what I've heard, it's...

Okay, it's kind of a lot? I mean I understand having nobody that's a good guy like the villain, but like... Not even his damn henchpeople robots? In a lot of the animated shows and comics he keeps building robot wives for himself that are explicitly created just to like him, by him. That or he's into someone who's into one of the animals, or similar. I mean, it's that bad. And it's like... Nobody? Not even once in like thirty years did anyone come up with the idea to give Eggman?? This behemoth among famous pop culture characters? A loyal henchman?

And- well, okay, nowadays this isn't true anymore. I'm sure we all know why. And that's kind of fun; in 2020, Doctor Robotnik gained his first and only loyal henchperson. Great! But...

Jeff Fowler is a Sonic fan, isn't he. Would he know..?

Would anyone involved in making the movies know that Eggman famously... Doesn't have any friends? That nobody seems to like him? That he's apparently infinitely betrayable? Do they know? Do they know? Is that why the third movie is written like that? Is it not just a character complex pulled out of someone's- I mean, when movie Eggman says that there's only ever been one person who actually liked him and one person who actually cared about him... He's quite literally right, isn't he. As in... Since 1991... Like 34 years since conception as a handful of red pixels in the hottest new platformer game there's actually, literally only been one character..? ooh I think I need to lie down for a bit

#someone come tell me im wrong.#please.#sonic #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie universe #dr robotnik #stobotnik #yeah that counts why not #oh agent stone. you absolute enigma.#not to mention.#stone as a character is an accident that wasn't in the script as we know him and was lowk a result of the actors fucking around..#im ill i think.#long post

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skhv67 · 3 months ago

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rivals to lovers – dae-ho x fem!reader

a/n: its high key one-sided because dae-ho is a sweetheart. fluff, tiniest bit of angst, smut. (PLEASE ONLY +18)

tw: written at 6am 😔🤙 probably ooc

wc: 2.364

SUMMARY: you and dae-ho are academic rivals… of at least that’s what you thought.

• You two have known each other since the first year of university. You couldn’t forget because the very first day of college he corrected you when you were answering your teacher’s question.

• You glared at him with a sour expression, but he was just looking at you with a soft smile and he even nodded at you as if he had done you a favor.

• Despite literally nobody else caring about this interaction, it didn’t leave your mind. In fact, from that moment you’d hyperfocus every time he’d speak up in class.

• Poor thing will probably think you’re looking at him with good intentions, that when you avoided eye contact or went quiet around him was because he made you nervous.

• You actually thought his interventions were pretentious and the little smiles he flashed at you when he ‘helped you out’ were just a subtle way to mock you without looking like a twat.

• When you two were paired during the third year to do the most important project of your sociology class you wanted to end it all there and then.

• The first few times you had to hang out outside college were awkward. You were defensive when he brought up -seemingly- better points than you and you didn’t reply to any of his attempts at being friendly and funny.

• All he got from you were sighs, frowns and a cold shoulder, which confused him because until then he just thought you were just shy.

• He had to ask his older sisters for advice.

• BONK! This woman hates you, you really thought she was into you?

• What a bummer.

• The next times you had to hang out were a bit more awkward, because he was trying even HARDER to make you stop disliking him. Spoiler: it was doing the opposite.

• You weren’t blind to the way every girl in your year swooned over him. He was charming and attractive, he got good grades, he was also helpful and kind… But you couldn’t help but think it was all disingenuous. His help felt like a knife, like he was poking at your insecurities just to feel superior when he lent you a hand.

• The day he was trying to schedule a day for you two to meet up to finish up the project you were especially sensitive and unfortunately one of his jokes to ease the nerves he felt around you didn’t land as he was hoping to.

• ‘’Can you leave me the fuck alone? I’m not interested in being your friend, I can’t wait for this to be over to not have to talk to you anymore!’’

• Ouch.

• After that he only sent you a message with the time and the café you were going to meet to finish the project. No stickers, no emojis nor smiley faces. You wanted to celebrate your triumph but the way your heart started racing nervously confused you.

• The days until the meet up were weird, he wouldn’t attempt to talk to you in class, if he had to interact with you it was brief and distant, and he looked away if your eyes ever connected.

• Your mind was screaming with pride that you were right all along, and all his kindness was just a cover up. This newfound coldness was how he truly was once you called on his bullshit.

• Your heart, however, felt quite the opposite. You were fighting for your life to not text him a polite apology for the embarrassing outburst you had.

• The day came and when you arrive at the café you notice him barely sparing you a glance before looking back down at his laptop.

• The meet up was shorter than usual. And awkward.

• The silence he usually filled with corny jokes felt heavy and you were too embarrassed to admit to yourself that you kind of missed seeing his smile.

• As you finished the conclusion, he thanked you politely for your work and didn’t waste any time getting ready to leave.

• Despite your deepest need to say something, you took all your things and left the café after him.

• Or attempted.

• You let the heaviest sigh seeing the rain pouring in front of your umbrella-less self. You contemplate texting any of your siblings to come get you instead of doing the ten-minute long walk to the bus stop without even a hood to protect yourself.

• Not too long passes until you notice a figure stopping in front of you.

• Now you truly wanted to end it all.

• Dae-ho looks at you with hesitance, not too confident in offering you his umbrella to shield you from the rain.

• ‘’Where’s your car?’’ he subtly looked at your trembling hands, knuckles red from the cold.

• ‘’I’m taking the bus’’ you whispered.

• Yeah, you’re crazy if you think this man is gonna let you walk to the bus stop, let alone wait in the cold until the bus arrives.

• He nodded towards the parking lot silently indicating you to come with him.

• Well, you also don’t want to die from hypothermia, so what other choice do you have.

• Squishing yourself next to him to fit under his umbrella, you felt the warmth of his body and his perfume overwhelm your senses. Was he ever this annoyingly attractive or were you losing your mind?

• If the walk under his umbrella was bad the car ride was even WORSE.

• The silence was so heavy and uncomfortable, he looked at you from the corner of his eye to check if you were in the mood to hear him talk. Much to his surprise he saw your tense form clenching your fists and looking in front of you in an almost robotic way.

• You noticed him looking at you, because naturally he wasn't as subtle has he thought he was.

• "Should I check your pulse? You're scaring me"

• You blinked at him and then let out a little giggle.

• Okay now HE was tripping because why did his heart skip a beat at the sound. He even dared to stare at you (for more than three seconds, a record that week) and he felt his face heat up at the sight of your little smile. Dae-ho never realized that he had never seen your smile before. You had never laughed at anything he's said no matter how hard he had tried and you hadn't granted him the pleasure to see what he confirmed just then to be the most beautiful smile he had ever laid his eyes on.

• The tension he had been keeping in all week finally left his body and he kept making light jokes testing the waters. Once he saw you were at ease he let his personality shine again.

• The ride to your house was painfully short, and it pained you to admit that you could see why all your classmates would die to get a chance with him.

• It was hard to admit that maybe you were wrong and he had always been as sweet as he seemed.

• The following week he's literally glued to you.

• You made the decision of laughing at something he said once and now this man is in love with you, congratulations.

• He doesn't even try to hide his excitement everytime he sees you and as time passes he even teases the idea of going on a date. You're also lucky enough to hear some of his corny pick up lines.

• You two go to a café date (well it wasn't officially a date, but it was in his mind).

• There he tells you about his family. Him growing up with four older sisters made everything make sense to you and your heart broke when he said was disappointed that he decided being a nurse instead of studying law or medicine.

• You also tell him about you aspirations and your passion for the field and he's looking at you enthralled hanging on every word that came out of your lips.

• Talking about that, at some point while you're complaining about thing #130 today he finds himself lost in you lips. He traces the shape with his eyes and imagines parting them with his tongue He wonders about the taste of your lip balm and if they're as soft as they look right now.

• You'd think he'd be a bit more confident being caught doing this considering he was being quite obvious about it but the second he sees you looking at him he panics like crazy.

• You laugh it off and as the gentleman he is he gets you home safe and sound.

• That summer he decides he's going to officially make a move.

• (he doesn't)

• Summer made you inseparable and you couldn't understand how many years you've wasted hating him undeservingly.

• This time you were both hanging out in your room. You two had made a habit out of watching a movie once a week and would play rock, papers, scissor to see who would host and pay for the take out.

• Tonight you had lost and unfortunately for you he got to choose the film as well.

• The only good part of this was seeing him being an absolute nerd about it when you tried to argue about the plot holes of the movie.

• He was passionately exposing his points for you and you couldn't hear a single thing he was saying, too busy getting slowly closer to him.

• He had been so busy trying to prove his point that he doesn't notice your pretty eyes right in front of him and your noses practically brushing.

• It wasn't until he felt your hot breath against your lips that he came back down to reality. He froze in his seat and looked at you wide eyed.

• For a moment you think you might've even misunderstood every single interaction you two have had until now so you were about to turn away until he finally decided to react and grabbed your arm.

• The grip was firm but gentle, letting you know that you weren't getting away from him anytime soon. He looked at you doe eyed and used his free hand to bring you closer to him making you straddle him.

• "Can you fucking kiss me already?"

• He wastes no time connecting your lips and he lets out a breath he had been holding for what felt like ages.

• He finally got to slide his tongue against your bottom lip, savoring a slight taste of cherry. He smiled into the kiss, finally confirming his suspicions.

• A whine left his lips when you yanked his hair back roughly to get better access to his neck, to which he did not add any resistance.

• It only takes a few wet kisses down the column of his throat and a breathy "pretty boy" for him to get hard underneath you.

• Your jaw clenches when he starts rocking your hips back and forth over his hard on to relieve himself while he looked at you almost sorry to be manhandling you like that.

• As much as you enjoy him taking the initiative, you quickly take over and start grinding the bulge on his pants, feeling yourself pulsing against your panties at the friction.

• His needy eyes look at the scene before him taking in all the noises that came out of your mouth.

• A shaky breath leaves his soft lips when you sink your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

• "Please"

• A smug smile creeps into your face when he finally gave you the sign you've been waiting for.

• Hurriedly you both take off each other's clothes while still placing messy kisses wherever you could.

• He looked down at your pussy with a nasty look of hunger you didn't expect of him and you knew then that if you hadn't stopped him there he would've placed you in your desk and devoured you whole in a second.

• "Another time, please, I need you" you beg in his ear before gently biting his earlobe.

• He nods profusely as he started stroking his flushed length in his hand to spread the slick of his tip along his dick.

• He holds you over him and drops you slowly on his length, chest heaving and long locks sticking to his face, framing it so perfectly.

• You clench around him as you reach the base and he mumbles a soft "fuck" under his breath. You press a needy kiss against his lips and nibble at his bottom lip.

• He starts sinking you down his dick with an indescribable urge, and you quickly start riding him as fast as your stamina let you.

• Even if you get tired don't worry because this man is already holding your hips and meeting you halfway.

• Your moans start turning into cries and his pace speeds up as soon as he realizes you're close.

• "C'mon, come for me baby" he grunted against your lips.

• With that you start trembling against his thighs and let go. You keep riding him through your climax and he soon enough comes too holding you impossibly closer to him.

• He held you in his hands while you came down from your high and placed you gently in your bed to proceed cleaning you up.

• Your face when you see both of you through the mirror (and the disgusted little "sticky" you mumbled at the sight of your glistening skin) convinced him to take you both to take a bath instead.

• "Hope this doesn't make you think I like you or something though" you looked at him through your lashes with a smirk on your reddened lips.

• "Sure" he laughed it off.

#dae ho #dae ho x reader #squid game #squid game oneshot #squid game x reader #dae ho headcanons #dae-ho x reader #dae-ho #kang dae-ho #kang dae-ho x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 1 year ago

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Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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littlexdeaths · 6 months ago

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eddie munson x fem reader

warnings: mostly fluff but all my works are 18+, established relationship, fear of flying, a very dramatic nose bleed and eddie being an adorable but horny mf

a/n: i recently started rewatching supernatural again, and in doing so i came to the conclusion that dean and eddie are very similar. so this is a little something that’s loosely based off a scene in season 1, episode 4: phantom traveler. enjoy xx.

“are you seriously humming enter sandman right now?” you ask, amusement creeping into your voice as you glance over beside you.

only to see your boyfriend. with his cheeks flushed, leg bouncing erratically and ringed fingers gripping tightly onto the armrest nestled between you.

when you originally brought up the idea to book a flight to visit your folks for the holidays, instead of making the almost 10 hour trek to good ole’ minnesota, eddie had seemed all for it.

he encouraged it actually.

making some joke about how his “decrepit, aching twenty-six year old body” couldn’t handle another 10 hour drive.

however, the closer the trip loomed, the more reluctant eddie became. and he tried every which way to get you to cancel the flight and make the dreaded drive instead. but that was an argument he wasn’t going to win.

it wasn’t until the plane began to ascend into the air that the reason for his sudden reluctance became blatantly obvious.

eddie munson was scared, no scratch that—petrified of flying.

and try as you may, you just found that new tidbit to be even more endearing.

eddie gives you a sideways glare as you attempt to hide your grin. and really it shouldn’t be this funny. but maybe your lack of sleep from the early morning drive to the airport is finally beginning to weigh on you and soon the delirious giggles will start to kick in.

“yes, it calms me,” he huffs, gaze tearing away from you to glance out the small window of the plane.

“well you don’t look very calm to me.”

you rest a hand on his bouncing knee, just as another round of turbulence rocks through the cabin. and your amusement quickly delves into concern as he grips your arm to pull you closer into his side.

“okay—that cannot be normal!” he nearly whines, leaning his head back against the seat.

“baby, it’s just a little turbulence. you know you’re more likely to die in a car accident than on an airplane, right?”

while he appreciates your attempt to ease his mind a bit, it’s seriously not working.

“nice try, but i’ve seen final destination, sweetheart. i know how this shit ends.”

and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatics.

soon his humming starts back up, becoming a lot louder. and earning him a solid kick in the back from the teenager seated in the row behind you. the kick seems to be perfectly timed however. as the force of it and another jostle of the plane has his body flying forward, his nose smashing directly into the seat in front of him.

his pained groan has your temper flaring, ready to whip your head around and give that shit head kid a piece of your mind. but you freeze when you notice the way he’s cradling his nose. your gaze following the drops of crimson that have dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt.

“shit, eddie you’re bleeding.”

he makes a noise in confirmation, but before he can utter some sarcastic remark you have unbuckled both of your seatbelts and hauled him to his feet.

the flashing seatbelt sign be damned.

a flight attendant tries to stop you on your way down the aisle toward the bathroom, but you’re having none of it.

“miss, you both need to return to your—”

and if looks could kill, this whole plane would come crashing down.

“either you let me through so i can help clean him up, or he makes a mess of your aircraft. your choice.”

while you can tell she wants to argue, seeing the blood beginning to seep through the space between his fingers has her moving aside to let you pass.

“christ, sweetheart.” eddie groans when you carefully shove him inside the small bathroom and squeeze in behind him.

“sit, now.” you order.

he does as instructed, spreading his legs so you can slip in between them. you grab a wad of the practically sheer toilet paper, running a corner of it beneath the stream of water.

“keep the bridge of your nose pinched, it’ll help stop the bleeding.”

and when you turn back toward him, your brows pull together in confusion. his lips are stretched in a toothy grin, any trace of his anxiety now forgotten.

at least for the moment.

you begin to gently dab at the drying blood on his upper lip, thankful that most of the gushing had ceased for the time being. and eddie winces slightly once you start to clean around his nose.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, having felt his burning gaze from the moment he sat down.

“you’re just…” he trails off, slipping his fingers through the loop of your jeans to tug you closer—if that were even possible. “really fuckin’ sexy when you’re bossy.”

and a subtle glance down has you huffing out a laugh of disbelief.

“eddie, do you seriously have a boner right now?”

and he just grins wider.

“guilty as charged.”

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #[ the munson files: blurb ]

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calitears · 6 months ago

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Guitar Hero

“well my boyfriend’s in a band…

…he plays guitar while i sing lou reed”

Guitarist!Megumi Fushiguro x FEM!Reader

9.32 k words (oopsies)

Summary: Megumi Fushiguro finds himself at the local arcade a few hours before his band's show. However what was supposed to be just a one time game of guitar hero with a stranger might develop into something more.

warnings/notes ~ alcohol consumption/implied sexual themes/fluff/cursing/no directly written smut but implied/might be corny in sum parts but i promise it’s cutesy!

optional playlist: 🎧 (listen in any order you’d like, it just has the songs refrenced and a few extra!!)

{non-curse au}

masterlist

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

His hands were gradually getting colder as the soft thumping of his fingers against his chilled phone screen slowed, looking over the latest message sent in his band’s group chat. He could only find himself able to sigh at yet another schedule change, having their set pushed back another hour.

He could have chosen to head back to meet with his bandmates, they were all just piled up near the backstage entrance anyway, and it’s not like he didn't enjoy watching other bands play. Yet as he shut off his phone, the tinted blue light that illuminated his face faded, only leaving the vibrant colors of the arcade in front to cast different shades of neon lights over him. He looked up, the three fourths of his face showing that was left uncovered by his scarf the most vibrant under the iridescent lights. With a sigh he stood up, and walked the few feet of distance between the previous bench he sat on and the glass doors of the front arcade entrance.

Megumi would never admit it, but it was in fact the nerves that pushed him to avoid heading directly to the concert area. It was far from his first time performing in front of a public, however this was the largest crowd they’d gathered, and he’d be trying something new tonight. He wasn't doubtful of his skills, he had been playing guitar since elementary, it would be stupid of him to feel unprepared. But insecurity came at strange times for him, at least that’s what he thought to himself. It wasn't necessarily rare for people to feel nervous before performing, and still the world would have to end first before Megumi would ever admit out loud that he was growing anxious.

He wandered around the arcade for a bit, taking a glance at the variety of games. He’d concluded it was always a hit or miss with arcades nowadays, they’d either be packed with an assortment of machines, or have a few lonely boring games, whose only purpose would be to continue making whoever was behind the establishment a quick buck. In this case, he would consider himself lucky. As he looked around he was met with a few arcade classics, like the variations of ball rolling games, mock “gambling” machines (as he’d refer to them in his head, he found it funny), air hockey, and whatever versions of racing games were available. The place itself wasn’t packed, but did seem to have a decent clientele. What really made him come to the conclusion that this place was on the higher end of his arcade spectrum would be the games such as DDR, an actual vintage pacman game, Street fighter, Tetris, and the one that really caught his eye, Guitar Hero.

It brought back memories of his earlier elementary days and early middle school, when instead of going home he’d wander into some corner store establishment with Tsumiki that existed right before reaching their street. They’d grab some snacks, Tsumiki would glance around at the magazines, and he’d walk over to what looked to be an old large storage closet, turned into a makeshift ‘arcade’ (if you could call it that). When Gojo finally took them in a year later, he’d join them in their afterschool stop. When he saw a pattern of Megumi always picking up that plastic guitar to entertain himself, he made sure to make a mental note of that.

That year, Megumi found his first ever birthday present from Gojo to be an acoustic guitar, poorly wrapped in some shiny candy cane pattern wrapping paper. After that, the stop on the way home became shorter.

Could be a good form of practice, he excused, and with one more second of contemplation, he gave in and went over to some machine to buy himself tokens. Classic. Mindlessly walking over and reaching for the plastic guitar, he was getting ready to play solo, that is until he saw the ‘player 2’ control guitar be picked up out of the corner of his eye.

“Would you mind if I played?”

Would he mind? He processed the words, as if they were waking him up from a nap. In truth he hadn’t really been all there anyway.

“That’s fine…”

He observed the person next to him, watching as she flashed him a small smile then turned her attention to the screen. She was pretty, he could say that much.

“What song?”

He blinked, he knew what song he wanted after he had seen the machine had already had some customes added. So why was he just staring at her? He’d seen pretty girls, boys, people before, so why was he staring like some dumb dog right now? Well truth be told, it had nothing to do with her looks, just the fact that she was wearing one of his band’s cheap shirts. He thought they sold thrown away them at their last show. Unless she had been there. Was she a fan-

“Hey?”

Oh god he was really out of it tonight.

“Today… the Smashing Pumpkins.” he mumbled. She just smiled and looked back at the game, ready whenever he was. He needed to get it together. Turning back to the screen himself, he pressed a few buttons on the controller, and after getting through the start menu, he heard music play through the, surprisingly, decent quality speakers.

The sound of clacking from pressing down on the plastic keys kept going the longer the song went on, and it was the last vibrant memory he had that night, before they slowly quieted down in his mind and transitioned to the sound of sheets shuffling next to him. Megumi glanced over, and saw the same girl from before, except this time instead of being slightly exhausted after a game of Guitar Hero, it had been a much more intense activity.

How the hell did he get here?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“You’re… really good…” you had said while placing the guitar back in its holder. You never thought an arcade game would ever work you out. Then again, it had been a few rounds with this handsome stranger. Megumi copied your actions, not looking at you again yet, but nodded. “Thanks… lots of practice.”

“Yeah no, I can tell. You play right? Like… real guitar?”

Oh he played, but were you just acting dumb, or did you actually not recognize him?

“Yeah, in a band.” To that you just hummed in response, before continuing, wanting to keep the conversation flowing. “Same one Nobara used to be in, right?”

Nobara? You know Nobara? That makes sense, and the shirt… Megumi ran through his thoughts, searching in his collection of memories if he had ever heard the girl mention anything about you.

“Yeah, that band… is that why you’re wearing the shirt?”

“Oh- oh yeah… I went with her to go watch your guys’ last show, said she still wanted to cheer you guys on.” Megumi listened, glancing over to meet your eyes again. “Yeah, glad she could put that much effort in after ditching us.”

It was supposed to be sarcastic, an attempt at humor. Yet you still had to examine his face, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. There was a few seconds of awkward silence, before you choose to try and just go along with him, sharing a slight polite smile. Megumi noticed, yet he knew it wasn’t in response to his comment. You were just being nice. He really needed to work on his execution of things.

“...So you recognized me?” he questioned, hoping to brush over his last failed attempt at a joke.

“Well yeah, I mean not at first, but you seemed familiar... Originally I just assumed you were someone I had met at a show before or something.” He studied your way of talking, the expression you made, looking at you almost fascinated.

Don’t take it the wrong way though, that glimpse in his eye he gives to anyone he’s curious about, it’s just his nature. He focuses on the details of your words, committing any piece of conversation you shared with him to his memory, again, not something unique to you, just part of having a good memory. Or at least he told himself that when he realized he had been almost captivated by you.

And yet he found himself walking backstage with you.

After your encounter in the arcade, Megumi found out you were heading to the same show. He figured out you had basically been there all day, watching any band that caught your interest. That is, until you needed a break from the constant energetic and emotional atmosphere rock concerts brought. You had ended up leaving and getting something to eat, going to the arcade after to waste more time.

He got that out of you while sharing nothing about himself in return, other than the fact he played guitar and used to do back up vocals. Now he was stuck basically being the new frontman, contrary to his own belief that he was not marketable as one.

He had the looks, he knew he wasn't ugly. His singing and playing were more than fine, he would end up as one of the best if he continued playing with this much emotion (the same emotion he seemed to lack in literally anything else), and yet he wasn’t social off or on stage. He wasn’t a performer, he told himself. He could write, he could create art, but the last thing he ever thought himself possible of would be executing it in the way that would capture a crowd. His voice had emotion, his actions filled with meaning and an actual want to be there, but he couldn’t get himself to be anything even close to extravagant. Not like Nobara used to anyway.

“She was… definitely something, it’s like she was made to perform, which is why I totally understand why she chose to take up this acting gig… but I think you’re being too hard on yourself too.”

What. What were you saying? You were responding to his thoughts? No. Megumi blinked, realizing he actually had been talking to you. He had ended up sharing his own insecurities with you. The reason he had been so anxious for this show. He should shut himself up now before he slips up even more, but the truth is, he couldn’t find himself to care.

“You actually think I could take on being the frontman?” He continued walking by your side. At this point you both were back in the venue area, now just wandering around before the next set of shows started, the one including his band.

“Yeah, just loosen up a bit… but if you really don’t wanna be the face of it, why not let Itadori or Maki takeover?”

“Neither of them sing, god especially not Itadori.” You laughed at that, and it made him feel redemption from his earlier failed try at humor. “Why not get a new member then?” He thought about it, letting out a quiet hum in response. “I don’t wanna scout around for one… energetic people like that don’t usually stick to me, if anything I got the chance to even be in this band because Maki dragged me in…”

“You’re really crushing on yourself dude, have some faith in yourself!”

Megumi watched you smile, and you in return watched his dark blue eyes travel over your face.

“You’ve seen me play then, be honest and sincerely tell me you think I could pull through.”

You only blinked at him in response, racking your brain for memory of his previous performance. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as bold as Nobara, but oh he was talented. More than any other guitar player you’d seen that night. His vocals were nothing short of impressive either, you wanted him to know that-

“And I’m not a girl.” You were caught off guard by his statement. He’s worried about… not being a girl? But you couldn’t see the relation between those two at all. Before you could scavenge your mind for another explanation, Megumi went ahead and answered your confusion. “People were excited to see Nobara’s image. She was a girl leading a noisy rock band, she was spontaneous and out there, if I was the band’s image it wouldn’t have the same effect, we’d just be like almost every other semi-popular band…”

He took a breath, before adding on, “It was her voice and character that distinguished us. Anyone could name at least ten different bands with guys like me leading them, but barely any with the same vibe she brought.”

You lingered over his explanation. He was an artist, he wanted to make something new, and besides his rather stoic outside you’d notice so far, he was more than happy to be part of something different.

If only he had enough confidence to make himself into the character he wanted to be, because he definitely wasn’t shy either.

“...Just get up there and do it, at least for tonight. Try it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You could only watch in awe from the crowd. Megumi was majestic. His voice was hypnotizing, the way his bangs fell over his face, the light causing small reflections in his eyes, his hands moved gracefully over his black, beaten up guitar.

The instrument was something that could easily be overlooked, like a spare tossed back stage for an emergency. Yet in Megumi’s arms, he made it seem like the thing was a precious relic, capable of much more than it led on. The colored stage lights caused a halo glow around his silhouette, almost as if he was a saint.

It could be an in the moment thing, the emotion of the crowd, the fact you were so close to him. Maybe it was the whiplash you got from seeing him just half an hour before as a quiet, mostly reserved guy, to a model worthy shot currently in front of you. But oh, he was the most handsome rockstar you’d ever seen.

And still, you sadly understood what he meant earlier about the band. Megumi was special to you right now because you knew he was different on stage then off it. He was nowhere near bad, but also such a contrast from the atmosphere the band previously brought. His vocals ringing through your ears produced by the speakers was enough proof he was an insanely talented person, but it wasn’t as heavenly as it had been paired with a raspier, yet higher and emotion filled tone Nobara had brought.

Megumi still stood out in other ways though. Instead of the ‘basic’ look most guys wore around this scene, which consisted of baggy jeans or japanese denim paired with an ironic graphic tee or vintage band one, Megumi took on more of a V-kei style inspiration. You could guess he probably put more effort into it when he had shows, but if someone showed you a picture of him and told you he was a member of a band like Luna Sea or X Japan before you had properly met him, you wouldn’t have doubted it.

He couldn’t be overlooked on stage, not in appearance at least, but besides that, what really made them stand out more than the other band that had previously gone up before? Even bands with other female leads lacked what they used to have. Loud, bold, mean lead singer, even if it was just a stage personality. A true diva you could say.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“That was ass…” Megumi mumbled, tossing his guitar case into the back of Maki’s black SUV. “What are you saying man? For a three person band we played great live!” Itadori announced, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Maki was already sitting in the driver's seat, clearly just wanting to go home at this point, considering Nobara wasn’t the only one that recently left the band. Their old fifth member had left a week ago for some exchange program. And now she was stuck around her strangely close to her age nephew and his chattery best friend. Megumi just scoffed and shut the trunk, dragging Itadori along to the car’s side door. “I missed a shit ton of notes because I focused too much on singing, my voice cracked like a hundred times-”

“Shut up! You were great, we were great!” Yuji cheered, just happy he had fun honestly. But he didn’t get it. As emo as it sounded, Megumi knew he was being a prick and just nitpicking, nonetheless, he couldn’t let go of the closest thing to perfect he had had. Music was more than just a stress reliever for him, he’d give up anything to be able to make this his career instead of working whatever lame corporate job he could settle for. Since he was little, even through his motivation loss of anything (and almost everything), he never let go of playing music, he never once left the house without his worn down red headphones, and he never planned on quitting his art. He never considered himself as a perfect person, that role belonged to his sister and his overly cheery best friend.

Megumi knew he could be a selfish man, and meeting you again that night proved it in more ways than one.

He and Maki let Yuji drag them to a bar to meet up with Nobara as a celebration. Apparently it had karaoke, a detail he picked up when he walked through the front entrance. When they entered he wasn’t surprised to see Nobara up there already singing, she probably got bored of waiting even if it was just for a few minutes and wanted to have fun. What did catch him off guard however, was you.

There you were, next to your friend on the bar’s makeshift stage, both of you performing some improvised cover of Celebrity Skin by Hole. The way you moved, your expressions, your voice. It was like he was starstruck.

He never would have guessed he’d really run into you again after tonight, but he suddenly remembered what you had said earlier about finding another member to become the frontman of his band. He knew he needed to make sure he stayed in contact with you, convince you his band needed you. Feeling the waves of his insecurity still lingering, the desperation to achieve his band’s perfect form again, it drove him to stick by you the rest of the night after that. You took a shot, he followed. You chatted with a group and he’d stand silently by your side. Ask him a question and he’d answer. He kept the conversation rolling with you, easier now in comparison to earlier (most likely because of the alcohol) until he finally ‘popped’ the question. Would you be in his band? And he couldn’t swallow the slight irritation that rose in him when you just laughed.

“You’re not serious right? You want me- not just in your band… but as the front of it?” He huffed almost silently, a hurt to his ego that you weren’t taking him seriously. “What’s so hard to believe? I saw you up there with Nobara earlier-“

“Fushiguro, listen I haven’t been in a band since highschool. Even then it was some crappy thing a guy I was dating had created, it was never serious…” He leaned more towards you, shifting slightly in the booth you had both cornered yourselves in. “So why’d you quit playing then? You clearly still love the scene, you watch all these bands play, but you don’t get involved?”

You sighed before taking a sip of whatever tropical drink you had spontaneously let his other bandmate, Itadori, pick out before he wandered off. “Just other stuff… i’m going to college now, part time job to help pay for it and stuff, there’s no time, even if I wanted-”

“I’ll pay you for it- just be in the band”

What?

“How much does your current job pay you? It’s not a… a real commitment right? I’ll pay you to be in the band- and don’t worry, I can afford it.”

Was this guy you just barely met seriously telling you he’d pay you to be in his band? You considered ditching him and leaving to go find Nobara, but before you could excuse yourself, he continued.

“You’re talented- really talented… I don’t wanna sound desperate, but you really seem like you could be great at this… tell me what your current job pays you, i’ll give you more than that, alright?”

You just stared at him shocked, you didn’t know if you just fell in love or grew more scared of him.

“You’re insane.”

Megumi just huffed and slightly squinted his eyes at you, while you came to the conclusion he must be more drunk than you. “You said the last time you were in a band was because of your boyfriend right? Was that really it? Didn’t you enjoy it or even… want to do it?” You thought over his words, searching your brain for an answer that you already knew.

“He taught me guitar and… well I was in choir at the time, but I've always loved being in this scene, when he started a band… I was actually the one that offered to sing for it, I just wanted to be part of something different than what I was used to, like boring choir performances and getting yelled at by our teacher for wearing the wrong uniform, as if we were some professionals instead of just a shitty highschool choir. Honestly it’s probably why he ended up being my longest relationship, why I stayed with him even though he was lowkey one of those wanna be indie guys who are actually hidden misogynists. He gave me something I needed at the time.”

Megumi listened to you ramble on about how your highschool ex and his bandmates were kind of terrible guys to be around, all while reaching his own messy conclusion in his head. He sat there next to you, letting you get it all out while he worked through his own thoughts about what you had shared. If he was able to make you feel the same way your boyfriend had back then, by showing you something you wanted to be a part of, something to make your life more interesting, if he presented himself to you like something you needed then maybe you’d join in. He needed to convince you, prove why you wanted to be a part of his band.

Megumi was about to speak up again, when suddenly a tray of shots was practically thrown onto the table. Megumi looked up, only to find a cheeky and halfway drunk Nobara looking down at them. She narrowed her eyes at him, before she slid the tray a bit closer to the two of you before she spoke up.

“Watch these- I bought them but we can’t finish them… I'll be back, just don’t let some drunk steal them.”

With that she walked off, most likely heading towards Maki to cling to her.

He just sighed as his eyes followed after her, knowing she wasn’t going to come back for the drinks, and instead just picked one up for himself, downing it in just a few seconds. You copied his action, then set the glass down before speaking up again.

“Listen… I just… don’t think it’s for me, thanks for the offer though.”

Megumi could only observe you, he watched you mess with the shot glass you had placed down, taking in how the club’s lighting made certain aspects of your makeup stick out. The highlighter on your nose hadn’t really been noticeable before to him, but now he saw the small sparkles show in the lighting. Your eyeshadow seemed to grow faded under the tinted colored lights, although he couldn’t figure out if it was due to it being this late into the night or just some color theory gimmick.

“...Just try it out with us at least, I won’t force you into this, if you really don’t want to… but seriously, think about it.” You exhaled, and let the exhaustion and alcohol take over you for a moment, just laying your head down on his shoulder. It was almost cute how he immediately tensed up, seeming to grow stiff at the unexpected physical contact. If he had pushed you off you wouldn’t be offended, but it surprised you when instead he hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, letting his hand hold onto your upper arm.

You reached for another shot glass in front of you, sitting up slightly but still being in his embrace. You drank the alcohol, before turning your head to face him again.

“Why do you even want me in your band so badly?” you questioned him. Megumi held eye contact with you, tilting his head only slightly. “You’ve just... you have talent, it’s not hard to understand why. I want this band to go far, I wanna make something of my music... that includes trying to do what’s best for the band.”

“Does doing ‘what’s best for the band’ include cuddling up with some girl to try and persuade her to join your band?”

To that, he just gave you a pointed look, seeming almost offended you’d accuse him of that. You let out a small laugh at his reaction, taking one of the few remaining shot glasses on the table, and in a state of tipsy braveness, putting it up to his lips. He understood the gesture, softening his expression and parting his lips, letting you tilt the drink into his mouth. You watched almost hypnotized as neither of you ever broke away from the other’s gaze.

Megumi didn’t understand why he was letting you be so close to him, why he wasn’t pulling away. He chose to believe it was because he was desperate to have some sort of approval from you, the kind that would help you agree to his proposal, but another part of him couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you beyond that. So as the night played on, he let himself loosen up for the first time in a while. You were easy to get along with, at least in his eyes. You tried to understand his weird sarcastic jokes, even making him laugh with your own when you started to match his humor. And maybe it was the fact that he had been severely lacking any intimate form of affection that led him to so easily make such an out there decision.

He soon found himself exhausted, laying next to you in his own bed, between his black silk sheets and cotton navy blue bed covers. Yet he didn’t regret any of it as he slowly let his memory catch up to his thoughts. Megumi turned on his side, glancing over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, the light on your phone illuminating your face, letting him clearly see your screen as well in the almost pitch black room. He almost let out a laugh when he saw you feeding and caring for some sort of digital pet you had on your phone.

When Megumi felt comfortable enough with someone, he stopped overthinking his actions and just went with whatever his brain told him too in the moment. For him, what you had just done was not something meaningless and superficial, but if it happened with someone he wasn’t official with, he still believed there was an emotional connection there. And so he didn’t hesitate to drape an arm over your body, and tuck you in close, kissing the side of your neck. You didn’t dare push him away, even if it had only been less than half a day you’d spent with him, you could understand so far that he wasn’t the type to do something without any feeling behind it. You let him cuddle with you, let him hold you, because at the end of the day, you didn’t mind it at all either.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Megumi sat with you in his apartment’s living room. His taste for decor was definitely more vintage, most of the furniture seeming antique, most likely thrifted or bought from garage sales. Through lazy morning conversations he had convinced you to try playing at their next show with the band, he said he’d bring you to the practices if you needed a ride, and give you copies of their songs along with any videos of live performances he had saved. Now you just sat next to him on the couch, reading over lyrics of his band’s songs while he mindlessly tuned his guitar, trying to get it to his preferences after wearing it out last night. Some random cheesy drama playing on his TV on low volume became background noise after the movie you had both been previously watching on the channel ended.

Taking a break from reading lyrics, you turned your attention to watch his movements, seeing as he fidgeted with the strings in his guitar.

“…How long have you been playing?”

Megumi took his attention off the strings as he replied to you, “…Since I was still in grade school… my… guardian… gave me my first years ago, and I just kept playing from there.”

You noticed his slight hesitation when he mentioned who he had received his first instrument from, and so you chose to not focus on that. You figured he probably didn’t want to talk about that right now, and so you chose to ask a different question.

“When did you know you wanted to go into music, as a career I mean?”

He strung the E string on his guitar one more time, before he sighed and just moved to gently lay it down on the empty spot next to him.

“Since I saw the college application requirements sophomore year of Highschool.”

You smiled at his comment, just slightly shaking your head.

“Seriously?”

“No, well kind of… community college was always a choice, not a bad option either… but I never liked the idea of working on someone else’s schedule… I wanted to do something I actually enjoyed… not just because everyone else was doing it.” He took a pause and picked up his black coffee he had made earlier that morning with you.

“Truth is, I wasn’t even bad at school, but nothing really gave me a calling… and then one day Maki asked me to join the band she was in… well that seemed interesting enough, then we needed a drummer, so I hesitantly got Yuji involved… and it just went from there.” He took a sip out of his drink, before placing it back down. You just hummed in response to his explanation, while Megumi directed his look towards you. “What are you in college for anyway?”

“Like why did I go to college?”

He blinked, before shaking his head slightly. “No… I mean your major.”

“Oh, well I’m actually double majoring… in English and Visual Arts.” He gave you a short nod in reply.

“Cool…”

“Yeah cool…”

There was a brief moment of silence while you returned back to reading the lyrics, however you both noticed how Megumi hadn’t taken his eyes off you. You were about to look back up, before being surprised when he moved to try and cuddle you into his side. He was an awkward guy, you could tell he wasn’t quite used to this type of ‘relationship’, but you didn’t pull away, maybe if you let him unwind in his own way he’d get the hang of it.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

“He looks like a dead dog that had been thrown overboard, oh god, get him out of the pit now.”

You laughed at Maki’s insults of Nobara’s latest talking stage, having already had a fit after just seeing the picture of some scrawny guy with thick eyebrows trying to crawl his way out of a crowd at a show apparently. Megumi who was sitting next to you just cocked an eyebrow at the picture, observing how this guy had apparently gotten his limbs tangled with the people around him.

“Have you ever seen a rat king?” And his statement only caused you more laughter. Nobara just sighed and put her head in her hands, having given up on defending this guy.

“Okay whatever, how about you guys just focus on training y/n again!”

Maki let out a scoff, while Megumi just rolled his eyes. Nobara sighed and looked at you, “How are you feeling by the way? One week before the next show… you think you’re ready?” You blinked, before letting a small smile form on your expression. “Yeah… I think so, I’ve got the setlist memorized, you and Maki helped me pick the cutest outfit yesterday… that’s everything right?”

She smirked and leaned back a bit, clapping her hands together. “It’s perf, just remember to be extra, people wanna see a performance, get them in the mood.” You nodded, feeling excitement bubbling at the thought of Friday night this week.

Just then you all turned your attention to the front door of Maki’s house opening, seeing Yuji happily walk in with boba and smoothies in a drink carrier along with bags full of carryout hanging from both his arms.

“Food’s here!”

Nobara was the first to jump up, helping him carry it all quicker to the kitchen table, not out of courtesy, but actual hunger. Maki let out a quiet laugh at her reaction, before moving with you and Megumi towards the kitchen.

Soon enough practice had come to a break as you all ate the food you’d ordered from the nearby Tawainese place. And while you busied yourself finishing up your side, you saw Nobara lean in from her seat next to you, a suspicious smile on her face. You could already guess what she was going to say.

“So… you and Fushiguro?” You sighed and rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hold back the smile spreading on your face. “What about it?” She still looked at you with that same teasing smile, “Was he that good, it converted you into a prototype of Nana Osaki?” You just slapped her shoulder and shook your head. “Shut up… don’t even manifest that life on me, and he also had nothing to do with my decision… it seemed fun, and I wanted to try it.” She just giggled and stole a bite of your food, before sighing. “He’s too quiet to be attractive in my eyes… oh and he can definitely come off as pretentious at times, but… I guess he’s good enough for you.”

“Good enough?” You looked up at her statement. After finishing his food, he and Yuji wandered back into the living room, and based off his current flushed and annoyed expression, you figured they were having their version of you and Nobara’s conversation.

“Well, we’ll just see where it goes…”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Oh, this was exciting. You had forgotten how freeing it felt to be up here, to be performing on stage.

You weren’t going to lie, just an hour earlier you had been basically clinging to Megumi from nerves. What if you blanked and forgot all the lyrics? What if you sounded terrible? What if you were boring to watch? What if-

But your thoughts were soon cut off, when Megumi chose to gently kiss you, distracting you from the doubts plaguing your head. He pulled away only less than a centimeter, mumbling against your lips, “You’ll be great… you practiced enough for this, don’t stress.” You hummed in understanding, before giving him a chaste peck again, and then fully pulling away this time. “Thanks Megs…”

And you swore to always believe Megumi after that. It was so freeing. When you had been in a band back in highschool, it was exciting, made you feel like you could be this daring persona, even if you only played at packed basement and underground shows. This was like that, except multiplied by ten.

Between the music, the movement and personality of the crowd, you had forgotten how much you enjoyed singing, until now.

You felt as if you owed Megumi half of your soul, after all, he was the reason you were up here right now. So as a sign of thank you, during the outro of the last song on your guys’ set, you ran over to him, slamming your lips against his, the action motivated by a wave of confidence the crowd's atmosphere had brought you. To say this was definitely the right move to finish would be an understatement.

When the sounds around you faded, you found yourself backstage with Megumi after. Sheepishly apologizing to him for catching him so off guard. It was quite the contrast to how you carried yourself not even twenty minutes earlier, but all he did was shake his head and smile.

“It’s fine… not like it was bad… actually, I had something to ask you.” You met his eyes, feeling your face cool down from the slight embarrassment you just faced.

“Yeah?”

Megumi let there be another second of silence between you two, before finally asking it.

“We’ve been… hanging around each other a lot… and done some… stuff… together, so… I know this might not be the most romantic or correct setting to do this in but, would you wanna go on an actual date? Not just band practice or me taking you home… like… actually go out?”

Your eyes widened slightly, the flush that had previously left your face now returned, but you couldn’t deny the excitement that had risen up in you.

“...Yes- I mean really… that’d be great Megs…” He let out a small breath of relief, and gave you a shy smile.

“Cool… thank you.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

You sat at your vanity, checking your makeup one more time before sighing and moving back, satisfied with the look. Currently wearing one of your favorite more ‘fancier’ outfits, your choice of music playing in the background. You mentally went over the list in your head, making sure you had everything done while grabbing your purse and throwing the last few extra items in. Letting out a sigh, you glanced at the time and sat down in the living room of your apartment, reading over Megumi’s last text, letting you know he was on his way.

Maybe it was a bad idea to start dating the guitarist of the band you were now a part of, most stories don’t end well when they go like this, but that was just the cliche way things went. Screw the movies, they all lied about highschool, they’re probably lying about this.

And besides, it wasn’t like Megumi was anything like the romance interests in the movies. He was an awkward, silent guy, and the more you thought about his way of being, the more you felt honored he had actually taken his focus onto trying to pursue you and off his music, which seemed to be his decided on life’s purpose.

Lost in thought, you almost missed the knock on your door, you guessed signaling your date’s arrival. You made your way over, smiling when you had seen him standing awkwardly on the other side of your door through the peephole. He looked handsome, wearing a black button up and black denim, which just looked expensive on him. You could see the small bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

“Hey… you look great.”

You saw the smile form on Megumi’s face at the small compliment. “Thanks… I like.. The color of your dress, you look very pretty.” He looked over to the side, before stepping back from the door a bit, and finally handing you the flowers. “Nobara said these were your favorites… so if she got them wrong blame her, but i’ll get you the right ones next time.”

You felt a sense of fondness as you watched him there, knowing he had made an effort to find and bring them to you, this was definitely earning him some sort of brownie points.

“Thank you Megs, really… don’t worry, these are my favorites,” you said as you took them from him, observing the petals and color for another second before moving to find a place to set them down, making a note to put them in a vase when you came back.

After making sure to properly lock your door, you took his hand on the way out. Leading him to the elevator, letting him press the button to the lobby.

“You’re still okay trying the place I told you about? It’s a new teppanyaki style place, and after that there's still that Jazz bar we can go to.” A ding of the elevator interrupts, and you hear the doors open at the second floor of the building. A girl walked in and you saw her look over you and Megumi, her gaze lingering on him for an extra moment before she just silently fits herself into the other corner of the elevator when she sees the lobby button had already been pressed. You just return to your conversation with Megumi, choosing not to ponder on her presence.

“I would’ve just taken you straight to the bar, but besides their music, their food’s not that good…” he scrunched his nose a bit just at the reminder of it, and you just let out a short giggle. “Sounds perfect. I’m excited.” He seemed happy with your reassurance, and just tightened his hold on your hand, lightly rubbing his thumb in a circle on your skin.

Soon enough you were both making your way outside of your apartment building and to where his car had been parked. With how alternative his image had been, you weren’t surprised to see him driving an older car. In fact you kind of predicted his personal car would’ve been more on the vintage side, but to find the gorgeous 1960’s impala almost made you go into shock. You knew he took good care of it just based on its exterior condition, and as he led you to the passenger seat’s door and opened it for you, you came to the conclusion this man was not real, and in fact a figment of your imagination. You gave his hand a tight squeeze as if to confirm his existence, before moving completely into the seat, and he only gave you a small questioning look, before shrugging it off and moving to get into his driver’s seat.

Based on the lyrics he wrote and ideals he discussed in his songs, you could tell he didn’t really care for tradition, but even then he was a gentleman.

Megumi started the car and moved out of his previous parking spot, glancing over to make sure you seemed comfortable still, before speaking up, “I’ve got an aux cord… and some CD’s put away in front of you… whatever you're into.” Nodding in response you moved to turn on the radio, scared to leave even the smallest scratch or insignificant imprint anywhere. When you pressed the button, his previous CD that he had left in there started playing, and you decided not to remove it, liking the sound of whatever he had been playing before. He of course noticed, and took the opportunity to ask. “You're not gonna change it?” You looked over to him softly smiling, before returning your gaze back to the front of the road, watching the streetlights pass you by. “I like it, think I've heard it before…”

He hummed in response, keeping his eyes on the road, “It’s Depeche Mode.”

“They’re… Goth?”

There was a slight tug at his lips, before nodding, yet still not removing his eyes from the road.

“Something like that…”

The rest of the way went by with the radio on, and Megumi occasionally breaking the silence by asking you small talk questions. Spending time with Megumi had made you realize he was more of a ‘silent type’. He would ask you questions and answer you whenever you spoke to him, but he never said more than he had too. It’s like he ‘enjoyed the silence’, and preferred to show his emotions through actions rather than words. Physical touch and quality time were definitely more of his love language, and you didn’t mind that at all, because one way or another, he showed he cared, and showed he had genuine interest in you. You’d rather have evidence of that than empty words afterall.

Finally arriving at the restaurant, Megumi parked and got out of the car, and you didn’t miss the fast paced walk he did to get over to your side of the door to open it for you before you beat him to it.

He took your hand again after you had gotten out of the car, leading you inside the restaurant, and all the way to your table. Megumi, besides his stoic and sort of intimidating exterior, was gentle when he wanted to be. When you both sat at the large table with a few other separate parties, he didn’t let go of your hand, not until the drinks had been set at the table. And even then he chose to push his chair in closer to yours than the stranger that set to the left of him.

There were small signs he gave, actions of attraction, but it did catch you off guard when he suddenly became more protective of you the minute your table’s chef seemed to take a liking towards you. You could assume that part of his job was to be charismatic, complimenting the women that sat at their table and picking fun or joking with the men, but a specific compliment thrown towards you made Megumi tense up. Then when he ‘jokingly’ made a small heart with the cooking oil and fire and dedicated it to you, no one missed the glare Megumi threw at him. You didn’t ponder too much on it, but it oh so amused you how your previously quiet date suddenly became more interested in verbal interaction with you. When the chef made another glance towards you, Megumi quickly acted to suddenly have something to tell you. You became even more surprised when he seemed to run out of quick comments to spout out and started telling you short stories of his life.

Soon his distraction had worked, and the two of you fell into your own conversations, not missing the few tricks the chef did while preparing the rice and your other choice of food, but definitely more submerged in your own world than whatever the rest of the table was up to.

Even after Megumi’s… passive aggressiveness, the chef still smiled at the two of you, and you gave him a thank you, while Megumi only gave him a quick nod. The food having been served in front of the two of you still hot from just recently coming off the grill, you turned to Megumi when he started talking again.

“Have you ever eaten at places like this before?”

Thinking for a moment, before you responded to him, “Once or twice, with some friends… but this one’s different, the aesthetic of the place looks fancier…”

“Really?”

“Yeah… think it’s the lighting honestly… it’s more… I don’t know, romantic almost.”

“Well… that would be the point.”

You huffed and nudged him, before finally trying the food in front of you. You savored the taste, before making your opinion on it. “Oh… it’s really good, honestly, the cook did a good job.”

Megumi just hummed in response, looking over your plate after taking a bite of his own meal. “It’s alright… nothing special…” You heard him mutter that last part, and almost giggled at his lingering jealousy.

“Could you cook like this?”

He continued eating, before pausing for a moment.

“Definitely… Gojo couldn’t cook growing up, and no offense to Tsumiki, she could definitely cook, but I think I was the best chef to come out of that household.”

“Oh, cocky are we?”

Megumi gave you a look at your sentence, he saw the teasing smile on your face, and it couldn’t help but be contagious.

“...It’s the truth, her food wasn’t bad, but it was always sweet in some way…”

“Not a fan of sweets?”

He shook his head a bit, finishing the food in his mouth before speaking. “Not really… it over-stimulates my mouth, I don’t know how anyone handles overly sweet stuff, like cotton candy or those giant cookies… it’s just unhealthy too, and expensive. It’s a waste of money.”

“Well yeah… but when you're in the mood, some money spent on a little sweet treat never hurts anyone…”

“A gambling addict has said some variation of that sentence before too, and look at those guys…”

You scoffed and shook your head, yet your smile still hadn’t disappeared. “Those are nowhere near the same thing…”

“If you like them, I won’t judge you, but I’m letting you know now.” You watched as he then took another bite of his food, clearly enjoying it despite his earlier one sided beef with the chef.

“If I got one after this would you share it with me?”

He thought about it for a moment, before sighing. “Well… I guess it’d be rude to deny my date’s request…”

And he almost regretted his decision the moment he took his third bite of the overly sweet cake you had decided to order after your dinner. You laughed at his expression, as he let the spoon fall a little too dramatically on the plate, while he turned his face away. He knew he wouldn’t like it on the first bite, he pushed down the second bite, and just gave up on the last one.

“Didn’t like it ‘gumi?”

“...You can finish it.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

The atmosphere of the romantically lit, elegant Jazz bar offered a much warmer ambience than what the chilly sidewalk you and Megumi had previously been walking down had. You loosely held onto his arm while Megumi led you to a small table with only two seats. A simple but darling candlelit centerpiece decorated your table, along with a cotton tablecloth.

Once you had situated yourself at the table, Megumi hesitated for a second before moving to sit down, you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“...Do you want a drink?”

You glanced at the bar along one side of the room, before nodding and telling him your drink order. He then made his way over to the bar, and you observed his familiarity with the place, the way he spoke more casually to the bartender as if he knew him, which he probably did. However you noticed the way the bartender seemed surprised when he looked over and saw you at a table. He turned his attention back to Megumi and it looked like he made a teasing comment, to which your date just rolled his eyes at.

After a few more minutes, he made his way back to you holding both your drinks. Placing them down in front of you, he settled into the chair next to you.

“Do you often come watch people play here?”

Megumi trailed his gaze to the front of the room, the small and stylish stage lit up with a warm toned spotlight, along with its polished wood floor.

“I’m not just a rockstar… what’s the point of liking music if you only limit yourself to one genre?”

“That’s true… I mean, there's something good from every type of music…”

Megumi hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on one of the instruments propped on the back wall of the stage. “Exactly…”

You’d guess around ten minutes passed by, before you saw a beautifully dressed woman make herself on stage, she carried herself with an atmosphere of elegance yet friendliness, and introduced the first performer of the night. A few seconds after she walked off and you saw a man behind her start to play.

You were immediately mesmerized, and the enchantment only intensified as he continued playing. His music was beautiful, you could say he had a bit of modern influence, but still much respect for the classics. There were a few other people in the background helping create background instrumentals, but the saxophone the main performer played really stole the show.

You and Megumi continued watching the whole performance, and at the end when the man said his goodbye’s to the crowd, Megumi turned to you.

“...What would you think of adding any sort of Jazz influence to rock music?”

You blinked in response, trailing your eyes over his face, noticing a glimmer in his eyes that seemed to contain inspiration.

“Like.. a rock-jazz band?”

He shook his head slightly, before answering, “No… not really but, a few musical influences from it, there’s a possibility there for a few great songs…”

You hummed in response, “Well, I think there’s definitely a way to turn it into something, switch some guitar harmonics…”

He tilted his head slightly, picking up his drink and sipping from it, “Definitely…”

You smiled and shook your head. “You’re such a music nerd…”

He only gave you a playful glare at your comment.

It amused you how he seemed to relate everything back to the band if you let him. but you knew better than anyone you admired his dedication and passion.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

After the performances had ended at the bar, Megumi had offered you to come over, and the last thing you’d consider was to turn him down. You walked into his place, already being familiar with the atmosphere of his apartment. A movie had originally been put on, but after the main plot had wandered off so far from the original story, you both concluded it wasn’t worth watching anymore. But instead of turning it off, the two of you had ended up getting distracted with short kisses, which had now escalated into a full on makeout session.

Megumi held you close to him, letting you lean onto him, as he tilted his back on the couch to some degree, letting you slowly slip more and more onto his lap. He had run one of his hands up your collarbone, and was now teasingly tugging on your bra strap under the clothes. Just when he was about to make another move, you were both interrupted by a sudden weight pouncing on him, and startled, you pulled away from feeling fur suddenly rub against you, only to laugh when realizing what had happened.

Megumi groaned when he was caught off guard by his dog, the large white husky lapping at his face excitedly. Unbeknowningly just having ‘cockblocked’ his owner.

“You just chose to wake up now huh?” he grumbled out, and although his expression was annoyed, the way he petted and ruffled the dog's fur gave away his true feelings. About to express your surprise, it was just added onto when you saw and felt another black husky wander past your legs.

“You didn’t tell me you had dogs!” you announced, excited by the revelation of his pets. The white dog which had previously nudged himself between the two of you, now excitedly turned to you, smelling your face before starting to happily try to lick at your face, only to be pulled back by Megumi.

“Why didn’t I see them last time I was over?”

Successfully getting his white dog to stay back, he sighed and looked at you again. “They were asleep… like they should be right now.” Besides his obviously pointed look at the pair, they only seemed to joyfully watch their owner, clearly just happy to see him.

“There’s not a thought behind those eyes…” He muttered out, watching as the black dog now attempted to jump up on the couch and make space for himself too.

You didn’t mind the dogs at all really, running your hands over their furs, and at the first hint of affection from you, they both focused on your presence.

“Don’t do that… they won’t leave you alone after.” You ignored his warning and just laughed at the dogs’ clear playfulness with you. “That doesn’t sound bad at all…”

“...Yeah, until they're suffocating you in your sleep.”

Megumi watched you interact with his pets, and although he was trying to act annoyed, he couldn’t hold back the soft smile that eventually formed on his face.

“Y’know… it’s cruel if you let them get attached if you don’t come over often…”

You glanced up at Megumi, looking at him with an intrigued look. “...Are you… bribing me Megumi?” He just shrugged in response.

“I mean… if you’re not actually gonna… make anything official… it’s cruel to lead them on no?”

You scoffed playfully, “...Are we still just talking about the dogs?” He pretended to ponder for a second, before shrugging again. “...I know we’ve only been on one official date but… we’ve spent enough time together… for me to not be considered a weirdo if I asked you out... right?

“Like… to officially be your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, officially…”

You thought it over for a moment, watching the hopeful yet nervous look in his eyes. Megumi wanted you, more than he had thought he’d end up so. Your mind tracked back over the past month and a half since you had met him, and besides his original motive for approaching you, you couldn’t deny his clear genuine romantic interest in you.

“That’s fine… I'd… really love that.”

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author’s notes

HIII GUYS!!! this is my first ever fan fic im sorry it’s like humongous, but i really hoped you enjoyed!!!

tysm so much if you read the whole thing it means so muchhhh

i’m thinking about turning this one into a series and just writing more story as the band continues to grow, so if you guys are interested pls pls pls let me know!!

did u guys catch the depche mode pun 😇

lowkey was inspired by nana just a bit 🤏

anyways, again tysm for reading, and please like & reblog if you enjoyed it!!

besos mwah 😽

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kinardsevan · 26 days ago

Text

in the shadow, here i am (and I need someone by my side)

this is half inspired by @sherlocking-out-loud's prompt, and was also already half-written for the second half of it based off of the interaction that takes place in it. I think they slot together well <3 cw: 8x15 spoilers (although I'm assuming if you're here, you've already seen it)

It’s a long day. Bobby’s faith being what it was leads to Athena holding a full Catholic funeral for him, combined with the LAFD doing their part in holding a full processional for him. The graveside service is a struggle for everyone, and it takes every ounce of determination Evan has in him to hold it together when it comes time to ring the bell.

Afterward, the chief announces a gathering at city hall, which most of their team comes to the conclusion that they don’t actually want to attend. Still, Athena is in full need of their support, so they band together with her to make an appearance. Still, once they’ve made a quick round, they find a way to slip her and the kids out before they all agree to meet back at Evan’s place. In some sort of cruel, twisted joke, the finishing touches seemed to be going on Bobby and Athena’s house, but Athena was still struggling to decide if she actually wanted to live there now without Bobby. Plus, in the face of losing the captain, Evan had taken on the role of taking care of everyone and making sure everything related to the funeral was covered. By relation, Tommy was doing his best to make sure Evan was taken care of, but it was all a process. He tried not to push too hard because he knew it was a delicate balance between letting Evan maintain his hold on his grief—and frankly, his sanity at the moment—and if that meant helping him host a post-funeral get-together, then so be it.

Truth be told, though, food wasn’t what any of them wanted, even if the kitchen and multiple tables in the living room were flooded with food—mostly from recipes that Evan had learned directly from Bobby. It didn’t stop the baking, either, and there were plenty of cakes, cookies, and pastries scattered across a table set aside just for desserts.

Stll, whether people were just being polite or they actually felt the urge to eat something, inevitably everyone ended up with at least a small plate with one thing or another on it, having changed out of their dress blues and nice clothes into more casual clothing. Light conversation scattered here and there, and while Evan was working on cutting up a homemade pizza after someone—he was pretty sure it was Eddie—suggested that greasy food might help, he returned to the living room to find their friends telling stories about Bobby. Some were funny, others were sad, but all were sentimental.

As he walks back in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, Eddie is finishing a story about how Bobby had helped him during his time at Dispatch. Based on the way conversation has been shifting around the room, Tommy is next in line, and Evan has no idea what the pilot is going to say.

A wistful smile pulls at his face as he stares down at the coffee cup in his hands.

“I put in for my transfer about a month before Evan finished at the academy,” he states. He clears his throat after a moment and inhales a breath, trying to choose his words correctly. “After Bobby came into the 118, I think it was the first time I really felt like I could maybe fit somewhere, being myself. I was still trying to work out what that meant, and it took me a while, and I had this stupid fear of actually doing it in front of…” He pauses again, holding a palm out to gesture at everyone else. “Well, I guess in front of all of you.”

Evan leans against the wall by the doorway, staring over at Tommy as he talks. His gaze falls to a loose thread on the oatmeal gray long-sleeved henley the pilot is wearing at the same time Tommy seems to spot it, pulling on it with his thumb and forefinger. He watches Tommy’s gaze flit to the ceiling, and something inside his chest twists, knowing the other man is trying to keep his own emotions at bay.

“Anyway, I’d been flying a lot after ending my last relationship, working out what I felt like I could handle and not, and as much as I wanted to stay, I didn’t feel ready to do it in front of people who knew me so intimately. Bobby knew I was working on getting fully certified and mentioned Harbor being an option with Air Support after a few conversations where I’d mentioned being restless and needing a change.

“The week I left, he asked if we could get coffee before a shift.”

Tommy walks into the firehouse wearily, stopping by the lockers long enough to drop off his things off in his before heading up to the second floor. Bobby texted him just before he’d left his house to let him know that he’d swung by the coffeeshop nearby and picked up the good stuff.

He climbs to the mezzanine, past the walkway and around the corner to the captiain’s office, knocking twice before entering when Bobby calls out.

“Kinard,” Bobby greets warmly. The older man looks more awake than Tommy feels, but the coffee cup sitting on the visitor’s side of the desk has Tommy’s regular order scrawled on the side—caramel latte with extra caramel and and extra shot—and it lures him into the room, where he drops into a chair across from Bobby and lifts the lid off, taking a sip from it and letting the warmth slide down gratefully. Something about that first drop hitting his stomach feels like life kicking in and the exhaustion being tamped down just a little bit.

“Hey Cap,” he states after recapping the drink and settling back on the desk. He grants the other man a small smile. “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,” Bobby answers. He seems to study Tommy for a moment, thinking on his words. He takes another sip of his own coffee and then settles back in his chair. “I guess there’s no right way to say this, given that you’re already headed to Harbor next week. But I wanted to express that it’s been a pleasure to have you here with the team. You made settling in around here a little bit easier.”

Tommy grants a small smile at Bobby’s statement and nods. “I appreciate it. It’s been a good thing to be here under your tutelage.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Bobby responds. SIlence settles in between them briefly, and Tommy’s brow furrows in curiosity. He feels a little awkward, wondering if he was really asked to come in early just so that Bobby could give him a good send-off. But when the other man doesn’t speak right away, he leans forward and starts to push up from his chair. “We done?”

“I know you’ve been dealing with a lot of change,” Bobby comments. The way his voice sounds coming out of his mouth punches Tommy in the chest. “And I’ve never wanted to push you to talk about anything you weren’t ready for, especially if you’re not ready for it. But I hope that you're leaving is in pursuit of something that brings you good things, and that it’s not because you didn’t feel like you couldn’t be yourself or that you didn’t feel safe here.”

Tommy gulps, staring down at the ground hard. How many times has he wished that someone would tell him that he deserves to feel safe? How many times has he wanted to find a place where someone would let him be himself?

He picks up his coffee and stares down at it, sniffs. After a few seconds he clears his throat and looks up at Bobby.

“I’m gay,” he rasps. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, glancing up the ceiling for a moment.“And, it’s taken me a long time to get to that without feeling like I have to…”

“Be someone else for everybody else?” Bobby offers.

Tommy nods.

“And you know you don’t have to leave here in order to be who you want to be, right?” Bobby asks.

“I do,” Tommy responds. A rueful smile crosses his face. “On both fronts. Not because of anything wrong here, but so that-..”

“You can fully embrace it without any strings.”

“Yeah,” Tommy answers, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Bobby nods for a moment. “Well, you always have a place here if you ever change your mind.”

“He was the first person I ever told,” Tommy finishes, his gaze still on his coffee cup. A hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes, and he glances up to see Eddie beside him. The younger man squeezes his shoulder again, and Tommy nods at him before his gaze shifts across the room towards Evan as someone else starts telling their own story. He watches as his ex-boyfriend-current-situationship clears his throat as an emotional expression crosses his face. He mutters a soft ‘sorry’ that Tommy’s not sure most of the room catches, and then ducks into the hallway around the corner.

His gaze flits back toward Maddie, who seems to have been the only one who noticed, and he shakes his head in a small movement towards her, lifting his hand slightly before settling his coffee cup on the sideboard beside him and walking down the hall after Evan.

When he reaches the end of the hall, the bedroom door is mostly shut, but a sliver of light slips through. Tommy wraps his hand around the door handle and gives a very light knock.

“Evan?”

He hears sniffles from inside the room and eases the door open enough to slide in before closing it behind himself. Evan is seated on the side of the bed, sniffling as he rubs a palm anxiously over his knee.

“I’m fine,” he insists, trying to wave Tommy off with his other hand. He says it as though they haven’t spent every night together since Bobby's passing, like Tommy wasn’t the one who brought Evan home, got him showered and into bed, and stayed curled up with him for the next twelve hours as he moved through each undertow of grief.

Tommy crosses the room anyway and sits down next to Evan, tilting his head to look at him as he rests a hand between Evan’s shoulder blades. Evan lets out a quiet sob and Tommy shifts to move closer, but Evan lifts his hand from his leg, shaking it.

“No, no,” he insists. “I-…” He forces down a deep breath before looking up at Tommy. The pilot reaches up and wipes at the tears on Evan’s face, looking at him with concern.

“I j-just- n-nobody gets it,” Evan stammers. “Not really. I- I mean, Maddie has always had a better relationship with our parents than me, a-and I know Chim lost his mom, but he has the Lee’s, a-and Hen has her mom-..”

“And they’ve all always had someone,” Tommy finishes for him in a softer tone.

Evan nods. “I…b-before I got here and joined the LAFD, had Bobby in my life…” His voice trails off as he folds his hand out, at a loss for the right words.

“You didn’t have anyone,” Tommy says, stroking his thumb between Evan’s shoulder blades where his hand still rests on the younger man’s back. It takes him a few seconds, but Evan nods, staring off into space as if recalling a memory. When he breaks from it, he glances back up at Tommy.

“I mean, Maddie was around, but she went to Boston when I was 12, and then I tried to get her to leave with me when I was 19, and she sent me away with her jeep because of how her ex-husband was,” he explains. “And everywhere I went, I never fit. Until I got here, and landed i-in your open spot.”

Tommy gives a small, wistful smile, nodding.

“Bobby turned that place into a safe haven,” he comments.

Evan nods again. “H-he was really insistent in the beginning, about how- how we weren’t family. But over time, I think we wore him down, a-and Athena.” He pauses, sniffs softly, and then shakes his head. “Somewhere in the midst of it, it was like finally having a-a real…”

“Like having a father,” Tommy finishes. Evan nods, sniffling, and he rubs his hand up and down the younger man’s back again.

“And I like everyone’s stories, but… no one seems to get how it feels losing that,” he murmurs.

Tommy rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, sliding his hand down Evan’s back and pulling it away. The younger man looks over at him, a haunted expression on his face as Tommy’s own reminds him of one he’d seen on the pilot’s face the night they broke up.

But then Tommy slides his palm into Evan’s and interlaces their fingers.

“I do,” he rasps, staring down at their hands. Evan’s eyebrows raise, and he opens his mouth to ask, only to stop himself. Something about the way Tommy is reaching out instead of running, trying to build a bridge instead of bolting, makes him stay quiet so that he can hear the man out.

“My mom,” he explains, tilting his head slightly. The wistful smile returns as he strokes his thumb against the back of Evan’s. Tommy wrinkles his nose and sniffs. “She died when I was seven. She was kind-of my world… at least as much as a mom can be when her kid is obsessed with monster trucks. But, she loved romcoms, and she always made the best homemade red velvet cake.”

Evan watches him silently, heartened by the fact that Tommy is choosing to finally share this part of himself with him.

“She uh…she got sick, really fast,” Tommy states, forcing a smile on his face as his eyes start to burn. “One day she was fine, and then she got this pain in her chest, and after a really short hospital stay, she was home for a few weeks, and then she was gone.”

Evan lifts his free hand up to Tommy’s cheek, stroking along his temple.

“Baby,” he murmurs softly, his voice lilting. “I’m so sorry.”

Tommy shakes his head, looking up at Evan with tears clinging to his waterline. He forces down a gulp along with a deep breath.

“She would’ve really liked you,” he comments. He turns into Evan’s palm slightly, kissing the edge of it. “Would’ve said it was about time I found someone who wouldn’t just let me keep running.”

Evan smiles at him, a little rueful. “Bobby already did like you.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah?”

Evan nods. “He said you were good for me.” His gaze flits back and forth at Tommy’s eyes as he strokes his thumb along the man’s face again. “He wasn’t wrong.”

Tommy’s smile grows a little, heartened as well, and he reaches up for Evan’s wrist, holding onto it as he leans into the younger man. Evan meets him in the middle, trading soft, open-mouthed kisses for a few seconds. When they part, Tommy rests his forehead against Evan’s.

“Life’s fucking fleeting,” he murmurs.

Tommy nods. “That it is.”

“And I don't want another second to pass without you knowing exactly where you stand in my life,” Evan states. Tommy leans up slightly, clearly curious but also prepared for the seriousness of whatever Evan is about to say.

“Okay?”

The younger man’s gaze flits again, down to Tommy’s lips briefly, and then back up toward him.

“I love you,” Evan says softly. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time now, and I don’t want to waste more time on what might be. I don’t want anyone else; I haven’t since the day I met you. I didn’t know what I was looking for when I found you, but I do now, and it’s just you, in whatever form that takes.”

Tommy presses his lips together anxiously as he inhales a deep breath. He gulps, tilts his head down slightly, looking at where their hands are still intertwined.

“Why be apart when we can be together,” he murmurs, almost a whisper.

Evan laughs a breath. “Yeah, I guess.”

Tommy looks back up at him. “Falling in love with you is both the easiest and most terrifying thing I have ever done. You made a black and white world technicolor, but at such a speed and assurance that the crash felt inevitable. It took me a long time to realize I was the one driving the car.” He pauses, gently pulling Evan’s hand down off his face only to curl his fingers around the younger man’s chin and grin at him, his eyes drifting to Evan’s lips. “I think I loved you before I even knew you, before I knew the possibility of you. You just turned up one day, and my heart already knew you.”

Evan blushes at Tommy’s words.

“‘course, I had to get out of my own way first,” he comments, and they both laugh. Tommy tilts his head slightly, still looking at him. “I love you so much, Evan. I wake up every day thankful that you’ve survived a bomb that was intended for me, and being struck by lightning, and lately I feel really fucking selfish and also grateful that you didn’t get locked in that facility with the rest of the 118 and contract CCHF.”

Evan breathes a few breaths. He understands what Tommy means, even if a wave shoots through his chest, given that he’s definitely had moments where he wished he could’ve switched places with Bobby or Chimney, regardless of the fact that he knows that Bobby would’ve fought to get everyone out if roles had been reversed. And then, of course, there’s the issue of the fact that every time he had that thought, his competing thought was the fact that he would’ve left Tommy alone. Again. It's the first time it starts to dawn on him that—as Eddie had told him so long ago—that his life isn’t expendable. Someone waits for him to come home.

“Where do we go from here,” Evan asks softly.

Tommy looks back at him somberly, his thumb shifting to the edge of the younger man’s jaw and stroking gently. A small laugh escapes him, and he repeats himself, his voice ticking up towards the end of the sentence. “Why be apart when we can be together?”

“You want to move in together,” Evan asks.

Tommy gulps. “I don’t want to risk the idea that one of us could die tomorrow, and I didn’t spend every waking moment possible getting to love you. So yes, I want to move in together. I want everything you said that night. Not…” He pauses, inhales a deep breath. “Not tomorrow, but…when things feel better, and we have a real plan.”

Evan nods. He’d had a conversation with Athena a few days before, talking about how they both wanted more time with Bobby, and she’d mentioned the fact that he had said to her that he wanted more time with her, but they weren’t going to get it. Lying in bed over the past few nights with Tommy beside him, he couldn’t shake the fact that they were staring down the barrel of being granted that option, only to let stupid idiosyncrasies and fears stand in their way because they both kept choosing ot pine in fear instead of being willing to be the one that would take the leap and pick up the phone.

“Will…will you s-stay? In the meantime,” Evan asks. Tommy squeezes his hand again.

“Baby, I’ll be here as long as you let me.”

#bucktommy #my fic #sloth writes #tevan #kinley #firepilot #firebeast

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