#a fact is that i wrote this in bus when i'm going home

[castlephantom]

A small headcanon that I had in my mind is that that the current generation of Belmonts nationality are romanian (because my brain wouldn't leave me alone as latin version of Julius' name is Iulius). I also want to believe that Julius knows romanian and he talked with Alucard in that language before his amnesia.

[wooahaes]

skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato, and Wriothesley with a dragon s/o?

Also, how are you?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah!! I kinda sillies in Kaeya's part but I hope it's not a problem- Either way, I'm good! Snd you~? ^^

Hope you like what I wrote hehe

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Kaeya noticed dragon-like looking person when he was walking back home from Angel's Share, so naturally, he thoughts it's alcohol doing...

✧ but who is he to decline his fate? He came up and complimented your features anyway, sure tomorrow he'll see you as normal citizen

✧ from your end, you noticed the man was obviously under influence of alcohol but he wasn't harmful... so you let the conversation go the way you wanted~

✧ and when on next day he discovers it wasn't him tripping... well.. he's glad to have such an interesting friend! Because unless you push him away, he's not gonna back away from this friendship!

"My my~ It's rare to see someone so pretty! That tail must be really heavy, huh? Want me to hold it for you?"

✧ but if you two are lovers and he sees your real form by mistake... he'll be freezed for a second... hehe get it? Because in his ult he- ehem.. sorry..

✧ but when he sees you panicking, he immidietly chuckles and assures you while caressing your cheek with his hand gently and maybe flirt while he's at it as well~

"Why would I ever think you're a monster when you're as stunning as always, my darling? Maybe even more~ This "scary look" definitely makes you look even more lovable~"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your cavalry capitan~

✧ Ayato, being head of Kamisato Clan, is always trying to be as respectful as possible, be it if you come from different region or aren't human... as long as you're friendly and give him respect back, he'd be happy to chat

✧ but dragons in Inazuma are still rarely seen... so when he noticed you on his walk, he tried approaching you with a soft look

✧ he honestly just wishes to get to know you and maybe realize the difference between human and dragons behavior... and who knows? Maybe he'll get to know even more if he plays his cards right?

"Good evening. I'm sorry it I started you, I just noticed your... rare beauty and wondered if you'd be interested in a little chat?"

✧ tho if you're already partners and you happened to hide your real form well... he'll be even more interested...

✧ how did you manage to hide it from him for so long? He's curious to me know this and many more about you

✧ but if he sees you're stressing yourself over the fact he found out, he'll be quick to calm you down, assuring you he still loves you the same

"Please calm down... I don't see why you hid it in the first place... Did you really thought I wouldn't love you just because you have tail? If anything, I say you only expanded my interest in you~"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your boba lover!

✧ and so is Neuvillette~ he just has a bit of a better disguise while you're... walking proudly in your form... and that's alright!

✧ if you can be easily found on streets, he'll be happy to see another dragon friend and will probably even approach you himself

✧ Charlotte definitely saw you two interacting at some point, especially since Neuvillette is a big person, but of course she asked first before publishing anything and it's up to you if you were in the news or not!

✧ but if you prefer hiding in quieter places, there's still a chance he found you and yob two chatted either way

✧ he'd probably come off as calm but in reality, he's pretty excited to finally meet another dragon with such a pleasent personality

"I find it quite surprising we haven't met untill today... I'd like to get to know you more if you don't mind."

✧ and if it happens you both are already dating when you spoil your secret identity~ believe me, he won't mind one single bit!

✧ he literally can't understand why you even tried hiding it from him when he already told you he's the same

✧ but don't worry, he's not mad, if anything he's gentle and tries his best to be reassuring

"Why were you afraid? Haven't I already revelead I'm the same? My love for you can't be broken, no matter who you turn out to be."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your otter judge~

✧ Wriothesley is already friends with Neuvillette and has pretty sharp eye and ear, there's no way he didn't know his friend is a dragon

✧ so when he got our of Fortress of Meropide to get some work done and saw a dragon, of course he was surprised since seeing one is rare, but he also didn't care to make a scene

✧ he probably ignored you letting you live your life since there was no reason for him to interrupt anything, unless... you're wandering around terrains, the he may

"Excuse me, you may want to keep away from these terrains. You may be taken as a prisoner running away by mistake."

✧ and if you already were his partner, I feel like he'd hear some stories from his dragon friend already... so he'd joke that you act like some dragons in the stories, turning out to be... half joke...

✧ but when you finally reveal the truth to him, he doesn't mind at all! The only thing that changed is the way he may tease you from time to time but that's it

"Walking around in your true form for once? Glad you're comfy. But watch out for your tail or it'll knock down something."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your teddybear duke~

[holdmytesseract]

Time To Get A Grip [EoH]

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After returning home from a nightshift and finding your boyfriend stoned on the sofa, you lose it. Given the fact that he becomes a father soon, it's time for him to finally get a grip.

Warnings: Major trigger warning here! swear words, mentions of alcohol, drugs and smoking, drug consumption, pregnancy things, drama, a fight, angst, bit of blood, fluff, age gap

Gotta rate this story 18+, just in case!

Pre-Apocalypse Era!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: You chose and I am here to deliver! 😁 Well... I had this idea - and wrote it. It fitted perfectly into Daryl's, Y/N's and Teddy's story, so... But it's also quite a bit heavy. I never wrote something like this before.

Special thanks to @fictive-sl0th for encouraging me and loving my Daryl fics! Love ya, friend! 💕

Also, I apologise to all the Merle fans. Sorry, guys! 🙈

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute @eddiemunsonsupremecy @mrbrownstne

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Releasing a big yawn; you closed the locker with the number thirteen painted on, and slipped the key - which was attached to a key ring, inside the pocket of your jeans. With a sigh you grabbed your bag and made your way towards the exit of the changing room. "By girls, see you on Monday!" You said goodbye to your coworkers; smiling. They bid their goodbyes as well; waving and smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you left the room and the big building behind yourself and stepped out on the streets of Gainesville; the bright morning sun almost blinding you.

Working as a nurse in a hospital wasn't always easy. Especially the night shift. But working as a nurse in a hospital at night, being almost eighteen weeks pregnant was even less easy - and so very exhausting. As soon as I'm five months in, I'm quitting this shit, you told yourself. Only day shifts from then on. The thing was, you told yourself that already from the start. From the very day you found out you were pregnant. It was a lie which repeated itself month after month. You knew that it wasn't good to work night shift after night shift. Not for you, nor for the baby. But you practically had no other chance. Being alive was expensive. Food was expensive. Having a roof over your head was expensive. Even if it was just a small apartment in one of the endless, old and quite ragged apartment blocks in downtown Gainesville. It was even more expensive, when you are the only one earning the needed money. And soon, you were going to have not only two mouths to feed, but three. Every day you hoped for a change to come - but it wasn't easy. Oh no.

You shook your head slightly and took another deep breath, in order to get yourself out of your thoughts and your sleepy brain to focus.

After you checked your surroundings, you crossed the front yard of the hospital and made your way to the bus station. All you wanted to do now was going home, crash on your bed and sleep at least until late afternoon. Your body wanted that as well. You knew that, of course. Hence, you had almost slept in on the bus and missed your stop! Luckily, your hazy brain reminded you to stand up in the last second.

Waiting until the bus rolled past you, you crossed the street and walked the last meters to the building in which your apartment was. It was just a few blocks down the road. At least the weather is nice today, you thought; looking up into the sky.

You unlocked the old main door, which led into the big staircase and started to climb the steps, leading up to the third floor. On your way, you met a familiar face - unfortunately. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Jefferson."

Elsie Jefferson. The typical, critical bitter old lady next door, who everybody knew. Husband long dead and owner of at least ten cats. She was utterly nosy and curious about anything and everything. You couldn't stand her since the day she decided to interfere in your affairs. It was your life, not hers - but Mrs. Jefferson didn't care of course. And sometimes, you had the feeling that she did this all on purpose, because she liked you just as little.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N." She had just left her apartment; wearing those old slippers she always wore. A trash bag was in her hand. Apparently, she was just on her way to take out the trash - and you had the perfect timing to run straight into her. Great.

"Coming home from a night shift?" "Mhm, yep." You had absolutely no intention to talk to her, but you also couldn't be so rude to just walk away. The older woman shook her head. "Young lady, young lady... You should stop doing that. Now that you are pregnant." Not that again. "I know, but it's my decision. I'm okay with it. I'm used to it." Mrs. Jefferson shook her head again; rebukingly. You already wanted to walk past her; thinking that the conversation was over - but for her, it wasn't. You should've known. "Does your chaotic mess of a boyfriend still has no job?" You clenched your jaw. You hated it - absolutely hated it, when she brought Daryl up in those stupid conversations. All she wanted was to sting you and throw mud at him - just because he was how he was.

Gritting your jaw, you tried to smile at her. "He's at it." You didn't reveal more. While should you? "So no." She concluded, before stepping closer to you. "Chit... You should get rid of him." "I don't think so, ma'am. He's the father of my child." You tried to argue, but Mrs. Jefferson didn't even listen to you, just continued to speak ill of Daryl. "That man is not good for you and brings nothing but trouble. Just look at his messed-up family! His abusive, alcoholic father! His mother, who was a chain-smoker! And don't get me even started on his brother! Violence, alcohol, drugs... Wasn't he even in the prison only a few years back?" She exclaimed. "Daryl Dixon is toxic, Y/N - and way too old for you... Do you really think he's better than the rest of his family? Do you really think he can change? Turn into a better person?"

Hearing all those foul and judgemental words leaving the older lady's mouth, caused anger and sadness to flow your veins. How dare she? How dare? You had a hard time to keep yourself calm and not snap at her. The raging pregnancy hormones within your body didn't quite help the situation. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath. "Yes, I believe exactly that. I love this man - and that's all that matters. Have a nice day, Mrs. Jefferson." With those words you walked past her; continuing to climb the stairs. But of course, she had one more bombshell to drop on you... "You should've never let him get yourself pregnant. Dixon isn't made to be a father." You ignored her and moved on; mumbling under your breath: "That's what mum said as well..."

You tried to calm yourself down on the rest of the way and erase what just happened from your memories. You didn't have the nerves to deal with that woman. Not today. Not after an exhausting night shift and three times of throwing up in the staff toilets - no.

You climbed the last few steps and headed straight for the quite rickety door, which led into yours - and somehow Daryl's apartment.

Relieved, you closed the door behind yourself. Finally at home. Thank god. Throwing your keys on the small shelf beside the main door, you took off your shoes and jacket. You didn't anticipated Daryl to be home. Not after he had told you Wednesday morning, that he'd go out with his brother. You knew exactly what 'go out' meant. But who were you to stop him? God knows you had tried. Several times. But well... Blood is thicker than water.

Given that fact, you were quite surprised, when you found him in the living room; passed out onto the couch. A smile crossed your face; knowing that he was here - but it faded quickly, when you noticed the condition he was in. Daryl was laying on his stomach; one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa. One sleeve of his yellow-black checkered shirt was ripped off, while the other was still intact. When you squatted down beside him, a wave of cold smoke hit you; coming undoubtedly from his clothes. Daryl's breathing was heavy; sweat dotted his face and presumably his whole body as you noticed further. Some dried, crusty blood was smeared across the skin underneath his nose - and you knew. You knew. You weren't blind. And a nurse. You could tell when somebody was stoned - or well, had been stoned.

It didn't happen often - luckily. It was already enough that Merle made him to consume alcohol way too often. Making him to take drugs was an entirely different story. And you hated Merle for it. Yes, he was strictly spoken family, but the impact he had on his little brother was way too big. The worst part of it was, that Daryl didn't even defend himself.

Seeing your boyfriend in this condition caused the anger, sadness and frustration you had just swallowed down to come up again. Twice as hard. You stood up and crossed your arms; looking down on him.

"Daryl. Wake up." No reaction. "Daryl." You nudged him softly with your knee, earning a low growl. Like already said... You didn't have the nerves to deal with shit like that today. "Daryl fucking Dixon!" You yelled then, causing the man to flinch and immediately wake up. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh?!" He groaned again and moved to sit up; pinching the bridge of his nose. His sweat soaked shirt on full display; short blonde-brown hair as messed up as it could be. "What'd ya mean, hon?" He slurred; still trying to wake up properly. "Oh no no, don't pull that card, Daryl. Don't 'hon' me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Your boyfriend rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, before reddened eyes looked up to meet your Y/E/C ones. "Merle, uh, Merle's got this new, uh, dealer and-" "Forced you to try the 'good stuff', I know." You finished his sentence. "What was it." He didn't answer, just looked at the ground. "That wasn't a question, Daryl. It was a demand. Tell me." He still didn't talk. You stepped closer and rather harshly pushed his left shoulder. "Tell me! What did you snort?!" Daryl swallowed visibly; once again avoiding eye contact. "Jus' a bit Crystal Meth."

You gasped audibly; jaw dropping. "Crystal Meth? Crystal Meth?! Fucking hell, Daryl! That's one of the most dangerous drugs!" Sure, he wasn't stoned anymore, but undoubtedly dealing with the aftermath. And the drug caused his already quite short fuse to be even shorter. He was more irritable. You noticed. Therefore, he was quickly losing it. "Goddamn, woman! Calm down! It was jus' a little bit! I won't do it again!" He snapped - and you swallowed hard; already needing to suppress the tears. The drugs influenced Daryl and the hormones influenced you.

"I don't care if it was just a tiny bit! I don't care if you say you won't do it again, because you always break this promise! You'll do it again - and we both know it! You'll drink again. You'll smoke again. You'll toke again - and you'll take drugs again. Merle is bad for you! When do you finally realise that?!" "Nah, he's family, Y/N! He's the only one I got left!" You shook your head. He didn't even listen to a word you just said, did he? "That may be true, yes! But he's so far off track - and he's dragging you right with him! You could be so much, more, Daryl... But for that, you need to finally break free!" Your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists; was visibly angered as well. "I won't jus' leave Merle! Ya can't ask me to do tha'!" You frustratingly rolled your eyes. He really didn't understand. "I am not asking you to leave your brother! I told you again and again... I'm asking you to keep a healthy distance! Separate your life and his life! Stop acting so headless!" "'M not actin' headless!" You laughed almost maniacally at his ridiculous words. "Oh hell yes, you do! And you know it! Stop this! I need you to quit acting this way, because-" The anger coursing through your veins got suddenly replaced by fear and desperation.

"'Cause wha'?! Huh?! 'Cause what?!" Daryl's already not properly thinking brain thought even less logical as he spat out that question. "I don't know if it already slipped your notice, but..." You pulled the baggy t-shirt you wore aggressively down, causing the visible outlines of your baby bump to appear. "I'm fucking pregnant, Daryl! With your kid! You're going to be a father in not even six months! Do you even know what that means?! A child comes with great responsibilities! We are talking about a human being we need to look after! A baby isn't like a dog or a cat! I can't have you hanging somewhere around, drunk or stoned! That's reckless - and I thought you were aware of that. Apparently, I was wrong."

Daryl was unfortunately way too deep in his rage to understand. All he saw was red. Literally jumping up from the couch - his symptoms of the drug consumption forgotten for a moment, he took a few threatening steps closer, until he was hovering dangerously over you. "Well... Guess ya shoulda have listened to yer parents, girl... 'N dump me when ya still had the chance to. I told ya from the very beginnin' that this wouldn't work out. Us. This relationship was meant ta fail... But now's too late. Like ya said... Already knocked ya up with that bastard child."

You and Daryl had already quite a few fights in your relationship. That was normal and common. Hurtful and ugly words were sometimes exchanged - but he had never said something like this. It really hurt you. Deep. Despite the fact, that you knew that he probably didn't mean what he had just said. You knew that he was actually happy about this baby. Scared to death, but happy. But it hurt. So freaking much.

You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted - and yet sleep didn't find you. You laid awake, hour after hour; thinking about what had happened - and the possible consequences of it. Your brain just couldn't shut up and so you spent the rest of the day and even night with just staring at the wall or ceiling and crying. Sure, you could sleep a few hours, but it was not peaceful and certainly not restful. Anyways... It was way too less sleep, given the fact that you had a night shift behind yourself and were pregnant. Needless to say, you couldn't be any happier about the fact that Sunday was your day off.

You just stared at him, while tears started to trickle down your cheeks. "Go." Your voice was merely above a whisper, but your eyes told Daryl enough to realise, what he had just done. "Y/N, I-" "Leave." "Y/N-" "I told you to go!" You yelled, pushing him away from you. "Get out of my sight, before I do something I might regret!" Daryl grunted and ripped the other sleeve of his shirt off, before he walked to the door; "Fine! If ya want me ta go, I'll go!" and slammed it shut behind himself. Mere seconds later, you broke down crying.

In the early morning hours, you heard the sound of your doorbell ringing. Cursing under your breath, you stood up and walked to the door. You had just been on the verge of dozing off again...

You already suspected that it was Mrs. Jefferson, one of your neighbours - or hence, even the postman, but you certainly didn't expect Daryl to stand in front of your door. Honestly, you expected anyone, but him. He never came back that fast after a fight. Never.

Well... Until now.

"Daryl?" You asked; totally stunned and also a bit confused. "What are you doing here?" He had both his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slightly ripped, grey jeans. A fresh tank top covered his body; not that ragged shirt anymore - and he had visibly showered. The man leaned against the door frame; biting his bottom lip nervously - a habit.

"I really fucked it up, didn't I?" "Yes. Yes, you did," you confirmed without even blinking. Daryl swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "'M sorry." You looked him in the eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "You always say that. I always believe you. And you always fuck it up again." You paused; trying to find the right words. "I love you, Daryl - but honestly, I don't know how long I am able to play this game."  He swallowed hard; the harsh realisation of the possibility to lose you - and with that his child hitting him full force. "Y/N, I... I know. 'M an asshole. Always was. Most likely always going ta be. I don deserve you. And certainly not yer love - but please... Give me one last chance. Us." He sighed; desperately. Words weren't his strengths. "Fuck's sake, I can't live without ya. I need ya. You know that."

Now you were the one who had to swallow hard. Tears stung in your eyes; as you tried to figure out what to say. Yes, you were still angry at him for what he did - for what he said, but on the other hand... You loved this idiot so fucking much. Perhaps even too much for your own good. Not that you cared, though.

"Yes. And I need you, Daryl..." Your raging hormones caused your walls to break. "You're all I've got. I chose you above my family. I gave up my entire life for you. Please don't let this be for nothing. Please hold your promise this time." You choked out; tears staining the fabric of your sleep shirt. "Look for a job; get some distance between your life and Merle's life - and, for our child's sake, get a grip. There's not much time left for you to turn the tide." You took a shaky breath and cupped your baby bump. "I can't do this without you..."

Daryl nodded; his expression soft and full of love - and regret. "I know. I know." He stepped inside your apartment; closed the door and approached you, before he shyly - almost hesitantly placed his bigger hands on top of yours. "'M sorry. 'M so sorry. For what I did - 'n especially for what I said. I didn't mean it. I love that kid. Ya know I do. 'N I promise I'll try ta be a better man. For you and the baby."

You only nodded; unable to speak because of all the tears you shed. He leaned forward; pressed a kiss onto your forehead - and that was the moment you entirely caved. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged his body. Daryl accepted the hug, of course; placed both his hands on your hips and held you.

After a while, Daryl bent his knees and quickly swept you off your feet - much to your surprise, before he carried you into your bedroom. He set you down on the bed, quickly stripped off his top and jeans and joined you; wrapping you up in the tightest snuggle possible. It was almost like he sensed how tired and worn out you were. "Sleep, hon. 'M here. I won't go anywhere." You smiled tiredly up at him and couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. So, you did. "I love you." "I love ya, too."

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What- what does Alphard think the Knight bus is? "Functionally a brothel"??? Is it?

The Man Who Would Be King by me and @therealvinelle

In the words of @therealvinelle in a comment that asked just this

It's a bus consisting of beds that nobody ever takes, the people on it are just on it for the sake of… hanging out, nothing to see here… and no one takes it apart from Harry that one time he accidentally flagged it down. Never mentioned as an option by anybody, and as Heyob wrote in their fic (as we had the same idea at the same time, I love Heyob for this) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/54186907) Ernie is paid enough to tell people not to fuck on the beds but not enough to recite that rule. In other words, that Knight Bus is just so unbelievably shady, massive opium den vibes, I'm if Harry asked Stan would have given him a blunt.

My answer is functionally the same but I can go into more detail.

Who Takes the Knight Bus

We have generally one solid general reason people would deign to take the Knight Bus: those who cannot Apparate and those who cannot use the Floo network.

Now, this might be those who could not afford Apparition lessons and or never passed their exams as well as those who are not on the Floo network in general. You could also have those who legally cannot Apparate, such as Harry when he was underage in book three. And also those who are not in a state to Apparate or Floo: in other words those who are hopelessly inebrieated.

Basically, if you can do the other two though (or portkey) you're not taking it because you can get where you're going faster, easier, cheaper (Knight Bus takes longer and while costs miniscule sickles that still more sickles than you'd pay to Apparate and you have to deal with the fucking bus).

So daytime hours you might have a small but decent commuting crowd during rush hour or what have you the same you do in most public transit.

But what happens when everything... closes...

Now you don't have the people going to and from work or to and from stores, everything's closed. When Harry rides it in third year at night, we see everything weirdly change to beds and the people riding it are just... loitering around... not leaving. They're in fact all served refreshments.

What you have then are the drunk people returning from pubs who are too sloshed to go home/don't want to go home yet and people who don't want to rent a room for however much money/be at a known establishment where people might recognize them and instead pay 3 sickles to ride the bus with the beds on it to have their fun.

Basically.

It's the shadiest fucking thing to be riding at three am and there is no universe in which it is not functionally a brothel between the hours of 12 to 5 am per the way JKR describes its operations.

[thewriterghost]

Lovely!!!! Would you write something about Bucky x reader/ friend who moved to another state for work? They used to be really close and talk a lot but as things go with life and distance they drifted a part a bit? But maybe from time to time she’ll think she’ll see him from behind or a side profile walking home at night and think of him and send him a “thinking of you / we should catch up! text not realizing that from time to time that who she saw was Bucky. He will check in on her and see how she’s doing in her new life

Hello!! I'm so sorry, this is so late 😭 between school and internship I hardly got any time to write. In fact, I wrote this at work lol, hopefully you like it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You moved away from the compound because of school. It's been a lonely few months now. That's definitely the reason you think you're seeing Bucky from the corner of your eye every time you look around, right?

An autumn breeze catches you off guard, right when you are leaving your school building for the day. It was warmer during the day, you think as you walk to your bus stop. It's a lonely time of day, an orange glow of sunlight illuminates the empty bus stop.

As you make it a point to crash every red or yellow leaf you see on your way without being too obvious, out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a familiar metallic glow. That same feeling you always get around him, the butterflies and the hippos come back to your stomach, making your heart beat a million times a moment. Your eyes snap towards it, but it disappears all too fast for you to spot, leaving you with disappointment and longing.

You miss him. You try not to, but it's not easy not talking to him everyday like you did before, not being able to hang out on 3 am when both of you are too stubborn to go to sleep, or not being able to just exist at the same place at the same time with various animals in your stomach (figuratively).

You grab your phone from your pocket and click on his name on your messaging app. You hand hovers over the text box for a while, until you decide to just write to him. It's not like you haven't been talking since you left, it's more like you didn't want to talk all too much because of how much you'd want to just drop everything and go to him. Still, you think, enough is enough.

"Hey, you busy?"

You wait for a moment, anxiously nibbling on your lower lip. It doesn't take him more than 60 seconds to write back.

"Nope. You?"

You write back, biting down a smile.

"Nope. Just got out of school, going home."

You can almost hear his grumble-ish answers through your phone. A message pops up.

"Isn't it late? I thought you got off at 4."

You must've told him your schedule, but your mind doesn't come up with a memory to support it. You shrug it off and type.

"Yeah, I had to make a presentation and I was the last one of the class so the professor just agreed to do it now rather than next week."

"Does that mean you're free next week?"

You can't help but smile brightly. Looks like you're not the only one missing the other.

"Does that mean you miss me?"

You can almost see his scoff. You giggle to yourself.

"Does that mean we can meet?" He answers. You jump at the opportunity almost too fast.

"Yeah, sure. When are you free?"

"Whenever you're free."

"You don't have a mission or anything?"

"I'll bail." His answer makes you laugh out loud, maybe the first sincere laugh since you've been here.

"If it's not going to be a trouble for you."

"It won't. When should I pick you up?"

You check your schedule on your mind. You would be free tomorrow afternoon.

"Tomorrow afternoon? 2-ish maybe?"

"Sounds good."

You contemplate on whether to write it or not, but then think why not and type.

"I missed you, you know." And you put the phone on your pocket, face starting to burn up.

Your phone buzz, and you get the phone out faster than light.

"I missed you too." Your eyes glance over the letters more than once, each time smiling even more, until you find yourself giggling to yourself at 6 pm on an empty bus stop.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Another text appears on your screen, leaving you happier that you've ever been since the last few months.

Next day goes too slow for your taste. You keep finding yourself shaking your knee up and down with anticipation.

You are out of the door when the clock hits 2 pm. As you arrive at the school gates you realize you haven't told him where to come. You pull out your phone to type, but stop at your tracks when you hear it.

"Hey."

Sitting on a black motorcycle, blue eyes and black jacket catches you off guard. A smile creeps on to your lips.

"Hey." You return the sentence as you find your feet and move towards him. He has a gentle smile as well, uncharacteristically for him as people would say, but not for you. You've seen him like this before. When you were up all night and baked not one, not two, but three batches of cookies together, you've seen that same smile everytime your eyes have met. Or that one time when it was raining too hard and you were too sick to go to mission, and he stayed to look after you, cuddling you since he can't get sick because of serum.

He takes your helmet from the back and after looking at you with that sweet smile of his for a moment, he puts it on for you, clipping it with delicate movements.

"Hop on." He instructs and you obey, hugging him from behind with a pair of red cheeks which thankfully can't be seen thanks to your helmet.

As he takes off, you don't bother to ask where to. After a brief 10-15 minutes, he stops in front of a small cafe near a park.

"Were you around here yesterday?" You ask, recalling the silver glimmer you saw yesterday evening.

"I was on a mission." He shrugs.

"Huh." You mumble. Seeing his puzzled look, you add. "I thought I saw you yesterday, after school. Right before I texted you, in fact."

"You must've missed me a lot." He smirks, opening the door to the cafe for you. Always a gentleman.

"Must've." You return the smile as you walk in.

As you both get your coffees and pastries, you decide to ignore the fact that he probably was here yesterday. In fact, he probably was around since you moved here. Watching out for you, worrying about you, missing you.

"What are you smiling about?" You come back to real life when he gently nudges your shoulder with his.

"Oh, nothing." You shake your head. "I was just thinking, we should meet more often. It's been too long."

"Yeah, agreed." He replies with a smile of his own. You don't realize the look in his eyes, confirming your theory.

[whispdoodle]

Honey, I'm home!

Just headcanons between the reader and Vash who just moved in together.

WARNINGS: Literally none, this is pure fluff. The reader is gender neutral and the setting is modern/irl. Enjoy!

Let's face it, he's unbearable the first few days. But in an oddly charming way. He makes an emphasis whenever he addresses the fact that the two of you now share most of your belongings. He would do stuff like prepare dinner and then call for you saying stuff such as "dinner's served! you know, at OUR table!"

The first time the two of you walk through the threshold, he absolutely insists that you let him carry you in. There is no arguing, not when he's staring at you like a beaten god damned labrador.

So, he tries. Emphasis on the "tries". Because, guess what? The man is so excited that he ends up messing up in all the possible ways. Your head definitely hits the doorframe, and while he's panicking and apologizing Vash loses his balance and the two of you land on the floor. In his defense, you're inside at that point. While the two of you laugh like it's the funniest joke out there, he gives you the corniest grin and just says "uh... nailed it?" You lose it on the spot.

Every day, he says he'll make you breakfast. Every day he oversleeps and you make it for him instead, gently ruffling his hair while he pouts and setting his brew on the nightstand saying "you'll get there, hon." You never really had confidence in that one, but you didn't mind. Making him breakfast first thing in the morning was oddly a charming way for you to spend the first moments of your days. The pride on his face and the surprise on yours when he finally makes good on his promise.

He announces his return. Every. Single. TIME. It's gotten to the point that at a certain hour, when you know his shift's been over for a while now, you just expect it. He even held a grudge when you didn't say "welcome back" that one time. He walked around the apartment all evening, just kicking dust and grumbling. You had the best solution though. "Are you still angry?" "...no." "Ah, well... damn. I guess i'm gonna have to eat these honey glazed donuts with strawberry filling and ALLLLL these sprinkles all by myself." And he just jumps you, hugging you so tightly you feel like you might get crushed. "Over it! Now hand over the goods."

You do not. I repeat, you do NOT sleep separately. Hot outside? Vash will start the fan. You came back late after work and don't want to wake Vash up? Though shit, he's already pulling you down, ignoring your nagging that you gotta shower first. He didn't move in with you, the love of his life, so that one of you ends up sleeping on the couch. Try him, he'll swear he'll throw the damn thing out the window.

Affectionate to the bone, both of you. While more often than not Vash is the one to pepper you with it, you have your moments. And these things can be subtle, too. Sometimes it's just a hand on your hip, a shoulder touching your own. But sometimes it's so much more, like ruffling of hair, or kisses on his beauty mark. He's so grateful for you. And what he's grateful for, he cherishes.

With different work schedules, you tend to miss each other in the morning or in the evening. And when either of you comes back home late, neither of you wants to disturb their sleeping lover. But at some point, you've just developed this... instinct, I guess? Even before the apartment door opens, you just know Vash is back. You stir awake, rubbing the sleep off your eyes with a yawn. Your getting up is lazy and clumsy, tripping over your stretched out night socks. That's okay, Vash is there to make sure you don't kiss the floor. You kiss his cheek instead, and while he nags you to go back to sleep, you just follow him around until you're both back in your shared bed. For all the complaining he does, he can't deny how his heart skips a beat every single time.

I've had fun with this one! Admittedly, I wrote it while I was talking a bus back home from work so it's pretty short. Just something that kept me occupied during the traffic 💕

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[stark-ironman]

Mob Boss Intro

18+ No Minors!!

A/N: I know... I was supposed to post part 3 of the Firefighter AU but I have bad adhd and wrote this instead. If you have any ideas or questions or anything really, send me an ask!!

------

"Shit"

You curse to yourself as you miss the bus, again, due to the fact you had to work late. Working late isn't a problem but when you just recently wrecked your vehicle on top of not having a place to park a bike so it wouldn't get stolen, it became kind of a pain to revolve your life around a bus schedule. You start walking, sticking your hands in your jacket as the winter wind picks up.

Snow starts falling and you look up, cursing some more as you hear a car pull up beside you. "Need a ride?" The guy asks as you keep walking. "No thanks, I'm good." You say not looking back at him. "The news station is calling for a blizzard and I don't think you want to be in it whenever it hits." He tries to reason. "I'm not too far from my house so you can go on ahead." You tell him. "I give you my word I won't hurt you. You could even drive my car if it made you feel safer." The guy states and you stop.

"If I get in the car would it get you to stop pestering me." You ask as he smirks. "Maybe." He chuckles. The snow picks up and you sigh, getting in his car. "Straight to my road and that's it. I'll walk to my house after that." You state as you type the road name in and he starts driving.

"Don't trust me, huh?" He asks with a chuckle. "I don't allow people I don't know to my house." You say. "My name is Tony. Tony Stark." Tony says glancing at you. "Y/N Y/L/N." You mutter. "So see, now we're not strangers." A laugh falls from his lips after saying that. You roll your eyes and look out the window.

"I couldn't help but notice the scrubs. Are you a nurse?" He asks. "Doctor, actually." You correct. "Holy shit, really? Damn." He exclaims. "What? Are you shocked by that?" You ask. "Well shocked that I picked up a doctor on the side of the road." Tony says turning down the road. "Wrecked my vehicle a couple weeks ago so I haven't had a chance to get a new one." You say. "Well I told you what I do for a living so tell me what you do." You say.

He ponders for a bit before saying, "I own Stark Industries and a few other... business." You look over at him and debate on questioning him but decide not to. "Isn't Stark Industries a weapons company?" You ask instead. "Was. Now we manufacture a number of things ranging from science equipment for space to anti-pollution stuff and we just branched out into the medical field actually." He says.

"You must be a pretty smart guy then." You look over at him. "I don't like to brag but since you brought it up, I am." Tony says with a smile.

"Just drop me off up here." You tell him.

He nods and parks on the side of the road.

"I could always just take you home. The storm is getting worse and a doctor like yourself doesn't need to get sick." Tony tries to offer. "I'm pretty sure I can handle a little snow. Thank you for the offer though." Grabbing your stuff, you step out of the car but he stops you. "Can I at least give you my number just in case you ever need a ride again?" He asks.

"I got a feeling you will keep pestering me until I say yes." You groan. He smirks, "I'm a man who likes to take his chances when he sees them." "Fine but I'm not promising to call." You agree, handing him your phone. Tony types his number in and hands it back to you, smiling softly.

"Goodbye, Tony." You say. "Goodbye, Y/N."

You get out and start walking to your house, feeling your phone buzz when you're halfway there.

"Let me know when you make it home. I'm still parked down the road just incase. -T"

That little shit sent himself your number.

[connectionterminated13]

At approximately 12:42 pm on April 12, 2018

Hello there readers I decided to make a little Eleanor short, If you have stumbled across this and do not know the EleaLore, I suggest looking through the Eleanor tag on my Tumblr, But if you are too busy to do that the simple of it is this is my re-imagined version of Eleanor from the fazbear fright books! And this is a short story that I wrote for her. Now this was a Short finished quite quickly so I'm afraid that some of the Editing might not be up to snuff.. So forgive me if you would. And if you won't scroll past.

Please avoid all 2011, Words if you are triggered by:

#Death, slight descriptions of body horror, Religious implications And Eleanor being a silly lady

At approximately 12:42 pm on April 12, 2018 A woman boarded a bus in Oregon. If you asked three of the four other people on the bus what the woman looked like they would have described her simply. She was a pretty woman somewhere in her twenties carrying a backpack and wearing a simple purple dress and A golden heart pendant. Reddish orange hair was tied off in a simple braid. If you had asked Tommy Martins he would have had it a bit more detailed.

Tommy was the talking type, he worked overnight at a cafe downtown and was just going to his night shift when he saw her sit down next to him. And just like the others at first Tommy only really saw a beautiful woman. Yes she was interesting for the fact a lady like her was traveling so late at night but there wasn't really anything off about her until you looked a little closer. And being next to her was close and sure Tommy could have looked away after all he had a girl at home… but there had been something about the woman that had drawn his eye.

Maybe it was something about the way she held herself or the way the dress clung to her like it was stitched onto her body but the more he looked the more things felt wrong. Her skin was just a little bit too smooth and clear. Her hair was just a little bit too Silky and soft. All of the curves of her body were just a little bit too smooth. She looked almost hyperreal, like a woman in the fantasy of some young man. Like someone had airbrushed out all of her flaws, Tommy had thought with a strange shiver.

The woman said nothing, just looked him over like a lion sizing up prey and suddenly Tommy had felt like a jerk. He would have later laughed it off that it was just a trick of the bus light or the late night. He would then have told you he looked away and felt embarrassed and bad about it for the rest of the night.

If you had asked the woman how she felt about Tommy she would have told you he was a worm. After all that's how Eleanor felt about most people. She also probably would have killed you if you asked That night in particular, as she was quite mad. Which honestly didn't make much sense. 

The scam had gone perfectly, not a single hitch in the plan. Sarah was remarkably easy to trick, Eleanor could have probably told the girl she was a flying alien from space and still convinced her that she could grant wishes that she just appeared in the junkyard especially just for Sarah. Sarah was fun to rip apart,  Her flesh made perfect squelching noises and her bones broke easily. And of course it had been fun to stitch together again. 

Shoving things there, taping things here, it was all a good time!

And then being Sarah had been fun too. Sarah was a lonely girl but she got popular when Eleanor made her pretty and so Eleanor was popular and she had friends and they went to the movies and did girl things for 5 months. She let it go a month or two longer than usual because Sarah's Town had enough homeless people that Eleanor could steal Agony from but she could have probably been Sarah for oh give it to 2 years. 

But despite all that she was mad and concerned though she did not let it show on her fake face. She just sat there. Thinking about the sense. 

It was the same one she got when she ran into another of her kind. It was hard to describe in a way a human could understand. It was just an intrinsic knowledge that someone like you was near. But Eleanor had somehow known that this wasn't a close proximity, it was far away and that whatever creature she was sensing was just so big that knowledge of it passed through probably all of the other Agony creatures within the continent.

And all of this came to a point in Eleanor's head. Was this the Lord?

There was bits of evidence that pointed to it. How big in grand the sense was how it seemed to pull her towards it but on the other hand somehow it didn't feel like him. Of course Eleanor had never actually met her god in person so she wasn't completely sure what he felt like. But she knew he probably didn't feel like this.

This sense was like a dull pulsing drum beat in her head dragging her to a place somewhere in Utah. It was probably to assume that whatever this drum was it was beating in the heads of all of her contemporaries dragging them or repelling them away. How many would go like she was now to see where the music Led? How many would run away in fear like they did when she explained to them the Lord?

With a strange jerking motion her face momentarily falling into anger Eleanor thought of the others and how cowardly they all were. Tommy, who had been attempting not to look at Eleanor, found his eyes wandering back to the woman long enough to see her jolt like someone had hit her with a bolt of electricity, Her face temporarily falling into a deep dark red hot rage that later Tommy would never be able to properly describe.

Eleanor for her Parts did not care about what Tommy thought she had fallen back into her soft peaceful facade yet the thought of the Heretics who upon hearing her message head run or laughed at her made her more mad. 

Does them well they're cowards that's what they are little weasels, parasites. Those wild enough not to accept her scripture were weak after all blessed with Consciousness but scared trying to keep it up to care about much else. 

“Okay ma'am?” Tommy Said with an unintentional nervous stutter. 

“Yes, I think I am,” Eleanor said Softly. 

Tommy let out a small “oh” he didn't really know what to say to the woman. she seemed sick even but who was it his business to judge really?

So Tommy sort of shrunk back again up against the window trying not to look at the woman instead focusing on the uncomfortable bus chair with its blue carpet seat and back.

Eleanor continued to look at Tommy. He was scrawny. 40 something. He had the dark tan of a man who spent too much time in the sun. If you were to look at Eleanor you would see all the attributes Tommy had clocked as wrong but you also see the but you also see the glint of a snake in the grass staring down at a stupid little mouse who hasn't noticed the snake behind them sparkling in her eye.

It would have been so easy for Eleanor to reach forward softly and group the man's head in her hands and turn it ever so slightly. To snap those vital bones in his neck so quietly that no one would notice. 

Or if she wanted to have fun she could reach out and stick her hand through his back and out his chest. She could rummage through body and bone until she ripped out that beating black center of Agony that would form somewhere close to his heart. But she did not. 

For Eleanor held herself with the pride many of her species could never for she had a purpose; she served the Lord and what she did was for him. There was no use wasting agony when it could be given to him. That would be what she was doing if she reached over and ripped Tommy to shred. She had a full belly after all there was no need to gorge herself 

Tommy for his part could feel himself start to sweat and made the mistake of Opening up the mouth that over his 45 years of life had cost him so much.

“What's in the bag?” The words came out before Tommy could really think about it. They slipped through his mind and onto his tongue With the smoothness of water through a recently clean pipe.

Eleanor turned to him slowly, maybe she would kill him as a roadside snack after all her nerves were already thin and the man's squeaky voice piping up for a second time began to wear on them.

“Oh nothing, just some things I'm traveling with.” Eleanor unconsciously twirled her braid as Tommy scrambled for what to say next.

“Nice where are you heading? I mean… this late at night. for a lady… like you must be something really important huh?” Tommy wiped the sweat off of his brow it was just a woman and he had started the conversation he had to stop tying his mind in loops!

“But I don't really know. After all it would be a mighty big trip” Eleanor looked languidly out the window examining her fingers, Still covered in flesh at least to the human eye. 

That was the question wasn't? whether she would just go to the next scam or would she Find the center of this sense and convert it if it would listen to reason and if not..

“Well if you got a place in mind I mean you're already on the bus… why not head there! if it isn't too much trouble” The feeling that made Tommy want to squirm out of his skin was lessening. She was just a woman. yeah, sure, maybe a bit of a strange woman… but a normal woman, no less.

“You do make a point but it could be hard and it would take up an awful lot of time.” Eleanor batted her eyelashes slightly for a fact but the sniffling worm was right. Why not? It could even be the lord and her senses were wrong so why not check.

“Well the road on walked, and all that! Why not give it a try, Miss?” Tommy said with the first real and genuine smile he could produce since the woman stepped on board she wasn't that bad he had just been overreacting the night and something about the light had made him see flaws that weren't there.

Eleanor let herself smile too.

The man was right, it would be fun. He was smart for a bag of useless meat. And maybe for this bag of meat who had given her the little push she needed she would dance slightly over the line of her vows. One little snack for the road couldn't hurt.

“Can I have a hug?” Eleanor asked putting on her best puppy dog eyes And if you had seen her you would have done what Tommy did.

Tommy had hugged her gently, with the kindness of a man who thought he was hugging a strange lady with a big trip ahead of her. and after that hug Tommy had been silent until the bus driver had hollered for him to get off. It had only been after about 3 minutes of yelling the bus driver had realized Tommy had finally stopped talking for good 

No one ever asked Tommy's opinion on the night. Though if by some miracle you were able to reanimate his body for a moment he would have told you that as he felt his bones snapping the woman had whispered in his ear. But you can't. So you'll never know what he heard. None of the other men on the bus particularly cared as the woman had gotten off. 

If you had given any of those four men a million dollars to bet none of them would guess that at approximately 2:00 pm on April 12, 2018 The simple pretty woman walked off that bus with poor old Tommy's soul in her pocket and a smile on her face.

[sidekickjoey]

‼️WIP Weekend‼️

I've been tagged in quite a few WIP posts this week, so I figured I'd post a few snippets here to make up for it <3 Not going to follow rules because of the fact this is making up for a lot of missed posts, and this unfortunately will not include my Steddie bang fic because that shall stay ✨secret for now✨ buuuut if you want to see some rules, here are some :)

If you tagged me in anything prior, I love you and thank you!!!

Under The Cut:

Little 'Upside Down Doesn't Exist!AU' drabble set vaguely after S2 based off of this love note Steve wrote to Nancy.

Teacher!Steve AU/meet ugly-ish where Eddie's daughter is his student he's trying (and failing) to help not be so miserable at school.

Silly little scene where Steve, after weeks of begging and pleading, finally lets Eddie drive his car.

No pressure tags: @xpaperheartso @steddieasitgoes and literally anyone else who wants to do this!! Lemme see your fics!

Love Note:

He doesn't know why Steve would do such a thing.

For the record, Eddie's seen Steve do some pretty wild, out-of-left-field things throughout the years. He's seen him put up with Tommy and Carol as if they are palatable (they're not). He's seen him try out for the basketball, baseball, and swim team all in one year (and succeed, the perfect jerk). He's even seen him drop everything to drive the strangest gaggle of kids around Hawkins with a smile on his face -- something the natural high school order of things™ dictates as a social foul of the highest degree.

None of that, though, has ever stumped Eddie as much as this.

"Eddie," the 6x8 note read, previously wedged into his locker, "I want you to know I'm not mad at you. It's okay that you winked at me in the hall last Wednesday. It's better than okay. You looked really upset with yourself when you walked away but you shouldn't be. I liked it. I like you, a lot. I hope you feel the same about me. Steve x"

Eddie has stared at it for what feels like eons.

There just is no way it can be real. In no universe would Steve 'The Hair' Harrington do and say something like this to him, Eddie Munson, lord of the freaks, very much of the male variety and by no means offering much else. Steve says these kinds of things to girls. Pretty girls. Girls like Nancy Wheeler, who have always had their act together and ooze perfect partner material with every flirty look or flourish of their hair. Steve's kindness and admiration has no business being placed in the hands of someone like him when girls like that are roaming around, desperately waiting to become his sweetheart.

So, it has to be a shitty prank.

Teacher:

Steve stood at his perch with the remaining gaggle of kids at the carport when he spotted him, approaching from the left. This man was bounding over breathless, his curly brown hair getting whipped in the wind from that day and making him stumble with each clumsy stride he took. Every nerve in his body was telling Steve the guy meant danger, that he needed to protect his kids. But then, Delilah, little quiet sulking Delilah, let out the most enthusiastic squeal and made a b-line for him. To Steve's amusement and immense confusion, the man did the same back with her and gave her a huge hug.

Leaving his kids with the first grade teacher, Steve went over to investigate.

"Hi, are you, um, Mr. Munson?"

The guy, who had picked up Delilah and tucked her against his hip, suddenly dropped his smile. Clearing his throat, he held the little girl a bit closer. "Yeah, though Eddie's alright for now. Why, uh, why do you ask?"

"I'm Mr. Harrington, Delilah's teacher," Steve said, slowly, desperately trying to figure out in his head why this man was so spooked. "Sorry to pry, but I noticed she was pretty upset all day and showed up alone. Is everything okay? You know, back at home and stuff?"

The guy -- Eddie -- somehow managed to sink further into himself. "Oh, shit. Shit, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Her mom had her for the first time this weekend," Eddie replied, little Delilah burying her head into the crook of his neck. "It's...it's all so new, a-and she must not have realized....shit, I'm so sorry, Mr., um. Shit, what was your name again? Wait, no I got it, Harrington! Yes, Mr. Harrington, listen I swear, I'll walk Delilah in every morning that I can. You hear that, sweetheart?" Rubbing her back, Eddie nuzzled her where she still held him close. Steve's heart broke at the way she seemed to hold him even tighter back. "I'm sorry, we're gonna' make this okay."

Car Stuff:

"You gotta' be careful with her, Eds. She's real special."

"I know, Steve, I know. I won't hurt her."

"She just means a lot to me, and I wouldn't know what to do if something ever happened-"

"I'm driving your car, Steve, not handling your firstborn," Eddie bemoans as he looks to the passenger seat. Steve is sitting there a pile of nerves and, now, about as pink as a tomato from embarrassment.

"I just know how you drive, man."

"Like a bat outta' hell?"

"Yes," Steve deadpans. "With flames chasing it and stuff."

"Aw, you flatter me."

"Eddie."

Giggling with glee, Eddie waves Steve off. His hands grip the steering wheel - a perfect 10 and 2 grip - as he starts the engine, revving it just to add a little more sweat to Steve's brow. One look at the boy and his own white knuckles on the door says it works. His eyes plead to Eddie's.

"She's my only car, man."

Eddie tsks. "You think I'm gonna murder her or something. I'll have you know, I spent a whole summer learning how to fix pretty little things like her up from the point of ruin. Made $400 from the good patrons of Hawkins for my work."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"Nah, just shut you up a little," Eddie teases with a wink. Steve goes pale at his side.

[mlembug]

@oceanaves Generally difficult to make a recommendation to someone you don't know very well - because at this point it's like you partially take a responsibility for the time they spend on reading the thing. This gets even worse when you make a list of works to check out and you make it public, because then people go through recommendation list and go "this sucks, you should feel bad/you should have standards" or "this work has a problematic trope <X>, why are you recommending this", and no amount of disclaimers of me saying "the recommendations are inherently subjective" and "there is no inherently 'nonproblematic' media" stops them.

I'm gonna comment on every manga listed in the other post - in the context of that list keep in mind they're all "very heavily implied trans" rather than "explicitly trans in the text", which was the problem (rightfully) pointed out at the very start.

Kare to Kanojo no Sentaku - to be honest I haven't got a good read on the main character's situation (the one who got affected by the "gender changing syndrome"). It's implied they ran away from home, which would suggest family kicked them out, but also they have this brief moments when looking in the mirror which kinda imply as if the character dislikes their current predicament. It can go in all sorts of ways but so far I like it.

Koisuru (Otome) no Tsukurikata - I personally avoid this because this one had an entire twitter drama surrounding the official translation, and the Discord of the fan translation group who initially did it became incredibly annoying place to be back then; in addition it seems the work not only avoid admiting it, but in fact attempts to deny the trans interpretation (in a ridiculously silly way in fact). It's not a bad work I'd say, but you have to keep in mind the above.

Mahou Shoujo Bu e Youkoso!/Magical Trans! - these two are essentially the same manga. They have minor differences, but the most relevant one is that the first one was self-published, and the second one was published by ebookjapan. Ebookjapan was later bought by Yahoo Japan, and this very likely led to the author being told to wrap it up at chapter 65. It's an excellent manga to read if you like slice of life shenanigans with eggy characters, but don't expect actual plot development. (I have a theory that the reason it won't go anywhere in the gender department is the same reason for why I once wrote a gender bender story with a self-insert MC and I desperately wanted the story to not end with "and then the MC accepts being a girl")

Ikemen Joshi to Josou Danshi - To be honest this one, out of all of them, is the one I could believe the MC is actually a guy (possibly of some genderfluid variety). It's a great manga featuring a role reversal relationship. The only minor complaint I have is that it has this brief moment where MC actually does question his gender, but it is immediately dismissed, rather than actually resolved (and again, I would be just fine with them having a small character arc with them that leads to a conclusion that they are a guy... but at least address it somehow)

Shinyuu Ouji to Koshiginchaku - I read 4 chapters out of 9 that seem to be available at the moment, but I loved them all. Excellent character dynamics combined with an interesting plot.

Also check out the other list I made before.

[lucy90712]

Part 2 of the Gavin parade story please!!!

Part 1

WC: 2.4k

You: hi this is y/n you gave me your number during the parade earlier thank you for the compliment by the way

How cringe I can't believe that's the first message I sent but it's too late to do anything now I'll just have to deal with it and hope that if he replies he doesn't think I'm weird. Oh god what if he never replies and I look like an idiot for thinking that the Pablo Gavi would ever actually want to talk to me. I bet the whole team is laughing about the fact that I actually text him. I don't think I can ever step foot in the camp nou ever again. Just as I was spiralling my phone dinged so I scrambled to the other end of the sofa where I'd left it only to see that one of my best friends had text me asking about today. As I was about to put my phone back down another notification came through this time it was actually from Pablo. 

Gavi: wow I'm surprised you actually text me sorry if that was weird I just had to find a way to talk to you 

You: no it wasn't weird at all it surprised me but it was a nice surprise 

Gavi: good I assume you are a Barca fan so would you like to come to our next home game I would love to meet your properly

You: I would love that thank you so much 

~~~~~~~~~~

I always get stressed a few hours before a Barca game especially when I'm going to the game but this time I barely slept as I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm actually going to properly meet Pablo. I'm really excited as we have been talking over text and have FaceTimed a few times just to get to know each other a bit more and he's the sweetest person but him being so nice coupled with the fact that he's so attractive has meant I've developed a slight crush on him. This is a problem as although he called me beautiful in the message he wrote I feel like he just wants to be friends I mean he has other things to focus on he doesn't need a girlfriend right now let alone one who has her own set of problems to deal with. Our friendship so far has been great and he's a lovely person to talk to so I don't want to ruin that by giving away how I feel and making him feel uncomfortable. 

Thankfully I don't have work today so I have been able to spend the day worrying about this evening without having to worry about work too. Having nothing to do has meant that I have spent far too long deciding on what to wear to the game. I couldn't decide whether to wear a Barcelona jersey or normal clothes as I want to support my team but I don't want to look like an idiot in front of Pablo. In the end I found a good compromise and put on a normal outfit and then put a jersey on over the top as that way I can change if I need to. Then I spent way too much time deciding whether I should put on some makeup and do my hair which ended up with me having a small bit of makeup on and fixing my hair slightly but not going all out. 

When it was time for me to leave I grabbed my phone and my bag and walked to the bus stop as I don't have a car. Taking the bus can be a nightmare on game days but I have worked out a goody system where I get off a few stops earlier and then walk the last part of the journey as it's often quicker due to the amount of traffic. This evening the bus was busier than usual so I had to stand but I didn't mind as I had headphones in and I could look out the window as I zoned out. There was so many people wearing Barcelona jerseys on the streets and many of them had Pablo's name on the back. Seeing all of those fans made it really sink in that in just a few hours I'm going to meet the golden boy of the city which is probably what all of those people dream of doing. Thinking about it that way somehow made me less nervous as I have the opportunity to do something that so many people will never do so I have to make the most of it and not think about how it could all go wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

The game was so amazing, the last home game of the season is always special but this time it felt even more special as the team finally got the trophy. As if things couldn't get any better Pablo scored the last goal at the camp nou as we know it which is really special. With it being such a special match the team celebrated for a bit longer so I waited in the stands with all the fans until I got a text from Pablo telling me to come down to meet him along with where to go as I don't know how to find the locker rooms. As I made my way down there my hands were shaking slightly as I'm so nervous but I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down and put a smile on my face. 

I headed down the corridor and stood outside the locker room ready to text Pablo to tell him I was there but before I could he saw stood in front of me smiling. His smile was so contagious and instantly made me feel completely comfortable around him which I didn't expect. He was quick to bring me into a warm hug which had my stomach filling with butterflies and my cheeks heating up but I tried my best to hide that from Pablo. I felt so at home in his arms it was like we had known each other for years and hadn't just met a few seconds ago I can't believe anyone hates him as he's just the nicest guy. Eventually we both pulled away and he kept smiling at me as he moved to stand an acceptable distance away from me. 

"It's so nice to finally meet you honestly I still can't believe you text me after the parade" Pablo said 

"Sometimes you have to do something spontaneous in life and I'm definitely glad I did" I said 

"I'm glad you did too as now I get to see your beautiful face up close" he flirted 

"Oh um thank you" I replied stumbling over my words and blushing 

As we were talking more of the team left the locker room so he introduced me to them in between our conversations and all of them were super lovely too. Pablo and I stood in the corridor for probably close to an hour just talking to each other before someone asked us to get going so we had to leave but we still kept talking as we walked. 

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?" Pablo asked 

"No I don't" I replied 

"Would you like to come back to my place then?" He asked 

"I would love to" I said 

Once I said yes Pablo got all nervous all of a sudden which made me nervous that I'd done something wrong. He was also mumbling something under his breath which I couldn't hear but I assumed he was talking to himself so I just kept following him thinking that this is something he must do quite a lot as I wouldn't know otherwise. When we made it to the door to the car park he held the door open for me and then I continued to walk with him towards his car. At some point we just stopped walking and he looked at me which really made my heart race as I had no idea what was happening.

"Are you ok?" I asked 

"Is this a date or are we just hanging out as friends?" Pablo asked 

"I um I don't know I'd like it to be a date" I said 

"Then it's a date" he said 

This time as we walked he grabbed hold of my hand which had my heart beating even faster than it was before if that was even possible. He then opened the door to his car for me before going round to get in the drivers side. Luckily by this point it was dark outside and Pablo went out the back exit so no one noticed that I was in the car with him as I was a bit worried about what would happen if we were seen together. Once we were on the road Pablo and I started talking again and this time we were flirting a bit more now that we had established that there must be some feelings there as we are calling this a date. It hasn't really sunk in until we were flirting that I was on a date with Pablo I mean that's what I was dreaming of happening and here we are. The fact that Pablo must actually like me really gave me a lot of confidence to be a bit braver than I would've been earlier. 

The drive to Pablo's place wasn't long and when we arrived he again opened my car door me and then held his front door open to allow me in first like the gentleman he is. He gave me a quick tour of his place before asking if I was allergic to anything so he could make dinner for the both of us. I felt bad that after a long match he was making dinner for me instead of getting to relax but when I tried to help he wouldn't let me so I just sat on the countertop and watched him cook. He was surprisingly good at cooking at no point did I feel like he was going to set the kitchen on fire which I think is pretty good plus he cooked everything for long enough so I wasn't going to die either. 

Once the food was ready he finally allowed me to help as he got me to dish up while he set the table. I should've realised that he was just distracting me as when I went out to the table he had set up candles and made it all romantic. Pablo is really full of surprises as I didn't see him being the type to do something like this but I'm not complaining as it's nice to be treated so well as all of my last dates have been real assholes. We ate dinner quietly but afterwards we went and sat down on the sofa together to play fifa as we both like to play. 

Pablo is a lot better than me at fifa and a lot more competitive so he won every game but I didn't mind as I was having fun and Pablo was enjoying winning. After I lost for the fifth time in a row Pablo seemed to feel bad as he definitely let me win the next game as I could see the smile on his face as he kept giving me the ball and allowing me to score. Once I had won the game he turned the game off and then came back down to sit next to me trying to subtly put his arm around my shoulder but subtlety isn't something he's good at so to make things less awkward I leant my head against his shoulder. He then started playing with my hair very gently which made me smile as I have always liked people playing with my hair. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes before we both looked at each other at the same time. There was a lot of tension between us, if anyone else were to walk in the room it would probably knock them out. Neither of us were quite brave enough to make the first move as once we do we can't go back and we haven't exactly known each other for very long so I'm definitely nervous and I can't imagine how Pablo feels. Just as I was thinking about what could happen if we kissed Pablo began to lean down towards me and pressed his lips to mine. For a few seconds I was taken aback but once my brain caught up with what was happening I kissed him right back. We both pulled away eventually but this time I was brave enough to kiss him again and this time it was much more enjoyable as I was much less nervous. 

After coming down from the excitement of what just happened Pablo turned on the tv so we could half watch some tv while telling stories from our childhood so we could get to know each other on a deeper level. I was enjoying myself but it was getting late and I have work in the morning so sadly I had to leave plus I wanted to make the last bus so I wouldn't have to walk home. 

"Thank you for tonight I've had the best time but I really should head home" I said grabbing my phone from the table 

"Wait did you drive to the stadium as I can drop you back there" he offered 

"No I got the bus but it's fine the last bus leaves soon so I can get that back home" I said 

"Thats not happening I'll drop you home I can't let you go home alone" he said 

"Thank you" I said 

Pablo grabbed his car keys and we got back in his car and I didn't even need to give him my address as he already knows where I live which made it a simple journey. When we arrived he walked up to my apartment with me where we had to say goodbye to each other. Pablo couldn't let me go without brining me in for a hug and kissing me one last time. 

"So what do you say to a second date?" He asked 

"I would love that" I said 

"Great I'll text you tomorrow" he said before leaving 

Once I was finally alone everything that happened today finally sunk in and all I could do was laugh because it just seems so ridiculous but I did actually just go on a date with the Pablo Gavi. Sometimes life is crazy and doesn’t go the way you think it will but tonight I learnt that that’s not always a bad thing. 

[theglitchywriterboi]

The Life And Times Of A Power Dealer

Issue Zero

AUTHORS NOTE: This is a really rough draft I wrote at like 7AM on no sleep & in a format I generally don't write in [first person kinda talking to the audience]. So apologies for any mistakes

I'm not a drug dealer per se… Yes, I do sell things that, to some, may be considered drugs due to the fact they do alter your physical &/or mental capabilities. And yes, the selling of these items may not technically be legal but… Okay, maybe I am a drug dealer.

But what I sell isn't traditional drugs. What I sell gives people… Abilities. Whatever power you want, I probably have on deck. & if I don't, for the right price, I can in a few days.

Superspeed? Obviously. Shape-shifting? You might as well ask if the supermarket has bottled water. Flying? Of course!

See, a few years ago - nine to be exact, about 6% of the population gained Superpowers. Some got only one, but were very powerful - like being so strong they’re able to fold a bus as if it were a piece of paper. Others got several, but were weak - like being able to blow bubbles & being able to float two inches off the floor. Not many people could do it sure [and given how rare powers were in general, may make people - especially kids, stunned], but not really useful, or flashy.

Of course there were others that varied. Some got one weak power - one guy I know can teleport. One inch at a time.

And before you think it’d somehow still be faster than walking, its not. Powers use energy - if you train enough its not super exerting, but when you teleport less than the average step, while simultaneously using up more energy than a step, it’s kinda pointless to train.

Then theres people with multiple strong powers. Super strength & being able to breathe fire. Or being able to control water & the ability to fly as high as you want.

Naturally, some non-powered individuals [and some with subpar powers] are upset they got the short end of the stick.

I can’t blame them to be fair.

So, thats where I come in.

I lucked out, having a few fairly overpowered abilities. The main two relevant for you to know right now though, are: Hyper intelligence, and being able to clone myself.

The government, both the new superpower branch & the normal branch, don’t like people having powers, so they try to keep it suppressed. Ironically, by hiring those with powers [because how can someone with no powers go up against someone who can turn your body inside out?

I make ability supplements. Any way you want them. Some want a patch, others want pills, the weird few want it to be powered - I really hope they’re making a “Super power drink” not snorting it, but once the sales done, it’s none of my business.

Cute story, one guy came in & he wanted a very specific order. Format was glitter, and you cant absorb the power through latex gloves, & once the glitter touches the ground [carpet or grass], it no longer has the power in it. He wanted two powers in it: The ability to fly about six feet off the ground & invincibility. Flying to last two hours & the invincibility to last two & a half hours. He got five doses to take home.

A few days later he comes back absolutely beaming. Turns out his kids [two daughters & a son] fell in love with the Peter Pan movie, so he & his husband dressed in their best Peter Pan outfits, and sprinkled the glitter - or Pixie dust as far as the kids know, on top of all their heads.

He showed me a video - while I wouldn’t recommend videoing yourself using my products [seeing as its a crime & you never know when a bootlicking superpowered motherfucker may somehow access your phone & see your video] it was very adorable. When he showed me he gave a big tip, which most usually don’t, especially after the fact.

Unfortunately, not all customers have such sweet intentions. But once again, after the sale is finalized, what they do is none of my business. Though since I’m still a small timer, there haven’t been any big crimes committed by the people who solicit my services. As far as I know at least.

Being able to clone yourself comes in all forms. Some have what I like to call “Instant spawn”. Basically, versions of themselves spawn near The Origin [the non-clone version] - surrounding a person they're going to attack, different parts of the room, whatever. Traditionally somewhere in proximity to The Origin, though it is incredibly rare for someone to make a clone in lets say Moscow while they're in Seattle. Possible, but again, rare.

Others have my favorite, “The walk out”. Basically the clones seemingly [or literally maybe] walk out of the The Origin. Generally those with that kind stand still while their clones walk out of The Origin but others like to be flashy, making their clones walk out as they walk/run.

The kind I have is… Okay. I call it the meditation method. I close my eyes, generally I sit crisscross or lay down, then my clones walk out of me. Similar to the previous method I suppose, but I have to have my eyes closed & if The Origin [myself in this case] is disturbed - whether I open my eyes voluntarily or I’m attacked, my clones snap out of existence.

I & most people who can clone themselves, retain all the information & memories that our clone went through.

Anyway, I should get onto telling the happenings of my life instead of rambling about powers [I will do more rambling, apologies in advance, but also… You read this & made an active choice to keep reading…].

It all started with an angry father. Different father than the cute story guy [and not his husband either].

[masterwords]

probably lucky i'm alive

Summary: Derek drives Hotch home from New York (coda to 4x01 - Mayhem) and their car breaks down. It's a comedy of errors but they make the best of it.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 10.5k

Warnings: concussion, bomb mentions, death mention, grief, vomit...Hotch is a whole mess. It's all canon based so if you know the episode you probably have an idea what to expect. Except you know, Hotch is actually hurt in a more realistic way after having a car explode in his face so he is suffering.

Notes: Another Mayhem story. Yep! You're welcome. I think this is my favorite one to date, if that tells you anything. Thank you all for putting up with me! (I wrote this for the "only one bed" prompt for Day 5 of @criminalmindsweek but it took me forever and totally got away from me. They do have to share one bed it just takes 10k words to get there.)

Read on AO3: probably lucky i'm alive

**

Steam or smoke, that’s the game his mom used to play when her car would go on the fritz. If it’s steam, she’ll make it. Her car will be toast but she’ll probably get to her destination. If it’s smoke, she has to pull over right away before it’s in flames. They went through a lot of beaters when Derek was little, it was more economical for his parents to drop $250 on a new car that would limp them through a few months to a year than to fix problems that would arise on any of them. Fixing anything would have been more than most of the cars were worth.

After his father died, they just started taking the bus for a long time. They didn’t have to play the game with the city bus.

Derek hasn’t ever had to play that game with any of his cars. He’s made damn sure of it. But now he’s playing it with a government issue SUV that should be in tip top shape. He’s playing it on a long road trip back home after a really bad case, a road trip that really just needed to go smoothly. He glances at the dash, checks for indicator lights, checks the engine temperature and the oil pressure. Nothing is indicating that it’s an immediate thing, not yet. The car’s precious sensors haven’t registered what the problem is.

Hotch is asleep in the passenger seat. He’s been asleep since they crossed the New Jersey state line. They’d been talking, just awkward small talk that felt forced until he sort of went quiet. Got a faraway look on his face and then let his eyes drift closed. Derek was glad for it. They’d never had trouble talking before, hell they were practically inseparable from the moment they met but the last few weeks things have been challenging and it came to an explosive climax in New York. Derek thought driving him home might fix it. Or at least put them on the right path.

The trajectory they were currently maintaining was not supportable long term. Something had to give.

After a little too long convincing himself that it’s definitely steam and it’s disappearing, it’s fine, he’s absolutely certain that what is coming out from beneath the hood in fine little tendrils is in fact smoke. And those fine little tendrils are taking on more substance as the miles tick by. There’s no shoulder to pull over on, not here, so he angles the SUV toward the next exit and tries to get them to a safe place to pull over before the engine erupts in flames.

After the night they had, this is about the worst thing he can think of to happen.

“Smoke,” Hotch mumbles, shifting in his seat. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet but the smell has permeated the vehicle now. “Is that smoke?”

“Yeah, hold tight I’m finding a spot to pull over. Dammit.”

The last thing Hotch needs to see after last night is another SUV in flames and Derek is right, the minute the other man registers what is happening his entire body goes rigid. He’s doing his best not to show it and maybe if it were anyone but Derek they might not see it right away it but he knows better. He knows Hotch better.

“It’s all good, man,” he says in as calm a voice as he can muster when he knows he’s pulling them off of the highway in the middle of nowhere. It’s not really the middle of nowhere, they’re just in that stretch of no man’s land between townships, a place where cell reception is weak at best because you don’t stop here you zip right on through. Unless your SUV starts billowing smoke and making creaking, popping and hissing noises. Hotch squeezes his eyes shut and Derek worries that he’s on the verge of a panic attack but he quickly pulls himself back out of it and looks straight ahead. Trains his eyes on the horizon. There are a few sparse patches of trees among an endless sea of cropped green grass, buildings off in the distance but nothing nearby.

“That doesn’t look good.” Hotch deadpans it, but Derek can hear a little tremor in his voice. He manages to angle the vehicle off the road enough not to be a burden but he can’t justify driving it any further, they’re dangerously close to seeing flames. He can feel the heat against his knees. It would be just his luck to have it erupt while they were both still in it. Lucifer’s poetic justice.

“Yeah, okay it’s not good but we’re fine. She’s overheating. Probably a coolant thing. I’ll take a look as soon as it’s safe, just relax okay?”

Easier said than done. Hotch is watching the smoke curl out from the seams and the smell of it is making him sick to his stomach, taking him back to the night before. To standing on the street watching his vehicle burn. Derek puts his hand on Hotch’s shoulder, a reassuring weight, and squeezes.

“Really. It’s just the engine being a shit head. Nothing to worry about. Worst case scenario we call a tow truck and hitch a ride somewhere to wait.”

Hotch doesn’t move beneath the weight of Derek’s hand, and for a beat too long Derek leaves it there. “Come on, let’s hop out huh? I’m gonna pop the hood and let it air out, see if I can get a feel for it.”

“Do you know anything about this engine?” Hotch has his doubts, but ultimately he does trust that Derek won’t make it worse anyway. A smoking engine seems about as bad as it can get, at least with the vehicle still in one piece.

“I know my way around under the hood.” He smirks a little and catches Hotch doing the same, a brief but welcome change in mood.

He can tell where the problem is, and has a pretty good idea of what needs to happen, but he also knows he can’t fix it. They need a few parts and a lot more experience than he has tinkering around with broken old cars. Maybe if it was a Ford Pinto with carburetor troubles, he could manage it. A faulty alternator? Or a broken muffler that needs a patch job. He became his mother’s personal home mechanic at a young age, helping her limp her broken cars along until payday after his father’s death. Becoming the man of the house at 10 came with a steep learning curve, but as he pops this hood and the smoke obscures the world around him he can only cough and shake his head. Whatever is causing this much upheaval is beyond his limited mechanical abilities. These vehicles are all computerized, he’s

Hotch coughs and covers his nose and mouth with his forearm, turning away from the acrid smell before he really does get sick. Out of the corner of his eye he watches Derek poke around, hiss as the oil cap burns his fingertips and step back. He massages his aching shoulder and sighs.

“Gotta call for a tow. This old girl is toast.”

Hotch’s phone is broken.

Not just broken. Obliterated. It had been in his pocket during the blast and shattered on impact, he’s got a slice on his upper thigh from the broken screen. Derek pulls his out and frowns.

“Of course. No service. I’m gonna take a little walk, shouldn’t be too far. Just sit tight.” Derek starts walking right away, doesn’t even wait for Hotch’s response but he can hear uneven footsteps behind him. Limping, he’s limping and he won’t stop. “Hotch. Come on. Just wait here.”

Hotch scowls and it looks a little scarier with all the bruises and cuts on his face. Derek stops long enough just to lock eyes with him. “The last time you disappeared you drove an ambulance rigged to explode into Central Park.”

“Ahh, very funny. Good one. Thought I was gonna have to wait a year for you to pull that one outta your pocket. Feel better now?”

Hotch smirks and limps behind Derek for a few more steps, not exactly keeping up but moving away from the still smoking vehicle. He’d like to put a little distance between the SUV and his body.

“Hotch. Stay with the car, dammit.”

“No.”

“Hotch. You can barely walk. I’m just gonna go until I’ve got enough service to call for a tow truck, I’ll be right back. Just rest okay?” He no longer sounds sharp or authoritative, just pleading. He’s worried, there’s no hiding it now. Acute acoustic trauma and shrapnel in his leg. There’s no way that’s all of it, Derek can see it plain as day. “You need to take it easy.”

It’s true, he can barely walk. But he suspects Derek can see something that looks dangerously like PTSD in him when he looks back at the smoke plume emerging from beneath the hood of the SUV. And that changes Derek’s mind, he realizes why Hotch wants to move away from it. He can’t fault him for that. Derek doesn’t want to smell smoke right now either. They’ve both had their fill of vehicles and fire.

“Okay, man. You can come with. It’s not like we have anywhere we gotta be. Just tell me if you need to take a rest or something okay? I don’t know how far we’ll have to go to get a signal and you look like shit.”

Hotch won’t say a word. He’ll just limp along with his lips set in a grim line, forcing one foot in front of another no matter how badly it hurts. The further they go the slower he walks, and Derek is checking his phone almost obsessively, willing that stupid little triangle to fill with bars so they can stop. So Hotch will rest.

They talk about nothing. Just bullshitting. Hotch can’t hear very well, his ears are ringing and his head is pounding but he keeps up the best he can. It’s nice, he thinks, being alone with Derek when there isn’t anything really on the line. They’re easing back into that comfortable space again.

“Remember when our car broke down in buttfuck Idaho?” Derek asks, slowing his pace a little. He’s conscious about which side of Hotch he walks on, makes sure he’s near the good ear. The less bad ear, maybe. The one that isn’t crusted with flecks of dried blood. The one that Hotch doesn’t reach up and cover every time a car whizzes by on the interstate nearby. “On that huge stretch of nothing highway?”

“It was 98 degrees,” Hotch says quietly. “But it felt like 150 out on that blacktop. I remember thinking the soles of my shoes were going to melt before we got help.”

“It’s always you and me. Been on a hundred road trips with Reid, never a problem. A few with Em, with Jayj, even Rossi. But you and me? It’s like disaster follows us. My blisters were out of control.”

“Mine too. My socks were full of blood. Dress shoes and socks are not ideal for July in hell.”

“I’m not sure any shoes would have been ideal. That was a nightmare.”

It’s not hot now, the walk is almost pleasant. They’re walking on a stretch of road that butts up to an expanse of green, maybe grass, maybe something else. It’s autumn but the leaves haven’t started changing much yet. There’s a crisp breeze that keeps them comfortable while they walk, it’s nice and keeps them comfortable. Derek keeps checking his phone obsessively, every step he expects he’s moved into a sweet spot. It finally happens about ten minutes in and he stops abruptly.

“Got some bars, I’m gonna get us a tow truck. Pop a squat, man.”

Hotch listens this time. He lowers himself down into the cool grass in the shade of a small tree and leans his back against the trunk. It does feel good to take the weight off of his sore leg. The shrapnel tore through his shin and his knee is swollen, he isn’t even sure why. Maybe if he’d let the doctor really check him over he might not be so surprised when a new pain rears its ugly head...but it doesn’t matter. If he had let the hospital continue checking him out, they would all have died. For once his impatience with doctors, at hospitals, at all of it paid off. His stubborn refusal to play by their rules saved lives.

He doesn’t fancy himself a martyr, he didn’t do it for him, but the unexpected kickback wasn’t so bad.

“Okay. Half hour. We got time to hoof it back to no man’s land even at your snail’s pace.” Derek extends a hand and helps Hotch back to his feet, noticing the way he favors his knee. His entire left leg, really. It seems to be getting worse. “You good to walk back or you need another minute?”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure? I can piggy back you.”

“I’m fine Derek.”

Derek isn’t surprised to hear Hotch say that, he expected nothing else. If Hotch ever owned up to really feeling like shit, he would know they were all doomed. He could read the vocal inflections, though. There were certain tonal changes that he could detect easily, the words were superfluous at best.

“Good,” Derek says, but he starts them out at a slower clip and Hotch notices but says nothing. He appreciates the more leisurely pace. They’re really starting to find their way back now and it’s an easy, comfortable thing. He’s missed this comfort. Adrian Bale’s bomb blasted it to pieces and they never really bothered to put it back together, just mended what they could quickly and let the rest settle where it lay. Hotch didn’t realize until now how badly he really needed this, Derek’s friendship, this closeness. Someone who knows him intimately and more importantly doesn’t take his shit.

“Hey. I’m sorry about Joyner,” Derek says to break the silence. It’s on both of their minds and Derek doesn’t want Hotch thinking that he’s glad she’s dead, or that he isn’t busted up about it. She died on his watch and he’s feeling the weight of it. He’s responsible, culpable. At least in his own mind. They might have had some friction but she was a good Agent and he hated the way everything went down. That she probably died thinking he was a hot head, an asshole. “How well did you really know her?” He heard Emily and JJ talking of course, he’d heard it all but he wants to hear it from Hotch’s mouth. He wants to get Hotch talking, make him open up before he suffocates.

“She came over and worked in Atlanta during the 1996 Summer Olympics when she was with Scotland Yard,” Hotch says, slowing his pace a little. He’s worn out. Pain is exhausting. “She was young and eager, we share a lot of the same traits.” His head is swimming and his chest feels tight. He realizes he just referred to her both in past and present tense and there’s a squeezing sensation as his heart thumps that he doesn’t like. “I was a new recruit with the Bureau and volunteered for some security detail, it seemed like an interesting assignment and would pad my resume. I joined later than most people do, I guess I wanted to make up for lost time. We met at that time and became friendly. When I joined the BAU she called me for a consult on a serial killer she had in London, they didn’t have the resources on behavioral science that we did. I wrote her a letter of recommendation when she decided she wanted to join the FBI not long after.”

“Did you keep in touch?”

“Not well. Haley admitted that she was threatened by my friendship with Kate, so out of respect for her I didn’t pursue it. I wouldn’t have…”

“I know. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I think I do. I heard the way Prentiss and JJ were talking about Kate and I. And after the way things happened in New York, how the two of you...I owe you an explanation.”

“Nah. It’s good. Really. I never thought you slept with her, not if you were married to Haley. Now...whether you wanted to or not...well that’s none of my business, but I didn’t think you actually did.”

“Maybe an apology, then.”

“Yeah, I’d take an apology…” Derek smiles. He’s not sure he deserves to get one any more than he needs to give one, he thinks everything kind of came out in the wash. But if it’ll make Hotch feel better to offer it, he won’t turn it down. He’d been so angry. He could still feel the last embers of that fire in his belly, the way Hotch looked at him and told him to take a walk, told him it wasn’t his place...yeah an apology didn’t sound half bad.

“An apology then. I’m sorry, Derek. I should have been more open with you. Kate pulled me aside when we arrived and told me that they had their eye on you, that her job was on the line.”

Derek nods and picks up the pace when he sees that there’s a car pulled over beside theirs and someone looking in the windows. The road is deserted, there’s no reason for anyone to be out here unless they were broken down. He didn’t expect anyone to stop and couldn’t remember if he bothered to lock the vehicle. Wouldn’t that just be his luck? Break down on the side of the road and abandon a government vehicle full of case files and other sensitive materials with easy access. Like a big neon sign saying come rob me.

“Hang back a sec,” Derek says, and Hotch grunts his displeasure at being coddled.

“Derek, I’m perfectly capable of...”

“Dammit Hotch. Just listen to me for once okay?” He might be a little too sensitive, but after the case they just put a pin in he’s not sure he trusts anyone that isn’t on his immediate team. The world is fucked and he’s just trying to get them home safely. It feels like things are spinning wildly out of control, a car bomb, the ambulance, their SUV breaking down and now this guy wants to poke around in their business? He’s about to go off and he doesn’t even know what the guy is doing yet.

Derek’s hand is on his weapon as he approaches. He’s an open guy, loves to smile and make friends, but now is not the time. He might be feeling a little over protective of Hotch, and maybe that’s not even warranted but he’s going to listen to his gut right now and remain on alert.

“Saw the car pulled over, thought someone might need help…” The guy smiles, but his body language isn’t friendly. The way he stands tall feels like an attempt at intimidation.

“We’re good buddy. Already got a tow truck on the way. Thanks for checking.”

The man takes a step forward and stares Derek down. Even from his vantage point Hotch knows this is trouble – messing with Derek right now is bound to get messy. “How do I know this is your vehicle?”

Hotch’s head swims and his knees start to buckle. He stands there, comes completely still and he curses his body for its terrible timing. It takes this moment to turn on him? The smell of smoke still emanating from the car doesn’t help, it’s taking him back to a moment in time he’d rather forget. He plants his feet and considers reaching for his weapon too but for the time being, he listens to Derek. The sound of his voice. He’s still in control of the situation. The SUV is full of confidential documents, full of weapons, full of things this man shouldn’t see and he has no idea if he’s been picking through it. Derek is wracking his brain and for the life of him can’t remember if he locked the SUV before they left.

“It’s mine and that’s all you need to know. Back off.”

Derek and the other man are bristling now, too close for comfort. Derek produces the key fob and clicks it, flashing the lights on and then off with a sarcastic smile. Of course, it occurs to him a moment too late that now he’s clicked it he’ll never know if it was locked or unlocked when the interloper arrived. “See?”

“That don’t prove a thing. You coulda found those keys on the side of the road.”

Hotch is about two seconds from being sick all over the ground, and on sheer will alone he manages to produce his FBI credentials before he goes limping toward the two of them. His knees are about to buckle but he’s going to fix this situation without violence first. He’s in no condition to jump into a fist fight, let alone draw his weapon, but there will be no choice if the man goes after Derek.

“This vehicle is ours, sir. There’s a tow truck on the way to help us. I appreciate your concern but it’s under control.”

The man leers at Hotch, and then at his badge, and back at him skeptically. He’s a whole mess of a man with scrapes and bruises on his face, favoring one leg heavily, he looks like the kind of guy who broke out of a hospital. He wouldn’t be hard to take, and Hotch can see him calculating the risk while he studies the credentials. “We’ve got everthing under control.” Hotch repeats himself, a little more firm, rising up to his full height against the angry protest of broken ribs. Recognition flashes in the man’s features, he believes Hotch now. He looks like FBI, there’s not a question in the man’s mind as he takes in the suit and tie, the severity of his set features.

He hesitates though, one last flash of indecision. The items in the vehicle are tempting, whatever they are. And he wants to fight Derek, he wants to do that badly, maybe for no other reason than he doesn’t like his smug face. Still, he gets into his vehicle and drives off without another word, at least not another that either of them can hear. Derek rifles through their things, makes sure nothing is missing while Hotch collapses in the passenger seat with his head in his hands willing the lightheaded feeling and the intense screaming pain in his skull to pass. They never said he had a concussion but he’s no stranger to that, he knows exactly what it feels like.

“You locked it,” Hotch says quietly through his fingers, not looking up.

“You sure?”

Hotch doesn’t want to say why he’s sure, but his body knows he heard that sound. Every part of his body is certain. He felt it in his teeth. “I’m sure.”

Derek pops his head up from the file box in the back and studies Hotch curiously, like he’s putting it together somehow. PTSD. The letters float around and bash into one another in his head, they flash like a neon sign. Hotch is suffering and he doesn’t know how to help him, not out here. Maybe not at all. “You good?”

“I’m okay.”

“Does it ever occur to you not to lie?” Derek asks, sitting down on the edge of the bumper when he’s satisfied everything is intact. The SUV tilts his direction briefly and stabilizes. Hotch lets out a strangled laugh that makes his chest hurt. It would never occur to anyone but Derek to ask him a question like that. They might think it, but no one would ever say it. Not even Dave, he would just raise an eyebrow in that silent judgmental way he has but he wouldn’t make a peep. Derek blurts it out and damn the consequences.

“In my experience, it’s better this way.” He pauses and smirks. “Don’t profile that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He’s already doing it. There’s no way around it. But he smiles and shrugs like it’s nothing important, like everything is casual and cool.

It’s closer to an hour by the time the tow truck finally shows up and Hotch is reclined in the passenger seat with his arm thrown over his eyes, sick to his stomach. The smell of smoke has permeated everything and he can’t get far enough away, it’s in his clothes now. His best bet has become simply not moving, instead focusing on breathing in and out through his mouth. Moving makes his head swim, makes his brain feel like its come dislodged. They’d been talking at first, but after a while Derek quieted down, like he thought Hotch might get some sleep if he just left him alone. When the driver arrives, Derek catches him before he even gets halfway to the SUV. They go through the paperwork together at the end of the tow truck, far enough away that their voices don’t carry all the way to the SUV. He knows Hotch isn’t asleep but operating under the guise that he’s helping in some way makes him feel better about the situation they have found themselves in.

“Hey,” Derek says, tapping Hotch gently on the shoulder. “He’s about to hook us up then we’re outta here.”

“Thanks.” Hotch doesn’t move until the SUV rocks beneath him and the sound of metal grating against metal fills the air. With one hand pressed against a sudden pulsing in his forehead, Hotch falls out of the side of the car and stumbles away as quickly as his legs will carry him. He’s aware that it probably looks funny, like Igor lurching through Dr. Frankenstein’s castle, but he can’t get away from the sound fast enough. Every scrape and bang makes his skull feel like it’s coming apart at the seams.

“Hotch?”

He raises his hand, tries to keep Derek back. He doesn’t want to be touched right now, he doesn’t want anyone near him. He walks away faster and leans against a tree, breath heaving angrily in his chest. It’s getting hard to pull in enough and he’s aware of just how close he is to passing out. His vision has narrowed to a pinpoint.

“He okay?” the driver asks, thumbing in the direction of Hotch when Derek walks back. He’s concerned, rattled, but he’s got to mask that and pretend like it’s fine. Just get them out of there. That’s his only objective, get them the hell off the side of the road. His only consolation through all of this is that he’s glad it’s him and not Agent Davis out here with Hotch. She’ll be glad when he tells her about it, too. Tells her how she dodged a bullet.

“Oh, uh yeah. Rough night. You know how it is.”

The driver chuckles and shakes his head like he gets it. Like it was a night of hard partying. Derek is content to let him think it’s as simple as a hangover. He wishes it was just a hangover. That this could be fixed with some Tylenol and hashbrowns.

“You guys need a ride somewhere or you got someone coming for ya?”

“If you got one,” Derek says with a smile. “We’ll take it.” He sprints over to where Hotch is hugging the tree for dear life and grabs him, practically pulling him toward the truck. “Guy thinks you’re rocking a wicked hangover. Just go with it.”

Hotch nods, or tries to anyway but the movement is too much so it’s stunted and he stops, miserably resting his forehead against Derek’s shoulder for a moment. He leans heavily on Derek while they walk, willing his body not to give out on him, not here on the side of the road, not in front of a perfect stranger. Doesn’t have much choice though, if it’s going to it’s going to and that’s just how it goes. He’s about out of energy to control the way things go.

In the truck, Derek slides into the middle seat and lets Hotch take the window. He rests his head against the cool glass and closes his eyes, hands clasped in his lap. Giving some kind of an image that he’s got it together, that he’s not a dead man walking. As the day wears on, he becomes more and more aware that there is more wrong with him than he’s been willing to admit or explore. All he wants is a bed and a few hours of sleep, convinced that will fix the worst of it.

The engine is too loud and Hotch instantly feels sick when the pain strikes. He can’t get away from it, he’s trapped in the truck and the sound is a hot knife picking around in his brain. The driver smiles and turns the radio on, unaware of Hotch’s plight. He’s not going to say anything. “There’s a little motel next to the truck stop a few miles up ahead. They can fix your car up at the mechanic shop a little further down, you boys can stay the night at the motel if you need to and there’s a greasy spoon right there too. One stop shop.”

“Good deal, man. Thanks for coming out. You’re a lifesaver.”

It’s hard to rest in someone else’s vehicle. They’ve seen too much. Derek does his best to form a sort of human shield between the driver and Hotch, just in case anything gets weird. Hotch is vulnerable and it’s just radiating off of him, he can’t hide it anymore. It’s going to be pretty obvious it’s more than just a hangover soon and no Derek doesn’t exactly think the tow truck driver is a serial killer but he’s still on edge. It’s in his nature to be suspicious.

So, he talks. He strikes up every conversation with the driver he can think of until they arrive at the mechanic shop. It’s an hour before they get there, and he’s not sure if Hotch slept a wink but he didn’t say one single word the whole time. He was just lost inside of his head, willing the pain to settle, willing his body not to give out entirely before he has somewhere to crash.

The mechanic shop is small, derelict vehicles practically piled up all around it. Half junkyard, half mechanic from the looks of it and the land it sits on stretches as far back as the eye can see. It doesn’t instill confidence in Derek that the mechanic shop is surrounded by acres of junked cars and trucks but he doesn’t have much choice. “You saw the motel we passed? It’s nothin’ special but they got beds.”

“I did,” Derek says, not giving it much thought. They can just call someone back at Quantico for a ride but he’s not going to say that. The guy has been more than helpful, he’s been kind, he had great taste in music. Derek found himself enjoying the ride when he could stop himself from worrying about Hotch for a minute or two.

“Hope it don’t take them too long to fix you boys up. Feel better, buddy. Get you some gatorade and some greasy food. They got biscuits and gravy over there that’ll cure anything.”

Hotch doesn’t think either of those things will fix his problems but he thanks the man anyway. What he really needs is a bed and a week long nap. He’s starting to feel completely detached from his life. Like he’s just out here bumping into things, un-tethered, and everything hurts.

While the mechanic checks out the vehicle, runs a complete diagnostic, Derek calls Penelope. He knows he should probably call Strauss first, or Rossi maybe but he calls Penelope because he’s about as anxious as he can possibly be and he needs to hear her voice. She’s been sending him a barrage of texts all morning, most of which he isn’t even seeing until right now because he’s been in and out of service.

“I can try to send a car but it’ll be about 6 hours before they can be there,” she says. “They’re all being used right now. That is if Strauss even approves it. She’s going to throw a fit about you guys breaking this car after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, like any of that last night was our fault. Plus we didn’t break this car, we didn’t do anything but drive it.”

“Be that as it may, sunshine, light of my life, she’s going to blow a gasket. Much like your vehicle. Do you want me to try and get someone up there? Or if you don’t mind waiting I can drive up when I finish here...”

“Six hours?” he asks, frustrated. “Nah. I don’t want you driving all the way up here like that and I don’t think Hotch will fit in your car anyway. We’ll just stay the night, drive this car back if they can get her road ready or figure something else out tomorrow. I don’t think Hotch is up for any more excitement. He’s dead on his feet, I just need to get him somewhere quiet and leave him be.”

“That bad?”

“I think the sound of the tow truck hooking up our SUV almost killed him. He’s a wreck.”

It’s a slow walk to the motel, and Derek is avoiding telling Hotch that there isn’t anyone coming to get them. Right now Hotch just thinks they’re going to find somewhere to sit, maybe grab a bite to eat and wait it out. He’s got to find a way to break it to him that they’re stranded. The way Hotch is walking, it’s doubtful he’ll mind much when met with the alternative: a bed. Right here. The motel looks quiet enough, nothing fancy but it’ll have a bed and a shower and by the looks of it, blackout curtains. It all seems like a recipe for sleep if he can get Hotch there without a fight. He doesn’t look he has any left in him.

“Is someone coming to pick us up?” Hotch asks.

“Nah. It was gonna be like 6 hours at best, then we got 4 more hours in the car. Garcia offered to drive up when she’s off work but I figure we just stay the night here and get back on the road in the morning, that guy said it should be an easy fix, at least enough to get us home in one piece.”

Hotch isn’t keen on the motel thing and the “one piece” bit doesn’t instill him with confidence, but Derek does make a good point about waiting until morning. He’s beat and as much as he’d like to tell Derek he’s fine, that excuse wore itself out hours ago.

The motel room has pink floral comforters and turquoise carpets. It’s an eyesore. The blankets are scratchy and thin, and the rooms smell like cigarette smoke but Derek was right, the blackout curtains covered a multitude of sins. They could sleep the afternoon and the night away if they so desired. They were able to splurge with their per diem and each get their own room, adjoined by a thin door just in case. Derek insists that the door remain unlocked, just in case. Strength in numbers. He’s really just laser focused on the fact that Hotch isn’t as okay as he wants everyone to believe.

“You hungry? There’s a greasy spoon attached...I could go for a burger and fries. We can try to blow your hangover away.”

Hotch forces a smirk at that and nods. He is hungry, and the last meal he ate was long enough ago that he couldn’t remember exactly when or what it was. And if he eats then he can take the percocet the doctor so kindly prescribed. That should have been a dead giveaway that his body was a complete mess if the doctor, who barely had a chance to look him over, would prescribe such big guns.

The diner is small, only a few booths scattered inside of a dark room. The roar of the semi-truck engines outside the window echoes in Hotch’s head and he rests his head on his hand, covering his painful ear carefully. Trying to be casual about it so he doesn’t alarm Derek. The man has been making too much fuss today. Touching it hurts but that’s less than when sound enters therefore better.

“What happened in the ambulance?” Hotch asks, sliding a fry absentmindedly through his ketchup. He wasn’t as hungry when he sat down as he thought so he stuck with a turkey sandwich and a side of fries. A safe bet. Derek talks on the third pass through the red glob, waiting for Hotch to finally put the damn thing in his mouth instead of playing with it.

“Garcia blocked the cell signal with her crazy magic just long enough for me to get the ambulance away from people. I jumped out and booked it out of there just before the thing went up. Don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life. You know those stories about the moms lifting cars off of their kids to save their lives? It felt like that. An out of body kind of thing I guess. I jumped and rolled and somehow got right to my feet and just ran like fuckin’ Forest Gump. Wish you coulda seen it.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Nah, I’m alright. A little sore but it’s all good. This is what I work out for, right? I got far enough away before it went up.” He pauses and sips his water, willing Hotch to just eat the damn fry. The poor thing is about ready to break off and sink into the ketchup like it was quicksand. “You would have died, Hotch.”

“What?”

“I know you were gonna do it and there is no way you would have gotten away from it in time. You can barely walk. As soon as we realized what was going on, I knew you were gonna try to drive it outta there and everyone would have let you. Hell, you drove it in, you already knew the thing, and you’re Hotch. Right? They all think you can’t get hurt, you’re invincible, nothing happens to Hotch. No one would have argued with you.”

“You would have.”

“You’re damn right I would have, but you know what happens then? We die arguing. Everyone dies. The arguments we get into get pretty epic. No time for that, man. I had to stop it before it got to that. If you want, we can go at it now.”

“I don’t.” He finally bites into the fry and Derek grins like he’s just won a prize.

“Not even a little? Come on...I know you’ve got something to say...”

“You already win.”

Yeah, Derek thinks. Hotch is in bad shape. Not even willing to argue.

Derek wants to say something else, something helpful or positive, he’s not sure exactly what but he’ll wing it...his phone buzzes just before he has a chance to open his mouth. Hotch takes the opportunity to drag himself out of the booth and limp toward the hostess stand to pay the tab. Derek sighs and glances down at his phone, not overly interested in answering it but it’s Spencer and he can’t let that just go to voicemail. He’d feel awful. Spencer has been sending him texts all day too, worried and kind of desperate ones.

“Are you okay?” he asks, clearly agitated when Derek picks up. He doesn’t even start with hello. His voice is a high-pitch whine in Derek’s ear. “Garcia told me your car broke down. I can come get you. Just tell me where you are.”

“It’s fine kid. We got this little roadside motel we’re gonna shack up in and our car should be good by morning. I think Hotch is glad not to be in a car. He probably needed another day of rest before travel.”

“Well a car did just blow up in his face. How is he anyway?”

Derek sighs and watches Hotch move slowly toward the restroom. He’s limping hard on his left leg, using the backs of the booths for support when there isn’t anyone sitting there.

“Not good. He won’t say anything of course, but he’s in bad shape.”

“Watch for signs of PTSD.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a little early, but I’m looking.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah kid, I’m fine. Got some bumps and bruises, found some grass and twigs in my boxers when I went to bed last night...looked like I got into a fight with Sasquatch or something but I’m good.”

“You guys are too much alike.”

“No, I’m serious. I’m okay. I got away from the thing before it exploded, ran like hell. I tumbled a little in the grass and breathed in some smoke but I’m good. Promise.”

Reid keeps him on the phone a little longer, and Derek is pretty sure he’s being profiled through their conversation but he lets it happen anyway. If it makes Reid feel better to do it, he won’t argue. He’s not hiding anything.

They walk back to the motel in amiable silence, hardly any space between them on the stretch of broken sidewalk between the diner and their rooms. At almost timed intervals, Hotch seems to dip, like his knee is giving out on him and Derek twitches, ready to reach out and catch him if he goes down. It’s not a fun game to play.

It’s hardly late afternoon, way too early for bed in Derek’s book but Hotch looks beat so he doesn’t argue about retiring in the daylight even if it makes him feel like a geezer. “What’s your plan?” he asks, fitting his key in the lock. Hotch takes a minute, fumbling with his own key and shrugs.

“A shower and sleep.”

“Yeah, shower does sound good. I can still smell the smoke on my clothes.”

Hotch nods and hopes that Derek won’t look too far into that himself, it’ll just make him come through that door that adjoins their rooms every half hour to check on him. He’s doing everything he can to avoid Derek’s scrutiny. It’s all well-meaning, he’s not doing it for work, he’s doing it because he cares but Hotch isn’t ready to address anything except the immediate pain in his head and the smell of smoke on his clothes. And even then, he’s willing only to do that in private.

“You get a hankerin’ for pie or something later, give me a shout okay? Doesn’t look like there’s much nightlife here but we could watch a movie or something.”

“Sure.”

Derek is in the shower before anything else. The minute his door is shut he’s throwing his bag on the bed and turning on the hot water. He’s not worried about anything other than just washing off the day. The smell of smoke and motor oil are pungent enough to make him gag if he thinks about it too long. Getting under the spray of water and forgetting, relaxing, is all he wants. Hotch is as safe as he can be tucked into his hotel room, and Derek can hear him on the other side of the thin wall moving around.

The hot water rushes over his sore shoulder and he rotates it, loosening angry muscles. No clicking. He’s not hurt, not badly, just sore. Exactly like he said.

At his feet, soap suds collect near the drain in little cloud mountains. The drain is slow and the tub is collecting a little more water than he’d prefer. As he stares down at the suds, he pushes his toes through them and over the drain cover to see if there is something obscuring it. His toe touches something with a lot more substance than bubbles and as he pulls his foot back, it moves. He tells himself that it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. There’s nothing there.

But then it moves again and he takes a step back so he can bend over and get a better look. That was a mistake. He realizes it once he’s hunched over, catches a glimpse of something like a worm swish in the water and beady eyes blinking up at him, calm and collected. It’s a mouse, and it’s in the damn shower with him. He takes another step back but this one is hastier and he doesn’t pay attention to anything, his eyes are locked on the mouse.

He hears the snap before he feels the metal slicing his heel, scraping and pulling at the taut skin. A mouse trap, he’s just stepped on a mouse trap and now he’s crashing to the ground more out of surprise than pain. As he lands with a deafening thud, he does the only thing he can think to do. The only thing he’s ever thought to do in situations like this since joining the BAU.

It comes out so naturally it never occurs to him not to.

“HOTCH! HOTCH!”

He wishes he hadn’t done it immediately. Hotch is hurt, he doesn’t need this shit, but it’s done and he can already hear the door that adjoins their rooms flying open. It’s too late. All he can think to do is throw his hands over his dick, hide what he can before Hotch is in the bathroom and throwing the curtain back.

His gun is aimed right at Derek, right at his junk. “Woah, woah, hey,” Derek says automatically, turning away from the gun like that’ll do any good.

“What is it?!” Hotch asks, lowering his weapon, glancing frantically around the room to catch a sight of what could have scared Derek so badly. For a second he wonders whether he actually heard anything or if his mind was playing tricks on him. The thought chills him to the bone. If he’s just broken in on Derek in the middle of a shower for no reason…

“Sorry man, I’m sorry...there’s a damn mouse...I panicked…”

Hotch sees the twitch in the bubbles, sees the tail and reaches for it. His hand snaps forward, fingers pinching through soap suds and he comes up with the mouse dangling in his grip. The thing seems so calm and collected it doesn’t even flip around in his hand, it just hangs there. His lips twitch at the corners and he smiles, turning toward the door to walk it outside. Catch and release. Though he has his doubts about how long it’ll stay outside. A few minutes, maybe.

Derek’s chest heaves and he grunts, trying to sit himself upright with some dignity. There’s a mouse trap digging into his back dangerously close to his ass and he’s not exactly thrilled with this situation. Hotch comes back in once he’s gotten out and wrapped a towel around his waist.

“You’re bleeding.” There is blood on the floor behind Derek’s foot and he glances down at it, craning his neck to see the damage.

“The trap snapped my heel.”

Hotch waits for more, an explanation, a wild story, but he gets nothing. Derek is still on edge, staring at the tub like it might sprout legs and start walking around.

“There are traps in my room too,” Hotch offers finally. “I didn’t see any mice, but I called the front desk. They have an exterminator coming tomorrow.”

“They couldn’t say anything when we checked in huh?”

Hotch shrugs and leans against the counter for support. He’s been getting dizzy spells all day but they’re coming more frequently now. “She said she’ll comp our rooms.”

“This is fucked.”

Derek can’t believe how unbothered Hotch is over this entire ordeal. Before he has a chance to ask why he’s so calm about it, he hears a scraping sound behind him and looks back to find a mouse slipping down the sloped wall of the tub. “I can’t sleep here.”

“You can stay in my room. Strength in numbers.”

Then it hits him. The way Hotch stands with his hand planted against the counter, the way he sways a little on his feet, he’s taken his percocet. He’s half cocked on pain meds. The thought makes Derek laugh, and feel both jealous and guilty all at once. He was ready to zonk out in bed when Derek shrieked his name and even in the state he’s currently in...he came running. Damn that big softy, Derek thinks. He’s kind of cute in his slacks and t-shirt though.

“You sure?”

“Get your bag. Hurry up.”

Hotch’s room looks lived in. Torn apart. The blankets are pulled entirely off the bed and left in a heap at the foot, chair on top of the desk, the furniture pulled away from the walls where he could get it. It looks like Axl Rose and a bottle of top shelf whiskey got paid to do the housekeeping. Derek has to laugh at the absurdity. “You checked for mice huh?”

“There’s a trap beside the trash can, saw it right away.” His words slur just the smallest amount, and Derek detects a hint of the south in the accent that slides with it. “No mice. So far.” What Hotch doesn’t say, what he only implies, is that he’d planned to be passed out before any of them made an appearance. Out of sight out of mind.

“I’d say I’ll take the floor but that is not happening. We’re getting cozy.”

“Be my guest.”

Hotch falls asleep almost immediately. Derek finds the remote and clicks around aimlessly through channels, stopping for a while on jewelry infomercials and spaghetti westerns that hold his interest only mildly. Every so often he glances over at Hotch who looks almost peaceful with his head cradled in his arms against the thin pillow. He’s curled up beneath the papery sheets and the scratchy comforter like it’s the most comfortable nest in the world and Derek finds himself more than a little frustrated and jealous. He’s buzzing, he won’t be sleeping a wink, which really doesn’t work because he’s got to drive in the morning as long as their car is ready to go. No way Hotch is in any condition to get behind the wheel.

He’s certain he won’t sleep but eventually it does happen, he nods off while he’s still sitting up and watching a Jackie Chan movie marathon. His chin tucks into his chest and he leans slightly to the side as his eyes slip shut.

They sleep for hours while the world continues buzzing right outside. The late afternoon sun gives way to a deep orange blaze of sunset that melts like a popsicle on hot cement as it drips in beneath their blackout curtains. Derek is lost in some kind of fiery dream he’ll barely remember when he hears a thud and a whimper beside him. His first thought is mouse, huge fucking mutant mouse and his eyes shoot open.

“Hotch?” he asks, patting the empty place on the bed beside him when he realizes he’s alone. “Hotch where are you?”

He can hear it before his eyes adjust, Hotch dragging himself along the turquoise carpet miserably toward the bathroom while he gags, trying to fight off the sick. Derek leans over the edge of the bed and squints, watching the shadow of his friend move and then the bathroom door closes and he’s on the outside listening to it.

Hotch sounds miserable. There’s no hiding it, no pretending it’s anything but what it is. Derek knows that Hotch has a concussion and with that comes a slew of symptoms that neither of them has done a very good job of managing or even acknowledging.

When he comes back, he’s on his feet but just barely. Derek pretends he didn’t see him crawling, pretends he hasn’t spent the last fifteen minutes listening to him getting sick. His instinct is to once again ask if he’s okay, but that’s a pretty stupid question at this point and all he’ll get for his trouble is a lie.

“Rumble in the Bronx…” Hotch rasps through his raw throat, all but collapsing on his side of the bed. “Haley’s sister Jessica loves this movie.”

“It’s a classic.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t recommend you for the job,” Hotch says on the verge of tears, completely out of the blue. One minute it’s Jackie Chan, the next it’s a sob fest. Derek can’t keep up no matter how hard he tries. Hotch’s head hurts worse than it has all day, like someone is pulling his skull apart with a crowbar. There is no relief except what little he can do to distract himself, and sleep isn’t going to do the trick. Not now. So he’s going to try talking. “I should have. It was childish.”

“What was childish?”

“I didn’t want you to leave. It was never about Kate. I just don’t want to lose you…”

“Lose me?” Derek asks, his heart leaping into his throat. He’s a little concerned that this sudden outpouring of emotion means something is terribly wrong so he mutes the television and turns to focus on Hotch half-expecting to watch him having a stroke or something equally terrifying. But he just looks normal. Drained, half-lidded eyes sensitive to the small amount of sunlight seeping into the room but nothing alarming. “Hotch, all I ever do is fight with you. You’re gonna miss me being a pain in your ass?”

Hotch nods and lets his half-lidded eyes slip closed. He can tell Derek wants to argue, wants him to bristle a little. He wants to see that he’s okay but his head is splitting and he doesn’t have the energy to keep up with that. It’s an abrupt change of course, avoiding the inevitable argument and he just barely manages it. “Do you remember the room we got in Idaho? When someone finally found us out on that highway and gave us a ride to town?”

“Do I ever. That place was worse than this one. The water ran brown and there were cockroaches everywhere. They were in the fuckin’ fridge.”

“I’ll take mice over cockroaches,” Hotch whispers, pressing his face into the pillow. The pressure on his forehead feels almost soothing. “Your feet had to hurt as bad as mine, but you walked down to that gas station and bought bottles of water and a bag of ice and that styrofoam cooler so we could soak our feet in water that wasn’t brown.”

“Nothing ever felt as good as that ice. I’ve never had sex that felt better and I’ve had some good damn sex.”

Hotch smiles a little wistfully while his stomach knots. “We used the whole box of bandaids in my go-bag.”

“My feet never hurt so bad in my life.”

“Me neither. Derek,” Hotch says, rolling on his side. It takes all of his strength to make his body move that way and the pressure change in his head is instant and furious. He takes a couple calculated breaths before he’s able to continue. He just has to say this...it’s important and getting the words out might just kill him, he’s starting to get that panicky feeling that comes with the knowledge that the injury he’s been ignoring for days might be more serious than he wanted to admit. Either that or his mind is shot to shit. He has no idea. It could just be panic, it could be the sound of the trucks outside putting him on edge. He can barely tell up from down anymore. “I don’t want to let you go. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You keep saying that you’re gonna lose me…isn’t it up to me if I even go? Who says I want that job anyway?”

Hotch looks up at him and offers him a sad little smile. The tears in his eyes might be from the swell of emotion or the intensity of the pain in his head, he’s not sure at this point. “I would be lost without you. Everyone thinks I can’t be hurt, you said it yourself. They all have this idea that I’m invincible, and I am only able to be that way because you’re beside me. Look what happens when…”

“None of this happened because of anything you did. You know that.”

“Maybe if my judgment hadn’t been so clouded, if I hadn’t been so focused on Kate keeping her job I would have seen what was happening sooner.”

“None of us saw it. This isn’t on you. We’re a team and we failed collectively.”

It’s not within Hotch to believe something like that, not when everything stacks up in his favor. But Derek is trying to cheer him up and he’s not in any shape to mope around, he’s got bigger problems than etching what-ifs into his conscious. He’s got a splitting headache and all he wants to do is sleep it off, his eyes are practically closing of their own accord now. It’s probably the worst concussion he’s ever had and that’s saying a lot, he’s had some real winners.

“Are we cool?” Derek asks, tossing the remote onto his nightstand. Hotch doesn’t have an opportunity to answer before two mice come darting out from beneath their bed at the sound and Derek nearly jumps out of his skin. He slides quickly to the center of the bed, crashing into Hotch’s prone form and Hotch can’t help but let out a small laugh. He thinks it’s kind of cute the way this big strong man who can face down the biggest monsters humanity has to offer is terrified of these tiny little creatures. Slowly he drags himself upright and rests his aching back against the headboard.

“There’s one on my side too,” he adds, figuring Derek will want to know that. He saw it when he fell out of bed and dragged himself to the toilet. There’s at least one mouse between them and the bathroom and that seems like a pretty big deal now that Derek is practically clinging to him. “They have us surrounded.”

“I’m never sleeping. It’s all I can hear. I can’t close my eyes.”

“You should have stayed a little closer to the ambulance when it exploded, your hearing could be ruined like mine. I don’t hear anything, and even if I did the headache makes it impossible to think about anything else.”

Derek makes a sarcastic ha-ha-ha and leans against Hotch. They’re cool, he knows it now. Whatever weirdness had settled between them was gone now. “You remember how we passed the night in Idaho?”

Hotch gives Derek that little smile that only shows some of his teeth, it’s a little devious and not many people get to see it. Derek likes to think that this smile belongs to him. “I might need a refresher. Head injury and all.”

“Oh. Yeah. Head injury...you gonna milk that all night?”

He really wants Derek to kiss him right now. It’s all he can think about, the only thought rattling around inside his skull. It bypasses the circuits of pain and takes center stage. After everything he’s done and said, after everything with Kate, he can’t be the one to reach out and make that first move. It’ll be too much.

Derek knows it too. He knows it and he wants it, but he’s having a little fun teasing. He leans forward, pressing their foreheads together and whispers something Hotch can feel against his lips but he can’t hear. And Derek knows damn well he can’t hear it above the high-pitch ringing in his ears. Asshole. Hotch swallows hard and decides he’s going to take the bait, whether he heard what Derek said or not.

He’s right there. No space between them, nothing else to do with this moment. He’s got a bruised jaw and a split lip, a headache that’s bordering on emergency level pain even for him...what he really needs is another painkiller and some sleep but what he wants is Derek and at this point he thinks he’s made that pretty damn clear.

Derek gets to it before Hotch decides to. The contact is soft and sweet, a little hesitant until he feels Hotch move with him, hears the small strangled sound in the back of his throat that tells him all he needs to know. He’s gentle, hand cupping Hotch’s jaw, his lower lip sliding between teeth, all breath and heartbeat and Hotch can feel the warmth spreading down the length of his spine. He’s trying to play it cool but Derek can sense it, the way Hotch presses harder into the touch. Like it’s inconceivable that Derek could let him go, could break the connection. He presses into it like it’s giving him sustenance.

“Ringing a bell?” Derek asks between kisses, one hand sliding down Hotch’s arm, gripping his wrist, pulling him in. Hotch hums and nods, smiling into the litany of small kisses that he hopes are leading to something bigger, deeper, something that’ll erase every memory and every sensation that isn’t Derek.

“Getting there…”

Derek is content to spend all night reminding him of that time in Idaho, a time when everything was simpler. Hotch and Haley hadn’t been married yet, they’d decided to take some time apart before taking the plunge. Carefree time to explore what else was out there, just in case...and Hotch found Derek out there and that was good, so good, but too complicated. He isn’t sure it isn’t still too complicated. It’s probably worse now, he’s got an ex-wife and a child and more responsibility...but he’s also got a newfound appreciation for how quickly it can all be taken from you, too. He lost Kate and nearly died himself the night before, and if that isn’t enough to tell him how fast things change he’s not sure he’ll ever learn that lesson. Derek is here right now and his kisses are just as intoxicating now as they ever were, and he’s pretty sure that the New York job will remain unfilled for the time being...so, complicated or not, it’s a chance worth taking.

They’re content to continue this slow, quiet reintroduction to their past while ignoring the mice that skitter around in their carpet. In the morning they’ll call Penelope and ask her to send them a car and a driver, neither of them will be in any condition to drive...instead, they’ll sit in the back seat and sleep all the way back home.

And after that? Who knows. They’re not going to make plans, they’ll just wait and see. Things change pretty damn fast.

[erstwhilesparrow]

🍓 🏜️ ❄️? for the ask game? if you want also 🍬?

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

hm... taizi, i think! i started reading their writing right around the same time i started high school and i went, "wait. you can just do this?" i'd read fanfic before this but taizi's work was what made it click for me that fanfic is, like, A Type Of Writing, and you can do it really well, and put it in places where people will see it and enjoy it. so i did the thing. wrote lego ninjago fanfic in microsoft word on the days school started late and i had nothing to do in the hour before the bus arrived.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

oh gosh, that's difficult. i think, and maybe this is too vague, maybe the ones that get into the crunch of the thing. i am always on my all fic is meta train, so i think comments that seem to Get That, and expand on or pull into the open my thinking are my favourites? also a big fan of when someone says something i didn't think about while writing, but is nevertheless There In The Fic! new insights! that's very cool to me.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

oh god oh fuck. i'm gonna take 'dream' here as meaning i cannot personally Make It Happen because a lot of the things i could say i dream about seeing in a fic are also things i could just put in a fic and tada, there, not a dream anymore. so it's gotta be some kind of stupid plot-heavy ensemble cast AU because that's just not the kind of thing i know how to write well enough to be satisfied with if i did it. i know if you asked me this again, like, tomorrow i would probably have a different answer, but right now i am sighing longingly about some kind of empires smp modern au. catrina belovedgamers and i were talking in dms the other day about a circus au in which some of the strays, stowaways, and outcasts of the world discover, with great joy, that they never have to go home again if they don't want to, and the idea of scott and shrub and joey (these three specifically, yes) getting happy endings amid the shenanigans of Circus makes me really tender. but it also has to be sad and difficult. it has to Deal with the corruption and xornoth and the fact that none of this is easy, and scott still has to try to kill himself and joey still has to get tangled up in xornoth and be just as prickly as he always is and shrub still has to lose everyone. and that's Just the three newest runaways this circus has picked up, all of wra is still here too, and so are pix and lizzie and joel and jimmy, so. do you see why this would be really fucking hard to write,

who would write it best? for it to be warming and gentle all the way through like a cup of tea at just the right temperature, probably taizi. but for it to pluck out the sad and difficult bits exactly right, probably alouette_des_champs, who consistently does The Best modern aus for pretty much every fandom they've written for. they are not in mcyt fandom at all, but they did this with drawga (comedy art actual-play web series), and atla, and naddpod (actual-play d&d podcast, also mostly comedy), and if there's anyone who could do this right i bet it's them.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

[guy who deliberately surrounds itself with people who have good fandom opinions that it generally agrees with voice] do i have. unpopular opinions. about popular fandom characters.

i think canary jimmy is deeply boring and gets focused in on to the exclusion of almost all the Interesting Things Literally Happening On The Screen? i have total faith that it can be a fun/useful/interesting framework with which to consider [jimmy in the life series] but mostly i think.... jimmy's got a personality in there. it feels weird that he seems so popular but so few people have Things To Say About Him outside of what he represents to other life series members.

i dunno, that feels like a really easy take to have, just disagreeing with The Most Popular fanon. and maybe i haven't Reviewed The Literature enough. but that seems like it meets the requirements. so!

[definitelydissociative]

Being in college has been a very strange experience for us so far--and I use "us" here because it's not just the school parts who are having a strange time. I'm absolutely not a school part, previous to returning from dormancy two years ago, I was only ever here to soak up the night time abuse. Now, somehow, I'm sitting here on a day off (it's reading week, thank god) and I'm typing this post to avoid doing homework. I somehow ended up roped into this whole mess, despite having been very, very vocally against attempting school again. I don't know how I feel about it now.

Initially, it seemed like it was all going to be one single part who handled our courses during the day and dealt with homework. Callie (the main school part) did it all on their own for the first few weeks, but I think they reached a point where she had a massive stress induced meltdown and has refused to touch homework since. Now it's just Callie who goes on campus, but there's a whole bunch of us who are contributing academically and in terms of support. There's a part who does all of our timed touch typing and typing drills. Phoenix gets us all ready to go in the morning. Luca is, apparently, the "bus guy" because nobody else can handle the stress of taking public transit here after being sexually harassed literally the first day we took the bus. I don't doubt there's more that I'm not aware of yet. Whoever is around contributes to homework, usually myself (Adam) or Jack. I'm working on a project for our graphic design-esque class, which is a brochure that's due tomorrow afternoon. Over the last week, I think it's passed between at least three of us, maybe four. It's incredibly strange to open up Canva and realize I have zero memory of what had been done by another part.

It's hard to deny the depth of our amnesia at this point. Memory sharing is weird, particularly between Jack and Callie, but most days when we get home from school and switch to home parts, nobody remembers that we'd had classes at all. Sometimes memories will be shared after the fact, though not always. It makes homework incredibly frustrating and difficult to keep track of--I've never had to be so rigorously organized before. It's just really, really fucking hard to sit down to work on an assignment and realize that I don't remember any of the lecture relevant to my assignments. It's exhausting, most of our extended homework sessions (some days I work six hours straight after school) are made so long because it takes up lots of time to track down the information we need.

Don't even get me started on dealing with trauma. It's a whole thing that needs its own post, but the short story is that we've been in deep, deep denial since disclosing to my mother went so badly last February. It's a huge part of why this blog was abandoned, actually. It's been a work in progress but that denial is finally fading and we're being forced to face the truth. The truth is just... unpredictable. It would be nice to keep, at the very least, the CSA flashbacks and triggers to at home, but it hasn't been working like that. I don't know enough about Callie's experiences to say what that's been like for her, but I am aware that it's been really distressing when she has her own school related trauma to deal with.

Anyways. I wrote this as a way to stall doing homework, but I should probably stop stalling and get the stupid thing done and over with. It's worth 20% of our final mark and I certainly don't want to get blamed for a shit mark because I refused to pitch in and be a team player.

I hate having to share my life sometimes. I just want to do my own thing, separate from the other chucklefucks and their bullshit.