#and praying it works cause if not any other option is probably gonna involve me making things from scratch

[bf-rally]

Progress on the interaction page!

[medicinemane]

I don't know what you are going through, or how hard you are fighting mentally, but maybe you should seek help rather than posting your impending suicide. Maybe, get off this website, or rather off the Internet in general. You are only making things worse for yourself, by continuing to be here. Seek help. You're saying it might not be a loss, but has anyone actually reached out to you before me? Get help. I'll be praying for you.

Man, I know you're trying to help, but I gotta say this is like the least helpful thing you can say

You know, I'm a big believer in therapy. You know why I'm not in it currently? Cause it's 50 miles to the nearest therapist. Finding someone that does remote appointments that medicaid covers is on my list of things to do, but it's not done yet

You know what I've been doing lately? Trying to get stuff fixed up around my house, improve my situation... much as I may feel awful I try not to stand still cause that's the only way I can change stuff

I'm not meaning to lay into you, but you have no idea how often I hear stuff like this and how much it doesn't help

Like just step back and look at with with me please. I am so isolated that I didn't even feel lockdowns at all, that was just another day for me. You're suggesting that I cut back on tumblr, which is 100% of where I get any socialization at all, when it's not like tumblr's making me miserable, things like isolation and money and the state of things that I'm trying to work on are what's making me miserable

You mean well, but you're making things worse

You know nothing about my situation, you know nothing about why I'm doing how I'm doing or what I'm trying to do about it, and you're trying to tell me to get help... you gonna help me get it? I'd love some, you got an option that doesn't involve 2 hours of travel time plus a tank of gas?

I'm telling you this cause you care, and I'm telling you that you're gonna go to help someone you really care about some day, and if this is the approach you take you're just gonna make things worse

I'm an open book, you can honestly get anything you want out of me. I can tell you most of why I feel like I feel... and listen, that's not your job, I know you've probably got a whole lot on your own plate and you're just trying to help someone you're seeing in passing... but that's not what you're doing

So I really don't mean to sound mean, but you just have no idea how many times I've gotten more or less this exact ask

Feel free to stop by and talk more, hell, if you want to talk about things going on in your life I'd be happy to listen... but this right here is exactly why I have a personal policy of never offering advice unless I'm willing to step in and help see it executed... exactly cause of stuff like this

Also bonus question, what impending suicide?

I've had my belt sitting next to my door and tested it multiple times over the past few months, and like... that's not a good sign, but the fact I've never made any kind of attempt says I'm unlikely to in the near future. Start worrying when I get my hands on a gun, but till then you let me worry about this and if it bothers check in with why I want to blow my brains out

The irony is that being here is one of the few things that's actually making me better. Other than having to see the occasional dumb take from a mutual (and god, news alone'll do way worse), people here are the closet I have to any kind of support system

So I invite you to talk with me more, I invite you to ask any question you want, I'm not mad, just so damn tired of getting stuff like this when... at what point will I be able to just exist in a space while being honest about how I'm feeling? Do I have to totally fix all my mental health solo before I'm worthy of getting any help, or at least some space to be left alone

Sorry for the long reply, but there's just a lot I have to say on this

Hope you have a nice day, stop by if you ever need anything

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse. 

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that,  maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you. 

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you. 

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now. 

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag  Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode. 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior. 

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing. 

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving. 

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed. 

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well. 

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

[lovelyirony]

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time. 

But people had been to see him. 

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.” 

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up. 

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that. 

“He’s...knocked out, still.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. 

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.” 

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.” 

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.” 

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.” 

Tony freezes. 

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant... 

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things: 

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married. 

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session. 

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation. 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him. 

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation. 

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...” 

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.” 

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows. 

-

So he doesn’t. 

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it. 

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.” 

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.” 

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.” 

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.” 

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.” 

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?” 

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling. 

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour. 

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.” 

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.) 

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin. 

- 

Jim doesn’t come down. 

Or he did, but he came down early. 

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony. 

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.” 

So Tony does. 

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really. 

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold. 

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life. 

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history. 

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?” 

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.” 

“Oh. So we just...I  fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence. 

“...weird.” 

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.” 

Jim looks up. 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.” 

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.” 

“Oh. Gross.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.” 

Jim laughs at that one. 

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?” 

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling. 

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.” 

Jim throws back his head and laughs. 

“How did we...how did we become friends?” 

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...” 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?” 

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together. 

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.” 

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says. 

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.” 

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?” 

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?” 

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that). 

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.” 

And Tony can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything. 

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

- 

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically. 

“You...what?” 

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.” 

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.” 

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.” 

“I’m in the army, right?” 

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.” 

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?” 

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.” 

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private. 

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing. 

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine. 

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. 

But that doesn’t mean...? 

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings. 

...would there be? 

“Hey Friday?” he asks. 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?” 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?” 

“Uh...sure. I guess.” 

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on. 

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events. 

- 

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it. 

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-” 

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.” 

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him. 

“What did you do to celebrate?” 

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.” 

“Someone was with me?” 

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.” 

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown. 

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.” 

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.” 

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?” 

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...” 

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.” 

“Who is he?” 

Tony grins. 

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.” 

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?” 

-

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet. 

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.” 

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks. 

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.” 

“He can think?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.” 

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.” 

Tony stills. 

“You...remember that?” 

Jim pauses for a moment. 

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.” 

Tony throws back his head and laughs. 

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?” 

“Water sounds fine.” 

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat. 

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over. 

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile. 

“Thanks Jim.” 

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.” 

Tony looks at him for a moment. 

“But is that what you want?” 

Jim pauses. 

“Yes. For now.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.” 

Jim nods. 

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.” 

-

He lies awake in bed that night. 

“Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?” 

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Are you being paid to say that?” 

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.” 

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.” 

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.” 

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.” 

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?” 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

- 

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath. 

Right there. 

Right on his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring. 

On the left hand. 

That wasn’t there before. 

Shit. 

[womenstan]

One More Night - P.4

Let Me Forget You

Summary "Now, Sander held the power of breaking this thing off whenever and leaving Robbe a mess again. But, Robbe had decided he wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t just going to sit still and look pretty until Sander decided he’d had enough of him. Besides, it was nothing more than sex between them. He could live without it, or find it elsewhere.

He was going to stop this thing and he was going to move on.

How difficult could it be, right?"

Part four of one more night

Robbe had always been one to overthink things, to let them stew and simmer in his mind for hours on end, until they either stopped making sense or managed to completely freak him out.

This time, it was the latter. He hadn’t meant to keep thinking about Sander, or, rather, the feelings the simple mention of that name evoked in him. Yet, here he was, two days later, unable to focus on anything else.

He’d known since the beginning that they were walking a very thin and dangerous line and that this was never going to end well, but now he was starting to realize he might have a lot more to lose here than Sander did.

He’d tried to ignore it, push it to the farthest corners of his mind, but to no avail. He knew that once he would enter Sander’s vicinity, his brain would lose all sense of logic and he’d just end up repeating the same mistake again and again and again… until Sander got bored and ditched him again, probably.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to resist, but simply ignoring Sander didn’t seem to be an option, as they constantly ended up in each other’s way. So, he couldn’t ignore him, but there was no way he was going to let Sander win this either.

The angry, fiery sex was great. No, it was beyond amazing and by far the best Robbe had ever had. He was like an addict who needed his fix and that gave Sander the upper hand over him, which Robbe really, really hated. He’d walked right into it too, promising himself he’d never have anything to do with that guy again, before jumping into his bed, both figuratively and literally.

Now, Sander held the power of breaking this thing off whenever and leaving Robbe a mess again. But, Robbe had decided he wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t just going to sit still and look pretty until Sander decided he’d had enough of him. Besides, it was nothing more than sex between them. He could live without it, or find it elsewhere.

He was going to stop this thing and he was going to move on.

How difficult could it be, right?

----

Turns out the answer was: very fucking difficult.

Not only did they attend the same university, but they also both followed classes in the same wing and hung out at the same parties.

Robbe managed to avoid Sander at school by only showing up to his classes and never hanging out at the library afterwards, but this solution could only last so long. So, he needed a plan.

“Milan, what? I’m not going to fuck some guy just to get over this thing with Sander!” Robbe exclaimed, incredulous.

Milan sighed, sitting down next to him on the bed while throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “Fine, Robbe, be boring, then!”

Robbe huffed at that, already regretting coming to Milan for advice. Milan crossed his arms, pouting, before turning his back to Robbe. They stayed in silence for a bit, as Robbe was starting to consider having to switch universities to get out of this.

Suddenly, Milan spun back towards Robbe, grabbing him by the arms in excitement. Robbe arched one his eyebrows in question, prompting Milan to inhale dramatically.

“Ok, I have a solution,” Milan said, which only made Robbe scrunch his face in doubt. “And before you ask, no , it doesn’t involve sex or illegal activities.”

Now, Robbe’s curiosity was piqued. “Go ahead, but I swear if you suggest your cousin aga-“

“No, no, I swear! How was I supposed to know he was married, Robbe, seriously!” Milan interrupted, waving Robbe off. “ Anyways , no, I’m talking about Theo .”

Robbe felt his hopes get crushed all at once. “Milan, no. I can’t.”

Milan tutted him, but Robbe just kept shaking his head in disbelief. “No, Milan, that guy has, like, genuine feelings. I can’t just use him for this!”

Theo was a barista at the university’s small student café. At first, Robbe had thought he was simply extremely nice, but his kindness had escalated into flirting quickly enough. He was very obviously interested in Robbe and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. And the thing was that he was far from ugly. Theo was a little taller than Robbe and objectively handsome with his side-swept brown hair and his deep blue eyes that seemed to read into your soul when he looked at you. He was also really nice, which might actually be part of the problem. He was so, so, nice that he ended up being quite… boring. Every time Robbe stopped to grab a coffee, he prayed to every single God he could remember that Theo wouldn’t get the guts to ask him out. So far, he’d been safe.

See, Robbe wasn’t good at saying no to people. He hated seeing the hurt on their faces and he felt guilty every time he’d see them again. So, he was pretty sure he’d end up saying yes if Theo proposed a date and he really didn’t think he could survive going out with Theo without falling asleep on him.

So, he couldn’t just use him to get over Sander. He wasn’t that kind of person.

Milan got up and walked towards the door without saying a word, which only aggravated Robbe even more.

“I won’t do this to him, Milan!”

-----

And he really, really wasn’t going to. But then, as he was walking to his last class the next day, he caught sight of a sliver of white hair out of the corner of his eyes and his brain kind of just stopped working.

He couldn’t even think about escaping before Sander’s gaze had met his.

“Robin. Long time no see.” Sander said. He didn’t even bother smirking to smooth his tone over, all coldness and anger that sent chills up Robbe’s spine.

Robbe laughed dryly, his otherwise good mood crushed in an instant. “Yeah, too bad you decided to ruin it, hm?”

Sander stepped closer to Robbe, making him take some tentative steps back towards the wall. The corridors were mostly empty now, most students having already reached their classes. Robbe should definitely follow suit if he doesn’t want to be late, which he definitely doesn’t, considering how strict this teacher is and how behind he is in the course. But it’s as if his body stopped obeying his mind, his feet rooted in place as if cemented into the floor.

“How long are we gonna keep playing cat and mouse for?” Sander said, voice low and hoarse, letting Robbe know he was actually pissed off by Robbe’s avoidance.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

If Robbe had thought Sander was mad before, it was nothing compared to now. His eyes had gone dim and narrow and if the way his breathing became more labored was any indication, Robbe was in trouble.

He looked to his left, then to his right, but Sander’s body was pretty much crowding him, making it impossible for Robbe to simply walk away without a confrontation.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause that’s not what you were saying last week when you couldn’t get your hands off me at that party and I had to drag your drunk ass home.”

Robbe’s head snapped back to Sander’s, now angry as well. “Fuck off, I was drunk. Of course I’d try to go for someone like you.”

Sander’s hands slammed the wall on each side of Robbe’s head, making him flinch slightly. They were so close by now that Robbe could feel Sander’s hot breath on his face, which was only slightly distracting him from the hurt that flared in Sander’s gaze.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Sander asked, practically growling with anger.

If it was anyone else, Robbe might have felt bad about what he’d insinuated. But this was Sander and making Sander angry only resulted in making Robbe even angrier.

Raising his chin to match Sander’s height, Robbe locked his eyes with his, trying to appear as unbothered as he could. “Someone who’d fuck anything with a heartbeat,” he spat out, smirking at the way Sander’s face fell.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sander said, eyes closed and sounding out of breath.

Robbe’s brain was no longer thinking logically, completely wrapped up in the tension electrifying the air between them.

“Make me then.”

And for once, Sander didn’t respond with some snarky remark to one-up Robbe. He just dived right in.

Fumbling behind Robbe, Sander pushed open a nearby door, gripping Robbe’s shirt and pulling them in. He shut the door close with his right foot, shoving Robbe against a shelf roughly.

Robbe winced a little as he was sent backwards, preparing himself for the landing, but Sander managed to slip his hand behind his head just in time to avoid a collision. Robbe sighed in relief, but the end of his sigh was caught by Sander’s mouth on his, harsh and demanding.

Instinctively, Robbe’s hands went up to Sander’s hair, twisting his fingers in the strands and pulling in desire. Sander’s moan was barely audible, swallowed somewhere in their kiss. As Sander’s tongue found its way to Robbe’s mouth, his fingers slipped to Robbe’s waist, holding him tightly against the shelf.

The room was entirely silent, apart from the wet sound of their mouths gliding together and the occasional whimper from either of them. Robbe had closed his eyes as soon as he’d felt Sander push him back into the room, but as Sander’s mouth navigated to his neck, he took the time to look at their surroundings.

Sander had ushered them into a closet, buckets and mops laying all around as the air smelled distinctly of cleaning products. It was dark, the only light coming from the small crack under the closed door and Robbe could barely make out where he ended and where Sander started.

His train of thoughts was quickly interrupted by Sander’s teeth sinking into the delicate skin of his neck, pulling and sucking. His head fell back against the self as his eyes rolled back a little, overwhelmed with the sensations. He was really glad for Sander’s hands on his waist keeping him upright, because he was pretty sure they were about to give out.

As Sander kept sucking his way along Robbe’s neck, Robbe brought his hands down to the hem of Sander’s shirt, pulling a little. Sander seemed so absorbed in his task that he didn’t react to Robbe’s touch, forcing him to physically get Sander’s head away from his neck.

“Sander,” Robbe said, as Sander just grunted, clearly annoyed he’d been interrupted. “Sander. Shirt off.”

That seemed to wake Sander up from his daze, as he quickly got rid of his shirt, before removing Robbe’s in one swift move. The second Robbe’s shirt hit the floor, Sander’s mouth was already back on him, making its way down his chest.

Robbe had to stifle a moan with his hand when Sander got to the edge of his pants, sucking yet another bruise there. Sander was taking his time, clearly enjoying the way he could make Robbe squirm with his mouth.

Robbe’s hands had found a home in Sander’s hair, pulling especially hard to make Sander go faster. It had the reverse effect, as Sander slowed his sucking down to come soothe the mark with his tongue, licking slowly over Robbe’s skin.

Robbe whined a little, annoyed at how slow this was going. Sander chuckled, clearly amused at how eager Robbe was to move this along and decided he’d made Robbe suffer enough.

In an instant, his hands were on Robbe’s belt, struggling with the buckle for a few seconds before harshly pulling it out of its hoops and throwing it behind him carelessly. Sander hooked his fingers in both Robbe’s jeans and underwear, tugging them down in one swift move as he dropped to his knees.

Sander’s hands gripped Robbe’s waist hard, making sure he wasn’t going to move. As Robbe brought one of his hands to Sander’s neck, the other still twisted in his hair, he felt Sander breath heavy on his skin. He barely had a moment to register the heat before Sander’s mouth wrapped around him, all warm and wet. All Robbe could feel was pure bliss, closing his eyes shut as Sander moved his head back and forth.

He’d had sex with other guys before Sander, but right now, he couldn’t remember a single one of them. It was like Sander’s mouth had wiped his slate clean at the first flick of his tongue.

Robbe’s muscles ached from how hard he was clenching them, and he could feel his toe curling in his shoes. It was so unbelievably good that it had made Robbe forget all about the promise he’d made to himself.

That’s what Sander did to him, he made him throw all caution out the window and indulge himself in this bad, bad, mistake.

Because that’s what this was: a mistake.

As Sander moved his head a little faster, Robbe’s brain started screaming danger at him, making panic rise up in his chest.

“Sander. Sander! Wait, wait, wait, stop,” Robbe stuttered out, pushing at Sander’s shoulders.

Sander immediately pulled back, his eyes wide and worried. Robbe hurried to pull his pants back up, refusing to even look Sander’s way.

“Robbe?” Sander asked, voice low and careful.

He took a tentative step towards Robbe who immediately threw his hands up to stop him. “Don’t.” Robbe bent down to pick his shirt up, throwing it on carelessly. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just have to… go.”

With that, he practically ran for the door, knocking over one of the mops on the way. Sander just stared at him, confusion, but mostly concern, written all over his face.

As he opened the door and stepped out, Robbe had to fight the urge to look back at Sander, instead choosing to swallow his shame and hurry out of the room, out of the corridor and out of the school.

----

After the complete humiliation that had been, Robbe swore to Milan he was never going to show his face again to uni. He was just going to have to change university, or even country, to make sure he’d never have to cross paths with Sander again. There was no other choice.

But there actually was another choice, which Milan kindly reminded him of.

Theo.

So, here Robbe was, nervously fiddling with his headphones as he queued at the small café where he knew Theo was working today. He knew that because he’d usually try to avoid coming in at this time, just so he’d be sure he wouldn’t be subjected to Theo’s flirting. Today, though, he was hoping for the exact opposite.

“Welcome to Café Het Hoekje, how may I—” Theo began, raising his head at the same time and coming to an abrupt stop as his gaze fell upon Robbe. “Oh! Robbe!”

He straightened up a bit, his bored expression transforming into a radiant smile. “Hey, how are you?”

Robbe ran a hand through his hair, a habit he couldn’t seem to shake, and smiled back at Theo. “Hey! Yeah, I’m good, you?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, seeming overjoyed that Robbe cared enough to ask him how he’d been. That made Robbe’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I mean, it was fine. I’m better now that you’re here.” Theo added, punctuating his sentence with a wink.

Robbe chuckled slightly, already wondering if he should just order coffee as usual, leave and forget all about his plan.

Theo leaned slightly on his forearms, shortening the safe distance the counter between the two of them provided.

“I missed you,” He said, whispering so only Robbe would hear.

Theo had always been very forward in his flirting and Robbe was more than expecting it, but he still blushed a little. It was now or never, so Robbe inhaled deeply, before putting on his most charming smile.

“Me too. Say, how about we grab some coffee after your shift?” Robbe asked, trying his hardest to stop his voice from shaking as he spoke. His mind was begging for him to stop, but Robbe simply ignored it, smiling a little more and shoving his hands inside his pockets so he’d stop playing with the hem of his jacket.

Theo’s face was almost comical, as his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped open. He stayed frozen in place for a few seconds, as if he was expecting Robbe to laugh and say it was just a joke. Theo shook himself out of it, coughing awkwardly before immediately letting out a quick series of ‘yes.’

Robbe took pity on him, asking him when he was off and promising he’d be back for him then. Theo answered each question a beat too late, as if in a daze.

When Robbe made to leave the café, he heard Theo shout after him, half-walking, half-jogging up to him, a piece of paper in his hand.

“Robbe! Here, my number. Just in case,” he said, his tone assured, having clearly regained his confidence on his way over.

Robbe smiled, grabbing the paper and sliding it inside his pocket. He thanked Theo, who just winked at him again, before walking back towards the counter. Robbe watched him go, smiling a little to himself, proud that his plan had so easily worked. As he pushed through the door and breathed the soft outside air, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to regret this.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last long. As soon as he sat down facing Theo, a steaming cup of cappuccino in his hands, the worries came back to him like a slap in the face. He was worried about hurting Theo, about getting over Sander, about not getting over Sander. The more he tried to forget about it, the more he ended up relating everything to him. It was like Sander had lodged itself in a corner of his mind and now refused to leave. He had a Sander shaped squatter in his brain and he was really getting fed up with it.

“Robbe?” Theo said, slowly, bringing Robbe out of his thoughts so abruptly he almost felt whiplash.

Robbe sent him a sorry smile, before asking him to, please , repeat what he’d said. Theo shook his head while laughing, as if Robbe had just told him something unbelievably funny. From the look in Theo’s eyes, Robbe wouldn’t doubt he thought Robbe was too absorbed by him and stopped listening to look. God, he felt like such a fucking asshole.

“I just asked how your classes were going,” Theo finally said, still wearing a proud smirk, not unlike the ones Sander sent him time after time. On Theo, however, it simply looked wrong. While it suited Sander, as if his face was molded to accomodate a smirk, Theo’s looked uncomfortably twisted.

“Yeah, I’m really busy, but other than that, it’s going fine,” Robbe answered, barely managing to lift the corner of his lips high enough to qualify for a smile. “I mean I have this really stressful exam thursday in the hall…”

Theo nodded solemnly at that. “Ah, semi-finals, right?” Robbe nodded, sighing a small ‘yeah.’ “When’s yours, in the morning?”

“Nah, thank God. I’m from one to four pm,” Robbe said, feeling his eyes drift to the side despite himself. They weren’t alone, but the café was empty enough that he probably wouldn’t be meeting anyone he knew. He was glad for that sense of intimacy, because he wasn’t sure he’d know how to explain what he was doing with ‘won’t-stop-flirting-with-me-please-help-jens-I’ll-literally-pay-you’ Theo to one of his friends.

Theo nodded again, sipping his own drink carefully. He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to hesitate before any word could leave his mouth. He breathed deeply, as if to steel himself, and now Robbe was starting to get properly nervous.

“Look, Robbe, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be one hundred percent honest, alright?” Robbe gulped hard, nodding his head nonchalantly, despite his heart rising up to his throat. Theo knew. Somehow, he knew that Robbe was using him and this whole thing would fail.

“So… Do you, like, have a boyfriend?” Theo asked finally, refusing to meet Robbe’s eyes.

Robbe frowned, taking a few seconds to process what Theo had just asked him, before starting to laugh.

“A boyfriend? What? No way!” Robbe answered, stifling his laugh awkwardly with a slight cough.

Theo’s face lit up instantly, as he straightened his back and brought his eyes back to Robbe. Green eyes, just like Sander. Well, not nearly as beautiful.

“Oh? Great, that’s great! I just saw you with this guy at a few parties, so I thought…” Theo trailed off, scratching his neck.

Robbe furrowed his eyebrows, unsure he understood what Theo was talking about.

“Guy? What guy?”

Theo half-shrugged, giving Robbe a lopsided smile. “The blonde guy? From Arts?” Sander.

“Sander?” Robbe asked, prompting Theo to nod hesitantly. “God, no, Sander isn’t my boyfriend. I mean, we… you know, a couple of times, but there were zero feelings there.”

Theo laid his right hand over his heart, dramatically exhaling. “Good. That’d be too bad.”

Robbe smiled, giving him a small nod. Yeah… too bad .

----------

“No, Jens, you don’t understand. I had to order three cups just to make sure I wouldn’t fall asleep on him!” Robbe said, laughing along with the other boys.

Jens laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, giving him a serious look. “What about the plan then?”

Robbe sighed, shaking himself out of Jens’s grip. “Man, fuck the plan.”

That got him another round of laughs and a clap on the back from Moyo, whose approval didn’t actually feel good at all.

“It was a shit plan from the start, anyway,” Jens added. Robbe nodded vehemently, before plopping himself down next to him at the table.

Moyo clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “So, guys, time for serious matters now,” he paused, turning to look at each of their clueless faces, before he sighed and continued, “Tomorrow’s party, jongens!”

The three other boys cheered him on, Robbe included. A party was exactly what he needed to forget the Theo Fiasco. He’d get really, really drunk, so he could, one, not think about Theo and, two, not sleep with Sander in inadvertance. It was essentially a fool-proof plan.

“God I can’t wait to get laid!” Aaron said in a whiny voice, which only made everyone erupt in laughter again.

“Aaron, you’re as likely to get laid as Jens is to graduate in time,” Moyo said, laughing at his own joke as Aaron just looked away, defeated. Jens mocked him, saying Moyo wasn’t anywhere near any of those two things, which only resulted in Moyo’s protesting.

“Man, for someone who loves teasing so much, you really can’t take a joke,” Jens said, shaking his head with a smile.

Moyo smiled as well, shrugging. “A man’s gotta defend his honour, Jens.”

They all went back to their phone, scrolling aimlessly. Robbe was jumping from profile to profile on Instagram, trying to find anything that would capture his attention. When he fell upon a picture of Theo smiling with the caption ‘To new beginnings!’, he closed the app, shut his phone off and slid it in his pocket, sighing.

“Guys, who’s keeping the stash this time? I don’t want to have to run from the police again like last time because you’re a bunch of cowards,” Robbe said. At their last party, Moyo had gotten too scared and chucked the weed at him. A cop had seen the interaction and started approaching Robbe who, naturally, ran out of the back of the house. He heard shouts following him, but he just ran until he couldn’t feel his lungs, satisfied when he realized he’d lost the cop somewhere along the way.

Moyo groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Can’t we just decide that at the party?” Robbe opened his mouth to retort, but he was immediately interrupted.

“Party? What party?”

Robbe’s head whipped to the side, only to find Theo, fucking Theo , standing right next to their table, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was clearly interrupting something.

Robbe turned towards Jens, sending him a panicked look, silently trying to convey that he shouldn’t mention the party. To his demise, Jens just smiled back at him, clearly intending to have some fun at Robbe’s expense.

“Hey Theo! Good to see you, man!” Jens said, exchanging a handshake with him. “We’re going to a party friday night, I’m sure Robbe told you all about it, right?”

If looks could kill, then Jens would be dead and buried, from the way Robbe was trying to drill holes into his skull with his stare.

Theo shifted uncomfortably on his feet, turning to Robbe in question. “Uh, no, he hadn’t?”

Fucking Jens. He was so going to pay for this.

Robbe tried to swallow back his anger as best as he could, before turning towards Theo and offering him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I was just about to text you, actually. D’you wanna come with?” Robbe asked, silently praying Theo would be otherwise occupied.

However, he could feel his hope shrivel up and die inside of him as Theo smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah! Of course. I’ll pick you up around seven and we can pregame together?”

Robbe coughed, trying to hide his eagerness to end this conversation as he racked his brain for an excuse.

“Eh, I’m actually already pregaming with my friends, but I’ll meet you there?” Robbe said, hoping Theo wouldn’t try to get himself invited to the pre-party too.

Thankfully, he didn’t, smiling again, always , before agreeing to meet him there around nine.

As soon as Theo was out of earshot, Robbe turned to Jens furiously.

“Seriously Jens! You’re a fucking asshole!”

Jens just laughed, sending Robbe a look that suggested Robbe might have been an asshole too. Sighing, Robbe let his head drop in his arms, facing the table and closed his eyes.

“Fuck my life.”

-----------

Robbe hadn’t managed to get drunk at the pre-party like he’d planned to. The boys had hogged the beers at first, relenting a grand total of two beers to Robbe, claiming he had to be sober to meet Theo.

Robbe really needed to find new friends.

So, here he was, sitting on a couch with his third beer in, like, four hours, and bored out of his mind. He watched the people come and go, dancing in the middle of the room or making out in darkened corners. The walls were illuminated by a soft glow, emanating from tiny colourful led lights stuck all around. The stereo was playing some rap song Robbe didn’t know the name of, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t even paying attention to the music.

Ever since they’d entered the party about half an hour earlier, Robbe had been on the lookout for a familiar strike of white. He hadn’t realized he’d been searching for him at first, but once he did, he chucked it off to habits and went to sit down where he was still currently sipping his drink.

He leaned his head backwards on the couch, closing his eyes slowly. Theo had texted him a few minutes ago that he was almost there, so Robbe’s peace was sure to be short-lived. He could try and escape, but he already felt like the biggest asshole on Earth, so he wasn’t going to also stand him up.

He’d meet Theo, have a few drinks with him and then excuse himself by making up some bullshit excuse and he’d go home to wallow in his own misery alone.

Feeling a light tap on his left shoulder, Robbe opened one of his eyes to peek at the person who’d decided to interrupt his small repose.

Theo , of course. At least now he could get this over with and get back to his bed.

“Hey! Sorry for the wait,” Theo greeted him, with his ever-lasting smile. Robbe wondered if he’d keep smiling if he told him why Robbe had even asked him out to begin with.

“No problem. I just…” Robbe gestured around him, unsure himself what exactly he was trying to say.

Theo sat next to him, their entire sides completely plastered to each other and Robbe felt a little like he was choking on air, and not in a good way.

They talked for a bit and in the time it took Robbe to even finish his beer, Theo had gone through more than a few unidentified sugary drinks, becoming more and more self-assured and talkative.

“Come dance!” Theo exclaimed, pulling on Robbe’s arm. Robbe shook his head, firmly sinking himself down further onto the sofa.

“No, no, I don’t dance”

Theo tutted him, unrelenting in his tugging. “Everyone dances! Come on, alsjeblieft…” Theo pouted, probably aiming to convince Robbe with his puppy eyes. The truth was, Robbe had invented that trick and he wasn’t about to be swayed by an amateur. However, he was tired and he had an inkling that Theo wouldn’t stop until he got Robbe up on that dancefloor.

So, up he went.

The song had moved on to something more upbeat and clubby, but Robbe couldn’t make his limbs move in any way that resembled dancing unless he was properly hammered, which, again, he wasn’t.

Theo really didn’t seem to mind though, as he was dancing closer and closer to Robbe. As Theo’s hands came in contact with Robbe’s skin, his own hands instinctively rose up to the other’s hair.

He tried to push his thoughts away, but he couldn’t help comparing it to what he knew best: Sander. Theo’s hair was shorter and while it was well kept, it lacked the distinctive softness Sander’s had. It didn’t please Robbe’s fingers the way Sander’s did and when he tugged on the strands a little, the sound that escaped Theo’s mouth filled Robbe with disappointment. It didn’t make him hot all over, it didn’t make him want to burrow his fingers even deeper, no, instead Robbe had to fight the urge to pull his hands back entirely.

When Theo brought one of his hands to Robbe’s neck, guiding his head towards him and leaning in, it took everything in Robbe not to push him away. Their lips met harshly, but it didn’t feel like it should. Like he knew it would with a certain someone else.

As their lips glided together, the kiss felt sloppy and where Robbe couldn’t get enough of Sander’s hands on him, Theo’s felt scorching and bruising. Theo pushed a little forward, trying to deepen their kiss, but Robbe leaned his head back and away a little to prevent access.

This didn’t seem to dether Theo, however, who just slowly slid his mouth on Robbe’s jaw, all the way to his neck. Robbe felt a little dazed, as if he was having an out of body experience. He could feel Theo pull onto a small bit of skin on his neck with his teeth, but he didn’t get the wave of pleasure that usually came with it. It wasn’t painful, it just… wasn’t very much. When Sander would get a hold of his neck, however… Robbe was pretty sure he could come simply from Sander sucking hickeys onto him.

Theo bit a little harder, probably trying to get some kind of reaction from Robbe. Robbe brought his hands up, intending to detach Theo from where he was sucking like a leech at his neck, but before he could reach Theo, he felt him back away quickly.

Confused, Robbe blinked a few times to make the room clearer. That’s when he saw that Theo hadn’t backed away, he’d been quite literally rippedaway from Robbe.

By none other than the blonde who’d been occupying Robbe’s brain himself.

“What the fuck, man!?” Theo shouted at Sander, panting as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

Sander wasn’t paying him any attention, though, all of his focus being on Robbe. He looked a little disheveled, his hair in disarray and his pupils blown. Robbe had seen him in a similar state before, but it was usually while they were right about to have sex, pleasure and anticipation written all over his features. Now, all he could see on Sander’s face was a heart-wrenching mixture of anger and betrayal.

“Sander? What… Why...?” Robbe started, unable to find the right words to voice his thoughts.

Sander’s gaze bore into Robbe’s and it was painful to maintain, but Robbe was unable to tear his eyes away, in a trance-like state.

Theo’s voice shook him out of it, cutting through the tension like a sharp knife.

“So you’re Sander, I thought that was you too, with the whole…” Theo looked Sander up and down with a slight scrunch of his nose. “Moody thing going on.”

Sander finally turned his head towards him, his jaw clenching as soon as his eyes landed on Theo.

“Stay away from this.” He turned back to Robbe, clearly unbothered by Theo’s presence. “I knew you were an ass—”

Theo cut him off, now sounding angry as well. “Just because Robbe doesn’t have feelings for you doesn’t mean you get to insult him like this.”

Robbe knew he should intervene, prevent the situation from escalating, but he felt frozen in place. His brain was in overdrive and he just felt like running away, but his legs refused to obey. So, he stared, helpless, as they bickered on.

“Ok, who the fuck are you exactly?” Sander growled at Theo, rising the volume of his voice even more. By now, they were practically screaming and Robbe was thankful for the loud music covering the exchange from prying ears.

Theo puffed his chest out a little, a gesture which would have made Robbe laugh under any other circumstance, staring right at Sander as he said, “His date. Who are you ?”

Sander’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the bold answer, but the surprise on his traits was soon replaced by conceit. He smirked, quirking his mouth in just the right way to seem insolent and charming at the same time.

To anyone else, Sander might have looked like he was going to make a silly joke, but Robbe knew him better than that.

“I’m the guy who had him screaming under me more times than I can count, but I guess Robbe failed to mention that, hm?” Sander answered, turning to Robbe, wearing his most innocent smile. “Right, Robbe?”

Robbe looked away, unwilling to play into Sander’s game, but also unable to deny what he’d said.

Sander turned back to Theo, whose face had turned completely red, both from embarrassment and anger, Robbe guessed.

“No, really, was it not a problem for you? I got worried my neighbours would send a formal complaint,” Sander laughed, dryly, his tone void of humour. At the sight of Theo’s reddened face and Robbe’s avoiding eyes, something lit up in Sander’s eyes, as if he’d just made the link he needed to deliver the last blow.

“Oh, have you not…? Oh, well that’s awkward, isn’t it?” Sander smiled, as Theo took a step towards him. Instead of backing away, Sander gave him a little pout, before letting out a small ‘Oops?’ that suggested he was anything, but sorry.

Robbe felt like he was boiling inside with shame, but, more than anything, he wanted this whole thing to be over. As he raised his foot to take a step between the two boys, he was cut off by Theo’s fist flying towards Sander.

Robbe let out a small scream, but Theo missed Sander by a good few inches. Robbe was about to sigh in relief, thankful Theo wasn’t sober, when he saw Sander reel his own arm back.

It happened like in slow motion. Robbe, standing there, dumbfounded, as Sander punched Theo square in the jaw, making him stumble a few steps to the side. Some blood fell into Theo’s hand and the mere sight of it sprung Robbe into action.

“Enough!” He screamed, making both boys turn to him. “You’re acting like two fucking macho idiots! You guys keep fighting it out, I don’t care, I’m going the fuck home.”

With that, Robbe turned on his heels, pushing through the swarms of bodies and heading straight for the door. He stomped his way down the alley, angry at Theo, at Sander, but mostly at himself.

As he reached the street, he could hear his name being called from behind, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, satisfied when the screaming stopped following him. He slowed down, feeling so overwhelmed he thought he might start to cry. As he came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, a familiar hand wrapped around his wrist, gently, but firmly turning him around.

It was Sander, of course it was. The only thing that kept Robbe from wretching his arm away from Sander’s hold was the creases of worry that were etched into his forehead. The anger from earlier was gone and the emotions whirling in Sander’s eyes gripped and pulled at Robbe’s heart.

“Robbe…” Sander started. His tone was low and calm, almost tender in the way it’d been last time when Robbe had  freaked out in the closet. It pained Robbe, probably a lot more than anger would have.

“Sander. I’m tired, ok, I just… Can we just not fight for one night?” Robbe pleaded, truly feeling like his bones suddenly weighed more than they should. He was tired, tired of this, tired of not knowing, tired of the push-and-pull, just so tired.

Sander stared at him for a beat, staying silent. Robbe sighed, starting to pull his arm away, but Sander held on.

“I don’t want to fight,” Sander said quickly, as if he was worried Robbe would run away if he took one second too long to answer. Robbe wasn’t even sure he had the energy left to walk, let alone run.

“Then what, Sander?” Robbe asked, trying to sound annoyed, but ending up somewhere between fatigue and worry.

This time it was Sander’s turn to sigh, running his free hand through his strands of hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, making sure he held Robbe’s gaze as he spoke. “For what I said, in there. I’m not sorry I punched that asshole,” Robbe gave him a warning look, but Sander just winked and kept going.

“I’m not. He deserved it. But I am sorry for what I said about you. I was angry and I had no right to say that. I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”As soon as he was done talking, Sander averted his eyes , refusing to see Robbe’s reaction to his words.

Robbe wasn’t sure what he was meant to think, but he knew one thing: he was exhausted of thinking.

So, he did the first thing that went through his mind, stepping closer to Sander and latching onto his lips.

Sander immediately responded, pressing back against Robbe’s lips. Their usual kisses were heated and filled with urgency, but this one was anything but. Their lips met softly and they kissed leisurely, savoring every second of it. As Sander’s hands came to their spot on Robbe’s waist, their creases almost imprinted there, Robbe broke the kiss off slowly. He quickly pecked Sander’s lips one more time, making the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“Come over?” Robbe asked, whispering. He felt like a single loud noise could shatter the bubble they made in the alley.

Sander rubbed his nose with Robbe’s softly, breathing out a ‘yes’ in the air between them.

The walk over to Robbe’s apartment was slow. They walked side by side, stopping from time to time to steal a kiss or two. Their smile was permanent and the air between them felt playful and void of its usual tension. Yet, it didn’t feel like anything was missing, on the contrary. Robbe felt full and light, as he raced Sander for the last mile to his front door.

Robbe won, obviously, but his words lacked their usual bite when he called Sander ‘slow as fuck’. They made their way upstairs, Robbe constantly having to shush Sander who was tripping over the stairs from trying to get up first.

“Sander!” Robbe screamed in a hushed voice, “I have roommates, be quiet!”

Sander only turned around briefly to offer him a toothy grin, before he’d go right back to his antics. Robbe laughed along, following him inside the apartment and all the way to his bedroom.

They took their shoes and jackets off, throwing them carelessly on the floor. Sander walked towards Robbe, making him take steps backwards until his knees hit the bed. He smirked up at Sander as he let himself fall ungraciously on the bed. Sander laughed, maneuvering him around a bit to comfortably climb over.

Sander’s face appeared right above Robbe’s, both smiling at each other like idiots. Sander raised his hand, slowly bringing it to Robbe’s face. He caressed the side of his face slowly, settling his palm over his jaw, right where the disappearing bruise of their distant fight remained.

Sander bent down, wetting his lips with his tongue right before he met Robbe’s mouth. That kiss was just like the one they’d shared outside of the party, slower and softer than their usuals, but just as passionate. Robbe brought his hand to Sander’s hair, tucking a strand behind his ear before brushing his fingers through it.

The familiar feeling made him smile into their kiss, which in turn made Sander lean his head back, one eyebrow raised in question.

“I missed your hair,” Robbe half-whined, tucking on a few strands to demonstrate his point. Sander snorted, resting his forehead on Robbe’s.

“Only my hair? I’m hurt,” Sander teased, but Robbe winced, hearing the honesty behind the banter.

Robbe held Sander’s entire face between his two palms, locking it in place. “No. I missed you too.” Robbe said, hoping that Sander could hear the honesty in his voice too.

Robbe saw something twitch in Sander’s eyes, like a crack in the wall he’d carefully built around himself. Sander nodded, serious, before his lips curved into yet another smirk.

“Oh, yeah? Any parts of me in particular?”

Robbe smiled, pretending to think it over. Sander took advantage of Robbe’s distraction to slide his free hand under his shirt, stroking his skin softly. Robbe’s muscles shifted under Sander’s palm and Robbe let out an involuntary gasp, making Sander look at him proudly.

“Yeah, your hands,” Robbe said quietly.

Sander smiled even more. “What else?” He asked, now bringing both hands under Robbe’s shirt, lifting it up slightly. Robbe curved his back a little to help Sander pull the shirt off. Robbe tucked at Sander’s shirt, removing it swiftly so he could have Sander’s hands on him again.

Without breaking eye contact, Sander lowered himself until his head was over Robbe’s chest, pressing his lips right above his stomach as he trailed his way down with open-mouthed kisses. Robbe sighed with satisfaction, sinking further in the mattress.

Suddenly, as Sander started sucking a bruise on his hip, Robbe remembered the singular hickey Theo had been trying to etch into his skin earlier. Tugging on Sander arms’, Robbe brought him back up to face him. Sander’s eyebrows were furrowed, probably wondering why Robbe was interrupting him.

“On my neck,” Robbe said, pointing the general direction of where Theo had been attached to his neck.

A look of recognition passed through Sander’s eyes as he looked at Robbe’s neck. Still, he asked, “Are you sure?”

Robbe nodded, giving a small smile as he admitted quietly, “I like yours better”.

Sander smiled brightly at Robbe, before diving back in. The second Sander started sucking on Robbe’s skin, Robbe knew it was right. His whole body lit up, a fire burning in his stomach, flames licking all the way up his body as Sander licked his way down.

Once Sander’s hands made it to Robbe’s jeans, it was a quick affair. Both of their pants were discarded in a matter of seconds, underwears quick to follow. Sander began to lower himself, stopping short of Robbe’s skin.

“This is ok, right?” Robbe nodded rapidly, whispering a small “Yeah, more than ok,” with a smile.

Sander grinned back, licking his lips before wrapping them around Robbe.

Robbe let out a small whimper as Sander started working his way up and down in precise motions. As he clenched his hands in Sander’s hair, Robbe felt a thick mist envelop his thoughts.

Hands sliding over skin, rough and needy.

Lips envelopping, soft and comforting.

Hair being tugged, harsh yet soothing.

And love being made, bruising yet tender.

Once they were both lying next to each other, blissed out and still trying to catch their breath, Robbe turned on his side, facing Sander.

“Your mouth,” Robbe said, hushed.Sander just hummed in question, unmoving.“You asked what else I’d missed. Your mouth, I’d missed your mouth.” Robbe admitted, smiling softly to himself.

That made Sander turn his head towards Robbe. He smiled too, idly caressing Robbe’s face.

“I missed your dick, mostly,” Sander said.Robbe chuckled and playfully pushed at his shoulder. Sander simply brought his arm over Robbe’s waist, bringing him even closer to his body. Robbe raised his head, laying it on Sander’s chest, right over his heart. The sound of his heartbeat, still a little too fast, was soothing and Robbe felt himself slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Sander’s voice brought him back to the surface.

“Robbe?”

Robbe hummed, physically unable to move a single muscle.

“This, tonight… This means something right? Something more?” Sander asked, his voice laced with insecurities in a way that broke Robbe’s heart a little.

So, he snuggled closer, laying a small kiss over Sander’s heart before settling back down. “Yes,” he breathed, “It does.”

Robbe felt Sander shift a little under him, just as a kiss was laid atop his head.

And there, as they laid cuddled up together in Robbe’s bed, there was no doubt in Robbe’s mind that what he felt for Sander was so very far from hatred.

So, so very far.

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

Won't You Cut Down That Apple Tree For Me?

Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.

He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.

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TW FOR VOMITING AND IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE

god I love my crime moms

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Peter was an intelligent man.

He had to be, his entire life career depending on it.

His career also depended on him being constantly ready to go, always nimble, and on his feet.

So when he woke up to a chest and head filled with cotton, he knew he had to file it away if he wanted to stay on the Carte Blanche.

He looked into the mirror over the sink, his face was a sickening pale with a violent flush over his cheeks, and dark rings under his eyes.

He sighed, it was gonna be a long day, they had a debrief planned for a heist, not until the next week, which he hoped whatever this was would clear up by then.

It was later than he usually got up, meaning almost everyone was up, Jet was usually already up by now, Vespa and Buddy woke up shortly after him, Rita was up around the same time as he was, and Juno slept the latest, not waking up for an hour or so after Rita, meaning he had about half an hour before his lady woke up.

He quickly got his makeup out, and speedily did it, namely ignoring the slight burning he felt from it, his skin did always get sensitive with fevers.

His body ached, more so than usual, a doctor had once described it as a condition which caused his nerves to fire near constantly, leaving him in constant pain, sometimes worse than other times.

He knew that, realistically, the illness would make the pain worse, meaning it would be harder to hide both conditions from the crew as he had been doing.

Juno had only found his cane, which he refused to use, once, when he was sleeping in Nureyev’s cabin while looking for an extra blanket due to the chilliness of the Carte Blanche, and Peter was able to brush it off as something from an old disguise and a joke about old age.

Juno seemed to believe him, and for that he was thankful.

With his makeup done, he quietly slipped back into his cabin, where Juno laid sleeping sound, to grab his clothing, choosing a comfortable button-down and a pair of loose-fitting dress pants, much more laid back than his usual attire, and he prayed it wouldn’t turn any heads.

Peter ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the heat he felt on his own head, and he stepped out of his room, slowly and painfully making his way to the kitchen.

“Good morning Peter, you’re up later than usual. Is everything alright?”

Buddy didn’t sound worried, probably just assumed he was slacking off.

“My apologies, Captain, I’m doing well.”

He was distantly aware he didn’t make much sense, but the layer of fog between him and everyone else made it a bit difficult to actually care.

Buddy nodded, but Peter noted that Vespa didn’t look convinced, understandable saying she was the ship’s Doctor of sorts.

He felt arms wrap around his stomach, and his lady rest his head against his back, still heavy with sleep.

“Goodmornin Mista Steel and Mista Ransom!”

Rita, energetic as always, bounced into the kitchen and sat on a stool at the table, and Jet placed a coffee before her, overloaded with cream and sugar, just how she liked it.

His beloved groaned into his back and nuzzled his dave further into his back.

“You both seem tired today, have a fun night?”

Juno groaned, and peter laughed softy, not having the energy to formulate a reply, and Juno slipped away quietly, sitting next to Rita as Jet handed him his own coffee, and Peter only mourned the loss of contact momentarily.

He sat next to Juno, and Jet handed him his usual drink of choice, which was a herbal tea with ungodly amounts of honey.

He smiled at the kind man, who nodded back gently, never one for expressions.

A shiver ran through him as he grasped the hot mug, and he hoped that no one saw it, all while the residential doctor was staring bullets through him.

Everyone split up after that, knowing they’d need to remeet for dinner and the debrief and a part of Peter wasn’t sure he’d make it that long.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Juno, who was saying something but it wasn’t really touching his brain.

“Nureyev, what’s wrong with you today?”

Ah, so Juno was perhaps noticing something.

“Nothing, my dear, just a little tired.”

Juno didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it.

Peter excused himself quietly to practice his newest identity for the heist, but realistically he was just planning on sleeping the time until the debrief away.

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Peter slept until he was awoken by a painful ache and burning feeling in his stomach, and he curled tighter into himself to try and avoid it.

He distantly remembered his time with Mag, how the few times he got sick, he was treated with a mix of soft comforts and angry lectures about how he was wasting time, how he’d never get anywhere like this.

He desperately tried to file these thoughts away, but was unable to, the images of Mags disappointed face, shifting into his bloodied body-

Peter whimpered and drew his blanket into his face, trying best he could to ignore the pain and ignore the crying he heard in his head.

The next thing he knew he was hanging over the side of his bed, heaving up a mix of his breakfast and bile, and he cried realizing what was happening.

He knew his attempts to move would make things worse, so he curled into a ball under the light blanket on his bed, and let himself fall into a fitful sleep.

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Juno knew something was off with Peter, and as a detective, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He made an internal list, Peter seemed to have woken up later than normal, and when he had hugged him, his skin seemed unnaturally hot.

Nureyev was ill.

Probably very ill, from the looks of it.

Juno sighed and ran his hands through this hair, he was never the best at taking care of people.

When he was young and Ben was ill, he spent most of it worriedly pacing by his bedside and doing what ben did for him, and stealing from stores when he needed something.

The one time Rita was ill, she was predictably good at caring for herself, only needing him to go and get some stuff from the store for her, which he did and possibly went overboard.

And when he was ill, and anyone would take care of him, it was Rita.

Even when he was with Diamond, Rita would always know, he came into work anyway but she’d be sure to take care of him there, and ask if he wanted to stay with her instead of Diamond.

He paced nervously around his room, thinking about what to do.

He could go into Nureyev's room and demand he admits he was ill right now, or he could be strategic, even though that involved letting the thief burn himself out some until he let his guard down.

He painfully decided the ladder might be the best option, and in an attempt to distract himself, he hung out with Rita, watching streams and ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest.

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It was dinner time on the Carte Blanche, and everyone was gathered in the kitchen.

Everyone except Peter.

Juno’s stomach dropped when he realized Peter wasn’t there, and he made eye contact with the rest of the crew, except for Jet who was pointedly avoiding it.

After a few seconds, a loud crash was heard from down the hallway, and within seconds they were all running down the hall to where it was.

Juno wasn’t usually the fastest runner, but when his love may have been involved he was incredibly fast, which is why he and Jet got there first.

Juno’s heart froze when he saw Nureyev, shaking and pale, in a pile of his own sick and covered in it unable to move.

Juno was hard to scare, but this did it for him.

“Fuck”

He crouched next to the ill thief, avoiding the pile of sick, and the ex-detective could feel the heat from him without even touching him.

Juno gathered his boyfriend into his arms as Vespa, Buddy and Rita ran into the room, Rita and Buddy stopping next to Jet, and Vespa joining Juno at Peter’s side.

“Fuck, he’s burning up.”

Vespa growled, as she held Peter’s limp wrist, checking for a pulse and temperature.

“I knew something was off why didn’t the idiot just tell us.”

Vespa was angry, understandably, she was a medic and she had threatened them all in the past if they kept something from her.

“Vespa, dear, why don’t we just take him down to the medbay and yell at him later on.”

Jet carried Peter to the medbay, where he was hooked up to an IV for hydration and given fever reducers, all by a grumbling Vespa, while Juno sat worriedly nearby.

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Juno sat next to the thief’s bed, him having been moved back into his room after it had been cleaned, mostly due to the more comfortable bed.

It has been a long day and Juno was beyond exhausted, Nureyev was still asleep, not having moved since they found him.

“J’no?”

The ex-detective bolted up from where he was falling asleep, against his will, and looked around before his eye landed on the thief.

“Peter, oh thank god.”

Juno shifted, sitting on the side of the bed and running his hands through his love’s hair, checking his temperature and offering comfort.

“Hi, love, how do you feel?”

The sick man looked around, confused, and tired.

“What happen’d?”

Juno’s heart broke at the confusion and pain his boyfriend was in, a tenderness he didn’t know he was cable of feeling until today washed over him.

“You got sick, baby, we had to take you to the medbay and you have an IV, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

Peter leaned into Juno’s hand, which was now on his cheek, and a look of guilt washed over him.

“Di’nt wanna bother you, busy and all that.”

Juno wiped a tear that slipped down Peter’s face, and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“Baby, you’re always more important then anything we’re working on, I don’t care if you’re just a little sick, I wanna know so I can help you.”

Peter still looked guilty, and Juno slipped his slippers off, and climbed into the bed with the thief.

“Vespa will probably be by soon to check on you, you gave all of us a scare.”

As if on cue, someone knocked on the door and it opened to reveal Buddy, Vespa, Rita, and Jet standing behind it, Vespa with her medical kit, Buddy holding a tray of tea, Rita with snacks, and Jet with a stack of blankets and pillows.

“Hello darlings, we thought we’d keep you some company, some family time, hm?”

Vespa walked over, angry as always, and looked over the thief, who lay confused and half asleep, after a few moments, her posture eased and she moved to take out the IV.

Jet set the pillows and blankets on the ground, and Rita quickly organized them all into a pile, after safely handing the snacks to Jet, and Buddy set the tea on the nightstand, pouring a cup for everyone and adding honey to Peter’s.

She and her wife then sat in some chairs in the room, and Rita turned on the streams, and Peter fell asleep surrounded by his family.

[wendibird]

SPN 15X18 Observations

Let me preface this by saying, I apologize ahead of time if I and/or my notes seem a bit cynical. I’ve had a rough week. (I think everyone has.) But for whatever it’s worth, here are my notes, observations and meandering thoughts on tonight’s episode.

Oh, one more thing though. For episodes 19 and 20 (and anything really to do with them) in addition to my usual tags for the episodes and season, I’ll be tagging them with #dontspoilthefinalhunt for any who wish to avoid spoilers for them.

Pre-Episode thoughts:

So, I’ve heard enough rumors already to know that mooooost likely Cas is going to die this episode. And let me be clear, he’s my second favorite character in this show after Sam. But I have trouble feeling strong emotions for something when I go in knowing that I should. But I’m going to try to go into this one with an open mind. 

Also, in the past I liked Billy as a character because though she still had some biases, she still seemed mostly neutral, like OG Death had been. And from previews it looks like maybe they’re turning her into an outright villain like they’ve done with God? Yey. 

- Where’s Chuck? Did he just bampf off?

- So he’s gonna blow up in the Empty?

- Yep.

- So now Dean cares about him? (Jack)

- Poor Jack. He doesn’t get what’s going on. 

- Yey! Jack is back! 

- “You’ve snapped me out of worse.” When?

- They’ve prayed to Michael? Yey for not overlooking options! (Not being sarcastic.)

- Charlie!!!! And yey she has a girlfriend! (Are they gonna kill her?) 

- Aaaaaaand there she goes.

Commercial thoughts:

So, I get the whole narrative idea of taking a character that everyone assumed was kinda on your side and revealing that they were always working towards their own interests. I get it. And it can be effective. I still don’t like it with Billy. 

I’m glad Dean said what he did to Sam. Even if Sam says (and probably thinks) that he doesn’t need to hear the apology, sometimes it needs to be said anyway. And I think saying it all helped Dean a bit too. He needed to know that Sam understood. 

I’m glad Jack’s back though!

- Oh Jack. You’re worth more than your death. 

- I’m glad Cas is saying this, but sadly, I think the “we” only applies to him and Sam. 

- So Jack is powerless when he came back? Did the bomb thing burn out it all out?

*is confused*

- Yey! Eileen! (Please don’t have her just vanish….)

- I’ma cry….

- Oh no……

- “If I let myself go there I’ll lose my mind. I can’t go there right now.”  

- Oh Sam. Always trying to push down his feelings because there’s other shit going on. 

- Hug!!!!!!!

- Sam’s gonna drive Eileen’s car. Just shoot me now….

Commercial thoughts:

So yeah… Wonder what Billy’s plan is here with this random picking-off of people but not like, all at once. She COULD do it all at once, she has the personel. (The Empty didn’t kill all her reapers.) 

I think she’s setting her own kind of trap or something. 

Also, I take it Chuck just vanished? They didn’t say anything about it but that seems to be the impression given.

Still pisses me off though that after bringing Eileen back and only half-assing her role they just had her vanish. (At least Rowena’s in charge of hell, so if she wound up down there again, she SHOULD get a better shake than she did the first time.) 

- Donna!!!!

- Eileen’s Car…… *cries* 

- Sam’s got so much emotional stuff going on this episode. He’s got this grief for Eileen in the background and he’s worried about Jack and trying to help him, and trying to save all these people.

- OUch……. Double ouch. (Were in references to the expressions on Sam’s face when Donna first comforted him about Eileen and then Charlie made her comment about not wanting anyone else to go through what she did.) 

- (Yes, I’m worried about Dean and Cas too.) 

- Sam’s still their “Chief”.

- That's weird….. Why does his touch kill plants? (Not people at least.)

- Yeah, she (Billy) was waiting.

- Oh dear…..

- So what IS causing this?

- NO! NOT DONNA!

- WTF?!

Commercial thoughts:

So Chuck is doing this? I mean, it makes sense. He’s gotten petty enough. But now what? 

Also poor Sam. I mean, he tries so hard to save people. And time after time it just doesn’t work out. It could be seen as part of “Chuck’s Plan” because of how he wants his big story to go. So now I guess he’s just being more direct about it. Sam isn’t allowed to do well unless it’s been authorized by the Narrative. (AKA, him.) When he tries, he just gets shown the error of trying. (But he’s beaten down if he doesn’t try too. Like S8.) 

Also still don’t like how Billy’s character has changed.

- She thinks she’s Freddy Kruger?

- Heart attack? His first “death” was supposed to be his heart. (In “Faith”) Wonder if that’s intentional here?

- Oh god… please don’t tell me they’re going to…. 

Commercial thoughts:

Okay. I don’t ship Destiel. At all. I’m not an anti though, cause I’m firmly a ship-and-let-ship kind of person. 

But that scene while very heartfelt just didn’t do anything for me because it felt more than a bit like revisionistic history. However, I will say, congrats to the Destiel fandom. They killed Cas, but that scene was definitely for you all. 

They’re killing off so many people though it’s like… this is one of my problems when I’m going into a situation where I’m “supposed” to feel a certain way. It makes me awkward. (Like the Episode “Lebanon”.) 

- Gah, poor Sam. 

- WTF?! Is Chuck taking everyone in the world? 

- FUCK?! THAT’S WHERE THEY’RE LEAVING IT OFF?!?!?!?

Okay, so my hope is now, since they’ve gone THIS far with what Chuck is doing, that unless the ultimate resolution of the story is going to be “everything goes away forever” they’re going to have to leave some way to bring people back. 

I’ll be honest, I had trouble connecting emotionally with this episode. But that may not be the episode’s fault. I’ve been working some long hours lately and I just today found out that someone I work with has tested positive for Covid. (I just got tested today.) Plus with all the election stuff still going on, there’s a lot of real-world things on my mind. 

Also, as I said, knowing that these are the final episodes, it’s pretty much a given that things are going to ramp up. (And the people involved with the show have been telegraphing the hell out of Cas’ death, so it wasn’t unexpected. And I get it. Some people really do need that time to prepare emotionally and adjust their expectations.) But I still feel like a lot of the things they’re asking/expecting us to care about, they haven’t put the actual effort into the storytelling to make that happen. I love the absolute shit out of Eileen, but for most of this season she’s been written as little more than an accessory to Sam. And just so he can have some “feels” about someone. And then she gets vanished without so much as a last glimpse of her? (And this episode was filmed before everything closed down due to Covid.) 

I mean, his reaction STILL tore me up, because Jared is that damn good at conveying those emotions. But once again, like LAST time they killed her off, it was amongst so much other shit that there’s barely time for him to even feel it. In fact, he even said that he couldn’t because of what else was going on. And by the end of the episode pretty much everyone else in the world is Thanos-snapped too? 

And I get it, this episode is clearly not about her. It’s about the whole situation. It just still feels like a disservice to the character.

And speaking of disservices to characters…

So, about what Cas said in his speech/confession to Dean. The revisionistic retelling of history has been strong this season, but that was especially bad. We know from past episodes that Cas has ALWAYS had “a crack in his chassis” and always had sympathy and love for humanity. We know that he cares about a lot of people, and has put a lot of effort into becoming a better being. (Just a few episodes ago he talked about how he truly found his purpose when he became a father. And he also had talked about finding his true family.) But no. Apparently all of that character development was just because of Dean. What bothers me isn’t that he told Dean “I love you.” What bothers me is that it truly feels like Cas’ entire character was reduced to one half of a ship. 

Okay, and what also bothers me is that Sam was literally an afterthought in all of that. When for most of these years, Sam has been the one who’s been the most supportive and understanding of Cas. Sam is the one who lately has had the closer connection with him. But naw. He ain’t important, except as an extension of Dean. 

And I get they were trying to throw some fanservice to that corner of the fandom, especially since Cas was slated to die 3 episodes before the end. But they could have done it better. I’ve read fanfic that handled Destiel in a more believable way. (I was reading for the Saileen content as they’re often put in as a sister-ship and it can be hard to find fic of them without it.) And technically this wasn’t even requited. Dean looked more shocked than anything, though I admit that's up to interpretation. But someone in one of the discord servers I'm in posted a picture of that part of the script for this episode and it outright said in the directorial notes that Cas said what he did knowing that Dean didn't/couldn't return his affection the same way. So, there is that.

There were other aspects of the episode I also had thoughts on, like, wtf is up with Jack not having his usual powers but wilting plantlife? Some extension of the bomb-thing? Is he radioactive now to anything with “Celestial energy”? But wouldn’t that have made him give Cas problems too? Or is this supposed to be indicating something else? Amara did that too before she started turning lighter, back in Season 11. Is he somehow turning into the Darkness? Or did he come back from the Empty partially possessed by Lucifer? Gah. I don’t even know. I’m just throwing ideas at a dart board now. *LOL* 

And at this point, wtf CAN they even do against Chuck? I really don’t know. I’m hoping the next episodes are better, but I know 19 was written by Buckleming and they don’t have the best track record. True, a few of their episodes I’ve actually enjoyed. But sometimes they fall short on writing the Brothers Winchester. 

Anyway, I think I’ve probably rambled enough for now.

[haninabaninah-word]

The Miracle of Grace

My reflection on today’s Sunday Service: https://youtu.be/abGZXBZKPHs

Introduction: 

Dreams

A dream is a wish your heart makes. Having dreams for something is usually a sign of having the heart for something. I used to have dreams for the church, even for myself - save many people, serve others, give my all. I’ve stopped dreaming about those things recently. Like Rob (the speaker), reality sets in and I just think, “It’s not gonna happen.” I’m too tired, I can’t even manage myself, my own life itself is hard, everything is too hard. It’s not gonna happen.

But he said, “If you want to do more things for God you’ve got to change how you view God and things.” And this involves understanding what grace is, the reason for repentance and changing our view of things.

Grace and Fairness

Matthew 20:1-16

This passage will really make your jaw drop in the way paid labor is depicted. I know this passage talks about how God is gracious, God is fair, and he can do anything he wants with his money. However, even after reading this passage, and even after understanding that it’s God who has the choice, I still couldn’t help but think, “that’s so unfair.” In general, for people who do the same work, the ones who work longer should be paid more. This hits home because in our company, I am the one working on the payroll of the employees. You have to be fair to those who work hard.

It really is a hard concept to grasp. I can relate to one of the people he’s interviewed, I feel like I only understand grace in theory.

But understanding generosity is our main job as disciples. When you don’t get this, it robs off your Christian life of power. 

This has always been in my prayers. I want to understand grace, to really appreciate the cross deep in my heart.

I like the direction he took: How do we understand grace?

1. Don’t believe everything that you think.

Jeremiah 17:9

Sometimes we can have weird thoughts about God. God hates us. God is unforgiving. (Even if we know the truth in theory, it doesn’t always really translate into our hearts and into our lives.) The illustration he gave really shows us how our scars can affect this. Our thoughts come from situations that have nothing to do with God! The problem really lies not in who God is, but on how our own history has altered our view of him. (It also kind of makes me think how even I ended up like this when I’ve been raised by loving and permissive parents.)

But it really felt like a challenge, also, to be humble. Accept that not everything you think is correct - and to be honest, I definitely have the tendency to only accept my own worldview.

2. Be careful about mind-reading.

1 Corinthians 2:10-12

Often times, we judge people instantly, and imagine the words they seem to be thinking. This is true for me, and I always have to stop, be considerate and remember that there’s probably more happening behind the scenes than I know. He gave a really good example of the paradigm shift - and after that illustration, I thought, this is exactly what repentance is! This is the paradigm shift that God asks of us - understanding something better, so that you think differently, feel differently, and act differently after that.

It reminds me of Isaiah 55:8-9:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,    neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth,    so are my ways higher than your ways    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

We don’t know the mind of God. I don’t always know what he thinks, or what he’s doing behind the scenes.

And this idea should cause a paradigm shift in me. “If we’re gonna change our behavior and who we are, we’re gonna have to change how we view this world and how we view God.”

By the end of this lesson, I thought about the earlier passage in Matthew. What don’t I know or understand that could change the way I think about how God gives the fair wages? Then I thought, maybe all of them were starving to death before they were hired. If I were starving to death, just trying to survive, I would be really grateful for just any opportunity to earn and have food to eat. If this was my only choice, I would be grateful to receive just anything. Maybe they were taken cared of earlier as they were working, they had more protection, they had more resources. Maybe God even knew, money would have no value after that day, that after those work hours everybody gets the same food, nobody has to work anymore, so what use would it be to have more money than the other?

When I think about it, this is actually exactly the case in heaven. Money has no value, it doesn’t matter whether you have a lot or a little. Before Jesus allowed us to have communion with us, we were all starving, dying, and we only had this option to be able to live anyway. God gave an option of life to us, us whose only direction was death. That’s exactly what grace is!

I really pray to have the power to understand God’s love, like how Paul prayed. It’s the core of discipleship. It’s the reason we do things. (2 Corinthians 5:14-15)

It’s great Rob gave us practical things to do:

Dig in to the generosity of God. Remind yourself that you are loved. Mediate on it for 10 minutes. This kind of practical works for me, I know what to do! But I appreciate him for saying that it’s not natural. Many times I have beaten myself up for not having it in me to appreciate him, that I continually have to work on it. But apparently, it’s not natural for everybody!

Counter negative thoughts with a Bible promise. Ask God. I’ve been doing this, especially the asking God part. But it’s always a good reminder to remember Scripture, the only truth we can truly trust. Remember God’s promises, remember God’s character. To me, today, it is Isaiah 55:8-9 that helps me change my view of things.

Additional reflection:

1. How has God been so generous to you lately? He’s really blessed me with all the resources, everything I need, despite not actually working too hard. I have shelter, I have food, I even have the opportunities to practice my hobbies. And despite denying him many times, he always gives me chances to be encouraged.

2. What are the things that cloud your thinking about God? Like I said, I do assume sometimes that God is not working. With this pandemic that has been on for ages, many people are suffering, going hungry, getting sick. There are a lot of issues happening, political and socio-political. Sometimes it seems there is no hope, I just want to leave the world.

Another thing that clouds my thinking is my own self-esteem. It’s at both extremes, I’m often prideful and I also often have low trust in myself and the things that I can do. And because of this, I get stumped. I stop doing things.

But God is working! Isaiah 55! Even I don’t understand how he works, not only in the world, but also in me and through me. He has the power that I will never be able to fathom.

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone - 12

Masterpost

"I'm not sure that's actionable," Pepper remarks. "We don't want to burn our source, after all."

"It's useless anyway if we don't know where they'll move," Fury states coldly. "So nothing changes. You'll keep observing Barrandov and once they pack up and leave, we'll start patrolling the entire city until we find them again. The other ones are located, yes?"

"Yes," Sharon confirms. "We'll pull back now in order not to make them suspicious, only check in once in a while that they're still there."

"Bílá Hora's under control," Natasha mutters. "That's what he said."

"Time's running out," Fury reminds them. "So, how is the ice block?"

"I don't know," Tony replies. "How are you?"

"Fuck off," Natasha hisses.

"I was talking to Fury," Tony replies graciously. "It turns out you can actually be a nice person, you just don't like us."

"Stop acting like fucking children," Fury interrupts. "Banner?"

Bruce rubs the dark circles under his eyes. "I don't know. I looked at the vampire blood and it's got some properties that… The frozen man might have not gotten frost damage, my colleagues might be right about that, but if we're going to thaw him, we'll need to reconstruct a lot of tissue. And maybe injecting him with vampire blood could do that. I might be colossally wrong, though."

"You'd turn him into a vampire," Fury states.

"Injecting vampire blood does not turn you into a vampire," Bruce replies. "That has been extensively studied, in Russia, ask Natasha. Only the poison bite. I looked at the poison and the blood and… it's not very scientific but think of a beehive. The vampire cells in the blood are workers, they can't reproduce, so they just do their job until they fall apart. The poison, though, has the bee queens. They keep churning out workers and new queen cells, and that never ends. So, if we inject him with vampire blood, the workers will repair his body and then die, leaving him a functioning and human body. I hope. Again, I'm at the very start of understanding this massively complex system, it might totally backfire."

"The guy also must have frozen really really quick," Tony adds. "So there would be no real cause of death. He's just frozen in time."

"Do we even know if it's a guy?" Pepper asks critically. "You can't really make that out, in the ice."

Tony snorts. "Well, if it's a woman, she's certainly very tall and has very broad shoulders, cupcake."

"But we have no idea who he is," Clint remarks.

"None," Fury confirms. "They fished him out off the coast of Norway. He was inside some sort of plane but the cold salt water has corroded that so badly they haven't figured it out yet."

"But you'd need a lot of vampire blood, right?" Sam asks. "For his whole body."

"Oh yeah." Bruce rubs his eyes again. "A lot."

"I don't think Natasha's friend will give us that," Tony comments. "Depending on how much she has him under her thumb."

Yeah, they're not even on good terms. "Not an option. I could get a little, probably, but not a lot ."

"What if we smoke out a hunting party?" Sam suggests. "The one near Central Station. Three vampires. I mean, the Castle won't be surprised that we're hunting them."

"We couldn't hit them with silver, though," Sharon objects. "Contaminates the blood."

"That's gonna be tough," Clint remarks. "Without our weapons."

"We can still break their bones," Natasha argues. "Snap their necks. Cut their heads off with anything that's not silver. Even if we can't fully kill them, we can incapacitate them enough that we can get their blood, and then we can drive a wooden stick through their hearts."

"You're vicious," Tony remarks. "Seriously, you want to bring live vampires into the lab?"

"I'm not comfortable with that," Bruce announces. "Also, the UV traps will burn them to a crisp, even if you drag them in here."

"Turn them off for a short while," Sam suggests. "We're not going to be overrun because of that. And collecting the blood outside the lab is just not possible, we don't have the equipment for that."

"True," Bruce admits. "Maybe we could… cordon a part off for that."

"So," Fury states. "A raid."

"We are a lot of people," Clint admits. "Only three vampires, even if they're trained. It's doable."

"We were going to do it sooner or later anyway," Pepper reminds them.

"Barton, Carter, you know all the exits, draw up a plan," Fury orders. "Everyone else, keep staking out Barrandov, even if it's pointless, keep up the appearances. Banner and Stark stay in the lab, of course."

"My… friend might stop by tonight," Natasha offers. "Not sure, though."

"Might?" Tony repeats. "I better fucking hope he does. I really need the X-ray. Yeah, yeah, it won't kill him, we checked."

"Well, then we're all good," Fury remarks. "Now, get the fuck to sleep, you all look like zombies."

  She sleeps late into the afternoon. Sharon is in the gym, boxing against a sandbag. She almost turns right around but has already been noticed. "Oh. Hey."

"Hey," Natasha replies unenthusiastically.

"I'm not that good in unarmed hand-to-hand," Sharon admits, punching the sandbag again. "So I thought I'd train a little. Did you sleep well?"

"No," Natasha confesses. "Bunch of nightmares."

"Mhm." Sharon lowers her fists, breathing, sweat forming on her forehead. "I get those, too. I think every hunter does."

"Maybe," Natasha sort of agrees. "Uh, we could try sparring, if you want."

"Oh, sure." Sharon unwraps her hands. "You should get warmed up, though."

Natasha sighs, grabbing a jumping rope. "Right. Give me a minute."

"Mhm, sure." Sharon rolls her head slightly. "You didn't seem very happy this morning, if I may say so. Something with your friend?"

Natasha snorts, over the whipping sound. Yeah, how can she explain that. "I might have pissed him off again."

Sharon shrugs. "Happens, right? What was it about?"

She finds she doesn't want Sharon to view his involvement in their endeavor with suspicion. "I don't know. Just the- mixing of an interpersonal relationship and work, I guess. That always kills it."

"Quite the opposite, I'd say," Sharon disagrees. "He wouldn't be here if not for you, after all. You should be proud of that."

She's running out of breath, so she just bites her lip and says nothing, skipping over the rope. Sharon starts stretching, quietly. Someone's in the kitchen, frying something noisefully. Natasha stops, finding she kind of wants to talk. If it works for Pepper and Sharon and everyone else, really, why not for her? "I just- I don't know if- No, I guess that's too much."

"No, no, tell me," Sharon encourages. "Anything. Won't tell anyone else, promise."

Natasha sighs and goes to stuff the rope away, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe it's dumb but- what if he just wants sex?"

It's out, as cringy as it is. "Oh," Sharon remarks, pushing up and sweeping a fashionable escaped strand of hair back. "Oh. No, that's not dumb. Not at all. He's a vampire, after all."

Natasha snorts absent-mindedly. Right. "Maybe not all vampire."

"This job takes a lot," Sharon goes on. "Physically and mentally and- just, how it changes you. But there's gotta be limits. And sleeping with a vampire is one of those, I'd say."

Oh. Now she feels- every time she tries to do the same things as everyone else, the normal things, she ends up feeling bad about herself, like she's different, almost in human. "Forget about it."

"No, no, that's a totally real concern," Sharon interrupts. "You shouldn't feel that, just because he's helping us, that you have to do everything to keep him hooked. No one can ask that of you. Draw a line. And for him, just… just keep him at arm's length, as much as possible, without totally driving him away, of course."

Turns out Sharon is way more cynical than she looks. "No, really, forget about it. Come on, get in the ring."

Natasha holds the ropes up for her. "I'm glad you're talking to me, though," Sharon remarks, climbing through. "So, what are we doing?"

Natasha shrugs, feeling more comfortable. "Dunno. You have some training, right? Not a total beginner?" Sharon nods. "Okay, then let's just go. Hit me."

Sharon breathes deeply, taking a fighting stance. She strikes out with a hit and a kick, but Natasha grabs her leg, pulls it up and throws her down. Sharon hits the ground hard. Natasha doesn't waste time, moving to side control, pinning her opponent to the ground from the side of her torso, applying weight to her chest, slamming her chin up so that she can't bite- oh, tapping out. Shit. She gets up quickly. "Oh, sorry. You okay?"

"Yeah," Sharon rasps out, rubbing her jaw. "Wow, you really don't pull your punches."

"Habit," Natasha admits, pulling her up. "Vampire's way stronger, way faster, can't take any chances."

"No, you're right," Sharon agrees. "Did you do that a lot?"

Natasha shrugs. "In the beginning, when we didn't yet know what would work… we just broke them down, physically, incapacitate them, then cut off their head, burn them, all that. Wasn't very refined. Didn't have good tools either."

"Sounds brutal," Sharon remarks.

"Certainly," Natasha confirms. "Wanna go on?"

"Oh yeah," Sharon says. "Don't wanna get eaten by vampires after all."

  "Uh, hey," Natasha remarks. "Can I ask you something weird?"

"Great start," Sam comments, licking his finger. "Why, what is it?"

"Do you think I should pray?" Natasha asks, picking around her salad. "Even if I don't believe? Or is that blasphemous?"

Sam chuckles. "I don't know. Do you feel like praying?"

"I definitely feel like I should do something," she replies. "Something that's not… running around and killing things, you know? Something pure ."

"Try cooking," Sam suggests. "No, really. Praying is kind of like talking to Allah, and if you don't believe in that, it's probably weird. Or meditation. Everyone's different."

Natasha snorts. "Thanks, I already spend enough time sitting around and thinking, I don't need more of that."

"So you need a hobby?" Sam asks. "To keep busy?"

"I guess I wanna- something that feels better," Natasha explains. "Something that makes me feel better, about myself and all."

"I get it, it's grinding," Sam allows. "Yeah, you can try praying, if you want, no harm in that. But maybe you already know something that lifts your mood and you just forgot?"

"Maybe," Natasha admits. "I'll think about it. Uh, sun's going down, I guess I should leave you to it."

Sam snorts, grabbing his plate. "Wow. Are you the sharia police now?"

"No, no, I just don't wanna- I don't wanna keep you from it, really," Natasha repeats. "Think I'll go upstairs again, take a nap."

"Good idea," Sam remarks. "Sleeping is definitely keeping me sane."

  She doesn't actually sleep, just lies awake staring at the ceiling, mulling over the intractable uneasy feeling, so the knock doesn't startle her. "Yes."

"Your friend doesn't wanna submit to more tests," Tony's voice says. "You need to get down here and make him."

Anger bubbles up in her chest. "I'm not forcing him to do anything."

Tony sighs with exhaustion. "Just come on down. He says he wants to talk to you."

Well, she doesn't want to talk to him, after slamming the door last time, which was totally dumb and overreacting and pointless. Urgh. Hasn't she sufficiently proven she is horrible at this, this whole human shtick? She thought at least this… "Fine. Be down in a few minutes."

She doesn't bother getting dressed, just a t-shirt and sweatpants, combing her hair to one side, and then she shuffles down to the lab. Autopilot. Bruce is talking about some scan he wants to do, trying to calm and reassure a James who's clearly not even listening. Tony is looking as annoyed as he sounded, slouching on a chair arms crossed. "Oh, good that you're here," Bruce exclaims. "We actually found a way we can do the MRI, despite the metal in his arm, and in his teeth, I should add, so you just need to tell-"

"We need to talk," James interrupts.

Great. Phrase she loves to hear. "Fine. Let's talk ."

"Not that door," Tony interjects, tapping one foot. "That way's the ice block."

There's another door, fortunately, though it does have a glass pane. Will have to do. James has a quizzical look as he closes the door behind him. "What does he mean by ice block?"

"Long story," Natasha replies, crossing her arms. Another room with unholy amounts of lab equipment, for God knows what. "So. If it's about the fact that I was shitty to you last time, last night-"

"It's not about that," James interrupts.

"Oh." Somehow, that's worse. "What is it, then?"

"I'm going to leave town," he states. "And so should you. And everyone else, probably."

"What?" Oh, she was so right, he's just going to disappoint her. "Are you crazy?"

"There's another black cloak," James states. "In Prague. Arrived last night. I managed to avoid him so far but it's clear Schmidt sent him either after you or after me, in any case we need to-"

"Are you panicking?" Natasha asks.

"Am I- of course I'm panicking!" James groans. "The game's up and we need to see to it that you get out of it alive, that nobody's hurt because of my dumb-"

"Maybe it's not up," Natasha suggests. "Maybe he was just told to check in with you, see how it's going, that you're still doing as you're told. Then we'd just need to convince him everything is alright and boom, problem solved."

"You don't know him," James points out. "He's not going to leave without you, dead or alive. God, I thought he was in America anyways, that means we have to calculate with even more black cloaks-"

"James," she interrupts again. "I'm not going anywhere. Dead or alive."

"I can't stand the thought of you-" He sighs. "Run. Please. Just run. If you care for me, just a little bit, run."

"That's a real low blow," she remarks.

He rolls his almost white eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to you, doll, and this guy is going to drag you straight to hell and I just can't let that happen. Look, I would have liked to- be with you, really, but the only place you'll be safe is far from all this. Far from me. I can't protect you."

She breathes out. It's not like the prospect of another black cloak leaves her unfazed. "I think- I think we should talk to the others."

"It's not about them," he says. "It's about you. He's after you. Schmidt's after you. They don't understand, or they don't want to believe… but I know you need to run. It'll be hard but you're shrewd, you'll keep them off your tracks. I wish I could help you, I really do, but you'll only be safe far from me."

"No, you don't understand," Natasha returns. "We're a team."

  "This is bad," Clint remarks. "Really fucking bad."

"Are you sure it's-" Sharon tries.

"Yes," James snaps. "I'm sure. Absolutely fucking sure."

"Well, there's only one real solution," Sam remarks. "And I don't say this lightly, but we have to kill him. Simple as that."

"Nowhere near fucking easy, though," Tony replies. "Unless he's, like, the weakest black cloak in existence."

"He's not," James states coldly.

Clint groans. "If we don't kill him, he'll abduct Nat," Sam points out. "Or he'll tell Schmidt what's really going on, and then we have all black cloaks crushing down on us. When is your deadline again?"

"About 25 days," Natasha says. "And we're nowhere near ready."

"If we'll ever be," Tony mutters.

"Maybe we could convince him it's all right without Natasha?" Sharon suggests. "If she stays in here? He couldn't break in, right?"

"I can break in," James states coldly. "So Pierce can also break in."

"Seems we're back at killing him," Fury remarks. "Are you up for that?"

"Me?" James asks incredulously. "I'm- I don't know. He's strong. Maybe. It's a toss-up."

"And you don't want to risk that," Tony accuses.

"I don't give a fuck about dying," James returns coldly. "But if he kills me, Natalia's time is up. That's why she needs to run, right fucking now."

"I'm not going anywhere," Natasha repeats. "We always calculated we had to kill some amount of black cloaks at the end of this. This is only one. We'll kill him, as quietly as possible, without James' help, so that no one gets suspicious. And then we proceed as planned."

"We could upgrade the tower security," Bruce remarks. "We made you a mask and goggles and a hood, so you'd be safe from it. And then we could stay in until we're ready."

"This may be a bad idea," Pepper suggests. "But why don't you just talk to him, find out what his orders are?"

"Talk to him?" James repeats surprised. "What the hell would I tell him why this is taking so long?"

"Same thing you told the Castle," Natasha replies. "I'm stubborn as hell. That's pretty evident."

"Is Schmidt going to get suspicious?" Sam asks. "If his guy doesn't return in the next three weeks?"

James breathes out. "I don't know. Maybe not. Probably not. It's likely he'll just stay on until the deadline and then drag her to Schmidt, whether she wants to or not. Communication with Schmidt is difficult. I guess I could… ask Pierce."

"Different question," Sharon throws in. "Who's going out tonight? Are we still doing that?"

Clint groans. "Sam and I were supposed to. But I'm not very keen on dying, unlike certain other people."

"But we haven't seen the black cloak yet," Sharon argues. "And he probably knows that. So if we start holing up in here now, it's suspicious because we don't officially know yet."

"I don't think he'll randomly attack you," James says. "Not his style. But I could follow you, if you want, and distract him if he makes a move."

Clint clearly doesn't like putting his life in James' vampire hands. "Good enough for me," Sam states.

"I could… teach you some stuff," James suggests hesitantly. "What works against vampires. If you are really going to kill Pierce."

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" Tony questions.

James snorts. "Let's be honest, you just would have used it to kill me."

Silence. "Maybe," Fury acknowledges. "What changed?"

"I don't give a fuck anymore," James states coldly. "I want Natalia to get out of this alive. That's all I care about at this point."

"No one's dying on my watch," Fury returns. "Especially not Romanoff."

"What tricks, though?" Pepper asks, leaning on the table. "I'm curious."

"There's a few," James replies, nostrils flaring lightly. Yeah, he smells the blood. "Electricity, for instance."

"I thought electricity doesn't work," Tony points out.

"It doesn't kill a vampire," James acknowledges. "But it knocks out our senses, at a certain intensity. It's very painful and disorienting."

Tony grins widely. "Oh, I'd love to try that."

"Wilson, Barton," Fury interjects. "Are you ready to go out?"

Clint shrugs, Sam nods. "Guess we have to," Clint says. "I'd appreciate the backup, though."

"If you come back before sunrise and stay the day, I promise I'll stop Tony from electrocuting you," Natasha suggests to James.

"Oh yeah," Sam agrees. "There's a lot to talk about."

[flickityfics]

Chatting It Up

So this was tough to write but the incidents I mentioned involves the new girl parts I have developed. It's weird cause I don't know what to do or what the cause is. I wouldn't even be doing anything but at random times I feel myself getting slick? Also a strange throb, please explain this. Also you'll be happy to know I went and got proper clothes just as you said, a nice lady really helped me out with all sorts. Hope you're doing alright.

-Sokka

_____________________________________________

Hey gaang! How is everyone? The construction has been going smoothly just alot of work, it's tiring and boring so send me letters to keep me from dying of boredom please. I'm missing our adventures, I've been doing nothing but reading and taking notes for blueprints, it isn't all bad though, I've been watching the kyoshi warriors train and thinking about training with them again. I've gotta get back to work so hope I hear from you guys soon.

-Sokka

_____________________________________________

Sokka had just dropped off his letters when he decided it was a good time to harass Zuko at work. He came into the Jasmine Dragon with a bounce to his step spotting Zuko immediately serving some customers. He grabbed the same small table near the kitchen and sat himself down. Rummaging through his bag did he find one on 'Dangers of Enchantments' Sokka was starting to think he should rule out enchantments since most had apparent side effects which he couldn't seem to find or sense, enchantments also needed to be kept up and if not he would have reverted back by now. He decided it was best to cross that one off.

"You like magic?" Zuko asked when he came up to her table finally. He noticed Miyuki with another book in her hands, her books seem to be all about magic so far.

Sokka smiled up to Zuko, "Actually I hate magic. I think it's illogical, impractical, it's dangerous and quite frankly I don't understand people's obsession with it." He stared up at the fire bender completely exasperated.

Zuko couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, it's funny seeing Miyuki looking so irked by the subject of magic.

"I don't understand it myself but my uncle loves talking about it and bringing it up often. He loves saying magic is in everything." Zuko couldn't help revealing, it was nice opening up to someone even if he still had to lie about who he really was. He never got to open up to anyone not even his uncle when he tried to and he didn't have his mother anymore, and it was never an option to tell his father or Azula, any sign of weakness would be exploited by them he thought depressingly.

"I think me and your uncle would have interesting debates on the matter." Sokka supplied, he didn't know much about Zuko's uncle except that Toph likes him but he'll still keep his suspicions just like with his nephew. "Anyways will you be taking a break soon?" He spoke hoping to get more time with the fire prince.

"Oh, uh my breaks in twenty minutes. " Zuko was surprised that Miyuki wanted to talk with him more. He didn't know what to expect from this girl but he knows he's enjoying it.

"Perfect, enough time for me to order and wait for you." Sokka said sweetly to Zuko.

Zuko shyly smiled back, "What would you like to order?" He waited, Zuko was curious about what Miyuki and he could talk about. He wasn't known for being quite versed at talking to ladies. So far conversations with Miyuki have been awkward but nice.

"I'll try the three berry flavored tea you guys got." He doesn't really like tea but this fruity one looks promising he figured.

"Alright, it'll just take a moment." With that saud Zuko walked back to the kitchens while Sokka went back to his reading.

"Here you go." Zuko had finally come back and settled himself across from Miyuki passing over the tea as he did so. He told his uncle that'd he take his break early and the old man just smirked and couldn't rush him out the kitchens fast enough something about, 'young love is in the air' ugh his uncle was going senile.

"Ah thanks." Sokka slipped his material's into his satchel making room for the fire prince as he sat down. Zuko seemed to have his own drink when he took the chance to look at him properly, he noticed the other boy seemed nervous and quiet so looks like he'll have to start the conversation.

" So what books do you read when you have the time?" Sokka asked.

"Boring stuff." Zuko didn't want to admit how he only read books on war strategies, weaponry materials and maps mostly. He didn't really know how to talk well with other teens his age but he knew talking about war strategies and the stuff alike weren't fun topics to discuss.

" Boring stuff as in..?" Sokka wasn't gonna let this go, he needed information from this guy. It seems like he has to pull teeth just to get this jerk bender to open up.

Zuko could only sigh seeing no way to avoid it if he wanted to talk to the water tribe girl. 'just hope she doesn't find me dull and annoying like my sister and her friends do. It's not my fault I never got to make any friends'

"I read up on some weaponry guides mainly on dual broadswords..uh lots of maps and very rarely on occasion a bedtime book that I kept from my mother."

Sokka didn't know how to take Zuko's somber expression mentioning his mother. He knew exactly how hard it was losing a parent but was it okay to comfort the person he despises? Sokka thought it was best to offer some bit of comforting. He leaned forward and reached out his hand to grab Zuko's elbow and gave a squeeze.

"I'll have you know maps are my favorite things to read even though I'm not too good at reading them but maybe some time you can show me." Sokka hated to admit that he couldn't read maps too well, 'the stuff is honestly hard to understand' but he knew Zuko would be the best considering how fast he always managed to track down the gaang so fast.

Zuko couldn't help chuckling at the girl and finding comfort in her presence. Something about Miyuki made things so simple plus she didn't pressure him or get awkward about mentioning his mother or make fun of him for his lack of social skills.

"Sure. I don't mind telling you more about maps, I've got tons of them." Zuko quirked his lips into a smile, he couldn't help finding it amusing that Miyuki found maps enjoyable, she was probably just faking it so he didn't feel so embarrassed about himself. He knew his life wasn't ideal for friendships or socializing of any kind but he was getting better since deciding to let go of his obsession with getting his honor back and working the tea shop with his uncle.

"I have a few myself but alot of them aren't updated which is annoying. Since my travels to Ba Sing Se, alot of new paths weren't mentioned or even the dangers that came with choosing a path, I've gotten lost and into trouble so many times because the maps we're wrong and dumb. I swear someone needs to re-write these maps with a lot more detail oh oh and even small detours you can take that are nice relaxing spots or even good food locations and duh of course the dangers to look out for, ugh there's so much you can say and people will appreciate it, I know I would!" Sokka had to take a drink from his tea to shut himself up realizing he went on a whole unnecessary tangent.

"Why don't you write that book? You've got some really valid points there." Zuko was honestly impressed with the girl, she went from exasperated to excited with so many ideas real fast and all very good ideas actually. He never got to enjoy his travels or any detours searching for the avatar but maybe if he traveled for himself he'd get to enjoy it for once with new opportunities to discover.

"You think I should write a book? And you have no problem with that?" Sokka genuinely found himself surprised with Zuko the fire prince Zuko telling a girl, a civilian water tribe girl nonetheless to write a book with no problem, 'geez this guys got more layers than an onion' Sokka was really finding it hard to keep hating this guy.

"Yes and no?" Zuko was now confused, what was he suppose to say? He couldn't tell if she was upset or if that was a trick question."Uh..I think your ideas are great for a book...I see no problem with it?" He suggested questioningly.

"Lee, do you know how many books I found written by women from the library and bookstore I visited here? Ten total and all about cooking, fashion, crafts, mannerisms for young ladies, gardening, how to be a proper wife, events planning, dancing, proper childcare and cleaning steps. Sadly I myself never noticed the lack of books by women. And I've met tons of women with great ideas and adventures of their own throughout my travels who could write the most amazing things."

"Oh, I never noticed that either. Maybe you should you try your hand at it and who knows it might just inspire other women to do the same." Zuko suggested. When he really thought about it, it really was unfair that women still didn't get many opportunities as men do solely based on their gender. He's met women who were quite tough and challenging yet they still had no voice or real power when it came to a man usurping them, all it would take was a man's words to completely debase a woman.

"I-huh..well thanks for the support." Good to know Zuko was somewhat of a decent guy but it still doesn't excuse his behavior towards the gaang. Zuko seemed to be to putting on a good act here in Ba Sing Se but how far did that really go? Sokka knew he needed to find out Zuko's motives and fast.

"Tell me more about yourself, I've been talking here the most." Sokka encouraged the other boy.

"Well I meditate, train and work." Ugh, how pathetic did he sound? He now felt even more hopeless in front of Miyuki. He just sat there hanging his head low gripping onto his drink praying to Agni that his embarrassment passed over soon.

"Well sounds like you need to get out more. How about we go to a poetry session that I know of? We can laugh at all the bad ones they come up with and cry over the good ones, I'm emotional I'll have you know but really I find it quite fun and enjoyable." This was the perfect opportunity for him to keep Zuko by his side and maybe keep him distracted from bumbing into his sister and friends.

Zuko couldn't help keep the surprise from his face, he's never been invited to hangout before and Azula forcing him out with her friends didn't count. Someone wanting to spend time in his company for a long period of time no matter how boring and embarrassing he was was a nice feeling.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great, I'll hear out for the next poetry session and come visit you with the plan."

"Alright and my breaks up, I'll have to get back to work. See you tomorrow?" Zuko hoped he didn't sound to desperate to see her again, it was nice having a friend? It was probably too soon to say that but maybe they could be.

"I can come by tomorrow after my errands. Thanks for the drink." Sokka had gotten his pouch out and handed Zuko change. Sokka couldn't help noticing Zuko's crazy warm hands, 'huh, must be a fire bender thing' he thought.

Zuko felt as Miyuki put the cold change in his hand and couldn't help look at the beautiful contrast their skins made, his a pale white to her beautiful dark brown. He had to shake his thoughts from imagining their hands entwined and smiled at Miyuki before heading to his uncle in the kitchens to help with the next orders.

Sokka left as soon as he saw Zuko go back into the kitchens. He had a big day tomorrow so it left him a nice chance to prepare early and plan things for tomorrow.

[goodbyejuly]

[Vigilante!Seulgi] PT1

Warning: Violence, Language, Kidnapping

Genre: Angst, AU!

Kang Seulgi is the best girlfriend you could have ever asked for

She's kind, cute, a amazing dancer, and a talented artist

In fact, she has a whole sketchbook filled with drawings of you

There's just one issue you have with her

Her constant habit of staying out late

You've talked to her about it multiple times and she always says the same thing

"I went to work out. It takes my mind off things"

And you do believe her since her body is so toned there's no way she's not working out

You just hate how tired she looks in the morning after her workouts

"Seulgi, baby, maybe you should just stay in for the night. I know what working out does for you but you shouldn't over work your body" you says as you try to pull her back in bed

When you touch her hand she hisses and pulls it back slightly you look down at your lovers hands you let out a loud gasp

Her knuckles are covered in dark bruises

Before you can ask her what happened the TV cuts you off with a flash news report

"Good evening everyone" the news anchor starts "We have recently been informed that 5 men involved in underground dog fighting have been found beaten and tied to poles outside of a police station. When one man was asked about how they ended up there he told police that a woman wearing all black had beaten the 5 men with her bare hands and threatened to beat them again if they did not tell the police of their crimes. When he was asked about the appearance of the woman he said he couldn't see because she was wearing a mask that looked like a black bear."

You were extremely shocked by this

One girl took down 5 men like it was nothing

When you look up at Seulgi you see her give a small smile at the mugshots of the criminals

"Police say they still don't know all of the motives the girl may have and that she is very dangerous, so, police advise making safe choices while going out at night. If you have any knowledge on this situation the police encourage you to contact them immediately. Again, It is be-"

Before the news anchor can finish her sentence, Seulgi changes the channel and kisses you on the cheek

"I'm going to the gym" she says while picking up her duffel bag "Stay safe, we don't know if this vigilante girl's trouble. I love you, Y/N"

That's weird, you think, why is she worrying about me when she's the one leaving?

You again try to ask her a question but Seulgi's already out the door before you can say a single word

As time goes by you can't stop thinking about the 'vigilante' girl from the news

And you try you hardest to not worry about Seulgi, she's stayed out late before and always made it back in one piece

But you fear she'll run into the girl and become her next victim

You know Seulgi's strong but you don't think she can compete with a girl that can beat down 5 full grown men to a pulp

Having enough of your wild thoughts, you decided to call Seulgi's phone only to met with her voicemail several times

"Great, she leaves this late and doesn't even answer her phone" you sigh to yourself, having only one other option

Go find the girl yourself

You quickly get dressed and head out to search for your ditzy girlfriend

After a few minutes of walking you hear panicked breathing and hurried footsteps from behind you

When you turn around, a man, bleeding from his forehead, grabs you by the shoulders and tries to catch his breath

"Help me, please!" he begs. He shakes you causing you to panic

You start to panic even more when you see two other men run towards you in the same state as the first

"She's coming!" they say before running past you

Unsure of what to do you run with them

Whatevers coming after them probably won't treat you any differently

You turn around to catch a glimpse of what you're running from

And then you see it

You see her

The girl that beat up 5 men for dog fighting and threw them to the police like it was nothing was running so fast in your direction

"Fuck" is the only thing that you can say as you feel her get closer and closer to you

Tears start blocking your vision and you prepare for the worst only to have the girl run past you and jump on top of one of the men, bringing him down to the concrete

Out of panic and confusion you hide in a alley as the girl ruthlessly beats all three men

Only a minute passes and the only audible sound is the three men groaning in pain

You pray that the girl forgets about you and just does what she needs to do to the men

But, your prayers are soon denied as you hear the girl's footsteps get closer to your hiding spot

You try your best to curl up and hush your crying so the girl doesn't see you but she kneels in front of you, helps you up and tells you in a stern voice to go home

You don't give any second thoughts or objections to the masked girl and you run off to your house and when you get home you don't even think about sleeping

You wait for Seulgi to come home so you can tell her about everything that had happened

When Seulgi comes home a few hours later she looks pissed off, but that doesn't stop you from telling her what you had gone through

"Why would you leave knowing what was out there? I even told you to stay safe and you decided to ignore all of that!" she practically yells as she paces back and forth in your living room

"I did it because I was worried about you! I couldn't stop thinking about what you would do if something happened. You wouldn't answer your phone either!"

She softens up when she sees the worry in your eyes and opens up her arms to hug you

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just don't want you putting yourself in danger for me" she whispers "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you ,Y/N"

You stay in each other's arms for a few minutes, basking in the familiar warmth the hug gives

When you pull away, you see her knuckles have split open and are slightly bleeding

"Oh my god, Seulgi! What are you doing to your hands?" you say while leaving to find the first-aid kit you have

Seulgi whispers a soft 'shit' before going back to her soft, ditzy attitude

"Oh, guess I'm punching the punching bag to hard" she nervously giggles

You tend to her hands in silence apologizing every now and then when she winces from the pain

As much as you trust your girlfriend you knew she was lying

There were too many things point to her doing way more that punching a gym bag

But, you say nothing and continue to aid to her knuckles

When you finished, she held your hands and gently kisses both

"Thank you, honey. We should sleep now, it's late and I know you're tired" she says while trying to pull you into your bedroom

You get in without hesitation and cuddle up to her but you still feel uneasy even in your girlfriend's arms

And it wasn't because of your incident earlier

It was because tonight was the first time in your years of dating Seulgi that you 100% knew she was lying

And it scared you

You always trusted Seulgi and knew that she would never lie to you

But knowing that the story of her wounds is a complete lie, you fear that the truth must be awful if Seulgi wants to keep it from you

Turning to face your now sleeping girlfriend, you place a quick kiss to her forehead before closing your eyes trying to clear your mind of any intrusive thoughts

When you wake up you notice Seulgi sitting up in bed facing you with her art journal

"Please don't move. I'm trying to draw you" she says with a soft voice

You were kinda used to this, Seulgi loved to draw especially if she got to draw you

But, she's never drawn you while you were sleeping so it was a little weird but still endearing

"Drawing me while I'm sleeping? A little weird don't you think babe?" you joke

"Hey, talking causes movement, love. Plus, you're adorable when you sleep"

You stay still until she puts down her pencil and shows you her work

"Woah, you're so talented" you say in awe

"And you're so beautiful. I'm gonna go take a shower, I forgot to last night"

"Yeah, you should. I love you but you really smell" but all Seulgi could do was smirk at your comment

"Aw, don't say that you really hurt my feelings" she pouts "Gimme a kiss"

When you playfully shake your head no, Seulgi lunges for you

"Ah, no stop!" you giggle as she continues to litters your face with small pecks

"I just wanna kiss my baby!" she says while struggling to place one finally kiss on you lips

"You can kiss me when you're out of the shower, smelly" you tease, still trying to stop her overflow of kisses

She pouts once again and finally gives up before getting out of bed

"Fine, but when I'm done I expect one out of this world kiss"

"You can have infinite kisses when you're done" you say with a wink before your girlfriend heads to the bathroom

While waiting for her to finish, you hear her phone go off in her gym bag

Deciding to find it so you could give it to her, you begin to start looking through her bag for it

But your search was soon put on hold when you see a black journal stuffed in there

Your first thought was that it was just another one if her many art journals but Seulgi's never had a plain black journal

There were no stickers, doodles, and her name was no where on the outside

Even though you knew it wasn't good to look through your partner's stuff, your curiosity took control and you opened up the journal

You stunned to see a drawing of a random person you'd never seen

But it wasn't a normal drawing, it looked like a wanted poster

The drawing of the person looked so intimidating and it was accompanied by information like height and the places they could be found at

But the part that scared you the most was the section titled: Crime

Shocked by the page you decide to flip through the whole journal in hopes of finding a different image but you are only met with similar ones

Murder, Robbery, Abuse

Your shoulders sink as you see the crimes in this book

You also notice how some of these images have huge red X's drawn on top of them

If you weren't already scared and confused, the next thing you saw definitely changed that

You see drawings of the 5 men found outside of the police station. Each one having a huge red X drawn on top of them

Then, to add to the already horrifying discovery, you see the 3 men from last night

The 3 men that were beat senseless by the vigilante girl. Each one decorated with a huge, red, X

"Oh my god" you whisper, trapped in a frozen state, unsure of what to do

You look back into Seulgi's gym bag unable to believe this was in her possession

As you search through her bag looking for any possible explanation you finally see it

A black bear mask

The same from last night

"Alright love, I'm ready for my kis-"

You turn to face her and are met with a face of sheer panic

"I-I uh..." she struggles to say anything as she continues to look at your scared face

"Please, don't call the police" she softly begs

She looks like she might cry and you see her nervously fiddle with her fingers

"I won't, I promise. I just want to know what's going on"

Your soft tone calms her down and it especially helps when you hold your hand out for her to hold

She takes it and sits next to you before begins to tell you everything

"I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't want you to get more involved than you already were. It's already dangerous that your dating me and I just thought if you were aware of my secret it would just make things worse for you" she says, sadness obvious in her voice

"Baby, I understand why you would be worried about me but, you need to tell me these things. I'm here for you, always"

Your words give her comfort but she is still hesitant

"I understand if you don't wanna be with me anymore. What I do isn't safe and I don't want anything to happen to you. It's r-"

"Are you kidding" you interrupt "You're the city's badass hero and I have the privilege to date you. Oh my God, I could be your sidekick!" you say with excitement

She giggles, feeling much better because of your words

"As cool as that would be, I would much rather you be my girlfriend"

"Suit yourself, I would make a great sidekick though."

You stare at her for a moment, just admiring her beauty

"I love you. And I always will, no matter what dangers your 'hobby' brings, I'll always stay by your side" you say staring into her eyes. Wanting her to see that you truly mean it

"Thank you. I love you too, more than anything"

"You know I never gave you that kiss you wanted" you say with a smirk

"Yeah, you know you should always keep your promises, love" she says before leaning in to kiss you

Sure, you and Seulgi did have plans to go out today but you figure it would be better for the two of you to stay in

After hours of laying together and talking you finally look at time and realize just how long you two had stayed in bed

"Oh my God, Seulgi it's almost 9 o'clock. We've been in bed all day!" you say. It was quite surprising to see that you've spent almost the entire in bed

"Let's keep it like that. This is nice" she says while still trying to cuddle you

"Hey, don't you have some vigilante stuff to be doing?"

"It can wait, I wanna spend my time with you"

As she buries her face in your chest you can't help but feel a little bit of guilt

"No. There are people that need help, bad guys that need their ass kicked. All of that's done by you. I can't let you pick me over them"

When you finish talking she looks up at you, searching your face for any emotion she can grasp

"Are you sure? I know what I do is important but you'll always be the most important person in my life. I don't want you to feel like y-"

"It's ok, Seulgi" you interrupt "People need you now, I can always have you later" you say with a soft smile

Seulgi pouts but nods and starts to get up

"Alright. I'll go save the day, again. Promise you won't come and look for me this time."

You stick out your pinkie with a smile

"I promise"

She interlocks her pinkie with yours and gives you one final kiss before grabbing her bag and leaving

While Seulgi's gone, you pass time by aimlessly scrolling through your phone

After a hour of doing nothing, you hear a soft knock on your door

Thinking it's just Seulgi knocking since she probably forgot her keys (again)

But when you open your door, you're met with nobody

Only a pink box accompanied by a small tag with the words 'To the lovely Y/N'

Taking the box inside, you begin to open it

Opening that box was one of the worst things that you've ever seen

You're met with a picture of you and Seulgi in your apartment

Taken from the outside your apartment

You continue to look through the box, only to be met with more pictures

You've been so oblivious

Thinking you were completely fine when you've been watched for over a month

Finally, when you reach the bottom you see a note

Hoping it had some explanation you quickly read it

Being the city's vigilante girl is pretty time consuming.

I wonder if she has enough time to protect you?

~Draco

You could barely move

You wanted to cry

Someone knew Seulgi's secret

You quickly ran back to your bedroom, grabbed your phone to call Seulgi

You prayed Seulgi would answer quickly

"Hi baby! I'm almost home so you d-"

"Somebody named Draco knows about your secret and I think they're coming after me!"

The slight pause from Seulgi's line only fills you with more fear

"Get out of the house. Go somewhere where there are a lot of people, I-I don't care just don't stay in house!"

Before you can utter out a response you hear glass breaking from your living room

"Seulgi I have to go I think someone just broke into our house!" you say before hanging up

Knowing it would be impossible to leave, you hide in your closet

While hiding, you hear the faint footsteps of the intruder in your kitchen

Your phone vibrates as you receive a text from your girlfriend

From:My bby💖💖- I'm almost there, I promise you'll be safe

You look around for something to defend yourself with

No matter what happens, you refuse to go down without a fight

Deciding one of Seulgi's heels is your best bet, you grab it and prepare for the worst

You hear the footsteps enter your bedroom and you hold your breath

You feel tears burning in your eyes but you continue to stay ready

Suddenly, the closet door flies open

You swing the heel into your intruder's face, causing him to fall to the ground with cries of pain

You push yourself off the floor and make a run for it

Your short escape was quickly put to a halt as you're met with 5 other men just like the first

You can barely think as all the men run towards you

You try your best to fight back but they still manage to pin you to the floor

"Well, well. Draco will be very happy to see that got our target. And, must I say, you somehow manage to be even prettier than you pictures" one man says while trying to caress your face

Disgusted by his actions, you turn towards his hand and try to bite it

"Oh!" he says with a smirk "That's cute, I like em' feisty"

"Fuck off" you spit out

You wish you could express your anger in more violent ways, but because of your current position that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon

Just as the man opens his mouth to respond, the man from before enters the room covering his right eye with his hand

"Woah, what happened to you?" one of the men questions

"This bitch hit me in the eye with a heel!"

You can see the anger radiating off of him, but all you can is smirk at his state

"You little-"

He raises his foot to kick you but is quickly punched and shoved to the ground

"Look, we promised Draco we would get them back unharmed. So until Draco's command, you don't lay a finger on them. Understand?"

As the two men continue to argue, you notice something about all 6 men

All of them have a Cerberus tattooed to their forearm

"Alright, tie em up, we gotta hurry before that bitch gets here. Hold still for us sweetheart~" one of the men coos as they bring a rope your way

You squirm but it is futile as they tie you up and carry you to a black van parked in front of your apartment

As you ride in the van, you take the time to memorize the features of your kidnappers

You want to remember who did this to you

After a hour of so of driving, you come to a stop

"Alright angel, I hope you're ready to meet Draco. They've been dying to finally meet you"

4 men leave the car while the other 2 carry you inside what looked like a regular building

But of course this wouldn't be a normal building. You already no that from your situation

You just pray that whatevers in that building won't be too bad

Inside is a woman, all by her self

The men place you on a chair and walk to the back of the room, watching

"No, no, there's no need to stay here. I wanna talk to them. Privately" she speaks

Her voice matches her appearance perfectly

Sultry with a slight hint of danger

Just as the men begin to leave, she stops them once again

"Oh, before you go, please untie our guest, I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must be"

A quiet 'yes ma'am' is uttered from the 6 men as one comes to untie you

While you're getting untied, you look at your surroundings

Everything is black and gold

If you weren't being kidnapped right now you'd actually be enjoying the scenery

You soon notice the 3 statues of dogs right under a huge painting of Hades with his Cerberus

"I see you noticed my painting" the woman started "It's one of my favorites. I just find it so fascinating how even the God of the underworld can have such a loyal companion. A powerful duo that can make Gods quiver"

You're not quite sure how to react

One second you're being shoved into a van and now you're getting a lesson on Greek Gods?

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Draco. It's a pleasure to finally meet you Y/N. And might I say, you're pictures don't do you enough justice"

She gives you a big smile, one that causes her eyes to smile as well

But you don't let her nature fool you

"What do you want with Seulgi? I know you have no interest in me so quit the bullshit and tell what you want"

Draco giggles

A giggle that soon turns in to a hysterical laugh

Suddenly, she slams her hands on table in front of you and her whole demeanor changes

"You know, I tried to make this some what decent for you but since you can't appreciate it I tell you. I am the Kingpin of this city. Almost every criminal you know works for me. But a little issue started to arise. You see some of my people started ending up in jail. Some drug dealers, dog fighters, and my best men had a new home in a cell. And, you know who's responsible for that don't you, Y/N?"

It was a rhetorical question buy you still nodded hesitantly

"Good, you're as smart as you are cute" she says, smirking "I am Hades. I am the God of this city's underworld. But you're little Seulgi want's to be Hercules and try to stop me. But I won't let her"

"And if you're really smart..."

You gasp as she pulls out a gun and points it straight to your head

"You won't let her either"

To be continued...

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 ||

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 1: Agathokakological

Word Count: 2032

Read on AO3

It was the final day of school, and lines of students filed in to Grant High School. Finals were taken, projects were on display, and most teachers had left for the summer, save for Principal Metcalf. All the students were gathered into the auditorium, where they’d be given their schedules for next year.

“I really hope I’m in American literature,” Andi remarked, swinging her empty backpack over her shoulders.

“You’re gonna fill that backpack with books if you take that class,” Amber piped up, “I took that class last year and I almost regretted it,”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ambs,” Andi sighed, poking her shoulder playfully as they continued down the hall, “any classes you’re looking forward to, Cy?”

Cyrus barely registered that someone had said his name. He was too busy praying under his breath that he would get put into journalism class. He’d been looking forward to it since freshman year, and now that he was a junior, it was finally an option.

“Penny for your thoughts, Underdog?” TJ came up beside him, effectively startling him out of this thoughts, “you look like Mr. Rehsif when he’s grading someone’s work,”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Cyrus rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose, “I’m just hoping I get put in journalism,”

“That lame-ass class taught by Mrs. Lorac?” TJ scoffed, before biting his tongue, “I mean, uh, that class just isn’t my style,”

Cyrus scowled, rounding the corner with the herd of students, and filing into the auditorium. “What are you talking about? You’re a great writer, I’ve seen some of your work,” he gushed, rushing to take his seat in the very front.

TJ shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the inevitable blush forming in his cheeks. He made his way back to a free seat behind Cyrus, mumbling the occasional ‘excuse me’ to crawl over people’s legs.

“Good morning everyone,” Principal Metcalf spoke into the microphone, garnering the attention of the students as well as a disinterested ‘morning’ groan, “let’s try that again, good morning everyone,”

“Morning,” the students repeated with fake enthusiasm. TJ tapped Cyrus on the shoulder, rolling his eyes when he met his gaze.

“Oh hush, you,” Cyrus whispered, sticking his tongue out and turning his attention to their principal.

“Welcome everyone, it’s great to see you all here. I’m going to keep this brief,” he started, a few of the students snickering at that, “we have your schedules for next year. They’re in alphabetical order, so please take the top one and pass the pile on. Now, when you get the paper, please make sure to--”

The microphone squealed, causing most of the student body to cover their ears, while Principal Metcalf called over someone to help him figure out how to rework it. Papers rustled in the air, and coupled with either groans of frustration or cheers of happiness, it was a bit chaotic.

“Yes!” Cyrus exclaimed, turning to TJ with an expression of unimaginable joy, “I’m in journalism!”

At that, TJ perked up. He’d been placed in journalism too, but at least he knew that Cyrus would be suffering, err, taking that class too. “Me too,” he replied, trying his best to shout over the cacophony of voices in the auditorium.

“I can’t believe I got put in environmental studies,” Amber huffed, looking at her paper with a frown, “but at least I’m in journalism with you dorks,” she commented, glancing at TJ with a knowing look.

“Andi are you in environmental studies?” TJ asked with a smirk, his gaze never once leaving Amber’s face. Her face morphed into one of frustration, and TJ broke the gaze, crossing his legs with a confident smile.

“Um. . .yeah, I do! Hey, we’re going to be in the same class,” Andi called to Amber from a few seats down, waving her paper enthusiastically.

“Okay, students, please be quiet for a moment so we can dismiss you for the tours,” their principal yelled, the microphone abandoned. He gave a few whistles, and eventually the student body calmed down.

“You will all be spending about ten minutes in each class, collecting your summer materials and assignments. Once you have everything, you are free to go. Have a safe summer!” Like dogs to a feeding bell, kids stampeded out of the doors, each rushing to their first classes.

“What class do you have first, TJ?” Cyrus asked, peering over at the other boy’s schedule, “Oh, physics. What a fun way to start off your mornings,” the shorter boy joked.

TJ sighed, folding his schedule in half and putting it in his back pocket. “Junior year is gonna start with a bang,” he muttered, “I’ll see you last period though. Journalism, right?”

Cyrus nodded, giving him a small wave before turning the corner. This year was going to be fun, right? Starting his morning off calculus, with French second to last, and then having journalism last period? Oh, this was going to be fun.

TJ left Algebra with a packet in hand and a frown on his face. There was absolutely no way that he was going to be able to finish this by the end of the summer. Heck, he probably couldn’t finish it by the end of the year. Clutching the papers tightly, he rounded the corner and made his way down to room 143. There were a few familiar faces in there, like Jonah, Andi, and even Walker, who transferred to their school last year. He took a seat at one of the tables without someone next to him, keeping an eye on the door to keep an eye out for Cyrus.

“Alright, everyone, please pay attention,” Mrs. Lorac began, walking over and shutting the door with a gentle click, “welcome to journalism class, I hope you’re all excited for this course. . .”

TJ stopped paying attention to her introduction, instead opting for pulling out his schedule from his back pocket and smoothing it out on the table. Had Cyrus tried to drop the class? No, he couldn’t have; he’d already said that it was his favorite, he wouldn’t have dropped it. Maybe there was another class meeting during this time, or maybe-

“Sorry I’m late!” Cyrus burst through the door, his folder of papers spilling all over the floor, “I got lost on my was here and then I tried to ask for help but I couldn’t find anyone and-”

“Just take a seat, Cyrus,” Mrs. Lorac sighed, exasperated, “there’s a free seat by TJ, you can sit there. We were just talking about you summer assignment. I’m sure Mr. Kippen can fill you in,”

Cyrus nodded meekly, shuffling awkwardly to the seat by TJ and dumping all of his papers on the table. “What’s the assignment?” he whispered, neatly sorting through all his French papers and sliding them pack in his folder.

TJ shrugged, drumming his fingers on the table nonchalantly. “Something about a journal, I think,” he mumbled, earning a playful shove from Cyrus.

“You weren’t paying attention?” he whisper-yelled, his eyes looking like they were going to bulge out of his head, “how are we going to know what to d-”

“Cyrus, TJ, please pay attention,” Mrs Laroc scolded, reaching for a small stack of papers from her desk, “if you’ve forgotten what to do,” she started, glancing at Cyrus and TJ with a scowl, “this will help you remember. Make sure you follow the directions,”

Cyrus felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment when he took the paper, reading it over and over to make sure he knew exactly what to do. It read:

Keep a journal over the summer, writing about the events of each day. You don’t need to do it daily, but please do it for at least a week. If you can include pictures, great, if not, that’s fine. You will be working in partners, to make sure that you both actually do the assignment. You will have separate journals. Make sure to note the date for each entry.

“Mr. Goodman, I assume you and Mr. Kippen will be working together?” Mrs. Lorac eyed them, lowering her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Cyrus could feel the eyes of each of his classmates on him, and he ducked his head to try and hide from all the stares. TJ, being the apparent ever-confident jock, slung an arm around him and pulled him slightly closer.

“Yup,” he announced, popping the ‘p’, and flashing his signature grin at Mrs. Lorac, “we’re gonna be the best pair, Mrs. L,”

The teacher blinked once. Twice. Shaking her head, she slid through a row of students to help someone who raised their hand.

“You actually think we’re going to be the best pair?” Cyrus asked, glancing over the paper a few more times, and writing his name on the top. TJ noted that Cyrus’ handwriting was very pretty, and much neater than his own. Mrs. Lorac was going to have a fun time trying to read his journal.

“Of course I do, Underdog,” TJ promised, slipping his arm from Cyrus’ shoulders after deciding that he kept it there a bit too long, “we can even get together after this is over and plan out a few things,”

Cyrus nodded, folding his paper in neat squares and slipping it into one of his folders that he’d accumulated during the day. “Outside by the picnic tables near the oak tree?” he suggested, and TJ smiled in agreement.

“You’re all dismissed. Have a wonderful summer! And make sure you grab a journal on the way out!” she called out as the students filed out.

“So,” TJ pulled up beside Cyrus, “what do you have planned for these activities? Going to parties? Dirtbiking? Stealing candy?”

Cyrus scoffed, pushing open the door to the outside and waiting for TJ to follow. “After the events of middle school? No thank you,” he insisted, taking a seat at the picnic bench and putting his notebook on the table.

“Okay,” TJ hummed, drumming his fingers, “how about then. . .”

“Hey guys!” Jonah yelled from across the yard, running towards them with a paper in hand, “hey so,” he spat out, taking a second to catch his breath, “. . .so there’s an art show tomorrow and Walker’s art is gonna be in it and,” he paused, for another breath, “I was hoping you guys could come. It’d be important for him,”

TJ and Cyrus exchanged looks, peering at the paper that Jonah gave them. “What a supportive boyfriend you are,” TJ joked, watching Jonah heat up like a flame.

“Wh-uhm, we’re, uh, we’re not. . .” Jonah fumbled, getting more flustered by the moment.

“Not yet, at least,” TJ commented, which only made Jonah turn redder, “what do you say Cyrus? First journal of the summer?”

Cyrus pretended to think it over before breaking out into a smile and nodding. “Totally! We’ll be there,”

“Cool,” Jonah mumbled, pivoting on his heel and walking away with a shake of his head.

“He’s totally smitten for Walker,” TJ noted, watching him leave.

“Wow, you can go from tough guy to softie real quick, huh,” Cyrus joked, “from ‘let’s steal things’ to ‘Jonah’s in love with Walker’,” he mocked playfully.

TJ rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered, “so art show tomorrow? I’ll see you there,”

“See ya,” Cyrus waved, lingering for a moment on TJ as he walked before he turned back to his journal. He turned to the last page of the journal and wrote ‘WORDS’ at the top. There was a certain word to describe TJ, and it was on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of it. So, he pulled out his phone and started typing.

someone that is both good and bad

After a few seconds he found the word that he’d been thinking of. He knew that word, why hadn’t he thought of it on his own. On the first line of that last page in his journal, he wrote ‘agathokakological’. He chuckled, thinking of what TJ would say if he pulled that word out in a conversation. Smiling to himself, Cyrus scooped up his schoolwork and started his walk home.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch 

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God- Chapter 4

***Sometimes staying away is the easiest move. Keeping a safe distance, especially for Emerson and Dean Winchester. So, when the Maklen twins come home again, they don’t anticipate the feelings that Emerson will get having to see him again. When tragedy strikes, the Winchester brothers and the Maklen twins are forced to face, not only their feelings, but each other. In a story about pain, family, abandonment, and desire, the couples have to decide if survival, without love, is enough.***

Warnings: Angst, violence, death, mutual pinning, age difference, language

Chapter Four

“I manage a smile the first time I see him, and it feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told. So I hold my breath cause I’m thinking any minute now he’s gonna call me on it.” - Shane Koyczan

-9 Hours After-

The Earth was quiet. It was almost eerie, alien. The Winchester brothers stepped off the boat first on to the dock. They wanted to test it to make sure it was sound, so the girl’s wouldn’t fall into the ocean. Pieces were broken from when the earth shook. The dock splintered, as if it’d been hit by an angry fist. Sam lifted Pheli off the boat, effortlessly, pulling her against his chest. “You look cute.” He whispered to her through his surgical mask. She hit his chest playfully in response.

Dean offered a rubber gloved hand to Emerson. She could see the crinkles around his eyes from where he was grinning widely under his mask, but there was something else. His pupils were dilated and his eyebrows seemed locked in position. He was afraid.

Emerson rested her gloved hand in Deans and let him pull her up onto the dock. “Where are we going?” She asked him quietly.

“I have some supplies at the house, then I thought we could check the hospital and see about your mom.”

Pheli turned at that and met Emerson’s eyes. Their mother. They were going to let her go. It was already decided. What was the likelihood that she was still alive strapped to the machine that was breathing for her? What was the likelihood that anyone survived? In the wake of the explosion, would it even be safe to travel downtown to find out?

Dean squeezed Emersons hand. She hadn’t noticed that she was gripping his fingers for dear life. She didn’t want to need his support, but he was strong, and his hand was warm within hers. “Come on.” He said. “Let’s get to the car, it’s not safe to be out here even with the precautions.”

She pulled her hand from his and adjusted her hat, even though her skin was still covered. She could feel the heat from the sun baking down on them, and her skin was starting to sweat under the rain jacket.

“I feel like a baked potato.” Pheli complained as Sam zipped her jacked up to her chin.

“Better safe than sorry.” He said, poking her nose through the mask.

Ophelia was meant for drama, and Emerson had always thought that. Growing up, Pheli was always dressing up, and doing performances for the family. She would sit her sister and their mother down and do a dramatic reenactment, or a song and dance. The older she got, the more drama was involved in their regular life. She would cry over boys, and romanticize the smallest moments.

She wasn’t being dramatic then, though. Emerson felt that the baked potato metaphor was unsettlingly fitting. The ground seemed to be steaming; most of the red rain was gone from the ground, evaporated into blood red clouds that floated threateningly above them.

“Thank God.” Dean whispered as the four reached the car. “My baby is okay.” He ran his fingers along the car with a relieved smile.

Emerson rolled her eyes as he unlocked the car. Her vision was fuzzy along the edges. “Dean I’m not sure these masks are working.” She exhaled slowly, eyeing Pheli as Sam helped her into the car. “You feeling okay?”

“A little woozy.” She admitted.

“Me, too.”

“Alright, lets book it.” Dean said quickly, sliding into the driver’s seat.

The sisters laced their fingers together in the backseat. Emerson rubbed small circles on the back of Pheli’s hand. Their eyes flickered out the window as they watched the town they grew up in fly by in a blur of color. “Oh my god.” Pheli whispered, her hand going to her mouth.

Everything looked like it’d been picked up and shook. Buildings had collapsed, some still on fire. The flames licked up toward to the sky. Cars had crashed into each other, causing Dean to slow the Impala for fear of a collision. Bodies were lying in the street. “Christ.” Dean whispered. His back was tense under his flannel. Emerson wanted to reach out and touch him, but she refrained. It wasn’t their way, after all. “Fuck.” He stopped the car.

“What?”  Emerson asked, scooting into the middle seat so she could get a view of the street. There was a large light pole that had fallen in the road. There was no way around. “Shit.”

“Fuck!” Dean shouted, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. “We are going to have to walk.” There was oil in the street from the car wrecks. Fire. It was dangerous to stay, but they had no idea if they would survive the walk back to the houses. The girls were already feeling a light headed from the toxin in the air, and they’d barely been outside.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Sam promised, his hand on Pheli’s thigh. He was reaching around from the front seat.

She nodded. She believed him. She didn’t have any other choice.

“Dean, the gas…”

“I know.” He said sharply before letting out a sigh. “I have supplies at the house. All Dad’s old military shit. I think he may have some masks. We just have to get there.” He turned, meeting Emerson’s eyes. “We will have to hustle.” He turned to Phel. “Can you do that?”

Both girls nodded. They knew the only answer was yes. They had to move, or they would die, and the latter wasn’t an option. It couldn’t be.

-7 Years Before-

“What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Dean leaned against the doorway wearing a black button up lazily tucked into a pair of slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and a cigarette was in between his teeth. He held a single rose in his fingers. “Homecoming, Em.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Emerson stared at him blankly. Fucking Ophelia! I’m going to kill her.

“Shit, put your murder eyes away.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“You’re too old for high school homecoming.”

“Probably right, but Sammy needs a wingman.” He offered her the rose with his best smile.

All it did was piss her off. She reached up and pulled the cigarette from his lips and broke it. “I’m not going anywhere with you if you have cigarette mouth. It’s disgusting.”

“Why do you care what my mouth tastes like?” He taunted with a smirk, clearly loving getting a reaction out of her.

“I don’t care.” She snapped before turning to walk back inside.

“So, you gonna change?”

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to him. She was wearing a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. She was so distracted by him showing up that she didn’t even realize. “No. I’m not going to homecoming.”

“Yes you are!” Pheli said from the top of the stairs.

“Oh I don’t want to hear it from you!” Emerson snapped at her sister who quickly disappeared back into her bedroom.  She turned on her heels and her chest brushed against Dean’s.  

“I don’t want to go either, by the way.” He said quietly.

“Cool.” She said. She didn’t back away from him. “So why are you trying to go?”

He shrugged. “I put on a shirt.”

“Right.” Emerson snorted.

“Just come with me, Em.”

“Why should I, Dean?”

“Because you want to.” He said sheepishly with a mischievous grin.

“I don’t.”

“You’re a liar.” He grinned widely. “Fine. Come because it’ll be fun. We can watch Sammy and Ophelia be all squirmy and awkward. It’ll be great.”

Emerson opened her mouth to argue more, but she pressed it shut. She knew she should go to be there for her sister. It was her first date with Sam. Her eyes met Deans green ones. He was grinning. He already knew he won. “Fine, but this isn’t a date. We are going for our siblings.”

“Yup. Totally.” He chucked low. “I don’t date anyway, Em.” He shrugged.

“Right.”

****

Dean was surprised by how nice Emerson cleaned up. She took a step on the top of the stairs and Ophelia cleared her throat, maybe to signal Sam to look at her, or perhaps to signal Dean to look at her sister.

He wasn’t blind, he knew Emerson was beautiful. Both Maklen sisters were often the talk of the school, and even though he was long graduated, he wouldn’t forget the look of the other seniors when the two blonde twins walked into the school on the first day of their freshman year. They were beautiful and typically attached at the hip. Sam had begged him to take Emerson to the dance.

“Please, Dean. You owe me!”

“For what, pray tell?”

“Two words: pink panties.”

“Alright, you got it. I’ll take the cranky sister to the dance.” Truth be told, he would’ve taken her anyway. She was hot and mysterious, but more than anything Sam asked him. He couldn’t say no to his brother.

“Thank you.” Sam exhaled.

“You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

“Am I that transparent?”

“Yes.” Dean laughed. “You actually are.” He grabbed his brother and ruffled his hair. “Little Sammy! Don’t forget to pack condoms.”

“What? No way!” His face was bright red and hot.

Dean laughed and let him go. “Go in with confidence, my man. It makes a world of difference.”

Sam ran his fingers through his hair to fix it. “Is that what you’re going to do with Emerson?”

The older brother shrugged and flipped his lighter in his hands. “It won’t be like that.”

“Why not? If it works with all the other girls.”

“Well first of all, she’s sixteen.” He said, flicking Sam’s forehead. “Second of all, I don’t know. She’s not like other girls.” He shrugged noncommittally.

Her hair had a subtle wave to it as it spilled down her shoulders. Her dress was simple, maroon, and strapless, showing off her smooth collarbones and flawless shoulders. It hit her mid-thigh, and for once she wore combat boots. His eyes landed on her full lips, which were painted a nude color. More than anything, though, she looked fucking annoyed.

“You look amazing.” Sam gushed at Pheli. She was wearing a pink dress that hugged her curves. It had a shimmer to it, and the straps crisscrossed across her chest. She wore a pair of silver heels that caught the light. She put a lot of work into her appearance, and Sam noticed.

“Thank you.” She blushed, red creeping up her neck. “You look handsome too.” She took his hand, and he offered her a corsage. “Wow! It’s stunning. Did you pick it out yourself?”

Dean turned to Emerson and grinned. “Wow, you clean up nice.”

“I know.” She forced a wicked grin.

“You look nice, too, Dean.” He said in a girly voice. “Wow, thanks Em. You’re a peach.”

“Was that supposed to be me?” She laughed.

“I think it was a spot on interpretation.”

“I guess.” She rolled her eyes, but took his arm when he offered it. “Okay love birds, let’s get this thing over with.”

The dance was impressive, but no one should’ve been surprised. Pheli was on the planning committee. The gymnasium at the high school was transformed by twinkle lights, and clear balloons covering the floor. Everything was low light and sparkling. It felt like they were inside of a glittering snow globe just waiting to be shaken.

“You out did yourself, kiddo.” Dean glanced at Ophelia. She smiled widely, knowing that any compliment given from him was one to cherish.

“Sam let’s go get our picture taken!” She squealed, pulling his hand. The couple disappeared into the crowd to go get a professional photograph taken.

“She’s intense.” Dean commented.

“That’s an understatement.”

He glanced at her. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“What? Like punch?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Emerson raised an eyebrow. He put a hand on her lower back to lead her through the crowd.

He got them both a glass of punch and to her surprise he didn’t pull out a flask. They walked away from the table and took a seat. She took the glass from him and eagerly and took a sip. She made a face. “This is so watered down.” She laughed.

“Yeah, I never liked dances.” He agreed with a laugh. “They always felt lame and forced.”

“Pheli loves them, and I love watching her love them. Ya know? Even if I hate them.”

“Don’t teenage girls usually love dances?”

“That’s a stereotype.” Emerson raised an eyebrow.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, guess it is.”

Emerson picked at her nails uncomfortably, and Dean couldn’t stop staring at her. The way her blonde waves fell in her face. The focus of the deep brown of her eyes. The way her bottom lip moved as she let out her breath. He pleaned in. “Okay, one time offer.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Want to dance?”

She almost spit her drink. Was Dean Winchester seriously asking her to dance? “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Going once… going twice…”

“Fuck you.” She went to fold her arms across her chest in protest, but instead he grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

She was so surprised that she was easily pulled on to the dance floor. He spun her around effortlessly, her hair whipping around her. The song was faced paced, and she was surprised by his dance moves. He wasn’t grinding against her leg, he was actually dancing. His hand was pressed to her lower back and he lead her around the dance floor. “How did you learn this?” She asked, breathlessly as he pulled her against him.

“Mom.” He said with a shrug. “She loved to dance, and Dad had two left feet.”

“You’re actually pretty good.” She laughed as he spun her out and back in again.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

“Maybe I’m not what you think I am.” He asked as he pulled her a little closer, his eyes meeting hers intensely.

Maybe he wasn’t. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that the guy next door could be more than he appeared. The song changed to a slower one and she started to pull away, but his grip tightened on her. “Just a little longer.” He murmured, and she wasn’t really sure if she was intended to hear it, not really, so she didn’t comment on it.

They swayed slowly together to the rhythm of the music. She let her body relax against him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “This doesn’t last forever.” He commented quietly.

The song? She knew that, but somehow she didn’t think that was what he meant. “What doesn’t?”

“High school.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “I know.”

“It sucked for me, too.” He laughed breathlessly. “But it really is just a blink and it’s over.”

She knew that, but there was comfort in hearing it from someone who lived through it. From someone who wasn’t like Pheli, who often cried at the thought of high school ending.

“Not everyone is Sam and Ophelia.” Dean commented, as if he could read her mind.

“That’s the truth.” She pulled away to look at him. “Why aren’t you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know... real?”

He shrugged. “When people think you’re one thing, sometimes it’s just easier to live up to it. I’d always rather be underestimated. Then you can surprise them, and you never let anyone down.”

Emerson pressed her lips together. Part of her wanted to kiss him, but then she remembered that she didn’t kiss guys like Dean Winchester. She didn’t kiss guys period. She was thinking, again, despite what she was witnessing, that he was one thing. That he was bad, but people are more complicated than that. More than anyone she should know that. “Want to get some air?” She asked him instead.

“Sure.” He shrugged, dropping her hand to walk outside.

She somehow felt empty, without having him touching her. They pushed out into the cool Autumn night. His back was pressed against the brick of the school as he pulled out a cigarette. He held it between his lips and lit it, inhaling the smoke. His eyes fluttered closed, his face relaxing.

“Why do you do that?”

He shrugged, opening a single eye to look at her. “Part of me has always known I’m going to die young. May as well help it along. Should smoke two at once.” He laughed, letting out a gray breath.

She eyed the cigarette, glowing orange in the night air. “That’s tragic, Dean. You know that, right? Life isn’t about dying. It isn’t about getting to the finish line.”

He turned his body to look at her, his expression serious. “Of course it is, Em.”

They weren’t like Sam and Ophelia. Wrapped up in bliss and possibilities. Flowers and butterfly kisses. Emerson and Dean were snark, longing looks, and inhaled smoke despite the fact that it fucking hurt. They stood in the dark behind the school, listening to the muffled pulse of music through the wall into the gymnasium. There were people that went to dances and fell in love under the twinkling lights, and then there was Dean Winchester. He wasn’t the guy to fall in love with. He was dangerous. He had bad habits and little to no respect for himself. But he also danced with his mom and looked out for his little brother, and the way he looked at Emerson through the smoke in the darkness made her question everything she knew. Maybe that’s what relationships were all about. Questions and answers.

Emerson grabbed the cigarette from him and stepped an inch away from him. “I refuse to believe that you are living just to die. What is the point? If you don’t have something to live for, Dean, it’s time to find one. You think you’re worthless, but the only thing making you worthless is you.”

His eyes flickered to the cigarette with his mouth opened. Her words hit him like a bullet to the chest. He half expected her to stomp out the burning embers, but instead she brought it to her lips and took a deep breath in, sucking the smoke into her lungs, her eyes never leaving his.

-9 Hours After-

They were running, dodging flames, cars, fallen trees, dead bodies... Emerson bent over in a coughing fit. Even through the surgical mask the air was too much. The toxin and the smell of burning flesh had almost completely blinded her. Everything was fuzzy. She had only been pulled forward by Ophelia, who was being almost drug by Sam. They jumped over a fallen woman, and Emerson released Pheli’s hand. She doubled over, coughing into her mask.

It was worse than that first cigarette. She coughed so much she almost threw up. It had lessened the impact of her statement to Dean, turns out Ophelia wasn’t the only Maklen girl who had a flare for the dramatic.

“Em!” Ophelia turned back when she felt her sister release her grasp. “Dean!”

He turned and muttered a curse under his breath. He turned on his heels and ran to Emerson, effortlessly scooping her up. His arm went under the bend of her legs and behind her back. “I got you.” He told her, holding her against his chest. “Keep going! I’ve got her!” He yelled to his brother and Pheli.  

Emerson looked up at Dean weakly. She was coughing more, her throat burning. She tasted pennies in her mouth. “Dean.” She whispered between coughs. Her lips were wet under the mask.

“You’ve got it. Just hold on a little longer, Em. We are almost there. We don’t live just to die, remember?” He asked quietly, wiping a tear from her eye. “So you aren’t dying today. I won’t fucking lose you. Not now.”

—————

Chapter Five

Get caught up!

[essiefreds]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18,  Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22

Ah, yes, the fabled return that everyone has been longing for. 

Probably gonna do a part a week, ‘cause I don’t... have a surplus, like I did when I first started writing, so... keep an eye out, I suppose. 

Word Count: 2572

Tagged: @hotemotionalmess, @justtolkienabout, @uservalkyrie, @writing-for-a-chance, @hufflepeople, @alexfayer, @guaibi

You begged to be let in on the mission. You followed Director Fury, Deputy Director Hill, and Agent Coulson around for almost a full day, just listing all kinds of reasons that you should be allowed to go, most of which revolved around your position as the liaison between Stark Industries and Steve’s liaison to the 21st century. For the most part, the pleas were heard by deaf ears, but…

Eh, that had never stopped you before, especially when Steve had asked if you were coming along. What were you supposed to say, no?

Yes, you were, apparently.

“Oh.” Steve did not look happy with the response you had given him, which had been a resounding Of course I’m coming, are you kidding?

“What?” you asked, not really knowing if you wanted to hear his answer.

He shrugged, slightly, as he poked through his dresser, finding things to pack for the trip to wherever they were going, for however long. It was a mission, after all. There could never be a set time line.

“I don’t know,” he said, and he sounded genuine. “I mean, if it were anything else, I would definitely want you to come, but… this is all going to be super dangerous.”

“And you don’t think I can take care of myself?” You’d be lying if you said you weren’t offended by the implication. “I know you haven’t seen me fight yet, but let me assure you, I can.”

Steve smiled a little, glancing at you as he carried a few shirts to where he had a duffle bag sitting on his bed. “I’m not arguing with you,” he said. “Just… I’ll feel better, if you’re not there, I think. I’ll feel better knowing you’re here, relatively out of harm’s way.”

“That’s not it, though,” you concluded. You knew him well enough by this point to be able to tell when there was more to what he was saying. “What else is there, Rogers?”

Steve sighed, just loud enough for you to be able to hear it. “You might be a distraction,” he said. He sounded embarrassed, almost, and most definitely apologetic. “If you come along, I mean. I’m gonna need to focus all of my attention on doing whatever they need me to do, and if you’re there, my attention is going to be divided.”

You did not like being called a distraction, but you were touched that he felt as such. “I won’t be a distraction when I’m miles away?”

“No,” he said, turning around to face you after zipping the duffle bag closed. “You’ll be here, safe, like I said. That’s one less worry.”

“We don’t know for sure,” you reminded him. “SHIELD has no idea what Loki’s plan for the Tesseract is. What if New York ends up being in the line of an alien invasion? I won’t be “safe” then, will I?”

“Maybe not,” Steve replied, “but I’ll be here again, if that happens, and I’ll be able to protect you.” At your dry look, he smiled. “If necessary.”

You exhaled a breath, turning your gaze downwards. “Y/N?” Steve prompted. If you knew him well, he matched you on that same level.

“I guess you’re lucky, then,” you told him, quietly. “Director Fury said I don’t have clearance for this mission, that I’m supposed to stay here and keep an eye on things. I guess I’m the ground crew.”

You heard him cross the room to where you were standing, and he tilted your chin so that you were looking at him. His blue eyes were gentle with barely suppressed affection, but there was a hint of sadness in them, too.

“Somebody’s gotta stay, to keep an eye out for that invasion,” he said, smirking, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I guess if not me, who else?” You sobered up, again, and gazed at him. “Don’t… well, don’t do anything that you can’t do, and… come back safe.”

“I will,” he assured. “I’m not about to leave another girl behind.”

You stared at him, wondering if there were any last minute pieces of advice that you could give to him. He waited, patiently, like he expected something from you.

“Uh, Tony Stark’s kind of a dick,” you blurted, and the small grin on his face grew about tenfold. “I mean it. You’re not gonna agree with him a lot of the time, and it’s probably gonna make working together really difficult, but… you’ll be able to handle it. Just keep your head.” You paused. “And don’t insult his tower.”

“What tower?” Steve asked, amused.

“The Stark Tower.” You paused. “I guess it makes sense that you haven’t seen it. Hang on.” A quick search on your cell phone, and you had a picture of the tower up on the screen. You showed it to him. Immediately, he made a face.

“It’s… ugly.”

You laughed out loud, again, and you lowered your phone. “Yeah, see, don’t say that to him, ‘kay?” You slid your phone away into your pocket, again, and considered. “Uh… the helicarrier is nuts, so don’t be too freaked out by it.”

“I doubt I will be,” Steve commented. “It won’t be new territory by any means.”

“Hah,” you said, although without much infliction. He didn’t seem to notice. He was busy watching your face, as though trying to memorize it. You offered him a look complete with raised eyebrows, and he smiled again, softer this time.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just… taking it all in.”

You leaned up on your toes to kiss him. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, even as he picked up his bag. He held you close for several minutes, a couple of which were really not affordable, and then he let you go.

“I’ll, uh…” He pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. “I’ll miss you.”

“Yeah, well, take care of it quick, and then you can come back,” you retorted lightly, tapping him on the chest. Seeing the expression on his face, you exhaled a breath. “I’ll miss you too, Rogers.”

There was a knock on his apartment door, and you both turned in that direction. “Captain?” That was Agent Coulson, there to escort him to a quinjet that would fly him to SHIELD’s specialized helicarrier. “Time to head out.”

Steve looked back at you, placed kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and then he was gone.

You stood in the middle of his bedroom, arms wrapped around your middle. You hated how empty the apartment suddenly felt, how empty you felt alongside it. You worried the inside of your lip for a moment, wishing that there was some way of getting rid of the uncomfortable sensation. You’d never felt empty before. You’d been heartbroken, obviously, when your father had died. You’d experienced extreme sadness, after your very first cat had to be put down. But emptiness? That was a new one, but you were positive that was the only description you could give to what you were feeling.

You inhaled, slowly, glancing around his bedroom for a moment. It was not good, probably, how attached you were. Even with a relationship having been established between the two of you, wasn’t it too soon? Why were you taking this separation so badly, already? You’d only just recently stopped separating yourself from him. How was this any different from that decision?

I was the one to separate us, that first time. That was on me, it was optional. This is a lot different from that, because neither of us can make the choice to end the separation. It just has to happen, one way or another.

You shivered, involuntarily, and decided that it was time to go back to your own apartment.

Before you left his, however, you searched through his closet for something of his that you could take with you, as a sort of comfort item. You decided on a soft sweatshirt that had Brooklyn, New York written on it. You’d never seen him wear it, but it smelled remarkably like he did, his cologne and the charcoal that he used to draw.

You pulled the sweatshirt on over your head, and left his apartment, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before he was asking to draw you, again. You hadn’t let him, not at first. You’d thought it was weird, but maybe that had been a thing, back in the 1900s, just casual drawing of one another between friends. Jack had drawn Rose in Titanic, after all, but that had been raunchy as hell. Something inside of you said that wasn’t what Steve had had in mind, but all the same, you’d said no.

But he’d been persistent, and after about a month of working with him, you’d given in, because you were curious about his skill level. So, for the better part of a two-hour period, you’d sat reading, like he’d asked you to, and waited patiently as he drew. The end result had been so good, that you’d taken it home and placed it on your fridge; you weren’t allowed to hang frames in your apartment. If you were, the drawing would have a place of honor on your wall.

You sighed to yourself as you settled down behind the steering wheel of your car, and you did something that you hadn’t since your father had died; you prayed.

Please, keep him safe, and keep everyone else involved safe, too.

Steve rubbed at his eyes as he sat in a chair at the conference table located near the helicarrier’s bridge. He was the only one still present in the room, after the conversation that the entire team had just had. It had ended in a disagreement, which seemed to be a pattern for them, already. They’d only just started working together, too. Things were not boding well for their future as a cooperative group of people.

At least they’d got the guy. Loki was a strange one, and obviously not the most friendly. He was a bully. Steve hated bullies. He was locked away deep within the recesses of the helicarrier, however, probably already trying to think of a way to escape. The fact that his brother had come along, Thor, that didn’t help matters much, especially since he seemed set on taking Loki back to their home world for trial there.

Under any other circumstances, Steve probably would have agreed with him. Anything to get Loki off of Earth. However, they still had no idea where the Tesseract was. Knowing Loki’s plan was useless when they did not know the location of the thing he hoped to pull it off with. Hopefully, Stark and Banner would get on that sooner rather than later. He supposed he could sit in on their work, keep an eye out, but he honestly would not be able to understand any of the scientific stuff that they’d be working with, and he’d only be a distraction.

Stark did not like him. Steve had no idea why, but thanks to Y/N’s warning, he’d been expecting an attitude similar to the one that Stark currently possessed. It did not make it any easier to deal with him, but at least he wasn’t able to catch Steve off guard. He’d have to thank Y/N for that later.

He did not appreciate how much he missed you already. It had been… what, two days? Maybe even less than that, he wasn’t sure. The trip to Germany had thrown him off. Whatever it was, it felt like it had been years, and he’d slept through seventy. His separation anxiety should not be going wild the way it currently was. He chalked it up to the fact that the world was not yet safe, and that meant you weren’t either.

He lowered his hand to the table top, gazed down at the glass for a moment. Work needed to be done. The world needed to be made safe. You needed to be safe.

He pushed himself up from the table, sticking his hands into the pockets of the pants he was wearing. The best place to get work done was the lab where the Tesseract was being tracked. After all, the sooner the Tesseract was back in SHIELD’s hands, the sooner he’d back back with Y/N.

“Can I talk to him?”

Fury sighed on the other end of the line. “No,” he said. “He needs to focus on what’s happening here.”

You scowled down at the floor, before lifting your gaze towards the sky, which you could see through a nearby window. Somewhere overhead, miles apart from you, was the helicarrier that currently carried Steve, and the rest of the Avengers. It also carried the body of Agent Phil Coulson. This call from Director Fury was to inform you of his death.

You’d miss Coulson. He’d been a friendly guy, always ready with a joke, when the situation called for it. He’d also been a huge fan of Steve, something he’d no doubt expressed to the man himself. You could sense Steve’s horror and regret over the loss of Coulson, which was desperately why you wanted to speak to him.

“Please, sir,” you said, calmly. “Just for two minutes.”

“Y/LN, a god has just escaped from our custody, after wreaking havoc on the helicarrier,” Fury replied. “The last thing that Captain Rogers needs is for you to distract him.”

“I’m not going to!” you said, firmly. “Director Fury, I’m making this one single request of you. Can’t you grant it to me, after not allowing me clearance on the mission itself? Think of it as me checking on him to see if he’s still handling the 21st century.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. Finally, Fury cursed, under his breath, and then he said, “Two minutes.”

Relief blossomed in your chest, and you waited to hear Steve’s voice with anticipation.

“Y/N?”

God, he sounded so sad, but also relieved to know he was talking to you.

“Hey, Rogers,” you greeted, settling down on the edge of the bed in his apartment. You’d headed over there to clean, a little, since it had no doubt gotten dusty. “How’re you doing?”

“Could be better,” he admitted. “Losing a soldier is always hard.”

“I know. He’ll be missed.” You paused, suddenly not sure of what to say, when only three minutes prior, you’d had about eighty million things. “Uh… I miss you?”

He responded with a tired-sounding chuckle. “Yeah. I miss you too. Hopefully, we’ll be able to figure this out soon.” He paused. “And sign of an alien invasion?”

You smiled. “Not yet. Why, should I be expecting one?”

“Uh, maybe,” Steve said, and your smile faded. That had not sounded like a joke. “We’re working it out, as best we can.”

“Wait, so, aliens are an actual possibility?” You couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. Aliens? Really?

“Y/N -“ He stopped, and fell silent. You heard someone speak to him. His reply was muffled, and then he was speaking to you again. “Gotta go. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

There were other things to say, but no time. “Okay,” you sighed. “Be safe.”

You had no idea whether or not he heard you, because the call had ended. You lowered your phone, sighing to yourself.

Aliens. What the fuck?

[skiachtro]

CHARACTER RESEARCH  →  BEFORE THE COLLAPSE  →  EVERYONE.

(  okay, i really wanted to release some of these because i’m excited. i don’t have all of them written, but i have most of their stories.  )

                                                                        001.  WILLOW :  

before the end of everything, willow was a semi-truck driver. she traveled the country, had some good guys in the field. she’d talk to them over the radio all night, always laughing. and, really,  she  always made  them  laugh. she’s hilarious when she opens up. humor is what got her into trouble, which is part of the reason she never smiles now  (  the other part being scarecrow  ). one night, she was driving ; roads clear, sky clear --  her  mind  was clear. she rested her forearms on the wheel, looked up and out at the stars, mesmerized. she always longed to be free, careless, able to see the clear starry night as opposed to the ceiling of a home or the lights in a city.  willow tree, you copy?  she chuckles, hand moving to grab her radio, ❝ i told you to stop callin’ me that, asshole. ❞  

and as did i tell you to stop callin’ me that.  another voice joined in:  are you hurtin’ his feelin’s again before midnight?  another laugh. ah, that was the good life. the boys, the wide open road, the fresh night air. ❝ someones gotta do it. ❞  well someone’s gotta be nice to me, too -- who’s gonna pitch in on that front??  they all laugh, willow’s face glowing with her cheeks a rosy pink ; she’s been smiling so much her face literally  hurts. their uproar calms down, and she takes the initiative to settle back into her chair, resting her head in her hand that’s held up by an elbow propped on her truck door. finally, he spoke up again, this time his voice is  softer.  but in all seriousness, guys.. you doin’ all right?  the same man who chimed in before chimes in again immediately with: oh, we’re doin’ fine, you fuckin’ mother hen.  again, that made everyone laugh. the first guy interjects,  all right, all right. you can’t blame me for checkin’ up on my crew. y’all know these hours are hectic.  ❝ yeah, they are, but this is what keeps me sane. ❞   aw, shit, she’s flirtin’ with you, dude.  ❝ oh, my god, c’mon -- ❞  winni and willow sittin’ in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g,  ❝ i swear to god, ellis. you’re literally the prime source of my anxiety. ❞  but still, she laughed. she was teasing back, the same kind of banter they’ve always had. i just like that he gave winnipeg such a juicy nickname. winni. sounds so scandalous.  ❝ that sounded like a flirt! ❞  you know what, willow, you’re right. winni and ellis sittin’ in a tree--  oh, let it begin. ellis chimes in with,  don’t you even start that shit, charlie. willow continued to listen, but her attention was beginning to drift elsewhere. the highway was literally  clear, but now there’s a light shining in her side mirror that is reflecting  perfectly  into her eyes. not great. ❝ jesus christ, doesn’t any asshole in this goddamn country know how to drive? ❞  someone givin’ you problems, willow?  ❝ more like givin’  themselves  problems. ❞  oh, shit, true. she’ll fuck your shit up.  ❝ oh, yes she fuckin’ will! ❞ she replies with a smile and some pep, but this minor situation is beginning to turn into something a little more serious. this guy won’t let off. he’s in a big pick-up, not really a match for a semi, still, but enough to cause trouble is played out carefully. ❝ goddamn.. ❞  pull over, willow, just let him pass. he’s probably some drunk idiot.  ❝ nah, i gotta get this shipment there on time. some frat boy isn’t gonna derail me. ❞  it ain’t safe, willow.  

-- and it  wasn’t.

willow? willow?!  their voices echo, calling out over and over and they  know  something’s wrong. in just a few moments of silence, her world was turned upside down. (  literally, as well.  )   it  was  some drunk idiot ; he decided to speed around her, then proceed to cut her off in a way that she had to make a quick maneuver. she wound up disconnecting from the back of the semi, cab flipping at least once, in a ditch. by the time fire and medics arrived, she was slowly beginning to regain some consciousness. it sounded like she was underwater, the muffled screams of the man who had run her off in the first place echoing in the background. he decided, stupidly, to pull over after what he had done and have the  audacity  to berate and yell at her for getting in his way. luckily, when the cops arrived, they saw this. the man was arrested. she heard him constantly pleading and begging to them that he saw a dead man walking. he saw a  corpse  walking. it would later turn out to be true in hindsight, but in the moment? fucking  ridiculous.  the first firefighters to come to the scene were captain  ████████ , and his crew. that’s how she met scarecrow, that’s how they began their journey together into the apocalypse.

+  willow had no one as a significant other during the time of the outbreak. she had a strong relationship with three guys from her work: charlie, ellis, and winnipeg. not much is known of her family yet, but it is known she lost at least one of the co-workers early on. 

+  willow enjoyed activities like sports (  baseball, basketball, soccer  ), painting, drawing, sewing cross-stitch, hunting, going to the gun range, playing darts.

                                                                        001.  SCARECROW :

work in progress.

                                                                        002.  ABE :

before it all, abe was a butcher in a local shop. originally, he was a navy seal, working for / with NCIS. when word of an extremist group was exposed to his team, they began their extensive search, digging into any information about the group they could find. somehow or another, months and months into it  (  perhaps it had even been a year at that point?  ), it all came back to hit him in the face. they had his wife, his child  --  he was immediately dismissed from the case --  banned  from investigating any farther or having anything to do with the investigation. he was assured they were going to find his family and return them safely. well, that just didn’t sit well with him. abe took it upon himself to disobey direct orders, find where they had taken his family, and kill the men who had his girls. his wife made their daughter not look. his ex-wife never thought he was a monster, even after witnessing this side of him, but a part of her still couldn’t help but  wonder. he was doing everything to protect her, protect their  daughter  -- there was no other option. one day, he prays, she will get to find that peace in knowing. in understanding.

afterwards, he was dishonorably discharged. his wife and daughter went into the witness protection program after their quickly rushed, finalized divorce. still love him? yes, always. but they both know what was and is safest for the overall well-being of their daughter. it’s safer for him to be separated, for them to not be associated. he doesn’t know their new location, nor does he know their new names. he knows nothing about them. and as much as he wants to, he doesn’t dare try to go looking for them. that would be selfish. this is meant to be  selfless.

+  abe had no significant other at the time of the outbreak. he also had no close family or friends. he was basically on his own. he hopes that some how, some way, his ex-wife and his daughter are okay, that they’re alive  -- that maybe one day he’ll run into them. maybe this world can set them free, let them be a family again.

+  before the end, abe enjoyed disciplined work-outs, boxing, dancing ( who woulda known?? not like.. pop or anything, just.. ballroom-like dancing. the man can salsa. ), occasional journalism.

                                                                        003.  LUKE :

luke was around the age of 19 / 20 when the outbreak begun. before it happened, he was taking a couple years to himself after finishing high school. he worked as a barista at a coffee shop in town, and was saving up to most likely go to college. he was interested in graphic design, video game making  -- something like that. he really wasn’t sure. one thing he was sure of was  ariel.  they had known each other since high school, always got along, but only began to grow serious  after  high school. towards the end of his eighteenth year of life, they began to become romantically involved. they were inseparable after. towards the end of the age of nineteen, they had finally admitted their love to each other. she was, without a doubt, the one he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with. she had a kind heart, looked after his little brothers as though they were her own. they were her boys, and they happily obliged. 

luke grew up in a loving home. he was born in the philippines, his mother and father moving to the united states when he was very young due to his growing hearing problem. there was a hospital in california who would take him, help him. cochlear implants helped him fro most of his childhood, but once he grew to be six or so, his troubles with hearing became more frequent, even with the device. due to complications, he had to have the device removed around the age of ten. by the age of thirteen, his hearing was completely gone. up until then, he had mostly talked, thought he  did  know sign language. once his hearing was totally lost, he began speaking solely through sign language, though he would sometimes speak to those he’s close to in private. 

+  luke had a girlfriend before the world died. it was a very serious relationship, the only he’s ever had, and he was definitely smitten by her  (  as was she by him  ).  towards the end, he was fairly certain that he was preparing himself to propose to her. and he would have, had their final days not come. as far as family, the only ones who didn’t fall ill were himself, his girlfriend ( initially ), his fifteen year old brother, and his eight year old brother. they took care of each other well. lukas was ( is )  deaf, but his youngest brother had something that had not been diagnosed ; it was a mental illness of some kind. anxiety, depression, other various attributes. 

+  luke enjoyed playing video games, reading comics, action movies??? heck yeah, long-boarding, and he can also play a bit of the guitar.

                                                                        004.  MARIE :

work in progress.

                                                                        005.  ROSE : 

work in progress.

                                                                       006.  ARIEL :

work in progress.

                                                                       007.  MADDIE AND MAX :

work in progress.

                                                                       008.  MAX :

work in progress.

                                                                       009.  NADINE :

work in progress.

[scones-and-texting-and-murder]

Divine Intervention

(Thank you to Luna for donating to our @trashbrigade  gisholership fundraiser!)

ao3

Once Sam leaves the motel room, Dean locks the door behind him and sits down on the bed to consider his options. He’s got a couple of hours at least before his brother gets back and he’s feeling restless. Maybe he should indulge in a little me-time to see if that helps.

Double checking that the door is locked, he lies back on the bed and reaches for his belt, then stops and grabs another pillow to shove behind his head. He starts to move toward his belt again but instead drops his hands to the mattress, sighing. He kinda wishes Cas were here. Not like that he quickly adds to himself. It’s just that it’s been awhile since he’s seen Cas and he wonders how he is. He’d probably feel better if he knew Cas was ok. He’d definitely be less edgy if he could be sure that Cas wasn’t in any kind of trouble. That’s all. If Cas could only poof on in here with his hair all fluffed up and his eyes all blue and his arms all muscley…

Ok, maybe a little bit like that.

He lets his mind wander into something that approximates praying to Cas but leaves him with plausible deniability. If he shows up, great. If not, it’s not like Dean is lying around here being a wussy baby. It’s no big deal either way.

Only a few seconds pass before that tell-tale whoosh has Dean smiling. It’s only another second later that Dean scrambles to his feet because that is not Cas. It’s an older man Dean has never seen before, dressed incongruently in a loud Hawaiian shirt and ripped jeans.

In a flash, Dean has a knife in his hand but with a flick of the intruder’s wrist it goes flying across the room. Next, Dean grabs for the gun in his jacket pocket but before he can get to it, another casual gesture leaves him pinned against the wall.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Dean gives him the best glare he can muster while being completely at his mercy.

“I’m happy to free you if you’ll just hear me out.”

Dean nods and immediately feels the use of his body return. Taking a few steps away from the wall, he clenches and unclenches his fists. “What are you? What do you want?”

The stranger eyes him curiously. “First off, why did you start with the knife?”

“Are you seriously questioning my weapon choices?”

The man ticks things off on his fingers. “Knife first, then gun. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of killing you,” Dean answers, and yeah, he’s feeling a little defensive at this point. “Still am,” he mutters a bit more quietly.

“Why not go first for the angel blade under the bed?”

Dean narrows his eyes at him. “How did you know about—“

“You were praying. To an angel. And then I appeared. It doesn’t take a genius.”

Now that Dean has gathered himself a little, he recognizes some of the angelic signs: that ramrod posture despite the casual clothing, and the intense, almost quizzical stare. “Ok, fine. A winged dick. Got it. What do you want?”

The angel sighs, sort of like Sam does right before one of his lectures. “Where do I start? The recklessness? The medicating with alcohol? The insistence on pork rinds as one of the major food groups?” This last one is accompanied by an actual shudder.

“Great, my own personal self-help angel.” Dean crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Look, buddy, why don’t you mind your own business, I wasn’t even praying to you.”

“I know.”

“You know? Then what are you doing here? Isn’t that like...opening somebody else’s mail?” Or something. Either way Dean is pretty sure it’s against angel etiquette.

The angel doesn’t seem put off by Dean’s excellent reasoning. “Who were you praying to?”

Dean hems and haws. “Don’t you know?”

The angel raises his eyebrows. “Say it.”

Dean feels himself blush. “Castiel.”

Cas poofs in. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.” The first angel on the scene mocks, shaking his head. “Always the same thing with you two.”

Cas’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, almost deferentially. “Penemue. What are you doing here?”

Penemue gestures grandly to Dean which causes Cas to look a little pained. “He may be my biggest challenge yet.”

“That’s not fair, Penemue. He’s doing his best.”

“If I didn’t know you were an angel, I could say the same for you.”

Dean looks between them. “Ok, enough of the secret angel club chit chat. What are you talking about? What’s he even doing here?”

Penemue gives Cas a patient look. “Do you want to tell him? Or should I?”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dean, Penemue is an angel. A fallen angel whose specialty is—uh—curingstupidityinman.”

Dean frowns in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Really, Castiel?”

Cas sighs. “Curing stupidity in man.”

Dean uncrosses his arms solely for the opportunity to cross them again with added indignation. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“He’s not saying any—“

Penemue speaks to Dean slowly. “I’m saying you’re stupid.”

Bristling, Cas steps toward the other angel. “You should probably go now.”

“Nah, I’ve got nothing but time. And this one needs some work.”

“You know he was considered the Righteous Man.” Dean hides a smile as Cas puffs up a little.

Nodding, Penemue agrees. “I am aware. He can be righteous and stupid at the same time.”

Dean moves closer to Cas so that they can form a united front against this jerk. “You know, I’ve met a lot of dick angels, but I think you take the cake.” He makes a mental note to work on creating a sigil that banishes only unwanted angels.

Penemue gives him a disapproving look. “I have a job to do and I’ve put it off long enough. I can overlook many of your ignorant choices, Dean. Drink yourself to death? Fine. Watch your cholesterol shoot through the roof? Have at it. But when your stupidity affects others, it’s time I got involved.”

Dean feels a frisson of alarm as Cas steps forward but is quickly stopped in his tracks by Penemue holding up a hand. Dean can’t tell if it’s some sort of grace mojo preventing his advance or simply resignation to whatever this more powerful angel has on him. At least Dean is given a moment to collect his thoughts while Penemue turns his attention to Cas. “You realize that you are equally to blame for this. Much of this could have been avoided had you taken matters into your own hands years ago.”

Dean doesn’t like the sound of that and no doubt he’s getting called an ape next, but his irritation eases when Cas says coolly, “It’s not like that.”

Dean tries not to flinch as Penemue stares at him. It’s got the same angel-intensity he’s used to from Cas but with none of the warmth. Just cold calculation. “You’ve had time, Castiel. Lots of it. And honestly I’m not sure what you’ve been doing down here other than not watching What Not To Wear.”

Cas looks down at his suit and trenchcoat, more confused than offended. Dean loses a few moments considering him in something perhaps a little more form-fitting but he’s brought back to the present when Penemue announces, “Time’s up.”

“This isn’t necessary,” Cas blurts.

If this assclown thinks Cas should’ve offed him years ago then he doesn’t know his so-called brother as well as he thinks. Feeling confident for this first time since this whole thing started, Dean smirks. “Nice try, buddy. If Cas hasn’t killed me by now he ain’t gonna.”

Cas raises a hand of warning but Penemue rounds on Dean, eyes gleaming. “Is that what you think?”

“That’s what I know.” He smiles at Cas, who, strangely, is rubbing his temple.

“I’m not interested in Castiel killing you,” Penemue says, slowly circling Dean. He pauses, looking thoughtful. “But I suppose it would solve the problem.”

“What are you talking about.” Dean looks to Cas. “What’s he talking about?”

“The words are so similar. Maybe that’s where the confusion stems. What with those tiny human minds and all.”

Cas’s voice takes on a tone of desperation. “I’ll take care of it, brother. I promise. You can go.”

Penemue shakes his head. “Your word is no longer enough.”

Well, that’s just rude. “Don’t let him talk to you that way.” Dean still isn’t sure exactly what’s going on but there’s zero chance he’s going to stand by while this guy badmouths Cas. He glares at Penemue. “If he says he’ll do it, he’ll do it.”

“Will he?” Penemue turns to Cas. “Will you? Ok, I’ll wait.” He sits down on the edge of Dean’s bed, hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Uh,” Cas says, and if Dean isn’t mistaken he’s blushing. He looks at Penemue almost beseechingly but Penemue responds with a clear get on with it motion.

Dean throws up his hands. “Ok. That’s it. Somebody tell me what’s going on.”

“Shall I?” Penemue asks with a look of delight.

“I’ll do it.” Cas sucks in a breath and looks somewhere over Dean’s left shoulder. “Dean, Penemue is under the impression that you have been foolishly denying yourself something you want. He’s here to see you…uh…over that particular hurdle.”

“He thinks I’m doing something stupid,” Dean clarifies.

“I do!” Penemue says brightly. “And it is my obligation to put an end to it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to remedy whatever it is I'm apparently not doing?”

Cas refocuses on the wall behind Dean and mumbles something.

Penemue cups a hand around his ear. “Louder, please!”

“He wants us to kiss.”

Dean feels the air get sucked out of the room. “That’s not…I’m not…” he sputters.

“Uhhhhhhh, yeah you are,” Penemue says, with a level of sarcasm that Gabriel could only hope to achieve. “Did you know that every time you send up one of those half-prayers, it reverberates through all of us? The time you two have known each other is a tiny drop in the ocean cosmically and yet, each day seems to drag for an eternity because we’re all caught up in this nonsense with you.”

“You have no right—“ Cas begins.

“I have every right because you’re both idiots. Do you know how long you’ve been doing this? Forget kissing, how have you two not been naked together yet? I can’t believe any two beings could spend so much time with their cocks in such close proximity and not have consummated their relationship. There’s a word for that, you know: coximity. And you two have exceeded the time frame and failed its sacred test.”

Dean blinks his eyes rapidly and holds up a hand. “That’s not a word.”

Cas gives him a look that clearly asks that’s what you’re getting from this?

“It is indeed a word.”

Dean isn’t sure of much at the moment, but he’s sure of this. “It’s definitely not.”

“Tell him what else I am, Castiel.”

Defeated, Cas responds in a monotone, “The angel of reading and writing.”

“The angel of reading and writing,” Penemue repeats proudly. “That means I can create any word of my choosing.” As they watch, he happily enunciates it again. “Coximity.”

Dean slaps himself in the forehead. His brain is going in about a thousand different directions as he tries to make sense of this. That may explain the next thing to come out of his mouth. “So if I kiss him will you get the hell out of here?”

“Dean, you don’t need to—“

Before he can lose his nerve, Dean kisses him. Cas’s lips are hot and dry and perfect and without meaning to, Dean reaches a hand to his face, feeling the prickle of stubble against his palm. They kiss, the rest of the world forgotten, until Dean’s startled by a clap on his shoulder. Dazed, he pulls back, drawing in a ragged breath and nearly unable to drag his gaze from Cas’s flushed face and spit-slick mouth.

Penemue stands with a hand on each of them. He beams at Dean. “I knew you were smarter than you looked.”

Dean smiles, still dopey from the kissing. “Thanks—hey, wait.”

His voice is kind when he addresses Castiel. “I trust you can take things from here?”

Cas ducks his head. “Yes. Thank you.”

Penemue squeezes his shoulder fondly. “Perhaps I’m here to erase the stupidity of angels as well. Oh, and one more thing, Castiel.” He waves a hand in the air and then, with a rustle and a loud crack, he’s gone.

Dean’s mouth goes dry at finding Cas suddenly clad in tight jeans and a black leather jacket. This time there’s no divine intervention required for Dean to kiss him.