#also i always forget the bonus goes both ways. i should be using the damn thing more often

[space-ninja-fashion-show]

I love how dumb npc pathing can get in this game sometimes

In one of my Circulus runs today the Lone Guardian got stuck on a doorway for at least half the mission so we just hung out with him in his little problem corner

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T.  (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do... 

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything. 

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility. 

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can. 

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure. 

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

[maddogofshimano]

New Years Haruka Character Story

Y1 Spoilers

I did a fresh translation on this one because I know I super rushed it the first time through because I was frantically grinding diamonds. This one is simultaneously very sweet and raises several questions.

Here’s the card! It’s very pretty.

Summary: It’s 2011, and Kiryu has something he needs Haruka to pick up in Kamurocho. She goes by herself, and with the help of Date retrieves this special item. Unfortunately, it’s not what either of them are expecting, and the Tojo Clan seems desperate to get their hands on it...

2011. Haruka is in her third year of middle school.

Summer vacation is just about over, Haruka's a little sad about that. Haruka asks if Kiryu's bought everything for dinner. 

He says he has, but he has something he needs Haruka to do. She asks if he needs her to buy something else. He says no. He actually... wants her to go to Kamurocho. There's a person there who's been holding onto something for him. He'd like Haruka to go pick it up. She needs to do it directly.

Haruka agrees, and asks if she can to go right away? She doesn't have anything prepped. Kiryu says that Morning Glory will be fine, don't worry. She leaves Kiryu in charge of the cooking, since it was her turn. Kiryu says he'll make "Man Food" (Tl note: bachelor meal?)

The next day she arrives in Kamurocho.

Haruka: Uncle Kaz said that someone from Sunflower should be meeting me here... ?: Haruka-chan! Haruka: Ah, Takako-san! It's been so long! Takako: It has! You've gotten so pretty...! I was really surprised to get a phone call from Kiryu-san. Here's what he wanted me to hand over. It's a little heavy. Haruka: I'll put it in this bag then. Thank you so much! I'm glad this was so easy to pick up. Takako: Sorry, I'd invite you over for lunch but Sunflower is in the middle of spring cleaning right now... Haruka: No don't worry, I'm sorry to have been a burden. Tatako: Well, I'm off! If you ever are in the area again, give me a call. Give Kiryu-san my regards!

Haruka thanks her and wonders if this is the thing that Kiryu needed her to pick up personally. She thinks it'd be a good idea to check it... but she's starving, and she sees a Smile Burger. A goon bumps into her, and they both drop their bags.

 He cusses her out, she says that he's the one that bumped into her, he is incensed that she would dare talk back to him. Thankfully, Date arrives. 

The goon asks if this asshole is her dad.

Date: Heh. That firecracker's dad is unlike anyone else in the world. I'm just his friend.

The goon throws hands, as goons are want to do. Date kicks his ass. The goon quickly snatches his bag and flees, promising that he won't forget this! Date makes sure that Haruka is alright, and says if she comes to Kamurocho she should really let him know. Where's Kiryu anyways? 

Haruka answers that this time she's here all by herself. Date wants to know why the hell she'd do that. She explains that Kiryu wanted her to pick up... where'd the bag go? Date points it out, it seems it got displaced during the fight.

Haruka's worried that whatever she needed to pick up might have been broken, so they should check... Date is tired of standing around and invites her to New Serena, he'll make some food. Haruka asks if Date also makes "Man Food". He laughs and says she should look forward to eating it.

<Part 2>

Turns out Date is a good cook! He says he's pretty meticulous about it, and that Saya is also fond of it, though she wishes he had been that good at it a long time ago. They open the bag up to check what's inside. It's something small, and pretty securely wrapped. It's...

A pistol. A real one.

A yakuza bursts into New Serena with a knife. He's been looking for Haruka, and wants her to hand that bag over. Date recognizes the man's pin, he's Tojo Clan! The goon says that if they won't hand it over, he'll just have to beat it out of them. Date beats this guy too, and he runs off fast. 

Haruka asks if that was a Tojo goon, Date confirms and says that if they know about that pistol, they're going to keep trying to take it... We really need to know why Kiryu wanted you to get this so badly

Haruka agrees and calls Kiryu.

Kiryu: Ah, Haruka? Did you already make the pickup? Kiryu: You shouldn't take it out of the bag very often. Haruka: Something that I shouldn't take out... so this is genuine? Kiryu: That's right, and it's high quality. I think you're grown up enough to have it now. Haruka: I'm grown up enough...! Uncle Kaz, what the heck do you mean...!? Voice over the phone: Excuse me? Kiryu: Ah, sorry. Someone's here, I'll have to cut this short. Haruka: U-Uncle Kaz! Haruka: .... Date: What'd he say? Haruka: That I'm grown up enough, so it's fine for me to have this... Date: What? What does that mean... Haruka: I don't know either... Uncle Kaz, he hung up in the middle of talking... Date: ...I don't want to believe it. I really don't want to believe it, but... Haruka: ? Date: Well, maybe Kiryu's returning to the yakuza... Haruka: Eh...? Date: I can't think of any other situation where he would need a gun. Then the Tojo Clan heard about this gun's existence, and decided to steal it. Date: There's probably going to be a lot of people who aren't happy about Kiryu returning. Haruka: B-But, they'd definitely find this at the airport...! Date: Didn't you hear that Kiryu is coming here? In that case, wouldn't he just meet up with you and pick it up then? Haruka: (That's... Uncle Kaz is going to...!) Haruka: .......... Date: ...Haruka? Haruka: I'm going to get rid of this thing! <Haruka runs out of New Serena> Date: Hey, wait!

<Part 3>

Haruka is looking for somewhere to throw away the gun where no one will find it. Unfortunately she is found by the goon from part 1. He wants her to return what she's got right now! Haruka is surprised he said "return", and asks if he means this gun? The goon says that since she went and looked inside... he'll just have to erase her!

Thankfully Date is here to rescue Haruka again. He's pretty winded, he's not as young as he used to be. The goon says that Date's been a real pain in his ass, and fights him again, and loses again.

Date: Whew... Calm down Haruka. If anything happened to you I'd never be able to show my face around Kiryu again. Haruka: Sorry... Date: Hey, why are you trying to drag Haruka into this? Is this some kind of payback? Goon: Ugh, i-it's... Haruka: Before you said to "return that"... Were you talking about this gun...? Goon: Huh...? You, you didn't notice? Haruka: Eh? Goon: We took the wrong bags. I got yours, and you got mine. Date: What? Goon: Look, this is your bag. Haruka: Ah! They're identical!! Date: Then, it was crazy to think Kiryu would send Haruka out to retrieve a gun for him. Damn, I really cried wolf on that one... Me and my big imagination. Date: I'm really sorry, Haruka. I shouldn't have worried you like that. Haruka: It's okay, I caused you a lot of trouble too... I'm sorry. Date: Well, there's one person that could have prevented this whole mess. Oi. Goon: Y-Yeah... Date: I'm a detective, so don't even think you can escape and do whatever it is you were planning with this gun. Goon: Ughhh... Date: So, what did Kiryu actually want you to pick up? Let's open it. Haruka: Yeah, let's take a look. ...This is........ Haruka: A kimono? <Haruka returns to Morning Glory> Kiryu: ...So that's what happened, huh? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go by yourself. Haruka: It's okay. Date helped me. By the way, Uncle Kaz. What was the reason that you wanted me to pick up these clothes by myself? Kiryu: ...Because of this letter, you should read it.

  Haruka: A letter...? Kiryu: It's from the person who got that kimono for you. Haruka: Umm...

To Haruka, If you're reading this letter, that means I wasn't able to give you this myself. That's a shame, I have always hoped to give you this kimono when you got older. I hope that wearing this kimono when you make the first shrine visit of the year brings you much happiness. Please be happy. That is my only wish. From Yumi

Haruka: .......... Uncle Kaz.....!! Kiryu: Yeah. ...Well, try it on. Let's see how it looks.

Haruka: Alright. Haruka: How is it, Uncle Kaz?

Kiryu: ...It looks great on you. Yumi would have said the same. Haruka: Thank you, Uncle Kaz. Haruka: ...Thank you. Mom.

<END>

Bonus stuff: this isn’t a bonus at all but hey Date? Hey Date??? You’re really just going to... help Kiryu rejoin the Tojo Clan via his daughter picking up a gun for him????? You are so ride or die it’s a problem. What the hell man!

This is the only time I can think of them explicitly referencing Kiryu visiting Kamurocho post Y3 that isn’t during one of the games. It wasn’t a hard assumption to make, Akiyama seems to know Haruka pretty well in Y5 despite not interacting in Y4, but it’s cool to have that confirmed directly.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shadows And Pills - 1

Summary: Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all. Alexa comes away with a shadow.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Warnings: RAPE, Torture, Abuse, Self Harm, Negative Images of Psychological Services/Mental Health Professionals, Hallucinations, Stalking, Supernatural Horror, Prescription Drug Use and Eventual Abuse, Mental Illness, PTSD, Flashbacks of Violence, Flashbacks of Tragedy, Starving Oneself, Isolation, Physical and Mental Exhaustion, Denial, Self Neglect, Gaslighting, Mental Spiraling, Mental and Emotional Abuse

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This is not a happy story in any sense, at any point. I could only write this at my lowest places, emotionally and mentally speaking, and I had a hard time coming back from it. This is dark, and it does not at any point get lighter. I relied heavily on my own experiences with mental struggles and took a few pieces here and there from my own experiences with mental health professionals. MY EXPERIENCES ARE MY OWN AND ARE NOT TYPICAL, NOT EVEN FOR ME. If you need mental help of any kind, please DO NOT HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO GET IT. This story was an exercise in mental exorcism, in a sense.

For all the Loki lovers out there, I do not shine him anything like a good or redeeming light here. He is evil incarnate, more or less. I love Loki, I love good Loki and redeemed Loki and misunderstood Loki and just about every incarnation thereof. I needed a villain, and he fit the story.

Above all, please be kind. This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written, and it took me years to work up the courage to post it. If you have any questions, please feel free to message me or send me an ask.

Thank you to @thoughtslikeaminefield and @glassjacket . I would not have made it through this story and would honestly not be here today with the two of you. I will never be able to tell you how much you mean to me.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Word Count: 1 - 3785; 2 - 3513; 3 - 1068

In Case You Missed It: ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

Shadows and Pills

1

Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all.

Alexa comes away with a shadow.

In the weeks following the disaster, the public equally lauds and decries the Avengers, but while their opinions are divided over the heroes, the villain is universally denounced as nothing short of Satan himself, and the city throws an actual celebration the day Thor takes Loki back to Asgard to face the justice of their people.

Alexa, having not turned on her television since the day she got home from the hospital, ignores the boisterous celebrants and goes about her shopping, earbuds firmly in place, frown lines now permanently etched between her eyes and around her pinched lips.

“Routine will help you through some of the worst days,” her therapist tells her during one session. “Something familiar and safe to retreat to when the flashbacks are the worst. Just give it a try,” he adds at her disbelieving grimace.

And so she sets a routine.

Morning Routine: wake up. Ignore alarm, lie in bed an extra thirty minutes or so. Shower. Pretend to eat breakfast. Take meds (this one she never skips or shirks). Find something to wear. Stare at it for another ten minutes. Eventually get dressed. Contemplate keys for another fifteen minutes. Leave the goddamned apartment already.

Her routine has varying results, although she does admit to her therapist that life is marginally more bearable with the routine than without.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to for the next day.”

Her therapist can’t quite hide his grimace at her flat, deadened tone, but she’s not being sarcastic or rude. She finds that going to bed at night is a trifle easier when she knows what’s going to happen the next day.

“So, who are we up to today?” the doctor asks, switching the subject with awkward abruptness. It’s been six weeks since Hell came to New York, and during their twice-weekly meetings, her therapist suggests going through each of the people she saw die in front of her that day, to get closure...or say goodbye...or something.

Sometimes Alexa wonders whether he just wants to hear the details for his own perverse pleasure.

“Brenda.”

Alexa robotically begins to list the personal details she knows...knew...about her floor manager. Unlike the mail room intern she discussed at their last meeting, the list for Brenda goes on for a while. She’s worked with Brenda since she started at the company, learning most of what she knows about her current job from the woman.

Brenda was kind, sharply intelligent, and mothering to everyone under her supervision, and yet she did it in a way that didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. She balanced work and a family long and well enough to both receive regular promotions within the company and also, very recently, become a new grandmother.

The backs of Alexa’s eyes sting as she remembers the photo Brenda showed her not twenty minutes before part of the building collapsed on top of half the department. Her jaw locks as the scene plays before her eyes again, the explosions and shrieks of metal drowning out the shrieks of the people only five feet away.

She closes her eyes, but there’s no pause button to freeze the scene, no power button to shut the images off as she turns in her memory and runs, making it to the stairwell and slamming the door open, turning back and screaming for Brenda, straining her eyes through the smoke and dust and mountains of falling debris. Brenda is running, reaching for Alexa even though she seems miles away, and then one of the file cabinets is thrown over, propelled faster and harder than should be possible, and...and…

And then Brenda isn’t running anymore. Her outstretched hand, the only part of her that wasn't crushed by office furniture, spasms against the ruined carpet, as if it thinks it’s reached its destination and is grasping at its savior.

Alexa’s hand tingles, and her fingers lock into her palm, nails fitting easily into the little grooves she dug there weeks ago. No blood, she only dug that deep once, but the furrows remain as permanently etched there as the frown lines on her face.

Alexa struggles to take in a labored breath as her therapist watches her with the appropriate amount of professional, clinical sympathy and detachment.

“Do your counting,” he reminds her.

How could she forget? She counts to three once, letting a breath out at the end. She repeats the process twice more, ignoring her therapist’s brief flash of annoyance at her departure from his “system.” But, for once, he doesn’t ask her why she has to deviate from the standard one-to-ten method and just lets her do the goddamned counting in peace.

Small blessings.

“Have you had any flashbacks since our last session?”

She stares at him, letting her gaze rest heavy and disbelieving as she turns his question over. She’s been averaging about five flashbacks a day, triggered by everything from accidentally brushing a stranger on the sidewalk (Jim knocking past her to get down the stairs just as the door on the stairwell behind her explodes inward; more shrieking, then falling, then dark) to lifting a carton of cold milk from the shelf at the grocery (that impossibly cold hand grasping hers, pulling her up from the rubble, bringing her face to face with...something...something in the...shadows, it was so dark there, and…).

“Yeah. I’ve had some flashbacks since our last session.”

“What sort of coping strategies did you use?”

He’s not even meeting her eyes now, just getting notes down on that damned pad. The scratching of his pen grates into her bones, and Alexa grits her teeth as she glares.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

She slowly recites the list of strategies he suggested during a previous session, none of which have proven particularly effective at lessening the frequency of the episodes, but most of which she grudgingly admits provide some slight relief afterwards and allow her to refocus her mind on the present rather than dwelling in the memory.

“And the shadows?”

How can he get this wrong every time when he’s taking all those fucking notes?

“Still just the one.”

“Has it manifested in any other way? Asked you to do anything? Do you feel different in any way when you notice it?”

There’s a distasteful eagerness to his words that always turns Alexa’s stomach, and she has to physically bite into her tongue to keep from asking what kind of bonus he gets for each symptom she shows of different mental illnesses.

“It’s just there sometimes. I..” She hesitates, feeling vaguely nauseated from his questions, but she has to be honest, right? Because, ultimately, it’s his job to help her, and she’s never going to get through this by hiding symptoms. He can’t help fix her if he doesn’t know what’s broken, and he did suggest the routine, so, okay, he gets a pass for this one.

“I still mostly only see it before I’m falling asleep. I’ve started seeing it in the late afternoon, as well, not often, but sometimes. Always in shadows that are already there. It doesn’t talk or anything, doesn’t really have any face or form except for vaguely person-shaped, but it...it watches me. And it’s...denser than it was last week. More...it’s thicker than it was, like when you see wispy clouds kind of...gather and turn into storm clouds?”

He nods, his pen whizzing over the legal pad he records their session notes on. “So, you feel threatened by the shadow? Like it’s storm clouds gathering to...what? It feels menacing?”

But, like most of the questions Alexa fences in this office, this one isn’t easily answered.

“It feels like it’s watching me, waiting for something. I don’t know what. I don’t...I don’t know if it’s menacing, exactly. Like, it feels potentially dangerous, but I can’t tell if it’s for me. I don’t know. It’s just...darker and more there this week, but it doesn’t do anything, and I don’t feel different, and it doesn’t speak to me. I. Don’t. Hear. Voices.”

She clips off each word at the end of her rant separately and precisely, repeating her counting in her head, and she forces her breathing to even out. The doctor is just doing his job, he’s just trying to help, he’s supposed to ask these questions, it’s how he helps-

“Hmm. I’ll have to consider that between now and our next meeting. In the meantime, go ahead and move up to the next dosage step with your meds, keep it on the escalating schedule we set.”

You set, she thinks mutinously for a moment before internally shaking her head. She nods, biting her tongue once more. She’s going to have a permanent indentation there as well, at this rate.

“Any side effects? Itching, swelling, difficulty breathing? Any unreasonable lethargy or detachment?”

“I mean...I don’t really have anything to attach to at this point, so…”

He frowns at her again, and she wonders if he’s going to crank up her dosage two notches instead of one.

“Are you having what you feel are typical emotional responses to everyday stimuli? Have you laughed or smiled at anything yet? How long has it been since you emotionally felt anything besides the frustration and panic?”

And, somehow, this question is difficult, too. She struggles through, trying to find a balance between honesty and not making herself look like a complete failure who can't function in life. She doesn’t help her case when she admits she hasn’t followed many of his suggestions beyond establishing a routine.

“Not even exercising?” he asks, his disappointment palpable.

When she silently shakes her head, her lips pinched tight against his disapproval, he shakes his head with a sigh that sings of ultimate betrayal. Instead of berating her as usual, the doctor frowns and looks down at his notes, considering them silently. He clicks his tongue against his teeth for a moment before switching over to end-session mode, robotically delivering his closing remarks, his typical reminders to keep her meds on a strict schedule at the exact time every day, to avoid all alcohol and unprescribed drugs, to keep her diet as clean and unprocessed as possible, and to get plenty of exercise. Even this last bit is delivered with a sharply clinical detachment, as if she has driven him to the brink of her own psychoses by stubbornly refusing to accept his help.

There is a short, silent moment between them where they refuse to look at each other, the doctor perusing his notes once more while Alexa examines the wrinkles creased into her jeans from lack of folding. The doctor flips pages over in his legal pad and slaps the cover shut sharply, breaking the standoff with one last, dismissive comment.

“Routine, Alexa. Stick to the routine. If it’s what brings you comfort, if that's the one thing you’re taking away from these sessions that actually helps, then stick with it. I’ll see you Thursday afternoon.”

….

Her afternoons vary, according to her therapy schedule. Her sessions take roughly an hour and a half, so that’s one block of time she doesn’t have to try and fill. On the days she isn’t having her skull cracked open, she can sometimes force herself to work on the files her company sends her way. Grunt work, brainless stuff that any first-year intern could do, but it keeps her on the payroll and covered by health insurance until the doctor clears her to return to the office.

Not that there’s an office to return to yet.

Grocery shopping for food she’ll pretend to eat later, making excuses to stay out of the apartment a little longer each day, watching the shadows of the buildings grow darker and longer until the sunlight disappears from the streets.

And the other shadow, the darkest of all, thick and solid against the brick and stone, pacing her, keeping track as she wanders through the broken city blocks. Sometimes she walks a little faster, pretends to not notice the black spot. Sometimes she pretends it’s keeping her company. With the most conversation she’s had in weeks taking place in her therapy sessions, she occasionally finds the imaginary company of her shadow stalker to be more pleasant than menacing.

Occasionally.

Eventually, though, she and her chimerical companion head back to the silent, encroaching walls of her apartment to begin the night routine.

…

Night Routine: laundry. Pretend to eat dinner. Shower. Finish laundry. Clean already clean kitchen. Another shower (on the bad days, the ash and debris won’t wash off). Rearrange already arranged closet. Braid hair. Take meds, do not skip, no matter how much they screw up her sleep, because they help. They do. Settle into bed. Stare at the wall. Adjust pillows. Re-settle. Stare at the shadow. Start to drift off, slide into a flashback, scream back to full consciousness. Watch the shadow. Doze. Awaken from a fucked up nightmare she can only partially remember. Repeat ad nauseum.

Really, if Alexa could just skip the nights and go straight into morning, that’d be great. Mornings are tedious but tolerable. Afternoons are blurry and tense, especially therapy days, but nights…

Nights just won't shut down.

The drugs are partially responsible, the doctor has told her multiple times. The medicine can either make sleeping more difficult, or it can act like a sedative, dragging and holding her down. Honestly, she’s getting kind of mixed results. It’s difficult to stay awake, easy to slip under, but then she can’t stay asleep for very long, jerking back to consciousness in something close to full panic, unable to figure out if it’s the drugs or the dreams that’s pushing her to the edge.

Because the fucked up dreams...well, that’s all on her and her broken brain. She stopped bringing up the dreams in therapy after the first couple of weeks of sessions. The doctor seemed hell bent on steering Alexa towards the possibility that she was experiencing waking hallucinations, but there’s no way she could possibly be awake for all this shit. Maybe some of the flashbacks, but not…

Not…

Her brain isn’t that broken.

No. No, she can tell from the way she jerks to consciousness afterwards, she knows she’s asleep. Yeah, she’s unstable and has flashbacks, but she’s not delusional. They’re dreams.

Every night.

About…

Something.

Okay, sometimes she can remember. Sometimes the meds dull her down so much she forgets what day it is, but sometimes she can hold on to a detail or two. Cold, slender fingers, impossibly strong. A flash of bright blue that sends nausea racing through her entire body (who knew your toes could feel nauseated?) or a glimpse of bottle green that, conversely, thrills her to her soul. A smooth, velvet voice that penetrates every layer of her being, down to the deepest recesses. Darkness descending...a sense of dreadful awe…

And sometimes she can remember every unhinged detail with a terrifying clarity that she will never even consider mentioning to the therapist. Not if she likes her jacket sleeves to fit properly.

There’s honesty, and then there’s idiocy.

The shadow is larger tonight. Taller, a little broader, definitely denser. She would say looming, even, but it’s not quite that large.

Not quite.

She stares at it openly, no longer trying to avoid acknowledging its presence. What's the point? The doctor knows about it, and it’s not like she’s talking to it. She’s not that far gone yet. And she hasn't lied to the doctor, either. The shadow does watch her, like it’s waiting, gathering. Convalescing. But it hasn't ever talked to her.

She does not hear voices.

She yawns and rolls her shoulders, left then right, sliding a little lower in bed, searching for a cooler place between the sheets. Movement catches her eye, and she looks up as the shadow shifts, leaning left then right, and seems to…

Grow?

No, it’s never moved before. She’s pretty sure she’s never seen it move, but now it pulses and raises up, stretching-

No. No. Sourceless shadows don’t move. They don’t grow, they don’t shift, they don’t-

The shadow stretches upwards abruptly, definitely looming now, and Alexa hits the wall behind the bed, scrambling backwards in a blind panic as she realizes the shadow isn’t growing.

It’s coming closer.

Her breathing speeds up, but her limbs are heavy and dull with narcotic stupor. The foot of her bed darkens as the shadow creeps even closer, and she opens her mouth to protest, to scream, to say something, but her tongue is numb and stupid with the acrid, coppery tang of fear and pharmaceuticals, and she hates, hates this kind of dream where she can’t speak, can't move and she can barely breathe, and...and…

The shadow reaches out, stretches over her foot and slides up her calf in a clammy, viscous caress that tightens on her knee and pulls her several inches down the bed as her throat closes.

Do not shrink from Me. It is not your fear I crave, but your adoration. Come to Me, allow yourself to move past the fear and embrace what I wish to grant you.

Horror, deep and instinctual, floods her veins. Alexa feels the voice more than hears it, and it awakens an ancient fear that finally, though futilely, awakens her drugged limbs. She claws at her sheets uselessly as the shadow moves over her, a freezing oil slick that oozes against her skin as if her blankets and clothes weren’t even there, sending shivers to the very marrow of her bones as her gorge rises, and she chokes on the bile that singes the back of her throat. She can’t fight, can’t move against this intangible force, but neither will her terror let her sink past the fear to blissful unawareness.

Give over. Let go of your stubborn fear that tethers you to this useless reality. Allow Me entrance, and I will grant you the relief you seek. Release your grip on the world that cares nothing for you, and I shall bestow upon you the peace you so desperately crave.

Her skin raises in gooseflesh everywhere the shadow crosses, and her stomach turns as it squeezes its way up her torso, her chest, her throat, slipping over her lips in a sick parody of a lover’s caress. She opens her mouth - to scream, to breathe, to do something - and the shadow plunges inwards, invading her mouth, her throat, coating her inside and out with a thick, glutinous sensation that leaves her mouth hanging obscenely open, tongue thrashing, while her mind screams useless denials.

Submit to Me what you see I can easily take, give Me My due. Give over, drown in Me, and I will save you from this miserable existence.

And she is drowning, the air pressed from her lungs as a dark heaviness settles solidly over her. Her arms are forced over her head, and she is strung out on her twisted sheets, writhing under the weight of the shadow as it presses over every surface, against every entrance. No matter how she strains, her legs are gradually forced apart. The darkness’s lack of speed is affected, some barely functioning bit of her brain whispers to her; it could take her as swiftly as it cares to and is only moving slowly because it wants her to suffer, wants to taste her anguish. She has no chance against the shadow, she can’t even touch it, really she could just save herself the anxiety and fear and just-

NO.

She twists as hard as she can, but the shadow simply moves with her, flows over her, waits until she takes another breath, and then surges between her thighs, driving her torso off the bed with the force of its thrust. Every cell in her body locks, not in pain, but in complete revulsion. And then again, and again, cruel in the thoroughness of its violation, covering and saturating every crevice of her being, coating and tainting everything it touches.

Wrong, can't...stop, stop, stop, wrong, can’t...God, please…

You cannot rely on yourself, on your own mind for proper guidance. Let Me protect you. Let Me save you from yourself.

How long...minutes...hours...years...just stop, please…please-

The alarm clock shrieks right in her goddamned ear, and she can breathe and move and scream and goddammit, she fucking hates those dreams that send her careening onto the floor, scrambling for cover when she can’t even remember what she's running from.

Her morning routine is already in shambles. There’s no ignoring the alarm clock today. A morning shower maybe, to wash off the sticky aftermath of night sweats, definitely, but no lying about, staring at the walls in a sleep-daze. Definitely washing the sheets tonight, too.

She surveys what she can see of her bed from her crumpled position on the floor in front of the closet and sighs. Must’ve been a hell of a nightmare to tear up the covers that badly. She thinks for a moment of trying a little harder to remember, to recall some piece of the dream, but then her stomach flips over, and she summarily rejects that idea in favor of caffeination and medication.

She allows herself another few minutes on the floor, waiting until her respiratory and heart rates return to a less alarming pace before climbing to her quivering knees. The shadow darkens the far corner of the room, as innocuous as always. Though she doesn’t know why, she can’t help an involuntary flinch when she first sees it. It’s not normally present in the morning, at least, she doesn’t think so...well, she can't remember the shadow being so dark in the mornings, at least. But...

She clears her throat against the thickness that seems to coat it suddenly, and readjusts her plan to include a glass of water before she starts in on the coffee. She realizes after another long moment of staring that her hands are trembling along with her legs. Her jaw clenches, and she knows she’s being ridiculous. It’s a damned shadow. It just sits there. It’s a minor manifestation of a mild psychosis secondary to major psychological trauma. It’s just a damned dark spot; it doesn’t change, doesn't want her to do anything, and it definitely doesn’t fucking talk to her.

She. Does. Not. Hear. Voices.

…

Up Now: 2

[wisherbysharlight]

WHAT IF... SANDERS SIDES BUT MAKE IT A TROPEY TEEN BEACH AU

Endgame!LAMP. Dukeceit, Remile

Just 2k stream of consciousness words from a plunny that grew legs TW for v slight underage drinking, one joking mention of violence, and a non-specific discussion of intrusive thoughts

-Janus has just moved there because his parents wanted to start a new "adventure" and he is a Stereotypical Teenager. Very "ugh MOM I wanna go back to my FRIENDS for my LAST SUMMER BEFORE COLLEGE"(most of his friends suck. He should not spend time with them. He does not know this)

His Parents buy him a surfboard and tell him to try it out as a way to get him to Shut Up

Hes a Skater Boy(cue music) so he picks it up super fast from like,,, youtube videos

 -He gets told to Get a Job if he wants to like, keep buying surf gear?

All the local kids work at like one restaurant/yacht club type place right on the beach

Janus gets hired as a host

 -Logan is a beach badge checker, Patton, Roman, and Remus are beachfront restaurant waiters but Roman just Really Wants To Surf, Emile and Virgil are Lifeguards, and Remy is a bartender

 -Janus is Very Good At Customer Service because Fake Smiles

Patton recognizes this Immediately

He shows him the Rage Closet which is a tiny room with an arm chair that locks from the inside where you can punch a pillow on your break when it gets to be Too Much

-Janus is Attached now and there is no getting rid of him

Patton Fully Endorses this and introduces him to the rest of the group

Janus Knows Immediately that LAMP is In Love but says nothing because he aint no snitch

-Remus surfs, but he also always wear a thong while doing it

Roman wears a full wetsuit and somehow still gets Board Rash. Remus is somehow immune and it infuriates him

 -Janus, not knowing that the twins live right on the beach cuz they are RichTM: Hey Ree I kinda wanna learn how to surf would you be able to teach me 

Remus, who religiously watches Janus surf every morning, but is absolutely willing to play this game: Yeah absolutely

Patton, later: “lets rinse off at the twins they’re right here” Janus: theyre.... What?!

 -Meanwhile, elsewhere, Virgil and Roman are double teaming Logan to drag him into the water with them cuz he’s pouting about losing a debate with their manager about how he didn’t really be mean to the dudebro who wanted to get his buddies onto the beach without paying, he was just enforcing the rules. And if the dude was so offended by Logan’s Very Accurate Dragging that he complained to management then, well, that’s his problem not Logan’s

 -Logan is never without a book. Ever. And its always a different book. Janus is starting to think he owns a library

One day he is just... reading a Physics textbook. Not taking notes or anything. Just reading. 

Roman is Very Very Alarmed by this because he is Gay and Math is Scary

"Roman I'm also gay that is not a determining factor"

"Yeah but you can't drive"

"...fair"

 -the first time janus has a shift with the twins, he cant stop staring, not just because hes like,,, super attracted to Remus but also because they are like Chaos Incarnate and yet somehow get the most tips??? He doesn't understand???

It's just cuz they are both Huge Flirts and Flatterers and the patrons dont care that they're not-so-subtly beating the shit out of each other right there on the dining floor because theyre just so charming

 -one of the bartenders gets aggressively snapped at by a customer and called "sweetheart" and before Janus can even begin to react Remy is there, sunglasses off, fire in his eyes, telling them to settle their bill and get the fuck out

Janus, used to City Restaurants- "Wont you get in trouble with the owner?!"

Remy, who knows Nothing Else But This- "What?? Not likely I only did it cuz Thomathy wasnt here to do it himself"

 -the restaurant is closed Monday and Tuesday so that is the Pseudo Weekend for the staff where everyone hangs out at the beach

Emile and Virgil take Tuesdays off but still work Monday’s cuz they feel better being the one watching over their friends

 -Roman, staring at Virgil on the lifeguard stand: ugh he’s so pretty I almost wish I was drowning just so he could give me cpr 

Janus: you wanna potentially get your ribs broken just for lip contact? 

Remy, staring at Emile on the lifeguard stand: listen, if that’s what it takes, I’ll take it

Remus, immediately going up to the lifeguard stand because he has 0 impulse control: hey my brother and cousin want you to break their ribs 

Virgil and Emile: excuse me?????

 -Patton will literally spend hours in the water. Logan physically drags him out to put sunscreen on him every two hours to the minute. Patton does not admit that he purposely "forgets" just so Logan will do so

Logan is Dark and has never used sunscreen ever but Patton is so pale and he just gets so concerned about him. Patton thinks its adorable

He has pages of research on proper spf determination.

Roman and Remus use spf 15 just on their faces and have never once burned in their lives

Logan wants to submit them for scientific study because that shouldnt be possible

Virgil calls Logan out on the fact that he also should be wearing sunscreen and Logan like... blue screens he cant believe in all his research he missed that

 -Patton is like... a ridiculously strong swimmer. Virgil still has a heart attack every time he goes for laps when there is the slightest hint of an undertow

Patton Knows This so he tries to stay in Virgil's sight line for the most part if there is an undertow. Or just dives over the waves again and again.

His nickname is Ariel. He thinks its just cuz of the swimming and the fact hes a red head. LAP all separately also tack on that its the swimming, the red hair, and the hnng pretty 10/10 would follow out to sea ala Prince Eric

 -first beach bonfire Janus goes to Remy is Fully In Emile's Lap like... half an hour in

he has had like maybe a sip of a beer

Remus says he still claims this is because he is a Clingy Drunk

no one will call him on it, least of all Emile

 -there is truth or dare. Roman may or may not skinny dip you have no proof

 -Logan gets infuriated that he cannot roast a marshmallow properly

Patton does it perfectly every single time but its ok cuz he shares and Logan eats it right from his fingers and Roman and Virgil are just in the background Trying and Failing not to be the Most Jealous

Patton thinks theyre upset they didn't get marshmallows and makes some for them too and there is lots of Significant Eye Contact involved

Janus is going to spontaneously combust if they don't get their shit together

 -Janus is out walking on the beach one night on a full moon cuz he cant sleep with everything so quiet around here when he sees a bright green patch out in the water and goes ...wait

he calls out to Remus and he comes into shore and is like "waves are perfect at night you should join me" so janus goes back and gets his board and they surf and chat for like the entire night

Janus finds out Remus couldn't sleep cuz intrusive thoughts were keeping him awake

Janus listens and doesn't judge, just lets Remus talk it out

They go back to shore and fall asleep on the sand next to each other like mid sentence still talking, now about whatever creative business idea Remus had, and get woken up by Logan's morning rounds like "come on guys you know you're not allowed to sleep out here" but they dont care theyre both just *blushing emoji*

-Logan Always Has A Notebook right? And a regular book he reads. And everyone assumes they are like Notions and Observations, but no, it’s actually blank paper and he uses it to sketch and then one day he leaves it behind and someone either Virgil or Patton finds it and flips through it and it’s all sketches of them and Roman and they’re like??? Actually really good? Anyway that’s how they find out Logan is actually minoring in art even though he’s majoring in something Very STEM 

And he never told his best friends because like almost all his pre college art is Them and he doesn’t want to be caught having Feelings and by the time it gets to college it’s been too long and he can’t tell them now 

Roman takes one of the sketches of him surfing and makes it his profile picture on All Social Media He Has and Logan is so flustered he nearly breaks his damn phone

Patton is so offended he didn’t get invited to Logan’s first showcase that he doesn’t talk to him for like two whole hours 

Virgil quietly asks if there is any art of all four of them, finds out there is, and makes a print and keeps it on his bedside table

 -They are all Pining Outwardly Now and its Worse

 -Remus : you have known them since pre-k please ask them out I beg of you 

Roman: You just dont get it 

Remus: I asked Janus out after 4 weeks what is your problem

 Emile: Virgil, I love you, you are my Partner in Anti-Drowning but you are so stupid 

Virgil: What???? All I said is that you and Remy are really cute and I'd love to be in a relationship like that 

Emile: I am not a violent person, Virgil, but I have the strong urge to smack you

 Patton, in the Rage Closet: They're all just so hOT and ReSPEctFUL 

Janus, waiting for his turn, trying to act like he cant hear him: I Am Looking Elsewhere

 Logan: I just don't understand why they were more upset that I didn't tell them than that I'd been making art of them for years?? Shouldn't that second part be worse??

Remy, who has been partial to Every Single One Of AMP Waxing Poetic About Logan: Yeah, no idea /s

 -the twins get into a surfing competition as a pair and everyone goes to see them and support them

Thomas airs the competition on every tv in the restaurant cuz he’s Proud of his Bois

They WIN cuz they are Creative and Talented and came up with all sorts of crazy tricks while they were fucking around in the water but it earns them Major Bonus Points for originality

 -Roman does the run off the podium and into Love’s arms trope with just like... whoever’s closest lets go Patton because he is a Waif and forced himself up front so he can see

The other two are Devastated because well shit but then Roman pushes through the crowd, still holding Patton’s hand, and gives them this smile and is like “remember in like second grade when we said we’d do everything together and made a pact on this beach”

Analogical: uhhhhhh yeah

Roman: holding you both to it. No take backs. This counts. Now kiss me, dammit, we WON and they DO MANY TIMES AND ITS REAL CUTE

 -Meanwhile dukeceit have Mysteriously Disappeared and No One wants to be the ones to go find them. They show back up, eventually. Janus has a branch in his hair and remus' hair is sticking straight up and when he opens his mouth roman glares at him and tells him in no uncertain terms that they do not want to know

 AnYWaY these are my children and I will gladly answer any questions about them. I left out Janus Backstory and Creativitwins Angst and Many Individual LAMP Scenes and Remile/Dukeceit getting together and Epilogue but can absolutely provide such things on request

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (20)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

All artists have a muse. An inspiration. Motivation, unwavering will. A signature of their own. It’s impossible to copy the work of an artist, because he always leaves a part of himself, a small detail, whether in the choice of shapes, lines, colors, etc., which allows us, little observers to recognize his work. We could take the example of Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Sandro Botticelli, Michelangelo, Andy Warhol and finally Salvador Dali. All these artists had a particular signature, a little something that made their works unique, inimitable. Yet many have tried to reproduce them in order to make money. And even if some of them succeeded, they quickly found themselves behind bars.

But Danny is an... Particular artist. His works are particularly... Bloody. Certainly, he’s an assassin, but an assassin who wants to leave behind a trace of his passage, a piece of him in this vast world. Something that will remind everyone that he existed. At least Ghostface existed. But if every artist has a muse... What's Danny's muse? To tell the truth... He's got two. The first is simply envy. His insatiable urge for blood, to hear the gentle howls of his victims and to see the authorities tearing their hair out in the face of the lack of clues, is the reason he does this. As for his second muse...

Well, his second muse is you. For him, you are a precious jewel that he must protect at any price. No one should approach you and he won't let anyone near you. Of course, you will have the right to have friends, but don't plan to spend too much time without him. Besides, he feels frustrated that you prefer Jed to him. His alter ego is so boring compared to him! And yet how many times did he tell you? How many times did he tell you to think carefully?

And yet you chose Jed. But what happened that night ... He will remember it forever. Those little chills he felt on your skin when his tongue ran through your belly, your chest. And your little moans...A twisted smile appeared on his face just thinking about it. He's going to make you languish, but he's going to enjoy himself. And if you change your mind... it is beyond the seventh heaven that he will take you.

But for now, he has a more urgent matter to deal with. Because tonight is the big night. Everything was ready. Hoggins had brought charges to McKellan, who of course had retaliated strongly. How does Danny know? It's a journalist don't forget it. During one of his nightly visits, he had spied on a conversation between the two men and judging by McKellan's tone, the exchange was muscular.

“it's been so long that I've been waiting for this moment ... You dared to attack my angel in front of me. It's time for you to pay. I'm going to make you the best masterpiece ever created." He said, looking at McKellan house.

He had checked everything. He knew everything by heart. The round of the guards, the presence of the camera, McKellan's habits... absolutely everything. No surveillance camera.... humph, he thinks he's so untouchable that he doesn't feel the need to have security cameras. Poor fool. You're going to bitterly regret your arrogance. And Hoggins is going to pay the price.

It does not enchant Danny to attribute this murder to another, but if it is to see Wilhelm go round in circles, the game is worth it. He had parked his van in a place well out of sight. McKellan's villa is a staple, isolated from the city. No neighbourhood, no one to see or hear anything except the guards. Danny will never understand the rich and their desire to get away from people. Even if in a way, it feels good to have nothing around you, except the birdsong and the rustling of the leaves. But for these people, it's mostly a way not to mix with the "plebe".

He put on his mask and proceeded to the villa discreetly. It's time for the show. It's time for the massacre. From the bushes of the rear terrace, he watched the guards stationed. He knows that in a few minutes they will move to the sides and go around up to him. He must therefore move forward without being spotted to the building. And indeed after a few minutes, the guards moved. They always start at the inside of the terrace before returning from the outer sides. It was therefore cautiously but without concern that Danny advanced, not without paying attention to the flashlight that often came in his direction. Once near the walls, he glanced inside.  

As expected, it was impossible to get in from the back as the number of guards was too large. But he knows where McKellan's office is, and he knows that in exactly 20 minutes, he's going to go to his office and lock himself in and listen to music. He always puts the volume to the fullest, a significant advantage since so no one will hear him scream. He will be the only one who has the privilege of hearing it. Perfect. Once he's dead, Danny will have exactly 1 hour to make his masterpiece and leave because the guards will start suspecting a problem because of the music. Obviously, their boss listens to it every day for the same time. So, if it goes beyond the usual time slot, it's not normal.

Danny passed on the right side of the villa, on the side of which McKellan's office should be. And indeed, the second window of the office is open, surely to ventilate the room. He climbed to the gutter and clung to the balcony to enter the room. And the least we can say, is that this was to be the richest room in the house. He had something in common with Hoggins.

The walls were white marble making the room brighter. The many decorations in gold and red, as well as carpet flooring of the same color, recalled the time of ancient Rome. The few sculptures also for that matter.

“A passionate man of Ancient Rome... that will make my pleasure even more... Living. He will not only be my best masterpiece... but also the masterpiece of this room. It would almost bother me to soil this place of his filthy carcass and pig's blood. But he has to pay for touching and insulting my little angel...my precious love.” He said looking all around the room.  

He saw multiple objects that could be used for him, including multiples knife that look much sharper than his own. He could steal them but Ghostface is not a thief. He had taken a rope that he had found in the garden shed a few nights earlier. Like all the strings he took... this one will help him keep his "work" still.

He had the diagram of his artistic project in mind, with every little detail, of what he was going to cut to what he was going to leave whole ... Nothing much. He looked where he could hide and wait to strike. The cabinet in front of the desk will be the ideal hiding place. As soon as he will be close enough... he will catch him. Suddenly he heard footsteps. McKellan is on his way. Danny hides in the cupboard and waited. McKellan entered, furious as ever.

“Hoggins asshole... after all the services I have rendered to you to enrich yourself like a fat pig, you dare to accuse me?? I should cut your balls off... And this little whore and her damn coffee... not only has it not closed but it also gains in reputation! I'm surrounded by fools.” He said heading to the CD player. “Maybe I should kidnap her and torture her...or sell her as a prostitute...I’m sure that she can make a lot of money...”

Danny's blood was boiling. How dare he imagine for a second making you a toy for filthy fat pigs???  For a bonus profit??? He wanted to jump on him now, he wanted to slit his throat, butcher him, tear him to pieces... But if he goes out now, the guards will hear him and his whole plan will fall apart. He's got to stay calm. He's got to stick to the plan. As soon as he's at the cabinet level... he can attack. McKellan set the music on and turned the sound loud enough for the guards outside the room to hear it. Either he's deaf or he's crazy. Or both.

He stood for a few minutes in front of the reader before starting to "waltz" with his eyes closed. He reached the level of the cabinet and once in his line of sight, Danny went out to knock him out with a blow. He used the rope to tie him to the chair. He knows that from now on, he has 1 hour to do what he has to do. And he intends to take advantage of it. McKellan awoke after five minutes, trying to get away. The music was too loud for anyone to hear, so he looked at the knives but was quickly attract by a sinister sneer.

“Well, well... You finally woke up. You have a beautiful office. In fact, you have a very nice house, I would almost be jealous if it were not yours. Such a beautiful home for a rotten man like you... It's a shame.” said Danny, playing with his knife.

“You...I should be honoured by your presence... but unfortunately, I'm not very friendly with psycho like you. Hoggins sent you, didn't he? he's just a bastard.” Said McKellan with disgust.

“Sorry to tell you, but I'm not a man you can hire... I am acting and I will always act on my own. See if I'm here... it's because you and I have to settle.” Replied Danny before sticking his knife in McKellan's leg, making him scream.  

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!!! I’M GONNA CUT YOU HEAD OUT!!!!

“You see... You attacked someone very precious to me... and if there is one thing, I hate more than anything in this world... is that a rotten man like you, touch on what belongs to me. I'm sure you're wondering who I'm talking about. The "whore" as you like to call her, the boss of the Nebula... No luck for you... She's mine. And I'm going to make you regret every word you say. I hope you enjoyed your last musical moments... But don't worry... I intend to make you the masterpiece of your collection. And my best signing. Let the show begin.  

He cut off the leg where he had planted the knife, with a dry blow, recovering it before it fell to the ground. He did the same with the second and put it all on the desk. He stopped for a few seconds to listen to McKellan's delicious screams about the "tragic" loss of both legs. What sweet music to his ears... But unfortunately, he can't enjoy it very long, he has a countdown to respect.

“Oh... It hurts? I'm really sorry... I should have gone more slowly to lengthen the pleasure. But don't worry... I still have material. And limbs to cut you up. It's too bad you can't see that.”

“Please please ! I... I will give much more If you kill Hoggins for me!  I can make you the richest and the happiest man in this pathetic city! All the women will fall at your feet! You don't need that little slut! She's good for nothing! Just a little whore who thinks she's going to make a career!”

" I don't think you understood. I'm going to tell you one last time. One...” Danny started, planting his knife in one of McKellan’s arms. “I don't work for ANYBODY. If you think I'm just a puppet, I want you to know that I'm just for myself. I'm only doing this for my one and only pleasure. Never, and I say NEVER, would I work for anyone, even less for a rotten man of your kind. But if it makes you feel any better, Hoggins is going to come and keep you company in hell. Two...”

He thrust his knife deep into MacKellan’s arm to keep him awake until he finished talking to him. He drew his face closer to his.

“I only need one woman and that's her. I won't let anyone.... ANYONE, treat her like a good-for-nothing. You threatened her, assaulted her, you even sent someone several times to kill her. She is mine and only MINE and I will not let anyone near my angel, you fat pig!”

Danny pulled his knife out of Mackellan’s arm before repeatedly stabbing McKellan's skull. He recoiled inwardly at the sight of this bloodied, lifeless skull. He cut off his arms, then cut off his tongue and cut off his belly like a pig. He took out all these innards, cut them to a certain length and used them to tie his victim once again, one end ending deep in the throat, like a snake coming out of his mouth. He made sure to hold his arms and legs on the top of the skull, like deer antlers. How can he do that? A magician never reveals his secrets. Once his work was finished, Danny took out his camera.

“Look at you, you’re a masterpiece....MY masterpiece! You get exactly what you deserve you Motherf*cker. Now my little angel is safe...Almost if we count me in the lot. Well! Smile for the camera!”  Danny said before taking a picture. “Oh, I almost forgot the message! It’s necessary to give a lead to this dear Wilhelm ... even a fake one. Hoggins... You might not like the next few days.”

He wrote a bloody message on one of the walls of the office, leaving the policeman and the guard thinking that Hoggins was the author. One way or another. Then he quickly but discreetly left the premises before the guards were alerted by the unusual extension of the music. He returned to his van, changed, put his Ghostface outfit and mask back in the bag before heading home. On the road, he couldn't help but stop and burst out laughing, a laugh as he thought about what he had just done. The adrenaline was still running through his veins, he could not calm down.

He took a few minutes to calm down, then take the road again and went home. He parked and looked at your window. Everything was off and given the time, it was normal. Everyone was asleep, no one to testify anything to the police. Everything is always perfect. He went up to his apartment, entered, closed the door and walked to his office with his bag in his hand. He put it all down on the couch and looked at his hunting board, a satisfied smile on his lips.

He took his red felt, which was still working despite the rage of the last time, and bared McKellan's face with a long cross. That's it. He's finally dead. And there's more to kill. Hoggins is next on the list. But Danny will let time pass before attacking him. For now, he's going to focus on you. His sweet little star, his precious love, his angel. He looked at his bag, perhaps a little visit is necessary? Anyway, you sleep then ... you're not likely to say much.

A light cool wind entered your room, but it didn't seem to bother you. You were warm in your duvet with a radiant smile on your lip. Danny, or rather Ghostface was above you, a big smile behind his mask. He stayed for a few minutes without moving before lifting his mask slightly to kiss your cheek delicately.

“You can finally sleep easy, my angel. That fat pig won't do anything to you anymore. But never forget that you belong to me. Sleep well my love, hoping I'll be in your dreams.” he whispered so you don't wake up.

He put a small piece of paper on your nightstand to warn you of McKellan's death. The word is simple: "He's dead." He knows you will understand who it is. He left as discreetly as he had come, to go to bed as well, despite the little adrenaline he had left. It's going to be a long night.

But Damn it was so delicious.

***

(I'm practically about to pass my code exam! I'm so happy! hoping we won't be confined to the date where I'll pass it. I want to thank you all as much as you are, you are almost 40 to follow the poor little French potato that I am! In the meantime, I hope you will love this chapter as much as the others! they all deserve to be appreciated so much! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

[neon-junkie]

some shy!Flaco and gn!Reader for y’all

Also a modern setting cause I LOVE the thought of Flaco driving around in classic cars with big snazzy sunglasses on 8) 

Modern Flaco is 100% a retired movie star. He used to play the antagonist role in classic western films. Whenever a western came out, people would say "I bet Hernández will be playing the villain again," and surprise surprise, he is. Everybody loves it though, he's good at what he does and very famous for it.

Only issue is, Flaco hates the fame. He played in those movies because he wanted to. The money was a bonus, but the fame is a downfall.

So many people would kill to be in the position he is/was in, and the thought makes him chuckle. It's funny how life works.

Flaco lives in Hollywood, as cliche as it is, but he loves being able to drive down scenic routes, to drive past his old studios and set locations, and to have everything he enjoys at his doorstep.

He owns a really nice 1961 Chevrolet Impala. It's black with a red interior, and he spoils that thing cause it's his one true love.

Flaco rides around often with the top down, cigarette in one hand, other hand on the steering wheel, with some big bad boy sunglasses on. He's quite the sight and he knows it.

But he ignores everyone. Bunch of women fawning over him at the traffic lights? Ignore. Idiot in the car next to him revving his engine, wanting a race? Ignore.

He once accidentally ran over Micah Bell and didn't give a shit. He shouted "watch where you're going, blondie!" and looked in his car mirror to see Micah picking himself off the road. He was fine.

Flaco has a loose routine, and every Wednesday, he picks up Black Belle from her fancy mansion and they go get something to eat. He always picks her up around midday, and their meetups can take anywhere from an hour to all day.

Belle met Flaco many years ago when they were put on set together, and they've starred in a few films over the years. Belle doesn't mind the fame as much, she's happy to sign autographs and pose for photos here and there.

The two usually get some form of lunch together, though most of the time they day drink and get hammered by 3pm. Flaco just gets a taxi back to Belles and passes out on her sofa, cuddling her Irish Wolfhound. He then walks and picks up his car the next day, or the day after, depending on the hangover.

"Where we going today, Hernández?" Belle asks as she gets in his car. It's her usual greeting for him.

"How about we do exactly what we do each week, and drive around until we pick somewhere?" Flaco suggests, as always.

So the two of them do exactly that. They cruize around, fussing over where to eat.

Flaco always keeps a carton of eggs in his glovebox, as gross as that is, just so him and Belle can throw one at Little Boy Calloway whenever they see him. He's a sellout, a washed-up, grumpy old man, and they love to torment him for being such a wuss.

Flaco drives by this small cliche American diner on the corner of one street. As always, the traffic lights change so he has to wait a while, but he'll peer in the window, eyes glistening at that young server inside.

"They're far too pretty to be working in there, BB," Flaco tells Belle, as always.

"Here we go," Belle mocks, rolling her eyes. Flaco does this every week, driving this specific route just so he can enjoy his five-second gaze at you through the window. You've never noticed, surprisingly.

"They'll be mine one day, just you wait," Flaco grins, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose as the lights change to green.

"How about today, huh? Let's go inside," Belle suggests.

Flacos gaze quickly flicks over to Belle. "You crazy?!" He shouts.

"I am, and so are you. Come on, pull up here," Belle points at the car park just down the street.

Flaco's mumbling under his breath but he does it anyway. Belle always gets her way, he's a sister to her, and Flaco's an only child so it's hard for him to deny his adopted blood.

"I'm not even dressed nice. I look scruffy. Why can't we just go another day?" Flaco grunts as he parks.

"You wear the same damn thing every week. Now come on, quit your moaning," Belle says as she gets out of the car.

"No, I don't! I'm wearing new pants this week, look," Flaco says as he points to his jeans.

"Oh wow. New pants that look exactly like your old ones? You're really dressed to impress here, ain'tcha?" Belle teases.

Belle leads the way, hurrying Flaco along, teasing him over and over. "You gonna ask for their number? Ask 'em out on a date? Maybe you can take 'em for a ride? Hm?" She pokes and prods at him. Flaco stays silent, frowning, his sunglasses covering up half of his sulky face.

Belle's energetic when she enters the diner, greeting you with a smile and asking for a table for two. You talk to them in your customer service voice, seating them at a booth by the window.

You know exactly who they are. Who doesn't? Though you haven't seen all of their movies, you know the stuff that they've been in is really good, classic western films. A genre that you've studied at college.

Flaco takes his sunglasses off, placing them on the table. He keeps his gaze down and tries to focus on the menu you've placed in front of him.

"Would you like anything to drink?" You ask them.

"A chocolate milkshake please, sweetheart," Belle smiles at you. You've heard that she's a kind woman but you weren't expecting her to be this friendly.

"Sure. And for you?" You ask Flaco, who keeps his gaze down.

"Ermm. Uhh. I'll just have the same as her," Flaco replies, quickly brushing you off.

You tell them you'll be quick with their drinks and leave them to it. You assumed Flaco was just tired, maybe his reddened cheeks is from the heat outside?

"A milkshake?" Belle mocks once you've gone into the back. "Hernández, you hate milkshakes!" She laughs.

"I panicked, alright?!" Flaco grumbles.

"Why don't we call her back over so you can fumble about even more as you change your mind?" Belle teases.

"No!" Flaco almost shouts. A customer nearby jumps out of his skin, intimidated by Flacos deep and sudden voice.

"Alrighhttttt," Belle grins. "You make sure you know what you really want to eat though," Belle talks to him in a baby voice. It always winds him up but since they're in public, Flaco can't make a scene and playfight back.

You bring the drinks over and the two of them thank you, Belle smiling up at you whilst Flaco keeps his head dipped down. "You ready to order?" you ask, and they both nod.

You take their orders and everything seems fine, so you head back into the kitchen to hand them over to the cook.

"You not want a side order of their number with that, Hernández?" Belle grins again.

"I should never have agreed to come here. You are the most embarrassing woman I've ever met," Flaco sighs, looking at Belle with the most blankly frustrated look he's ever pulled.

All Belle does is grin and enjoy her milkshake, urging Flaco to drink his own.

He does, and he can't handle the sweetness. But Flaco drinks it anyway, not wanting to make any more of a mess than he's already in.

The rest of their time there goes smoothly, enjoying their food and nattering away. Flaco slowly relaxes, but Belle notices the way his eyes flick to watch you every time you appear.

"So, you gonna ask? or have I gotta do it for you?" Belle asks.

"Why don't you feed me whilst we're at it? Maybe drive me to the bar so I can get blackout drunk and try to forget this humiliating experience?" Flaco groans, half chewing his food. He doesn't care and Belle's used to seeing him talking whilst he eats.

"Fine, I'll do it then," Belle rolls her eyes. Flaco goes to stop her but it's too late, she's called you over.

"We'll take the bill when you're ready, sweetheart," Belle tells you.

"Sure, no problem." You're about to walk off but Belle speaks again.

"Flaco, ain't there something you wanted to say?" Belle asks, grinning from ear to ear as the two of you look at him.

"Oh, erm..." Flaco mumbles, quickly wiping the ketchup off his stache with a napkin. "Could... could you send my compliments to the chef, please?" He asks.

"Of course! She'll be happy to hear it," you smile at him, quickly turning away to head into the back.

"Hernández!" Belle kicks him under the table.

"You can't put me on the spot like that!" Flaco frowns, trying to keep his voice down again.

"Fine, I give up," Belle sarcastically sighs.

"You do?"

"Yep," she shrugs. "You've won, Hernández. You'll have to pick them up in your own time," she sighs.

"Hmm. I've known you far too long to know that you don't give up this easily," Flaco squints.

"Nope, I've truly given up. No point wastin' my time when you won't co-operate," Belle shrugs again.

Flaco's suspicious but leaves it.

The two of them pay and leave, giving you a fat tip that makes your eyes sparkle. Belle insists you take it, Flaco nodding in agreement but still staying quiet.

Finally, they head off, leaving the diner and heading back to the car.

"Oh, shit! I left my purse in the diner," Belle sighs. "I'll meet you at the car, alright?"

Flaco's about to say he'll just come back with her but she's already ran across the street, flipping off the stranger that almost ran her over.

Flaco rolls his eyes and heads back. He starts the car, putting on his sunglasses and lighting a cigarette.

Belle comes round the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

'I knew I couldn't trust her, what's she done now?' Flaco thinks to himself.

"Why are you smiling?" Flaco snaps as Belle gets in the passenger side.

"This is for you," Belle mischievously grins, handing Flaco a piece of paper with your number on it.

"BB, why you gotta put me on the spot like this, huh? This is so embarrassing," he shakes his head, taking out his wallet so he can put the piece of paper away safely.

"Oh, don't you worry. They said they get just as nervous as you do," Belle tells him as she puts her sunglasses on, leaning her arm on the car door.

"They do?" Flaco asks, seeming surprised.

"Course. It's that natural attraction, Hernández," Belle teases.

"Oh, shut up you," Flaco swats his hand.

Maybe one day he'll be able to get her back, but for now, he needs to work up the confidence to call you.

[dwaynepride]

staring out at the setting sun

summary: dwayne sees how close reader is getting to hamilton, and it worries him.

words: 3,845

warnings: spoilers for 3x11 and 3x24

tags: @stanathanxoox​ @pageofultron​ @6adb0y​ @thegoodlonelydalek​ @consultingdoctorwholock​ @starryrevelations​ @thebeckyjolene​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​

a/n: this is part 1 of a 2-part fic. both parts are based off of ‘setting sun’ by lord huron

PART 2

I been waiting for you to come,   Staring out at the setting sun     You been running around again       With that boy you call your friend.

As the music thumps against the walls, Dwayne struggles to move through the crowd of people. Tonight is probably the most busy he’s seen it in a long while, and even the team is having trouble dancing and getting refills on their drinks.

Figures the crowd would hit after wrapping up a case.

Finally, Dwayne reaches the bar and comes around the side. And you hadn’t noticed him yet - you were much too busy pouring drinks and giving people their food. So as Dwayne gets behind the bar, he thinks for a moment that he’ll be able to slip in and lend a hand before you can notice. Pass out a couple beers and prove that his help is needed.

His plan doesn’t quite work out, though. “Dwayne? Why’re you here?” You shout at him over the music.

He winces lightly at getting caught, but there’s no use stalking around now. Dwayne quickly pulls a beer from the ice and hands it to a man while taking his money. “It’s boomin’, tonight! Figured you’d need some help up here.”

And Dwayne already knows what you’re going to say. Still, it pulls a smirk to his lips to hear you say it, anyway. “You worked all day. You deserve to have some fun, not work even more.” You move past him to grab a couple more glasses, but when he looks over, Dwayne can see your smile.

It only emboldens him.

“Nah, I’m happy to help!”

“Dwayne...”

“Don’t forget, it’s my bar. I can always order you to let me help.”

Even over the music, he can hear your snort of laughter. But you finally give in, letting Dwayne handle one side of the bar while you work the other. And Dwayne was being honest, he really did want to help. But maybe he had a hidden agenda. Maybe he just wanted to spend some time with you, even if that means working your asses off.

You and him haven’t had much chance together, lately. Maybe that’s on him.

And yeah, he’s tired. Was almost half-tempted to stay behind in the office and catch up on some sleep, but Dwayne’s glad he decided against it. Working with you again, side by side - it was nice. Sometimes, you both brush up against each other running back and forth, trying to fill out orders and keep the bar patrons happy. Once in a while, someone from the team comes up and Dwayne notices you chatting with them, yelling over the music.

Though, Dwayne needs to be conscious of how fast he’s working. It’s not truly his fault if he gets carried away in looking at you - he just glances over at all the perfect moments. Your hair’s a bit crazy and you’re only dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt, but it’s more than enough to make him lose his focus.

Strangely, Dwayne can’t recall when he’s been this happy, recently.

It just seems like everything’s been so rough, as of late. Brody leaving the team, dealing with the FBI, learning how to work with Gregorio. And yet, none of that affects him, right now.

The rush lasts for a good few hours until the time winds down to midnight. The music is slower, the team had gone home, and it seems like the people of New Orleans were finally giving Dwayne chance to slow down and really appreciate being in your company.

He comes over to the far side of the bar, where you’re organizing the bills. “You’re doin’ a great job tonight,” Dwayne praises with a big smile. You jump a little, twist your head around, and immediately mimic his smile.

“Thanks,” you reply. “You really didn’t have to help out. I know you probably would’ve wanted to have fun with your friends.”

Dwayne just gives a light scoff at that. “Well, maybe I am having fun with a friend,” he says. You give him a teasing look and go back to counting the bills, but Dwayne really had meant that.

And he knows this isn’t the first time he made a impulsive decision to do whatever it takes to spend time with you. To try and fully understand why he gets such fierce butterflies in his stomach for the bartender he hired only months ago. And the thought of maybe trying to move things to another level....

Well, Dwayne’s much too afraid of losing a friend. And a damn good bartender.

“Chris was trying to telling me something earlier. Apparently Sebastian wants to become a field agent?”

Instantly, your quest elicits a bark of laughter from Dwayne. “Yeah, ‘pparently so,” he answers.

It’s your turn to laugh, head shaking lightly. “It’s hard to imagine him with a gun, fighting bad guys and stuff. What do you think about it?”

Your head turns once again to look at him. Dwayne has to focus on the question in order to speak, and he gives a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s smart. Quick thinker. Don’t see why he can’t be a good agent, with some training.”

“Right,” you reply slowly. And then your smile gets a bit more mischievous. “So, do you think I’d be good agent?”

Dwayne blinks once, and then a little mischievous smile of his own appears. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna be givin’ you any ideas.”

“Ideas?”

“Yep. I’m way too busy to start lookin’ for another bartender.”

Your laughter sounds even sweeter than the slow jazz music from the stage.

Dwayne’s more than happy to revel in it forever, but as the doors of the Tru Tone open up and catches his eye, his easy happiness is instantly sucked away. Leaves a yawning pit in his gut where the warm pleasure had once been.

But that tends to happen whenever Mayor Hamilton is around.

And he doesn’t have to say a word to you. Regrettably, it’s as if you’ve got some kind of radar for the dear Mayor. Always knowing and recognizing his presence in the bar, as rare as it is. Dwayne suspects he only comes here for you (pissing him off is just a bonus.)

It also makes Dwayne wonder just how much time you’re spending with Hamilton to make you so attuned to him.

Dwayne looks to you, noticing how you’ve bounced up on your toes. Trying to keep your excitement underwraps, but Dwayne can see just how pleased you are to see Hamilton. But you don’t move from your spot at the register to greet him. Nor do you call out his name and wave. Because you’re working, and Dwayne knows just how serious you take your job.

For a moment, he thinks about keeping you behind the bar. With him. Away from Douglas Hamilton and his way of poisoning everything he touches. But the notion instantly fills him with guilt - Dwayne can’t just abuse his power, like that.

So, hard as it is, he forces a smile on his face and motions to the Mayor with his head. “Go. You’ve been working hard,” he says.

The way your smile goes wide should’ve made the butterflies worse. This time, it just fills him with dread. “Thanks, Dwayne!”

He tries not to stare when you come out from behind the bar to hug Hamilton.

-

And it’s driving me insane.   Does he make you say his name?     And you can’t get it off your tongue       Little girl, you are not so young

By now, Dwayne should know better than to think he can hide his feelings from Loretta.

She’s able to sniff out the storm cloud over his head in seconds. Always has, and sometimes, it can be a little annoying. Can’t a man brood in peace without being asked if he wants to talk? But today wasn’t one of those days - Dwayne swirling thoughts sometimes makes it hard to breathe.

“What’s wrong, Dwayne?”

That’s all he really needs.

“It’s Y/N,” he says simply. “And Hamilton. She’s been spending a lotta time with him lately, and I really don’t like it.”

His gaze is elsewhere, away from Loretta and the way her brows shoot up in surprise. He misses how she’s nearly smirks, but reigns it in at the last second. And as she steps closer, Dwayne feels her hand on his shoulder. “Have you considered that maybe you want her attention on you, instead of Hamilton?”

The question makes him frown in confusion, and as he looks up to Loretta, he instantly reads her face. And he scoffs at her. “I’m not jealous.” Loretta raises a single brow. “I’m not! I’m worried about her, Loretta. I don’t trust Hamilton as far as I can throw him.”

“Dwayne, she’s an adult. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” Loretta says calmly. And her words cause Dwayne to shake his head and look away. “Has it impacted her work at all?”

“....No.”

“Then let her live her life. And if you’re really so worried, keep an eye out for her. Protect her, if you really think it might go that far.”

But Dwayne doesn’t need to be told twice.

If he weren’t already on the Mayor’s ass before, then you just cemented Dwayne’s total focus on him.

-

Ain’t you worried what i’ll do?   And that boy should worry, too     Can you face me for what you’ve done?       Little girl, you are not so young

Eliza’s death should’ve been the only thing that weighed on Dwayne’s heart.

It had to be enough for him that Javier Garcia lost everything he had. It had to be enough that he sacrificed him in order to nail Hamilton. Not truly getting justice for Eliza had to mean something.

But when the news of Javier’s death came in, Dwayne felt more heavy than ever.

He hadn’t told the team - that can wait until tomorrow. They deserve to have a break, but that didn’t mean he could just forget about it. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet; getting lost in his thoughts and going over the suspects in his mind. Somebody who could gain something from Javier’s death.

The one name that kept popping up was Douglas Hamilton.

And every time it did, Dwayne’s gaze finds you. Happy and vibrant as ever, laughing with strangers up by the bar. Completely unknowing of the kind of man that Hamilton really is. What he’s capable of.

He spent the next few hours mulling over what he should say. Ignoring everybody’s prods for him to go back to his room above the office and get some sleep. No, this was way more important than sleep. And for all Dwayne knew, you could be in danger, as well.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Hamilton hurt you.

You’re the one who’s chatting while the pair of you clean up after the bar closes. Talking about the day - mostly just bitching about how late one of the delivery guys was and you were left waiting for a shipment of beer for two hours. The story really should’ve lightened Dwayne’s heart.

He was just thinking too much about Eliza. And Javier. And Hamilton....

So as you’re leaving that story and melting into a new one, Dwayne finally stops you. A hand grasping your arm, keeping you in place, uncaring around the empty bottles you carry. Your eyes flash up to him, looking confused, and Dwayne reluctantly meets them. “We need to talk,” he says simply.

Slowly, you nod and move to set the empty bottles down on the nearest table. “I noticed you were kinda quiet tonight,” you tell him carefully. And when your eyes come up to meet Dwayne’s once again, careful and troubled, it makes his stomach tight. “What’s wrong?”

Such a loaded question. And even after hours of thinking about it, Dwayne’s not sure where to start.

His hand falls away from your arm, but he stays close. Keeps his eyes locked on yours, hoping to convey how serious this is. “You know the man we’ve been investigating? Javier Garcia? The man who-” Dwayne had a pause and swallow down the lump in his throat. “The man who had Eliza killed?”

He knows you never knew Eliza, but you saw him in the aftermath of her death. A sad and angry and self-pitying Dwayne Pride. Not his proudest moment.

That’s what makes you nod sadly. “He’s dead. Was killed a few hours ago.”

Your eyes blink in surprise, and then shift in confusion. “How? Why?”

“Car bomb,” Dwayne says. “And I reckon he was killed so he couldn’t tell us things. Things that we need to know. That’s the deal we struck with him.”

Dwayne can tell you’re growing more and more confused. Wondering why he was telling you all this. What this all had to do with you. And maybe Dwayne’s just putting off the inevitable. But he takes a breath to brace himself. “I think the person who had him killed was Hamilton.”

Instantly, you pull away from him in a disbelieving shock. Scoffing at his words as if what he told you was completely ridiculous. And maybe to you, it was. “Dwayne, that’s not fucking funny-”

“I’m not tryin’ to be,” he cuts in quickly. “Javier was going to give us information on a lot of bad people. High profile people. And he mentioned Hamilton by name.”

“He’s a criminal, Dwayne! Or was. He’d say anything to keep from going to jail - you should know that.”

“He gave us solid proof. And I can’t think of anyone else who even knew Javier was gonna talk-”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is hard as steel. Cold in a way that Dwayne’s never heard before, and he’d almost preferred if you started yelling at him. Not watching him with a disappointed look in your eye. “Douglas wouldn’t just have somebody killed. Who the hell do you think he is?”

“I think he’s a man who’s afraid of losing his power,” Dwayne says simply. “A man who will do anything to keep it.”

You’re silent for a moment, taking his words in before scoffing. You take a single step away from him, and Dwayne reigns in his impulse to move closer. “Do you even have any evidence that he had Garcia killed? Or suspects? Anything?” You ask him. Though, it sounds more like a demand.

He hesitates, lips forming a line before he reluctantly shakes his head.

“Then he didn’t do it,” you conclude. “So don’t try to pin this on him.”

With a shake of your head, you finally move to walk past Dwayne, intending to leave. But it’s instinct that has Dwayne reaching out, catching your arm and gripping it tight in his desperation. And he just wishes you’d look him in the eye - make you see how serious he is. Make you see his fear. “Please, just listen. I already just lost somebody very dear to me. And I know this is all very hard to hear. But Douglas is dangerous, and I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

For a moment, you hesitate. And Dwayne thinks that he finally talked some sense into you. Made you see things for how they are.

But then you pull your arm away from him. And Dwayne releases it. “He’s not dangerous, Dwayne. But if you keep accusing my boyfriend of things he hasn’t done, then you will lose me.”

He lets you leave, and even as the doors are slammed shut, Dwayne’s legs don’t seem to want to work. He stands there in his quiet, empty bar. And as much as his motives were selfless and innocent - to keep you safe from Hamilton - Dwayne can help the sharp, piercing pain in the center of his chest at that word.

Boyfriend.

-

I’m fond of living, but I would have given it all   For the girl I loved     Oh, is he ready to die for you, baby?       Now that the deed is done?

As numb as Dwayne’s spirit is, he wishes his body would feel the same.

He can’t focus on too much of anything besides his aches and the events of the last twenty-four hours.

After everything that’s happened - after all the sacrifices Dwayne has made to get here - he was finally able to reveal Hamilton for the person he is. Finally able to bring some justice to all the wrong that man has done. And Dwayne can barely believe it, himself. He thinks he may be dreaming, but the smarting of his muscles and the light burn of his stab wound made sure that he was awake.

Though, if anything, his heart felt a little lighter. The team made sure of that.

And Dwayne was sure that one of the sacrifices he made was you. He’d been so afraid that his attempts to warn you against Hamilton might’ve caused irreparable damage to your relationship. Maybe he hurt you in some way that you can’t forgive.

So seeing you slowly walk through the sorry excuse for the doors of the Tru Tone, Dwayne knows he must be dreaming. Or at least maybe seeing things because he’s lost more blood that he realized.

Even from across the bar, he can tell you’d been crying. Red eyes and swollen cheeks and such withdrawn body language. So different from how he knows you to be, and suddenly. Dwayne’s own aches mean nothing.

You must’ve heard about what happened on the news. Because Dwayne knows for a fact that Hamilton is not man enough to call you himself.

As you approach, your eyes kept falling away from Dwayne. Looking sheepish, as if expecting him to start yelling and demanding you get out of his bar. But Dwayne says nothing; honestly, he doesn’t really know what to say. So you’re the one to speak up first. “Dwayne, I- I heard what happened. With Douglas. After what happened to the bar...” Your eyes float around the room sadly. He knows you loved the place almost as much as he did.

Dwayne does the same, and notices Loretta eyeing the pair of you.

“I didn’t want to believe Douglas had anything to do with it,” you continue lowly. “But then tonight...”

Again, you trail off. And Dwayne finally sets down the gloves he’d been holding. Cleaning the bar can wait. “You wanna talk?” He offers.

Immediately, you nod. And Dwayne leads you over to what’s left of the backroom. It reeks of smoke and he can’t hardly see much, but it’s private. Quiet. And Dwayne’s barely turned around before you’re on him. Arms around his middle, face in his chest, hugging tight as if he’d suddenly be ripped away.

The way his arms come around you - it’s instinct.

He doesn’t even have to think about it.

Holding you feels natural and right. And after today, hell yeah, Dwayne will admit that it feels good.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble against his chest. To afraid of seeing his face to pull back and say it clearly. “I should’ve listened. I shouldn’t have brushed you off when you were just trying to protect me. I just- I really didn’t want to believe that Douglas- that he could-”

You’re crying again. Dwayne can hear it in the way the hiccups fracture your words. Can feel your jumps in breath. And his hand eventually comes up to cradle the back of your head, letting his fingers card through your hair. He leans his head down, lips brushing your temple. “I understand,” he says. And Dwayne’s voice is just barely above a whisper. As if speaking louder would break this precious moment. “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“...You’re not?”

Dwayne has to breathe to keep from getting too emotional. Your voice was so small. So sad. “No, honey. I could never be mad at you. Never.”

And oh, how he wishes you could really, truly understand the depth of that response. How it’s not just something he’s saying to make you feel better. Wondering if you really knew how wrapped around your finger he is. And Dwayne wonders if he really should be angry, but he finds that he can’t. There’s no hot burn in his gut - only the vicious flutter of butterfly wings.

You and resentment just don’t fit in the same sentence together.

Eventually, your tears slow. And you pull back to finally meet his eyes. Dwayne’s still running on instinct - his hand comes up to fit along the curve of your cheek. His other settles on your hip, hoping to keep you close and with him. The sensation sends sparks of electricity up his spine. And he’s barely focused on whether it’s a good idea or not to be touching you, like this. If now’s the right time.

But you’re not pulling away. Surely that’s a good sign.

And it’s hard for him to believe any of this could be wrong. Because with your arms around his waist, fingers spread over a little area of his back, you seem to be drawing even closer to him. Not pulling away, like you had before. Dwayne hardly dares to breathe.

“Dwayne?”

You breathe out his name. It sounds like heaven. “Yeah?”

“When the bar’s back up and running, do I still have a job here?”

And despite his numbing of his spirit and the effect you’re having on him, Dwayne doesn’t even try to hold back his small bout of laughter. Neither do you. “‘Course, you do. Can’t imagine this place without you with me,” he replies easily.

Honestly, those words came out without his consent. A vulnerable look into his true feelings; much too bold and honest to pretend like it was anything else. It nearly scares Dwayne enough to make him break away. To prompt him into some kind of damage control.

But you don’t give him the chance.

You’re on your toes, and you’re kissing him. Soft and slow and sweet, and it’s a gut reaction to kiss you back with the same warm affection. You just feel too good and too gentle after these last few days of being so hard and angry at everything. It feels like he lost a piece of himself in the hunt.

Now, it’s easy to believe that maybe you were just holding that piece for him.

Your fingers press into his back, holding onto him even tighter when Dwayne tilts your head up to kiss you deeper. Faintly, he hears commotion in the other room. Other people might’ve finally showed up to help. Frankly, Dwayne can’t imagine caring, right now. Because you gasp against his lips, exhale a shaky breath, and Dwayne feels like he might die if he lets you go.

For just a few more moments, he can forget about the tears still falling down your cheeks.

I’m just waiting for night   and the fading light     of the setting sun.

[soulonfire13]

How about 3 through 8 for the video game asks?

Oooh these are all excellent ones.

3~ "Best game you've ever played"

Starting off with a very hard one to answer lol, but I think the best game(s) Ive ever played is a tie between "Prey" and "Red Dead Redemption 2". Both games Ive gone back to countless times and Im always finding something new and different when I play.

In Prey, I love, love, love the enviromental storytelling and how many different way you can solve the games mysteries and puzzles. It allows me to actually pick skills I want for that playthrough, and still be able to finish the game my way.

Rdr2, theres just so many little details and things that blow me away everytime I load into the game. Foreshadowing I might have missed earlier, realistic animals gorgeous thunderstorms ahhhh.

Both games also have excellent stories imo. Multiple points where I was sitting in my chair open mouthed and/or crying. So damn good. I love games where I have choices, even if the choices are small.

4~ "worst game you've ever played?"

For this one, I had to think a bit. I decided to pick a game that was the worst for me, personally; even though technically speaking its fine. Its also random as all heck hahahaha. Anyway that award goes to "Nancy Drew: Trail of the Twister"

I grew up playing the Nancy Drew cd rom games and that one just pissed me right off. The puzzles suuuuuck, especially for Nancy Drew (theres only a couple ND games with WORSE puzzles) but having to do the same puzzle like 4 times with no way to speed it up and having to watch the same aninations forever just threw any chance of me liking the game right out the window.

Also hated the storyline a bit more than other ND games and Ive played them all. Ive seen hokey storylines and obvious plot twists but this specific one was just.... bad.

5~ "Popular game series you just can't get into"

Theres a lot XD. I think the biggest is games like Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts. Theres just so much lore and so many games that while I respect the people who can get into all of it and actually know whats happening in those games; I will never actually play them myself.

I have watched a playthrough of the original Kingdom Hearts but thats about it.

6~ "Game that Changed You the Most"

I would say that the game that changed me the most was "Mario and Sonic at the Winter Olympic Games 2009" for the DS. It was my true 1st Sonic game. (I vividly remember my mom getting it for me because we'd been playing so many Mario games)

I immediately fell in love with the Sonic characters, Knuckles and Shadow being the og characters I ended up really liking and using for most of the events in the game. It was after I finished the game and was trying to 100% that I started really getting into Sonic as a series. The game has these collectables called "whitestones" that were scattered EVERYWHERE in the game. To find them, you button mashed near where you though there would be one and BAM another whitestone.

One of the characters you turn the whitestones into was Espio. And I was like; huh. This guy is cool. I should look him up. And that led to me finding and watching SonicX. Which led to me playing more Sonic games. Which led to me reading the comics. And the rest is history.

The Chaotix quickly overtook Knuckles and Shadow as my favorites (I still really like them) and eventually led to me making this specific blog! Being a sonic fan has been a huge part of my life for many, many reasons :)

7~ "Game you'll never forget"

"Sonic Heroes"! It will always be the most nostalgic and my favorite Sonic game. My brother and I split which teams we would play as and we would work together to complete the game. I got Team Dark and Team Chaotix and I absolutely loved playing both storylines so, so much. There was so many hours spent raging over the Rail Canyon level, and countless tries for the bonus levels and Chaos Emeralds. I put my blood, sweat and tears into that game and I loved every second of it.

8~ "Best Soundtrack"

Oooh theres so many I like ;-;. Skyrim's soundtrack is memorable and absolutely awesome. Stardew Valley has some of the best vibing music for a game. Sonic and the Balck Knight and Sonic Rush have some of my favorite Sonic songs. Rdr2 has a banger playlist of songs that cut DEEP. I could even cheat and say I like Miku rythm games and add a bunch of vocaloids to the list hahaha.

God I literally can't choose auuugh. Music is such a personal thing to me and I love video game music with a passion. Theres just too many to pick just one game jdhshdjfkfisysn

[fenweak]

As requested! This rec list features Kazer Kid Fics -- Jonny and Patrick both with kids and babies AND as kids and babies, with a small dash of de-aging and a spoonful of mpreg. 

⭐ for my personal faves

My Other Rec Lists 🍭 Rec me a fic? 🍭

The Ones Where They Have Kids

No Capes by sorrylatenew ⭐ - j/p as parents; implied mpreg

Husbands. Dads. Retired superheroes.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews + timestamp by jezziejay - single dad Patrick, teacher Jonny  ⭐

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

trust your intuition (it's just like goin' fishin') by poeelektra - 1988 as parents

They’re on the periphery of the Home Wares section of Target, heading with purposeful stride toward Sporting Goods, when Gabe declares that he wants a doll for his “Been Good” toy.

Every Little Thing He Does (is magic) by jezziejay - single dad Patrick

Jonny Toews is a bewitching man who moves into a mysterious mansion in a small town. Soon, he opens Bell, Book & Candle, a curiosity shop full of candles, lotions, etc., and is enthralling the children of local police chief (Patrick Kane), who believe he is a witch (but not a bad one.) But not everyone in town is appreciative of their quirky new neighbor, and it may take a little bit of magic for him to truly become part of the community.

Under Cover by heartstrings - 1988 as parents

"Just get in the fucking blanket fort, Kaner."

Feels Like Family To Me + prequels by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane plan, create, and obtain their family.

living next door to alice series by cinderlily - 1988 as parents

"It started with a phone call."Patrick and Jonny are suddenly given the opportunity to be parents. This is how they stumble through it.

some say love is a burning thing podfic by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

If anyone had told Johnny upon entering the NHL that thirteen years later he'd not only have a kid with Patrick Kane, but would be getting ready to go on a 'date night,’ he'd have said they must be smoking some pretty good shit.And then he'd have to wait a decade to eat his words.

In the Middle of the Night - 1988 as parents

Gone are the days when it took a cold, wet washcloth on his face to wake him up. Or: Five times Pat and Jonny's daughter wakes them up, plus one time they wake her up.

so show me family - single dad Patrick

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard

Fill It Up With Love by Frosting50 - single dad Pat; implied mpreg

So Pat’s senior year doesn’t turn out exactly like he’d planned. He still gets his degree in accounting, but he also gets a little girl named Emma. She’s all fat pink cheeks, curly brown hair, and blue eyes. She might have Ryan’s chin, but she’s all Pat’s. And the first time she falls asleep on his chest, chubby hand curled around his thumb, skin so soft and sweet he damn-near feels bowled over with how much he loves her. He didn’t know he could love anyone so much; it makes his heart feel too big for his chest, and he knows that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to give her the world.

peas & carrots by altri_uccelli - 1988 as parents

Unapologetic Halloween fluff, or: Jonny forgets what day it is, but Kaner's on it.

Can You Lyft Me Up? by Mullsandmutts - single dad Patrick

Even high profile athletes like Chicago Blackhawks Captain Jonathan Toews are forced to utilize paid transportation from time to time. An accidental "share my ride" selection on an app results in a life-altering ride with an mouthy Russian driver (Artemi), an unfairly attractive single father (Patrick Kane) and his adorable sassy (and color-matching-challenged) preschool daughter (introducing Molly Donna Patricia Amelia Kane aka Mo). Jonathan refuses to feel too sketch when he negotiates a plan with the driver to "accidentally" have more shared rides with his new friends. When Mo has a traumatic incident at day camp, Patrick's heart is broken and Jonny enlists the help of Temi and the ever-meddling Patrick Sharp to get smiles back on both Kane faces. Jonathan finds himself more and more drawn to Patrick but Patrick's fears of being a good enough parent for Mo and meeting all of her needs could keep them apart. Will Temi, the Sharp family and a trio of nosy aunts in Buffalo be enough to help Jonathan and Patrick realize what they could have together or will Patrick's stubbornness and Jonathan's fear of ruining their friendship keep them apart? Stay tuned to find out ....

Three by Linsky - i won’t spoil it 

Patrick doesn’t think he’s a pervert. But how would he know? Maybe a pervert is just a thing you are, and it doesn’t feel any different from being a normal person, until you do something perverted. Maybe that’s him.After all, he does have two names on his wrist.

All Your Memories by toewsandconfused - 1988 as parents; amnesiafic

Pat went to sleep a bachelor in the Trump Towers and woke up next to Jonny in the suburbs with three kids calling him Daddy. Struggling to figure out his new reality Patrick had ruled out dream, was banking on delusion because even though it meant he was losing his mind, it seemed safer than some kind of late-onset amnesia. He didn’t want to face that idea that this really was his life; that Jonny was his, that those beautiful kids were his, and he couldn’t remember any of it. The idea that the memories of their life together could be lost forever was too terrifying to deal with. Losing his mind was preferable to losing his memories.

Chelsea, Chelsea I Believe by empathapathique - single dad Pat ⭐

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't Let Go by aohatsu - 1988 as adoptive parents

“So you were already with the boy you saved when the fire started?”Patrick pauses, but shakes his head. “No, there was an explosion—I don’t really know what it was, but then it was just me and Tigre, and it’s like, in a situation like that, you don’t really think? You just do. So I grabbed the kid and went through the fire escape. It’s not like I decided I wanted to save anybody, it was just the only option.”

Always Be My Baby by juliusschmidt - single dad Patrick

The thing is, you don’t just grow up once.

as careless as you are certain - single dad Patrick 

March through August, 2015.

the one with the baby yentas series by forochel

Tazer has a son and Kaner is his son's kindergarten teacher.

It's the Magic of Risking Everything by conformityissuicide - single dad Jonny

When Jonny is thirteen he meets a small kid from Buffalo at a hockey tournament.

Then he has a gay crisis, a baby girl, and gets drafted 3rd overall by an Original Six franchise.

When he meets Patrick Kane again at prospect camp he doesn’t feel anything but excitement.

And then it all goes to hell.

"of gifts and fireflies" by huntersandangels - single dad Jon

Patrick Kane hasn’t lived a charmed life despite money flowing through his veins. The journey he is currently on, though paved with good intentions, proves to be a harder challenge than he could ever be ready for. The people he meets along the way give him a much more valued gift than his grandfather could ever dream of giving him. 

I'm gonna love you til my lungs give out by arenadomatthews - 1988 as parents

“Papa, Dad, you guys are retiring today?” Bryan asks, looking up at his parents.“Yeah buddy, we are. Are you gonna behave while Dad and I are doing our press conference?” Patrick asks.

“Duh, Dad. I'm not a baby anymore,” he scoffs.

“He's right, Pat. He's our big boy now,” Jonny adds.

“Yeah, I'm going into 4th grade,” Bryan boasts pridefully.Patrick and Jonathan are finally announcing their retirement after 20 NHL seasons. However, their retirement ceremony will come with a twist: they'll be publicly coming out and revealing their family

Your Daddy's Aim Is True by thefourthvine; podfic by isweedan - cup wish baby! ⭐

patch it up by gasmsinc - 1988 as parents

Jonny stares at his daughter for a long moment. She stares back, eyes unwavering. She has Kaner’s baby blues, but at five she’s already mastered Jonny’s dead on the inside stare. Her kindergarten teacher claims she uses the unwavering look to bully other students into doing what she wants, and it’s something they should work on at home, but Jonny’s baby is a natural born leader, and he’s not going to get in her way of becoming the president, or, better yet, the supreme ruler of the universe.

Your patch,” says Jonny.

Baby, It's Hot Outside by toewsyourheart - single dad Pat 

 Jonny goes for a popsicle and gets a little bit more than he bargained for.

Take All That's Left - divorced single dad Pat

It’s been 6 years now, and he’s grown to enjoy the city since signing with the Rangers to follow Anna, who’d found a job in Brooklyn.

But Chicago; Chicago was Patrick’s first love, all his important firsts – it’s all been hers, and having to leave had been heartbreaking. Too many memories from Chicago were heartbreaking, and yet he always yearned for the city, always felt more comfortable walking her streets than any other place in the world. No other place quite felt like home the way Chicago did.

Isn’t She Lovely by windsthatwhisper + podfic by kanetcews (lavenderharry) - wish baby!

It's nine in the morning when Pat and Jonny stumble down the stairs, sluggish with sleep.

There’s a baby carrier on the kitchen island.

Jonny blinks, blinks again, then turns to get a cup of coffee.

Recreation, Entertainment, Art, or Sport by trademarkgiggle

of course jonathan toews can juggle

so show me family series by peeks, tazer - teacher Pat

“Just admit you like him.”

“Shut up, Sharpy,” Patrick says, before he rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the smirk widening on Sharpy’s lips. “Don’t you have your kids’ parents to bother?”

“No, my last kid left a couple minutes ago, so I’m totally here to watch you and Jonathan Toews make heart eyes at each other,” Sharpy laughs, waltzing into Patrick’s classroom. He immediately makes his way to see Sadie, who greets her dad with a hug.

(In which Patrick Kane is terrible at feelings but luckily, Patrick Sharp is a total bro.)

The Ones Where They’re With Kids

In My Blood and In My Bones + Nothing Sweet or Gentle by fourfreedoms ⭐

Patrick’s not really into dudes—he’s done that whole thing a couple of times—that’s rock-n-roll after all, but god, when Jonathan smiles, he looks really good.Johnny is a nanny. Patrick's a musician. They fall in love. Inspired by the movie What Maisie Knew.

the kids are alright

Patrick works at the sporting goods store Jonny takes his peewee team to for equipment.

given to us as free-flying souls by Mayhem10

Jonathan had never really considered himself particularly good with kids. He didn’t avoid them or anything and it’s not like they burst into tears when they saw his face, but he never was exactly sure what to do with them, these little people running around at waist height. It just wasn’t his area.So, of course, Patrick was basically the child whisperer.

(or five times Jonathan saw Patrick with kids and one time Patrick saw him)

Hide Your Face So The World Will Never Find You (Paper Faces On Parade) by huntersandangels

Jonathan Toews, farm owner and guardian of his nephew, is in desperate need of capable farm hands. Patrick Kane certainly does not fit the description but when a mutual friend confides in him that Patrick has lost everything he owned and is in serious need himself and offers Jonathan money to hire him, how can he say no?

Patrick Kane loves statistics and spending his money on thoroughly planned ‘adventures’ for his friends when he’s not partying away the rest of his fortune. If he wins the bet he can continue to plot freely but if he loses his extra curriculum activities have to stop. He agrees to go on an ‘adventure’ himself and settles in the Toews Farm posing as a farm hand. But as the time goes by, the less pretend it feels-and the more he enjoys Jonathan and Etienne’s company and the quite life in the farm; to the point where he’s not sure whether he wants to win the bet or lose...

Baby, You're the One by jezziejay ⭐

6k words of Jonathan Toews having feelings about babies. And feelings about Kaner. And feelings about putting a baby in Kaner.

The Ones Where They Are Kids

The Cat and the Fiddle series by james - childhood soulmates!

When Donna's son is four, he creates an imaginary friend.

i want to know what you know by sointimate - childhood sweethearts

Patrick is six years old and he's about to do the scariest thing he's ever done in his whole life.

Colorblind by july_v ⭐

Jon is five when he meets Patrick. It's also the time he begins to understand colors as more than an abstract concept.

How to become a man  series+ coda by liketheroad, mockturtletale

In which Kaner gets spontaneously de-aged into a six-year-old, and he and Tazer both have a lot of growing up to do.

Romper Room by james - de-aged 1988

Sharpie doesn't really think this should be part of his duty as alternate captain. Luckily, none of this is his fault. A.K.A., the one where Kaner and Johnny are five.

you ruined everything in the best way by thisissirius + podfic by exmanhater .⭐ - de-aged Saader

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?

"The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?

"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"

"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

don't worry about your body - de-aged Jonny

No one said anything. Everyone stared at each other then down at the tiny human being that was standing where Jonny had been. Kaner felt his mouth go entirely dry, and his stomach drop out from underneath him.

What the fuck, man.

Can You Picture It? by RemyJane

In which Kaner turns into a baby and everyone besides Jonny seems to understand. Includes excessive cuddling, ridiculously adorable baby-Kaner, and feelings. Jonny eventually figures everything out.

Never Getting That Shirt Back by ice_hot_13 - de-aged Pat

Patrick is de-aged into a toddler, and when he's with Jonny, he isn't a holy terror.

Je T'aime by banks99 (Nodiggity15) - de-aged Jonny

“He won’t take a bath. He’s arguing with me. It’s like he didn’t even change at all.” Kaner’s not pouting, fuck you very much.

MPREG

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn ⭐ -mpreg!pat

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

private passions and secret storms (all the secrets series) by CoffeeKristin, Frosting50  - mpreg!pat

Jonny’s life is good - great even. He loves Patrick and their kids, and even if they don’t always have time for each other, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. But when Jeff Carter comes into his life, Jonny’s world gets turned upside down. It’s going to take everything he’s got to convince Patrick to give him a second - maybe even a third - chance.

Patrick’s blindsided by Jonny’s betrayal and putting his family back together is a lot harder than he expected when their past comes back to haunt them.Can love conquer all?

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Aka, I wanted some 1988 w/ a baby feels so I wrote this blurb of a thing in about seven minutes.

efficacy by thirteentorafters - mpreg!patrick

“You,” Patrick says, jabbing a finger angrily at Jonny. “Are gonna fucking help me, dickface.”

Opening his mouth to ask what the hell is going on; Jonny’s eyes drop to Patrick’s stomach. Jonny is acquainted with Patrick’s naked body and the last time they met, Patrick wasn’t fat. Or paunchy. Except that doesn’t look like usual fat. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, ‘oh fuck’,” Patrick says, imitating Jonny’s tone. “You knocked me up, asshole. What are you gonna do about it?”

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Looked So Fine (I Just Had To Speak) by svmadelyn - !!!! ⭐

Patrick Kane’s talking penis maintains a ‘to do’ list. It is as follows:1. Jonathan Toews

Phone Tag by hawkeytime (jayyloo) - mpreg!Jonny

"Hi mom. Sorry I couldn’t catch you, so I guess I’ll just, uh.. leave a message. See, the thing is… my super-potent sperm may or may not have managed to knock Jonny up. Okay bye."

"Yes, hello, is this Hockey Canada? I just want it written on the record, today, June 31, 2015, that my incredibly improbable unborn child with Jonathan Toews will be playing for America. Yes, I’ll hold.

"Or: Pat accidentally knocks Jonny up. A saga told in a series of voicemails

A Royal Baby - mpreg!Pat

A cough from the doorway cuts Seabs off mid sentence. Duncs is standing watching them, a particularly somber expression on his face. "Jonny, I'm sorry to interrupt but you have a visitor that you'll want to go see right away.""Now really isn't a good time," Jonny tells him, not even putting down his fork."Trust me Your Highness," Duncs says, "This will be worth it."

[Patrick and Jonathan think their time brief time together at the Olympics is all they can ever have. Patrick's ensuing pregnancy proves otherwise.]

sun sweet berries of the earth series by gasmsinc - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

There is a spirit living in Patrick State Park.“Listen,” says Jonny. “I didn’t mean to step on your crown.”The spirit’s bottom lip wobbles.

Tame the Roads That Can't Be Tamed by Linsky - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

Patrick’s flown a million times. He’s never gotten airsick before. Even on last year’s epic flight to Denver, when they hit massive turbulence and half the team was groaning over barf bags, Patrick’s stomach was fine. And maybe he’s sick, sure—but why doesn’t he feel sick the rest of the time? Why is it only mornings and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh fucking no.

(Or: In which it is difficult to be a wolf in the NHL, especially when you're not that good at condoms.)

Carve His Name With Pride ⭐  - mpreg!Jonny

Jonny leaves behind a home, a house, and a hockey career the month after he learns that he’s pregnant.

Eyass - mpreg!Jonny

"I dunno," Kaner tells him. "Whatever you need, man. You’re having a baby! That’s a lot of work. I want to be here for you."

Somehow, in the dozens of conversations he’s had with teammates and friends and family in the past few days, no one has said those exact words to Jonny: “you’re having a baby”. He has to comb his fingers through his hair and take a deep, steadying breath to compose himself.

Kaner notices and smiles at him; a crooked, beautiful thing. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Heartburn and Survival by dedougal  - mpreg!Jonny

They were in Canada when Jonny found out he was pregnant. Afterwards, Jonny used that as a point in his bulleted list of arguments about why Jack should represent Canada but, to be entirely truthful, finding out in Canada - finding out anywhere - was pretty disastrous.

Three Cups and a Pup by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume  - mpreg!Patrick

The Story of Alpha Jonny and Omega Kaner getting their shit together and learning how to be Adulting Adults (Finally)

Chips and Cribs by whatislife - mpreg!Jonny

“What do you mean there are no chips,” Jonny asks from where he is standing by the island, hand resting on his stomach. “Weren’t they on the list? Did you not buy them?”(Patrick just wants to sleep.)

[shoyodon]

𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!

Hi! oh my gosh It feels like my blog grew really fast? I’m really grateful to every one of you and I’m so glad that I get to do what I love while also making you guys happy! My 500 follower celebration may not be the most exciting or original but I wanted to do something different for the occasion! Im putting my WIPS on pause and opening up prompt requests! 

Send an ask with a number w/ 2 characters max and I’ll write a short fic or HC (depending on prompt) about it!  Both HAIKYUU! and BNHA characters are available!

*depending on amount of requests, I will cap the amount of requests I take on, sorry 🥺

Requests closed!!

The prompt requests will be open until tomorrow at 6pm CST so send them in! below is the prompt list, all credit for this list goes to @marauder-exe​ !

Angst

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you just shut your mouth ?”

“wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?"

“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”

“What happened between us?”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”

“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”

“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“And I thought you loved me."

" And I thought I loved you."

" Aren't you even going to cry?"

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”

“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”

“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”

“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”

“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

Fluff

51. “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

52. “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

53. “You smell really nice.”

54. “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

55. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

57. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”

58. “You’re comfy.”

59.“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

60.“But I want to hear you sing.”

61.“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

62.“Care to give me a back scratch?”

63.“I think I love you.”

64.“Your bed head is really cute.”

65.“How about a kiss?”

66.“You made this for me?”

67.Aw, you’re blushing.”

68. Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”

69. “Let me help you with that.”

70. “I don’t want to forget this moment.”

71.“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

72.“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

73.“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

75.“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

76.“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

77.“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

78.“No, it’s fine.  I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

81.“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”

82.“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

83.“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

84.“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

85.“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

86.“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “

87.“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

88.“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”

89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

90.“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”

91.“It was always you.”

92.I love you in every possible way.”

93.“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

94.“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”

95.“Duck, you idiot!”

96.“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

97.“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

99.“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

100.“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

Sarcasm

101.“Define normal.”

102.“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

104.“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

105.“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”

106.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

107.“And you wonder why you’re still single.”

108.“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

109.“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

110.“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”

111.“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”

112.“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”

113.“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

114.“My middle finger salutes you.”

115.“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”

116.Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

117.“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”

118.“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

119.“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”

120.“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

121.“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

122.“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

123.“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

124.“I need therapy after this.”

125.“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”

126.“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”

127.“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”

128.“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”

129.“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

130.“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”

131.“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

132.“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”

133.“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

134.“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”

137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”

138.“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”

139.“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”

140.“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

141.“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”

142.“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

143.“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

144.“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”

145.“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

146.“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

147.“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.

148.“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

149.“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”

150.“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

Drama

151.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

152.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

153.“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”

154.“I know you lied to me.”

155.“I’m not even sorry.”

156.“You backstabber!” 157.“I never want to see you again.” 158.“You never mattered to me.”

159.“I knew this was a bad idea.”

160.“Rot in hell.”

161.“It was supposed to be a secret!”

162.“No one loves me.” 163.“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 164.“You made me cry.” 165.“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 166.“How DARE you?!” 167.“I know you’re not talking to me…” 168.“I SAW you with him/her/them!”

169.“Just leave me alone.”

170.“What did you do?!” 171.“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”

172. “Just admit that was extra…”

173.“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 174.“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 175.“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 176.“There’s something I have to tell you…” 177.“I can’t do this anymore.” 178.“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 179.“I never loved you.” 180.“It’s too late.”

181.“Quit ignoring me.”

182. “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”

183.“I love you. I’m sorry.”

184.“I don’t want to be friends.”

185.“Can we please pretend I never said that?”

186.“Friendzoned again.”

187.“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.”

188.“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.”

189.“I was there for you when no one else was!”

190.“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.”

191.“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.”

192.“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…”

193.“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.”

194. “I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.”

195.“When I said I loved you, I meant it.”

196.“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”

197.“You were the one that left all those notes for me?”

198.“You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.”

199.“We agreed this was just physical!”

200.“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Stuck in reverse - playlist

You can find it on Spotify here. 

Okay, let’s talk about it! 

Sam Smith – Fix you

I remember crying to the original song (by Coldplay) back in 2005. Whoo boy, lots of teenage feelings!

I’m not the biggest fan of Sam Smith’s music, but one day I was just driving home from work and this song began playing on the radio and by the end of it I could barely see the road.

// When you try your best, but you don’t succeed When you get what you want, but not what you need When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep Stuck in reverse And the tears come streaming down your face When you lose something you can’t replace When you love someone, but it goes to waste Could it be worse? //

That one line – stuck in reverse – felt just so perfect for a story set in the universe where people invert themselves back and forth.

It became one of the three main songs that inspired me to write the whole damn thing, and also the only title in the story that is not a title of a song as well.

Chapter 1: Ben Platt – Ease my mind 

This is one of the songs I have on my daily playlist, I just love it, and the lyrics are so fitting:

//Most days I wake up with a pit in my chest There are thoughts that I can’t put to rest There’s a worry that I can’t place

Most nights, I am restless and quiet won’t come So I lay there and wait for the sun There’s a trouble that won’t show its face

You came out of nowhere and you cut through all the noise I make sense to the madness when I listen to your voice//

We learn more about the nightmares in the next chapters, but it all starts here. That melancholic vibe stuck with me for the rest of the story I guess.

Bonus song: Lewis Capaldi - Before you go

The combat scene in one song, or at least what I imagined was going through Reader’s mind at that point.

//I fell by the wayside like everyone else I hate you, I hate you, I hate you but I was just kidding myself Our every moment, I start to replace ‘Cause now that they’re gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say When you hurt under the surface Like troubled water running cold Well, time can heal but this won’t//

Have you ever felt that way? Trying to hide your broken heart under anger? I don’t know, it just resonated deeply.

The second part of the song kinda seeped into the next chapter:

//Was there something I could’ve said To make your heart beat better? If only I’d have known you had a storm to weather

//Would we be better off by now If I’d have let my walls come down? Maybe, I guess we’ll never know//

Chapter 2: Kaleo - I can’t go on without you

Another song from my daily playlists (side note – I saw Kaleo once live on a music festival and they were mind-blowing, you should really check out more of their work).

It worked with the story because of its desperate and painful mood.

Bonus: Calum Scott - Dancing on my own

Holy shit, I FELT this one. (Been there, done that). Of course I had to write it into Reader’s past. Actually, I wrote it first and then found the song, but it doesn’t matter, that’s the flashback scene right here:

//Somebody said you got a new friend Does she love you better than I can? And there’s a big black sky over my town I know where you’re at, I bet she’s around And yeah, I know it’s stupid But I just gotta see it for myself I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her, I’m right over here, why can’t you see me? And I’m giving it my all //

Chapter 3: Billie Eilish – Bad guy

No feels, pure bop. This song is so BADASS, I really needed to get that vibe into the undercover mission, I didn’t want Reader to be an emotional mess and nothing else, you know?

Bonus: Tones and I – Dance Monkey

I shit you not, I’ve had that one on repeat for the dance scene. There is something incredibly seductive in that beat, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

Bonus: Kings of Leon – Closer

It just makes my heart clench and leaves me breathless.

Chapter 4: Ben Platt – Bad habit

Ah, that was the moment when I cursed at myself for using Ease my mind for chapter 1, but we already talked about it.

Even though this song is very emotional, it’s not that heartbreaking, you can hear a faint smile here and there and it just makes my heart sing.

And oh my god, those lyrics:

//You always said that I’d come back to you again ‘Cause everybody needs a friend, it’s true Someone to quiet the voices in my head Make ‘em sing to me instead, it’s you Hate to say that I love you Hate to say that I need you Hate to say that I want you But I do Bad habit, I know But I’m needin’ you right now Can you help me out? Can I lean on you? Been one of those days Sun don’t wanna come out Can you help me out? Can I lean on you?//

They just work with that plot, you know?

Bonus: Dodie – Sick of losing soulmates

Another song that just resonates with the story.

//What a strange being you are, God knows where I would be If you hadn’t found me, sitting all alone in the dark A dumb screenshot of youth Watch how a cold broken teen Will desperately lean on a superglued human of proof

What the hell would I be, without you (what the hell would I be) Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth (hide the truth)

'Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin I can finally see, you’re as fucked up as me So how do we win?//

Chapter 5: Adele – Someone like you

The whole damn sunset scene + this song on repeat = feels

The pain in her voice? God, it just reduces me to a puddle of tears.

Reader could just sing it at some point to Neil almost word for word.

Bonus: Passenger – Let her go

Okay, the case of that one is quite funny, because I kinda needed to figure out how to get from point A to point B of the chapter, and I was browsing Spotify looking for „campfire songs” or something like that. Of course I’ve heard this one before, but I’ve never actually focused on the lyrics.

And oh boy, suddenly it all became clear.

Headcanon time – in my head, Wheeler and Neil are close friends, she treats him a bit like a younger brother, I just can imagine they know each other very well at that point. Of course she knows hows about his past. Of course she heard about Reader. And she thinks they are both silly babies and they should just kiss, right? That’s why she chooses that song.

Those lyrics – they fit Neil’s backstory so damn well.

//Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go//

And he was stupid enough to let her go. Because his timing was off.

Those lyrics are also perfect to make Reader think about his ex-girlfriend, because of course that is what you’re gonna it’s all about.

Bonus: Del Amitri – Tell her this

Ahh, there it is – the second out of three main songs for Stuck in Reverse.

I remember the moment I found out that Rob Pattinson sings and writes music, then I listened to some of the songs and my heart went whoooosh. So I just had to make Neil play a guitar, I just needed to find out what song would be The One.

Do you remember that flashback about them both watching a tv show on his couch? Here, you’re welcome. 

I recently started rewatching Scrubs and when I got to that episode – ding, ding, ding!

This is the ultimate “hey, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have let you go, I’m an idiot and I love you.”

Chapter 6: Imagine Dragons – Next to me

I adore that song. It warms my heart. I think it fits Neil and Reader’s relationship.

And I needed all the fluffy feelings to switch the tone of the story to something lighter.

Bonus: Michelle Branch – Everywhere

This one is a silly bop, and it always puts me in a good mood. A nice song to listen to when you are happy, in love, and you are making breakfast.

Bonus: Ashlee Simpson – Pieces of me

This one (same as the one before) came to me from Zach Braff’s workout playlist, haha. I mean I almost forgot about it, but it makes me smile every time I hear it, and the lyrics work nicely:

//On a Monday I am waiting Tuesday I am fading And By Wednesday I can’t sleep Then the phone rings I hear you And the darkness is a clear view Cause you’ve come to rescue me

Fall, with you I fall so fast I can hardly catch my breath I hope it lasts

It seems like I can finally Rest my head on something real I like the way that feels It’s as if you know me better Than I ever knew myself I love how you can tell All the pieces, pieces, pieces of me//

Bonus: Kaleo – I want more

Is there such a thing as a warm melancholy? Because that is a vibe I get from that song.

//Turn back, leave all you had Forgive, I’ll forget 'Cause what we need is what we once had Time won’t stand still Just say you will 'Cause I need you there and now

If you leap, I’ll come falling too Running deep 'til that rivers through I don’t mind what you have to do 'Cause I won’t think less, less of you

Yes, I want more, more Looking for more I want more, more 'Cause I want more

Old grounds Feels like the weight has been lifted away So don’t you leave me there wanting more//

Chapter 7: Ben Platt – In case you don’t live forever

I mean it’s not my fault that Ben’s songs make me FEEL things, damn it.

The whole damn song = utter heartbreak when you think about Neil coming back to Reader before he goes back to Stalsk-12 to open that damn lock.

//I, I’ve carried this song in my mind Listen, it’s echoing in me But I haven’t helped you to hear it We, we’ve only got so much time I’m pretty sure it would kill me If you didn’t know the pieces of me are pieces of you

I’ve waited way too long to say Everything you mean to me

In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you’ll ever wrap your head around In case you don’t live forever, let me tell you the truth I’m everything that I am because of you//

Bonus: Charlene Soraia – Wherever you will go

Why am I doing this to you? Because we all like pain.

This one is for the scene on the deck:

//So lately, been wondering Who will be there to take my place When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all Then between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own

If I could, then I would I’ll go wherever you will go Way up high or down low, I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I’ll find out A way to make it back someday To watch you, to guide you through the darkest of your days If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all Then I hope there’s someone out there who can bring me back to you//

Bonus: Rhys Lewis – No right to love you

No light, only pain and suffering.

//'Cause I have no right to love you When I chose to walk away I have no right to miss you When I didn’t wanna stay And I have no right to need you And I knew what my heart was gonna lose I have no right to love you But I do, I still do Yeah, I still do//

Bonus: Knox Brown x Gallant – Reignite

This song is just so incredible, it makes my palms sweat and my mind going places. Yep, it was on repeat.

Oh you know which scene this one is for.

Bonus: Freya Ridings – Lost without you

The last dialogue. On repeat. Because this song breaks my heart and leaves me a sobbing mess.

//Strangers rushin’ past Just tryna get home But you were the only Safehaven that I’ve known Hits me at full speed Feel like I can’t breathe And nobody knows This pain inside me My world is crumbling I should never Let you go I think I’m lost without you//

(OI, SPOILERS) 

Chapter 8: Florence + The Machine – Never let me go

I have only one thing to say:

Fuck you, Nolan.

Third out of three.

//And it’s over and I’m going under

But I’m not giving up I’m just giving in

Oh, slipping underneath So cold and so sweet

In the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold And all this devotion, well, I never knew at all And the questions I have for a sinner released In the arms of the ocean deliver me

(Never let me go, never let me go Never let me go, never let me go)//

Bonus: Sasha Sloan - Dancing with your ghost

Suffer with me.

//Yelling at the sky Screaming at the world Baby, why’d you go away? I’m still your girl Holding on too tight Head up in the clouds Heaven only knows Where you are now

How do I love How do I love again? How do I trust How do I trust again?

I stay up all night Tell myself I’m alright Baby, you’re just harder to see than most I put the record on Wait 'til I hear our song Every night I’m dancing with your ghost Every night I’m dancing with your ghost//

[third-rail-vip]

20 OTP Questions

Tagged by @tarberrymentats​ thank you so much for the tag! <3

I’m going to tag @minuteminx​ @asaara-writes​  @pchberrytea​ @mayihavethisdanse​ @potatocrab​ @laurelsofhighever​ and anyone else who wants to, tag me because I’d love to see your OTPs!!

I might have gone a bit overboard, so I’ll put most of this under the cut…

Mac x Ivy

1. Who can outdrink the other?

Oh, definitely Mac.  They learnt that the first night they met, not that she was trying to keep up it’s just Ivy is a thorough lightweight.  He didn’t like questions, she can’t help but ask them, so the deal was one shot per question.  She is smol and cannot hold her booze.  Two centuries on ice and she seems to have lost some of the tolerance she built up in college.  Magnolia had to tell Mac to make sure she got to the Rexford ok.  Of course, en route she picked up multiple jobs and talked Fred into giving them 500 caps for going to Hallucigen.  Mac was gobsmacked, it was the beginning of a beautiful if unexpected friendship.  

These days if you give her too much, you’ll find her sat on the floor in the corner of Railroad parties with Tinker Tom talking conspiracy theories.  

2. Who says “i love you” more?

Probably Mac, but not because he loves more, but because he’s definitely the more vocal of the two of them.  Words are one of his main love languages.  Plus, he’s lost a partner before (which Ivy hasn’t) and there were things unsaid in that relationship that he’ll always regret, so he knows the importance of telling the people you love how you feel, and telling them often.  Ivy is more of a show than tell, even though she’s the type to fall first, she’s been hurt before by exactly that so she’s slower to use the words and breaks them out less often.  She shows she loves him through her actions.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

Very much Ivy, not that Mac doesn’t to some degree, but this is a scary new world for Ivy and she feels very much safer having someone there.  She was a wreck when he was away in the Capital Wasteland and really struggled to sleep at all.  She is more likely to not be able to get to sleep if she’s alone.  Mac is more likely to have a disturbed night, waking up feeling an absence.  

4. Who swears more?

Ivy.  She may look sweet but she really can have a foul mouth.  She will basically swear for Mac as well.  He’ll cut himself off and she’ll fill in the blank.  She resists the urge, or at least desperately tries to pick other words at the last second when the kids are about.  It doesn’t always work well.

5. Who does more of the housework?

It’s shared.  Ivy makes more mess though, she’s clean but untidy.  She seems accumulate way more stuff than Mac does, and boy does she spread it around the house.  She’s also very distractible, so he can get back and find a half-risen loaf in the kitchen, which she’ll have left, having had a thought about something she wanted to draw while it was still in her mind.  So, the sketchbooks are out in the living room, but then she’ll see a sketch of Mac and remember she was going to fix the arm on his duster again.  And so on and so forth.  Mac isn’t without guilt, there are always comics on various surfaces, left open (taking up maximum room) to show Ivy or the boys the best bits.  If Codsworth had lungs, he’d hyperventilate.  She will tidy up after herself though, when she realises she’s left everything all over.  I mean, nobody wants to hear a Mr Handy cry pre-recorded tears.

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

They don’t technically have an anniversary, actually getting together was a bit of a messy and protracted process.  The easiest date to remember is Halloween when they first met in Goodneighbour.  Maybe one day they’ll have an official anniversary for something else, but for now.

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Sometimes they can have a bit of blanket tug of war going on depending on who got into bed first.  Ivy was nesh even before the war, but two hundred years on ice has done her no favours.  She gets criminally cold hands and feet.  If they were just sharing a bed before they got together, Ivy would 100% steal that duvet, but these days she just wraps around her mercenary and they sleep like a little two person blanket burrito.  

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Neither keeps the other awake.  Mac is the one who snores, but they are little damn kitten snores, like his sneezes.  If anything is going to keep Ivy awake, it’s him falling asleep first and her just silently going “awwwwww” at her adorable boyfriend.  

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

This is totally Ivy and cats.  They have dogmeat of course, but he’s his own man and he’s always welcome with them, but he’s not really theirs.  Ivy love cats, she will sneak off to play with settlement cats when she should be doing far more minutemen type activities.  They are definitely slowly accumulating cats at their most regularly visited settlements.

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Ivy enjoys cooking most out of the two of them, and she’s rather good at it.  Getting better all the time as well since her and Codsworth are doing their best to remember and collect pre-war recipes, or at least work out how to make equivalents.  Mac is a reasonable cook, but over the years he’s generally been happy to exist on pre-war ‘just add water’ kind of food, rather than cooking from scratch, which is definitely Ivy’s jurisdiction.  But if she’s cooking, and if he can persuade Codsworth to leave them to it, he loves to cook with Ivy.  Even more so when the kids want to get involves too.  

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Oh god, they both do.  The pipboy radio is always going.  Turning it right up and singing along is almost mandatory. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you might catch Ivy playing the guitar or the piano and singing.  She’s usually shy about it, but she’s good.  She’s performed once at The Third Rail as a birthday present.

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

Given the opportunity of a hot shower in Vault 81, you will lose Ivy for so long you’d think she’d drowned.  Drenching herself in enough scolding hot water to supply a minor settlement, truly is the most self-indulgent of self-care.  Mac isn’t the biggest fan but he can be persuaded.  The only time he’ll hog the bathroom is when it’s time to keep that goatee in tiptop condition.  He’s very particular about it.  

13. Who gives the most compliments?

Like with saying ‘I love you’ most, Mac is definitely the one who lays on the compliments.  He learned early on that Ivy isn’t used to being complimented like that, or at least, it’s been a very long time since she was treated that way.  He’s almost made it a personal mission to set that right.  How easily she blushes at them is just an added bonus.  

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

They aren’t an argumentative couple, from past experience, Ivy does not cope well with that kind of confrontation within a relationship.  They are more likely to snark if something has annoyed them, but are actually really good at reading each other’s body language for when something they’ve done has upset the other.  But if it comes down to it, Mac is more likely to be the one to get into a more heated discussion about something that’s upset him.  Ivy is the one to calm a situation.  The only time they’ve had an actual stand up row was during Blind Betrayal.

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

They aren’t afraid of a bit of public bantering, and will definitely play up for an audience if they’re in the right mood.  Ivy is a little more inclined to publicly tease Mac in one way or another, but that might be more because Mac suspects she can deal it out better than she can take it, rather than her being the more equipped to do it.  Although when it comes to quietly flustering her in public, that is very much Mac’s jurisdiction.  

16. Who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

There’s a definite teasing edge to most of the nicknames they call each other, they’re both more comfortable with being called them when there isn’t too big of an audience around.  But I guess Mac would be more embarrassed by Ivy’s habit of calling him anything beginning with ‘sweet’ – it’s not good for his tough mercenary image, you know.  Mac doesn’t care who hears him call Ivy ‘angel’, he’s being calling her it for so long (way longer than they’ve been together) but he might draw the line at shouting ‘kitten’ across Diamond City marketplace.  Most other names they call each other are more along the lines of compliments or abbreviations of their names.  

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Ivy is definitely the more diligent medic, and a very well qualified worrier.  So when Mac is hurt, she’s all over that, and he regularly jokes that she carries enough gear to set up a small field hospital with her at all times.  Not that that habit hasn’t saved their asses on multiple occasions.  Mac is more likely to get genuinely scared if Ivy is badly hurt or sick because of past experience.  When it comes to just being a little bit poorly, Mac will milk it like an absolute drama queen.  Ivy is a soft touch and will let him.  But she’s also very good at telling when he’s better and is just looking for extra attention.  She’ll make up ‘treatments’ to see if he’ll keep up the charade and how committed he is to being waited on hand and foot.

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

For a guy who can mature a grudge like a fine wine, Mac has never ever been able to stay mad at Ivy.  Not even in those early days when she was ‘useless’ and they barely knew each other.  Mac melts at those big brown eyes, even if he tries to keep the frowns on the surface, all the anger goes in an instant.  It’s rare for her to get angry at him, but if the hurt is real then she can hang onto it until he’s shown that he’s earned back her trust.  It took him a while to win her back after coming back from the Capital Wasteland having not sent word at all since he left.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Ivy would be the first to cling to Mac when she’s scared, in fact she was, after very early close call.  That experience rather reinforced Mac as a safe place for her, bearing in mind she’s known him from just a week after escaping the vault, he’s definitely been a grounding presence for her.  When something is wrong, the first place she will seek comfort is in his arms, even from long before they were together.  Mac doesn’t break down until they’ve known each other for a lot longer, but he feels safe enough by then being that vulnerable with Ivy – it’s difficult because he has always had a habit of putting himself in a protector role in so many of his relationship with people that allowing himself to be seen as scared or even sad is difficult for him.  But once those floodgates are open, nothing would stop him from seeking comfort from her, even when things are awkward between them.

20. Who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

When it comes to big public displays, it would probably be Mac (not in the early days though, he was definitely more private then) but he likes it known that they’re together – especially to that one dude from diamond city security who keeps hitting on her.  Ivy is more for subtle displays in public; holding hands, cheek kisses etc.  Although there was one incident…anyway.  Privately they are equally likely to be all over each other.  

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Shadow And Pills - Part 1 Preview

Summary: Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all. Alexa comes away with a shadow.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Warnings: RAPE, Torture, Abuse, Self Harm, Negative Images of Psychological Services/Mental Health Professionals, Hallucinations, Stalking, Supernatural Horror, Prescription Drug Use and Eventual Abuse, Mental Illness, PTSD, Flashbacks of Violence, Flashbacks of Tragedy, Starving Oneself, Isolation, Physical and Mental Exhaustion, Denial, Self Neglect, Gaslighting, Mental Spiraling, Mental and Emotional Abuse

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This is not a happy story in any sense, at any point. I could only write this at my lowest places, emotionally and mentally speaking, and I had a hard time coming back from it. This is dark, and it does not at any point get lighter. I relied heavily on my own experiences with mental struggles and took a few pieces here and there from my own experiences with mental health professionals. MY EXPERIENCES ARE MY OWN AND ARE NOT TYPICAL, NOT EVEN FOR ME.

Extra thanks to @glassjacket and @thoughtslikeaminefield for not only helping me through this story but also through those dark moments. I wouldn’t be here without both of you. Period. And thank you, @glassjacket for your guidance and textwork on the image. 💙

If you need mental help of any kind, please DO NOT HESITATE TO REACH OUT TO GET IT. This story was an exercise in mental exorcism, in a sense.

For all the Loki lovers out there, I do not shine him anything like a good or redeeming light here. He is evil incarnate, more or less. I love Loki, I love good Loki and redeemed Loki and misunderstood Loki and just about every incarnation thereof. I needed a villain, and he fit the story.

Above all, please be kind. This was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever written, and it took me years to work up the courage to post it.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Word Count: 1 - 3785; 2 - 3513; 3 - 1068

In Case You Missed It: ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Shadows and Pills: Part 1 Preview

Some people come away from the Battle of New York with scars and broken bones. Some come away with nightmares and years of therapy ahead of them. Some don’t come away at all.

Alexa comes away with a shadow.

In the weeks following the disaster, the public equally lauds and decries the Avengers, but while their opinions are divided over the heroes, the villain is universally denounced as nothing short of Satan himself, and the city throws an actual celebration the day Thor takes Loki back to Asgard to face the justice of their people.

Alexa, having not turned on her television since the day she got home from the hospital, ignores the boisterous celebrants and goes about her shopping, earbuds firmly in place, frown lines now permanently etched between her eyes and around her pinched lips.

“Routine will help you through some of the worst days,” her therapist tells her during one session. “Something familiar and safe to retreat to when the flashbacks are the worst. Just give it a try,” he adds at her disbelieving grimace.

And so she sets a routine.

Morning Routine: wake up. Ignore alarm, lie in bed an extra thirty minutes or so. Shower. Pretend to eat breakfast. Take meds (this one she never skips or shirks). Find something to wear. Stare at it for another ten minutes. Eventually get dressed. Contemplate keys for another fifteen minutes. Leave the goddamned apartment already.

Her routine has varying results, although she does admit to her therapist that life is marginally more bearable with the routine than without.

“It’s nice to have something to look forward to for the next day.”

Her therapist can’t quite hide his grimace at her flat, deadened tone, but she’s not being sarcastic or rude. She finds that going to bed at night is a trifle easier when she knows what’s going to happen the next day.

“So, who are we up to today?” the doctor asks, switching the subject with awkward abruptness. It’s been six weeks since Hell came to New York, and during their twice-weekly meetings, her therapist suggests going through each of the people she saw die in front of her that day, to get closure...or say goodbye...or something.

Sometimes Alexa wonders whether he just wants to hear the details for his own perverse pleasure.

“Brenda.”

Alexa robotically begins to list the personal details she knows...knew...about her floor manager. Unlike the mail room intern she discussed at their last meeting, the list for Brenda goes on for a while. She’s worked with Brenda since she started at the company, learning most of what she knows about her current job from the woman.

Brenda was kind, sharply intelligent, and mothering to everyone under her supervision, and yet she did it in a way that didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. She balanced work and a family long and well enough to both receive regular promotions within the company and also, very recently, become a new grandmother.

The backs of Alexa’s eyes sting as she remembers the photo Brenda showed her not twenty minutes before part of the building collapsed on top of half the department. Her jaw locks as the scene plays before her eyes again, the explosions and shrieks of metal drowning out the shrieks of the people only five feet away.

She closes her eyes, but there’s no pause button to freeze the scene, no power button to shut the images off as she turns in her memory and runs, making it to the stairwell and slamming the door open, turning back and screaming for Brenda, straining her eyes through the smoke and dust and mountains of falling debris. Brenda is running, reaching for Alexa even though she seems miles away, and then one of the file cabinets is thrown over, propelled faster and harder than should be possible, and...and…

And then Brenda isn’t running anymore. Her outstretched hand, the only part of her that wasn't crushed by office furniture, spasms against the ruined carpet, as if it thinks it’s reached its destination and is grasping at its savior.

Alexa’s hand tingles, and her fingers lock into her palm, nails fitting easily into the little grooves she dug there weeks ago. No blood, she only dug that deep once, but the furrows remain as permanently etched there as the frown lines on her face.

Alexa struggles to take in a labored breath as her therapist watches her with the appropriate amount of professional, clinical sympathy and detachment.

“Do your counting,” he reminds her.

How could she forget? She counts to three once, letting a breath out at the end. She repeats the process twice more, ignoring her therapist’s brief flash of annoyance at her departure from his “system.” But, for once, he doesn’t ask her why she has to deviate from the standard one-to-ten method and just lets her do the goddamned counting in peace.

Small blessings.

“Have you had any flashbacks since our last session?”

She stares at him, letting her gaze rest heavy and disbelieving as she turns his question over. She’s been averaging about five flashbacks a day, triggered by everything from accidentally brushing a stranger on the sidewalk (Jim knocking past her to get down the stairs just as the door on the stairwell behind her explodes inward; more shrieking, then falling, then dark) to lifting a carton of cold milk from the shelf at the grocery (that impossibly cold hand grasping hers, pulling her up from the rubble, bringing her face to face with...something...something in the...shadows, it was so dark there, and…).

“Yeah. I’ve had some flashbacks since our last session.”

“What sort of coping strategies did you use?”

He’s not even meeting her eyes now, just getting notes down on that damned pad. The scratching of his pen grates into her bones, and Alexa grits her teeth as she glares.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

One, two, three.

Breathe.

She slowly recites the list of strategies he suggested during a previous session, none of which have proven particularly effective at lessening the frequency of the episodes, but most of which she grudgingly admits provide some slight relief afterwards and allow her to refocus her mind on the present rather than dwelling in the memory.

“And the shadows?”

How can he get this wrong every time when he’s taking all those fucking notes?

“Still just the one.”

“Has it manifested in any other way? Asked you to do anything? Do you feel different in any way when you notice it?”

There’s a distasteful eagerness to his words that always turns Alexa’s stomach, and she has to physically bite into her tongue to keep from asking what kind of bonus he gets for each symptom she shows of different mental illnesses.

“It’s just there sometimes. I..” She hesitates, feeling vaguely nauseated from his questions, but she has to be honest, right? Because, ultimately, it’s his job to help her, and she’s never going to get through this by hiding symptoms. He can’t help fix her if he doesn’t know what’s broken, and he did suggest the routine, so, okay, he gets a pass for this one.

“I still mostly only see it before I’m falling asleep. I’ve started seeing it in the late afternoon, as well, not often, but sometimes. Always in shadows that are already there. It doesn’t talk or anything, doesn’t really have any face or form except for vaguely person-shaped, but it...it watches me. And it’s...denser than it was last week. More...it’s thicker than it was, like when you see wispy clouds kind of...gather and turn into storm clouds?”

He nods, his pen whizzing over the legal pad he records their session notes on. “So, you feel threatened by the shadow? Like it’s storm clouds gathering to...what? It feels menacing?”

But, like most of the questions Alexa fences in this office, this one isn’t easily answered.

“It feels like it’s watching me, waiting for something. I don’t know what. I don’t...I don’t know if it’s menacing, exactly. Like, it feels potentially dangerous, but I can’t tell if it’s for me. I don’t know. It’s just...darker and more there this week, but it doesn’t do anything, and I don’t feel different, and it doesn’t speak to me. I. Don’t. Hear. Voices.”

She clips off each word at the end of her rant separately and precisely, repeating her counting in her head, and she forces her breathing to even out. The doctor is just doing his job, he’s just trying to help, he’s supposed to ask these questions, it’s how he helps-

“Hmm. I’ll have to consider that between now and our next meeting. In the meantime, go ahead and move up to the next dosage step with your meds, keep it on the escalating schedule we set.”

You set, she thinks mutinously for a moment before internally shaking her head. She nods, biting her tongue once more. She’s going to have a permanent indentation there as well, at this rate.

“Any side effects? Itching, swelling, difficulty breathing? Any unreasonable lethargy or detachment?”

“I mean...I don’t really have anything to attach to at this point, so…”

He frowns at her again, and she wonders if he’s going to crank up her dosage two notches instead of one.

“Are you having what you feel are typical emotional responses to everyday stimuli? Have you laughed or smiled at anything yet? How long has it been since you emotionally felt anything besides the frustration and panic?”

And, somehow, this question is difficult, too. She struggles through, trying to find a balance between honesty and not making herself look like a complete failure who can't function in life. She doesn’t help her case when she admits she hasn’t followed many of his suggestions beyond establishing a routine.

“Not even exercising?” he asks, his disappointment palpable.

When she silently shakes her head, her lips pinched tight against his disapproval, he shakes his head with a sigh that sings of ultimate betrayal. Instead of berating her as usual, the doctor frowns and looks down at his notes, considering them silently. He clicks his tongue against his teeth for a moment before switching over to end-session mode, robotically delivering his closing remarks, his typical reminders to keep her meds on a strict schedule at the exact time every day, to avoid all alcohol and unprescribed drugs, to keep her diet as clean and unprocessed as possible, and to get plenty of exercise. Even this last bit is delivered with a sharply clinical detachment, as if she has driven him to the brink of her own psychoses by stubbornly refusing to accept his help.

There is a short, silent moment between them where they refuse to look at each other, the doctor perusing his notes once more while Alexa examines the wrinkles creased into her jeans from lack of folding. The doctor flips pages over in his legal pad and slaps the cover shut sharply, breaking the standoff with one last, dismissive comment.

“Routine, Alexa. Stick to the routine. If it’s what brings you comfort, if that's the one thing you’re taking away from these sessions that actually helps, then stick with it. I’ll see you Thursday afternoon.”

….

Her afternoons vary, according to her therapy schedule. Her sessions take roughly an hour and a half, so that’s one block of time she doesn’t have to try and fill. On the days she isn’t having her skull cracked open, she can sometimes force herself to work on the files her company sends her way. Grunt work, brainless stuff that any first-year intern could do, but it keeps her on the payroll and covered by health insurance until the doctor clears her to return to the office.

Not that there’s an office to return to yet.

Grocery shopping for food she’ll pretend to eat later, making excuses to stay out of the apartment a little longer each day, watching the shadows of the buildings grow darker and longer until the sunlight disappears from the streets.

And the other shadow, the darkest of all, thick and solid against the brick and stone, pacing her, keeping track as she wanders through the broken city blocks. Sometimes she walks a little faster, pretends to not notice the black spot. Sometimes she pretends it’s keeping her company. With the most conversation she’s had in weeks taking place in her therapy sessions, she occasionally finds the imaginary company of her shadow stalker to be more pleasant than menacing.

Occasionally.

Eventually, though, she and her chimerical companion head back to the silent, encroaching walls of her apartment to begin the night routine.

........

The rest of Part 1 coming soon.

If you would like to be added to or removed from a tag list, please let me know.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Shadow and Bone

This will contain spoilers (duh) some names being forgotten and its going to get long and some context less chaos

I hope i got the image ids right

Episode one (23rd April)

- ahh so the Fold= Dark Island form VoDT but with less summoning of monsters?

ID: Ben Barnes holding onto the wheel of a boat

- Many smol beans

Brief interlude with Nausicaa Valley of the Wind

Episode 1 cont. up to midway episode 7 (24th)

- magical brown trouser time my good sir

- buddies!!

- they’re not going to leave Alina alone to her existential crisis are they?

That tent looks like a circus tent to me and I have no idea why

- hmm hello completely innocent fallen branch

me: turns to sis and asks if we can we take brief intermission for this headbanger (which we did)

Turns out our brief intermission for the song was useless because after pressing play again it started buffering

we were talking about it and Dad misheard it as shaggy bone

Imagine the darkling but in pastels and black lace

- how the flipping heck can you fake bleeding light

- do you want to get lost Alina?

On Ben Barnes beard: 50% hot damn and 50% fight me (the way he tilts his head in this makes us want to hit him in the jugular)

Episode 3

- ooh look at the stag

- i love the bathroom

- damn Nina

- I wish Alina had time to get some magic tips but oh well

- replays Ben Barnes saying Moya Tsarieta twice

- how?! (Look I told you there was going to be bits where the context is tricky to pin point)

- i love the goat

- oh Jesper

- blue and gold is a great colour combination

- about the dinner scene: if this were me it would be the very rare time I stand up for myself

+ I want to add a small thing about the food taster... one is dream job/ i like him/ and imagine a taster eating something and it goes down the wrong way

- yes Jesper hug the goat- and

ID: a man with his thumb up gif from The Hunger Games; with him saying “nice shooting sweetheart” but I couldn’t find a gif of him saying it

- true north? I am never going to be free of bellarke am I?

- oh that hurts

Episode 4

- “our saint has arrived to late” 🤧

- ohh the stag is so pretty

- horses!!!

- time for a heist- i love this goat

- aww wishing fountain bonding

- the darking is growing on me

- i love Mikhail and Dubrov

- I love what we get to see of Nadia and Marie and Kaz and Inej and Jesper and basically everyone

- i love a heist (this isnwhat the hobbit should of been but you know with more dragons

- Mal is baby

- poor Nina

- ah ha a vicious cycle against the Grisha and Fjerdan

- I thought Arkens reaction was a bit odd

- oh Alina sweet heart- flashback time

- the map room is a aesthetic- using Aleksanders own words against him

That shot of the two of them is great

- poor Alina

- yas queen

- oh the stag!

- oh the machine gun; Mal poor buddy and of course flashback time

- i knew she was going to get the scar removed

Episode 5

- poor Mal

- Nadia is me

- Genya is amazing

- hi David and great minds think alike Alina (i had the same expression on my face when they were flirting)

- oh the creepy masks had a purpose

- “you’re not Ivan” you don’t say

- aand height difference... this first kiss is kind of weird to me

- oh Jesper you flirt

- I’m sorry firey people you’re going to be outshined

- Inej is so beautiful

- Dima?!?!

ID: two people from a scene in the Anastasia Musical the song My Petersburg

- what is the librarians dudes problem?

- Genya you badass... poor Marie (does Alina learn about this?? It would probably be forgotten just like her causing the death of her fellow mapmakers)

- I love the costumes

- Tofin (Idk his name) we don’t know you sorry you’re dead

- oh the kissing

ID: a gif showing two people kissing

- and him giving her the flowers is kind of cute but where did they come from?

- *pinched nose* I hate cryptic messages Baghra... holy shit... i mean I kinda knew he was immortal but still holy shit

- oh Kaz... Inej! Collect your bloody knives

- *snorting* The crows being sent to kidnap Alina and Jesper just watching her climb into the getaway carriage will always be hysterical (i personally would be laughing and thats why anything involving stealth is off the cards for me)

Episode 6

- rest in pieces Arken

- Alina broke Inej

- I love Ivan (remember the thing i said about forgetting names/ getting them mixed up? This is it.. I love Feydor a lot more than Ivan but they are both so cute together)

- my heart will go on starts playing?

- i like that horse statue in the background

- i love the beach... look at those waves... the wet look is great

- you done mess up Alina but also cool

- Mal is burly squid

- “burly squid” wheezing nosies

- now hug

- Kaz I love the cane

- “I see you now” aww

- I knew they were going to snuggle... those cute laughs

- the alarm clock though... i knew Inej should have taken the knife... i love Jesper... poor Inej... clever boy Kaz

- does it hurt? Mal? Does it hurt?

I have a habit at picking at things that hurt and well fictional characters aren’t safe from me wanting to poke something painful

- ride OR die bitches

- aand more height differences... getting very close there guys... Matthias please don’t let her fall.... they are kind of cute

- David through a book... 😂 they carriage jacked the Darkling

- David raising his hand is me... but damn it

- Alina is amazing... please remember you’re wearing the ring... Mal is best boy

- “adorable” snorting noises

Episode 7

- horsey!!!

- ahh the return of the VoDT hair (see first gif)

- Luda is familiar...

- yikes

- poor Aleksander being turned into a pincushion is not a great time

- poor Luda

- holy shit

- rock and hard place

- fuck off Baghra

- he wanted to help 😔

- ah so its like the hollow from Charmed

Image ID: gif from the og Charmed with text saying “ohhh she’s a demon!”

- this shot is beautiful... ah so I guess this could have been what happened if Caspian resurrected the White Witch... i guess

- hi stag.... oh okay 😔 poor Stag poor Mal

Flashbacks to Cinderella and Snow White (the one with Krisien Sterwart) natually it follows along with Snow White

- *squishie noises* poor Jesper... we love you Jesper but please stop talking to Inej just in case she sews her finger to the wound

- i love the crows and i love the chat about the crows

Buffers

The next day (25th) episode continued

- David looks so sad

- personally I would downsize the fold just as reminder of it

- that looks like that hurt

- I love Milo and Jesper 💖

- don’t look at it Alina... Genya is right that colour is horrible... tell her off Alina... poor Genya

- I think Jesper had fun playing a guard

- I knew the Darkling read the letters

Sister: why does he look like Tom Ellis right now?

- oh Mal

- blow dart... lol Kaz

- Milo!?! Oh the bullet you clever boy Mal

- i like the tent... he’s not wrong... we want to play with that dangly bit... oh the angst

- I thought you looked older (idk context)

- I love the outfit but couldn’t the necklace be anywhere else?

- “no mourners no funerals”

- I love the music

Episode 8

- I don’t trust that opening

- me too Crows, me to... how could you not know who Milo is

- I love Nina and Matthias so much... they are so pretty... I am not a fan of taxidermy... oh his name is Feydor sorry we kept getting you mixed up

- God damnit Kirigan.. a not so sneaky Mal... the honorary Crow... pick a side already darkling... Sun Queen?... did anybody notice her being tied down?... Good Mal and good Inej

- Jesper is amazing... so much death... bad bitch Zoya... I love Inej kissing the knife and nailing the Darkling with it... head shot... hello buddy??... this music though... badass Alina... fucking Ivan... holy shit and of course music is amazing

+ brave Kaz

- Inej and Alina bonding time... hugs? No hugs ☹️

- he offered her his hand 😞... Inej wants to hug... finally some hugs... Zoya has grown on me... i love Kanej (is that the ship name)

- Matthias oh no buddy... hill house flashbacks

- i love Jesper so much... Nina going “someone say heartrender??”

Image ID: someone turning around and raising eyebrows at camera

- Kaz saying “she’s a saint” made my heart happy

- I doubt the Darkling is dead...... i was right

- well shit/ coolness of making shadow monsters follow you (please let there be a flashback for this)

Bonus

+ imagine of Matthias and Nina decide to sleep rather than get food and were caught cuddling by the Grisha... I thought of this as I was getting into bed that night and i got up ran to my sister told her my thought she found the idea funny then went back to bed

+ people who own trains are evil?? Looks at snowpiercer

Bonus: the soundtrack is on spotify and itunes

Image id: someone bobbing along with headphones on

[bigbrotherlouis]

for @1000-directions - winterhawk sickfic // bonus appearances of nat and sam // gratuitous projection of my slavic upbringing on characters (as usual) // ~2k

(forgive me if my characterizations are off, i don’t really go here. unbeta’d.)

it starts with a sniffle. clint sneezes once and then again, in quick succession. it’s loud and bucky looks at him with wide eyes. 

“allergies,” clint tells him, wiping his nose on his sleeve. he sneezes again. “they get bad this time of year.” 

“okay,” bucky says uncertainly. “do you need… something?” 

clint sniffs, a gross, wet sound and looks at bucky pleadingly, a miserable expression on his face. “nope. just a tissue.” 

“get your own damn tissue,” bucky mumbles but gets up anyway, dropping the whole box in clint’s lap. clint pats him on the thigh as thanks. 

except, the next morning, clint wakes up with even more of a sniffle and a voice like sandpaper. he winces the first couple times he talks and then shakes his head, patiently signing whatever he needs to say instead of saying it out loud. 

“feel gross,” he signs. bucky’s eyebrows furrow.

“still allergies?” he signs back, slowly, making sure every motion is crisp. 

“don’t know.” 

“can i get you anything?” 

clint shakes his head and then rolls over, shoves his head back into the pillow, groaning slightly. bucky’s hand, the human one, hovers over clint’s back where it’s pushed up over his spine and he spreads his fingers, an inch from his skin. people like physical touch when they’re not feeling well, right? it won’t hurt clint if bucky touches him when he’s sick? 

he can’t remember. he can’t remember and he can’t bear the thought of hurting clint, even accidentally so he pulls his hand away, tucking both his arms behind his back. it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

he startles when clint coughs, a sharp sound in the sun-warmed room, a deep thing that comes from his belly and wracks his shoulders. he groans when it’s done, sinking further into the pillows, and bucky flees into the common area before he does anything he can’t take back. 

“‘sup, bro,” natasha says from where she’s perched on the counter, cross-legged. she’s got a bowl balanced on her knee and a coffee cup in her hand. “you look like you’ve just seen baba yaga.” 

“clint is sick,” bucky tells her, still frowning, and goes to look through their fruit drawer. there’s a variety there, accommodating everyone’s needs.

“oh, that sucks.” she pauses. “well, i think it does. i don’t think i’ve been sick.” 

“me either,” he says, a smidge of relief seeping through him, as it always does when nat’s experienced something similar. “not with a cold.” 

nat laughs. “we weren’t allowed. neither assassins nor ballerinas get sick, dyevochka. ras, dva, tri, padyom.” she makes a face. “no sickness. what are you doing?” 

“looking for a lemon.” 

“a lemon?” 

“yeah,” he says as his fingers wrap around said fruit and he brings it out, carefully held. “do we have honey?” 

something sparks in her eyes. “ah, for the tea. yeah, i think there’s some above the stove.” 

he nods and rummages around in the cabinet, frowning when he pulls out the bear-shaped container. “this is not good honey.” 

“tell me about it,” nat says, snorting into her coffee. “you would think with the food budget we’re allotted tony would splurge on the good stuff, but nope. he keeps buying that.” 

“there’s none of the comb.” he touches his finger to the top and tastes a drop, his frown getting deeper. “it tastes like plastic.” 

“it sucks.” 

“it doesn’t do anything, for sickness or allergies. we should get some more.” 

“be my guest. i think the corner store carries some.” she swings her legs out and stretches them, pointing her toes as gracefully as a ballerina. “we used to buy great big jars of the good honey off the side of the road in bulgaria. cheap as dirt and it lasted forever. tasted real good, too.” 

bucky can imagine it, the way the gold spreads over your tongue as you eat it off a spoon, the pieces of beeswax squeaking against your teeth as you chew the honeycomb. it’s so vivid it feels like a memory. it might be a memory. he’s not good at figuring out what is real past when steve confronted him on that overpass. 

“does he have a fever?”

“hmm?” he says, pulling himself out of his puzzling. natasha tips her head to the side, like she’s thinking.

“clint. is he running a fever at all.” 

“oh. i, uh, don’t know. how do you know if someone has a fever?” 

“usually, you can feel it with your hands.” 

he flexes the joints on his metal hand, almost unconsciously. “i didn’t check. i didn’t-- can you touch someone when they’re sick?” 

“yeah, usually. same rules apply as when they’re healthy, though,” she says as she launches herself from the counter, landing quietly on the balls of her feet. bucky nods. he knows the touching rules: only with permission, and only carefully. steve had sat them all down when bucky had moved in and made sure everyone in the tower was aware that touching was okay (for bucky) but not if it was a surprise (for clint). 

“i think he might’ve fallen asleep.” 

“that’s good, sleeping is good when you don’t feel well.” 

“how do you know so much about this?” he asks uncertainly, following her back into clint’s bedroom. well, clint and bucky’s bedroom, now. “if you weren’t allowed to be sick?” 

“i’ve been out longer than you have, bucky. most people get sick. sam does, and tony and pepper, and i think i saw nick fury sneeze once.” bucky blinks, shaking his head. nat laughs. “point is, i’ve been around it a little. chut’-chut’. how did you know to make lemon tea with honey?” 

“just felt like it was the right thing.” 

“see,” she says. “you know what to do, at some level.”

she nudges open the door and creeps into the room, the blackout blinds still pulled half down. clint hasn’t moved except to be able to breathe, flat on his belly. he coughs as they get close, cracking an eye to look at them both. 

“what’re you doing?” he rumbles and bucky crouches down by the bed, pressing his finger to clint’s mouth so he’ll stop talking. 

“nat wants to know if you have a fever,” he signs. 

“maybe a little. achy.” 

“he’s achy,” bucky repeats for nat’s benefit as she puts her palm on clint’s forehead. he makes an appreciative noise at the touch, turning his chin up into the feeling. 

“figures, he’s hotter than normal. not enough to worry, but definitely hot.”

“nat says you’re hotter than normal,” bucky tells clint and smiles at the weak look in clint’s eyes. “didn’t mean it as a joke.” 

“i am always hot,” he replies before coughing again, twisting onto his side so he can breathe better. nat rolls her eyes, patting him carefully on the head. 

“sure, big guy. here, bucky and i will run you a bath, okay? it’ll make you feel better.” 

“okay,” clint croaks when bucky translates, pushing himself up so he’s sitting. it makes him cough yet again, and he buries his face in his elbow, hacking. it sounds a little like a chainsaw. 

“a hot bath,” says natasha, mostly to herself, and then makes for the bathroom. 

 sam walks in on them after his morning run (maybe his second morning run? bucky’s a little unclear on how many runs he goes on, exactly, in the morning but they’re either very long or he’s doing something else. bucky should look into that, once clint is feeling better.), his shirt damp with sweat and a question already on his lips. 

“what the hell is going on here?” 

“clint is sick,” bucky says, cutting onions into thin slices. clint groans from his seat at the table, wrapped in a comforter so only the top of his hair is visible. “we’re helping.” 

“by making a salad?” sam asks, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. bucky shakes his head. 

“it helps with a fever if you put these on his feet,” explains bucky and he thinks sam’s eyes might bug out of his head. 

“uh. what? how?” 

bucky shrugs. “don’t know. it’s just what they told us to do.” 

“they? who’s they?” 

“they,” bucky says, because he can’t actually remember. “they.” 

“oookay,” sam drawls out, his eyebrows still raised. clint sniffles pathetically. “you don't need to rub a red onion on clint's feet, bucky," he says. "we have fever reducers. you can buy them in tablets or syrup, even." 

"red onion is for the cough,” natasha says, poking her head out from where she’s looking through the tower’s extensive pantry. “we're making him a vinegar bath for the fever.”

“a vinegar… bath?” 

“it draws out the infection,” she says. sam pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

“i don’t-- are we living in the fifties, perhaps? why the hell are we turning clint into a salad, just because he’s sick?” 

“you already used salad,” bucky points out and sam glares. 

“fine. why are we trying to make a hawkeye pickle in the bathtub?” 

“because he’s sick,” natasha replies crossly, emerging with a bottle of apple cider vinegar in her hands. “keep up, wilson.”

“is this some kind of soviet thing?” sam asks after a minute. “like, are you against medication? or do you genuinely just forget it exists?” 

“why would we buy medicine when we have vinegar and onions?” natasha says. bucky’s not certain if she’s joking or not, if he’s being honest. 

“and whiskey and lemon and honey,” he adds. “also for the cough.” 

“i-- you know what? i’m not going to argue any more about this. i’m just going to go down to the walgreens; text me if you need anything.” 

“dosvidanya, samuel,” nat sings and he halfheartedly waves over his shoulder. “now. i think we’re ready.” 

they haul clint back into the bathroom and run the water hot, hot enough that clint hisses when he touches the water. nat’s dumped her vinegar in the tub as bucky quickly strips him down to his boxers. his skin is flushed, pink and warm, and bucky worries to himself as clint sinks into the water. 

“feels good,” he says. he really must be stuffed up because he doesn’t even complain about the vinegar smell, just sighs deeply. 

“i’m going to go text sam to bring back real honey,” says nat, pushing up from the floor. “you stay with him and make sure he doesn’t drown. that was a joke.” 

“i know it was,” bucky grumbles, a moment too late, and nat’s chuckles bounce off the tile as she leaves. clint sighs again, his breath rasping a little, and stick his toes out of the bath to nudge bucky in the side. 

“thank you,” he signs, the movements sloppy with exhaustion. “for taking care of me.” 

“i don’t think i’m doing a good job.” 

“i feel better, so you’re doing okay,” clint says and pokes where bucky’s eyebrows are furrowed. bucky’s fingers, the real ones, sneak into the water to check the temperature and then clint’s pulse when he breathes too fast. 

“babe,” clint says aloud, a smile turning up his mouth. “it’s just a cold. i’m not dying.” 

“colds kill people.”

“relax,” he insists and then pauses, licking a drop of water off his thumb. “is there… vinegar in this?” 

“yes.” 

“huh. that’s new. never had a vinegar bath before.” 

“me and nat agreed it was good for you.” 

clint laughs lowly, the sound rebounding around the room, and reaches out to comb his fingers through bucky’s hair, going frizzy from the humidity. “i think maybe living in eastern europe had a bigger effect on you both than you think.”

“sam’s getting you medicine, i think. the real kind.” 

“nice of him. this bath isn’t bad, though. might even be helping.” 

“you’ll drink tea after this,” bucky tells him. “and sleep some more.” 

“okay,” clint says around a yawn. “i can do that.” 

on an impulse, bucky leans forward to press his lips to clint’s forehead, smelling vinegar and feeling the fever under his mouth as clint hums. 

“feels nice,” he says when bucky’s leaned back, tipping his chin up. “i think i heard somewhere that kissing has antibacterial properties.”

“you’re going to get me sick.” 

“you’re a ninety year old assassin. i think you can handle a cold, if you can even get sick.” 

it’s a fair point so bucky obliged, even though he was always going to oblige, slotting his mouth against clint’s and letting clint control the kiss. it doesn’t last long, barely a few seconds, as clint pulls away to cough, bending forward over his knees. bucky smooths a hand down his back and taps lightly, feeling the way his lungs expand as he breathes. 

“ugh,” clint mumbles when he can form words. “ugh, i’m done in here, i think.” 

“okay.” 

bucky helps him up, carefully rinses the vinegar away, and towels him dry. ever so gently, he gets clint into clean clothes and then back into bed. the sheets are clean; sam or nat must’ve stripped the linens while they were busy. 

clint sighs when he settles, catching hold of bucky’s metal arm before bucky can pull away. 

“stay with me?” he asks quietly with his eyes half-lidded, tiredness pulling at every inch of his body. “please?” 

“yeah,” bucky says without hesitating, climbing over him and onto the big bed. clint scoots closer before he’s even settled and sticks his cold feet on bucky’s legs, making him jerk and swear. 

“you’re warm.” 

“i know. “

“feels nice,” he mumbles, blinking heavily. he’s already halfway to sleep so bucky curls an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. he resumes his stroking as clint snores, fingers tangled in the hem of bucky’s shirt. bucky couldn’t leave if he tried, not that he would try. 

clint sleeps through the afternoon, through the light changing in the bedroom and nat bringing in a cup of chicken soup and sam throwing a pack of nyquil at them both. bucky sits there, moving as little as he can, and smiles when clint tucks his face into his chest.