#caffeine either makes me more tired or makes me jittery no in between

[chiimeramanticore]

unironically do any of you guys have any tips on how to feel more awake before like noon cuz this shit is the bane of my existence and I feel like I've tried everything atp

[leossmoonn]

No Weakness [Spencer Reid]

masterlist 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

type - fluff, lil angst 

request / note -  “where the reader is new to BAU and they see dead body first time, and it kinda bothers them. and spencer noticed it, even when the reader tries they best no show it (bc they’re scared it makes the look like they’re weak) so when they’re just two of them spencer tries to make them feel better and tells them its okay and it does not make them weak.” this was so fun to write, ahhh! thank you @avrilstaro for requesting <3 *not edited lol oops*

summary - you’re embarrassed after freaking out from seeing a dead body, but spencer assures you that it’s okay

warnings / includes - descriptions of mutilated body, small description of case (child kidnapper case for this fic), crying, anxiety, nausea, little fighting, food mention. you and spencer are dating in this  

———— 

*gif isn’t mine*

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to sleep in,” you mumbled, throwing your purse down on your desk rather roughly. 

“Not like you would’ve anyways. Ariel was meowing for you five minutes before we got called in,” Spencer stated. 

“So? I would’ve fallen back asleep after,” you shrugged. “You would’ve stayed up all morning playing with her, babe,” Spencer chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do! You’ve done it every morning since we got her,” Spencer argued. 

You scoffed, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You trudged over to the coffee machine, getting out a mug the size of a bowl and filling it to the brim. It was already your third cup of the day, and while it was probably unhealthy drinking that much coffee, you needed it. It was your first week on the job and you still weren’t used to waking up at five in the morning for a surprise case. This was your second case, though, so you weren’t very surprised that you were still tired. You knew you would get used to it as time went on, but you wished that your body and mind would adapt faster. 

“You’re coming on the field today.” Emily nudged your arm with a file. 

Your eyes widened and you sputtered out coffee, coughing to try and clear your throat. Emily chuckled, patting your back gently to help you. You set your coffee down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand once you got control of your breathing.  

“W-What?” You asked, the words Emily said not processing in your brain. 

“I said you’re coming onto the field today,” she repeated. 

“B-But…” your trailed off, trying to find a reasonable explanation. “I-I wasn't supposed to be on the field for another week. I’m still technically in training.” 

“Well, part of the training is going on the field. You’re an amazing agent in the office, L/n, but you'd be even better on the field. You’re able to sympathise with the unsubs and solve the puzzles faster than most of us can, sometimes faster than your boyfriend. You’ll help us a lot better out there than in here.” 

You chuckled nervously, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Thanks, Emily, but I’m not ready.” 

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s what all the new agents say. You need to just get out there, and there’s no better time to do that then early in the game.”

“I guess,” you muttered, lifting your coffee cup and taking a sip. 

“You’ll be fine, Y/n. I have no doubts,” Emily smiled. 

“Thanks.” You have her a small smile. “No problem. And hey, don’t tell Spencer I said you’re better at the job than him,” she winked. 

You laughed and nodded, “I won’t, I promise.” 

She walked away, leaving you to lean against the counter and to drink the rest of your coffee before going to the briefing room. 

“So, I heard that Newbie is finally coming along with us today!” Luke exclaimed. 

“Newbie is your nickname, Newbie,” Penelope narrowed her eyes at Luke. Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you excited?”

You sat down in one of the chairs between to Luke and Matt. “Not really, if I”m being honest.” 

“Oh, why? You’ll be great!” Matt smiled. “So everyone says,” you sighed. 

“Hey, I heard you’re coming with us today. Can’t wait to have you on the field.” Spencer smiled as he walked past you. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to outsmart you, too,” you smirked. 

“Oh, Reid, looks like you have some competition!” Luke teased. 

Spencer shook his head and looked at you through his lashes. You gave him a challenging look, leaning on the table. 

“May the best agent win, Reid,” you dared. 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Better have no weaknesses, L/n.” 

“Oh, I have none,” you smirked. Spencer replied to you with a hum, giving you an excited smile before paying attention to the case.  

Penelope and Emily delivered the case to you six, then leaving you all to pack up your things as you were going on the jet. You got out the small duffle bag of clothes you had in your car for traveling on cases, also grabbing your phone charger and the case files. You walked up onto the jet, placing your bags up over the overhead storage area. You got seated across from Tara and next to Spencer. 

You all talked about your plans to catch the unsub and where you all were assigned to. Tara, you, and Spencer were going to go to the crime scene to scope out the area. Emily and JJ would stay at the police station and work there, while Matt and Luke did witness and suspect interviews. 

You were sitting back in your chair, looking out the window and admiring the sky as the jet flew through the clouds. You still had an hour before you landed. Everyone was either sleeping or listening to music. You had thought about going back to sleep, but it seems as though the three cups of coffee you had finally kicked in.  

You regretted drinking so much coffee because now, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was totally because of the caffeine or that you were nervous about being on the field for the first time, but you assumed it was a little bit of both. 

Spencer, who was seated next to you, noticed your jitteriness. He closed his book softly, setting it down on the floor next to his seat, turning to you and taking your hands in his. 

Your head snapped to him quickly, your eyes landing on his. He gave you a soft smile, beginning to rub his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You’ll do great out there, alright?” He assured. 

You sighed, turning away from the window and to him. “What if the lead I find doesn’t work? What if I can’t figure out where the unsub has the kids? O-Or what if I embarrass myself in front of the police chief?”

Spencer chuckled softly at your concerns, making you frown. 

“Don’t laugh! Hey, I bet you had all these concerns when you first joined.” 

“I did,” he admitted. “But, I learned that I worked with a team. It’s not just me doing the work, just like it’s not just you. You have seven people working with you on this. Try and relax, baby, alright? You do amazing work at the office. This won’t be any different.” 

You scoffed, “Please. It’s like, a million times different.” 

“Just try and relax,” he instructed, putting your hand up to his lips. 

You smiled widely, your heart fluttering as he kissed your hand. 

“Plus, even if it was just you working the case, I have no doubt you would figure it out quickly.” 

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled and leaned your head against the headrest. 

“Of course. I love you,” he said, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Oh, gross. You guys know I just became newly single,” Tara scoffed. 

You laughed and turned to her. “That was like, nine months ago.” 

Tara raised her brows, looking at Matt and Spencer, and back at you. “You weren’t even here back then. How do you know this?” 

“I just know things,” you winked. “Yeah, well I’m betting someone blabbed,” Tara grumbled. 

“We would never,” Matt disagreed. “Mhm,” Tara hummed, going back onto her phone. 

You smiled at you teammates and looked back at Spencer and putting your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a few moments, opening your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You rolled your head around, your eyes settling onto Spencer who was back to reading his book. You turned your head back to the window, furrowing your brows as you noticed you weren’t up in the sky anymore. 

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Spencer spoke, putting his book away. 

“Are we here already?” You asked, your voice croaky and hoarse. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “We landed about ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh,” you frowned, sitting up and getting out of your seat. You stretched your limbs, yawning once more as you held your hand up above your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You sighed. 

“You’re just so peaceful when you sleep. I couldn’t,” he explained. 

You smiled and went to get your luggage. “Thanks, Spence. But everyone is probably waiting for me now.” 

“No, it’s alright. We can’t go and see the crime scene yet anyways.” 

“How come?” You asked. “Not prepped for us,” Spencer answered. 

“Since when does a crime scene need to be prepped for the FBI?” You snorted. 

“You’d be surprised,” Spencer let out a breathy chuckle. 

You put your duffle bag over your shoulders and handing Spencer his, holding your hand out for Spencer to take. “Join me down the stairs?” 

“Of course,” he grinned, standing up and taking your hand into his and his bag.

You two walked off the jet, going over to the SUV. Spencer drove you two to the hotel where you dropped off your things, immediately going to the police station. 

“ ‘Bout time!” Matt exclaimed, seeing you two walking through the doors. 

You chuckled, “Sorry. Looks like the coffee wore off and I finally crashed.” 

“It’s alright. I think the scene is ready for you guys to look at now,” he said. 

“Great,” you smiled. 

You and Spencer found Tara, going into the SUV once again, driving to the house where the parents were killed and children taken. 

“Wow, I’ve never seen this much yellow tape in my life,” you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s definitely not an eye sore,” Tara chortled, stepping over the caution tape. 

You and Spencer followed her, going up to the police offers that were talking at the front door. 

“Hi, we’re FBI agent with the BAU. I’m Doctor Tara Lewis, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, and Agent Y/n L/n,” Tara introduced you all. 

You smiled and shook the two officer’s hand. “Nice to meet you two.” 

“Likewise. I’m Officer Santiago and this is Officer Reynolds. The parents were killed in two different places. The father in the bedroom, mother in the oldest child’s room.” 

“Lovely. Can’t wait to see,” Tara smiled sarcastically. 

“Oh, I bet. Go ahead and go in, let us know if you find anything, please,” Reynolds said. 

You nodded and stepped into the house, cringing at the heavy smell of bleach. 

“God. It’s like a hospital in here, but twenty times worse!” You held your nose. “I should’ve told Emily I needed to stay back with Penelope.” 

“Oh, this is nothing,” Spencer smirked. “Wait until you see where they all got killed.” 

“Ew, Spence!” You shrieked. “You’re supposed to protect me from all that.” 

He chuckled, “All part of the job, baby.” 

You nodded and sighed, knowing that he was right. As always. You three walked up the stairs, looking at where the father was killed. There was an enormous amount of blood of the bedsheets and some on the corner of the right nightstand, some splatters that were below on the floor. 

“So,” you started. “We’re looking at a team, right? I mean, there’s no way that the unsub could kill the father without the mom noticing.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking’,” Tara nodded. “Well, I could be possible,” Spencer contradicted.

You and Tara looked at each other, confused. 

“Yeah, how?” You asked.

 “Well,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed. “The unsub could’ve choked or suffocated the father in his sleep. I mean, there were ligature marks around his neck, right?” 

“True. And the mom was saying goodnight to her children, so she obviously didn’t see her husband get killed,” Tara added on. 

You furrowed your brows, stepped out of the parents’s bedroom, going to the child’s. 

“Yeah, but, what about the kid? I mean, wouldn’t it have screamed and fought and ran out of the house?” You asked. 

Tara looked to you, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, that is a good thought. So… unsub number one is killing the father while unsub number two is kidnapping the mom slash killing the child…” 

“No, that wouldn't work. Maybe it’s a group of three?” Spencer suggested. 

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged. 

You stepped into the child’s bedroom, scrunching your nose as a foul smell wafted under your nose. You walked around, covering your nose with your sleeve. You saw the blood on the bedsheets and nightstand table. 

“Looks like the unsubs all have the same MO’s,” you muttered. 

You opened the closet, seeing nothing but toys, clothes, and shoes. You closed the doors, looking around the walls, your heart sinking as you saw all the finger pantings and pictures of family and friends. You walked up to the wall, losing your balance as you tripped on a a long, soft object. 

You let out a yelp, falling on your shoulder. You groaned in pain, turning on your back while holding your injured side. You looked around for the object you tripped on, frowning as you couldn’t find it. Something pale caught the corner of your eyes. You raised your brow, getting up on your knees and moving closer. 

“What the —” You muttered, your voice getting caught in your throat as you realised it was an arm sticking out under the bed. “Oh, my —” You gasped, peering under the bed, seeing the dead body of one of the children. “Oh, my God!” You shouted, scooting back, your back hitting the wall as you stared at the lifeless body. Tears welled up in your eyes and you put your hand to your mouth, loud and broken sobs escaping your throat. 

The boy couldn’t have been more than a few days old, yet it was still lying there. You could see the lifelessness in his eyes, and still the fear. There was a slit across his throat and cheek, his upper chest red with with green and purple bruises. You felt nauseas and cold, your heart sinking all the way down past your stomach. Your body was shaking and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the body, no matter how hard you tried. 

You heard the footsteps of your colleagues, their voices calling your name. 

“Y/n, where are — O-Oh, my God.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw you crying on the floor. He immediately dropped down to his knees, taking you into his arms. “What happened.” 

You were unable to move, your eyes staring wide at the body. Spencer followed your gaze, his own heart dropping down to his chest. 

“Oh, man. Um,” Spencer said, looking away from the body and to you. His heart broke as he saw you so horrified. He put his hand on your cheek gently, turning your face so you were no longer looking at the body. “Let’s get you to out of here, alright?” 

You nodded slowly, your breaths becoming laboured as you tried to calm yourself down in Spencer’s arms. He got up, taking you with him. He walked you out of the room, coming face-to-face with Tara. 

“What happened?” Tara gasped. 

“Looks like the unsubs left the older boy. Tell the police officers, I need to get Y/n out of here,” Spencer said. 

Tara looked at you, nodding without hesitation. She let you two go, Spencer walking you down the stairs slowly. You exited the house, still taking heavy breathes as the image of the boy haunted your thoughts. Spencer gently got you seated into the car, buckling you in. He went to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting to drive. 

You two sat in the silence for thirty minutes while Spencer drove around. You looked at the window the whole time, your eyes glossy and strained from crying and keeping them open. Whenever you closed your eyes, even to just blink, flashes of the dead boy raced through your mind. Spencer waited patiently for you to speak, understanding how shocked and horrified you were. 

He parked in a Burger King parking lot, sighing and looking at you. He gingerly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to shrug him away. 

“Y/n,” he sighed. 

“No,” you grumbled. “Take me back.” 

“I think it would be smart if you took the day off. Seeing a dead body, especially a child’s and one you had no idea exited, can really throw you off. The first time I saw a dead body…. Man, I-I was sick to my stomach. I—” 

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, waving your hands in the hair. You looked at him, your chest heaving up and down. Your brows were furrowed and mouth open, your eyes glaring at him.  “Just shut up, Spencer!” 

His mouth went agape, hurt flashing though his eyes. He didn’t let your outburst  dampen his spirits, though. He knew you were embarrassed and still horrified, and that you didn’t like to feel belittled. So he gave you a small, comforting smile, taking your hands into his. You didn’t move away this time, but you avoided any and all eye contact. 

“I know how you feel, babe,” he sympathised. “Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and dry. 

He frowned and unbuckled, leaning closer to you. He put his hand on your chin, turning your head with strength and force. You eventually met his eyes, his smile dropping as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks once again, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“N-No, it’s not,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I’m so weak. I should’ve been ready. This is what I’ve been tra-trainging for and I suddenly turn into a freaking wuss? I-I… I… It’s so embarrassing!” You shoulders racked with sobs as you hung your head down to cry. 

“Oh, baby,” Spencer sighed, taking your head in both of his hands. He held your head up again, bringing his face close to yours. He put his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “It’s no embarrassing, alright? Your reaction was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a dead child’s body. Honestly, if you didn’t cry and freak out, I would be worried,” he chuckled. 

You gave him a watery smile, laughing with him. “Y-Yeah, I s-suppose,” you sniffled. “B-But,” you started. “I-It makes me look weak. And I don’t want to look weak, Spence. A-All my life I’ve been told —” 

He smiled widely, leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re not weak, Y/n. You never could be, even if you tried. You’re just human, and that’s fine. It’s amazing, honestly. You know, I am so proud of you, babe.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because today was your first day out on the field, and you did fantastic. It can only get better from here.” 

“Y-You really think so?” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“I know so,” he nodded confidently. “And it’s okay to show weakness, Y/n. No weakness is the real weakness.” 

“Such wise words,” you laughed. He laughed with you and he shrugged. “I try.” 

You laid your head back on the headrest, looking a him through tired eyes. “Thanks, Spencer. It really means a lot.” 

He nodded with a smile. “Of course, honey. Now, why don’t you say we get something to eat, then go back to the precinct?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sounds great.” 

He nodded and buckled himself back in, putting his hand on the gearshift and looking to you. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled shyly, heat scorching your cheeks. “Yeah, I know. You’ve already told me.” 

“Just making sure you know, baby.” 

———— 

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[sageandthestars]

how the marauders take their coffee

james

loves to buy all the weird fancy flavoured coffees and he is always surprised when they taste awful (‘how was i supposed to know nettle and rhubarb wasn’t a good flavour combination?’)

is such an annoyingly natural morning person he never needs coffee out of necessity, but caffeine actually helps him focus so he normally has a big mug at breakfast in the great hall and at lunch time too. no sugar, big splash of whole milk and never stirred - he likes to watch the milk marble and mix with the coffee much to everyone else’s amusement. dinner is a strict no-coffee zone because…well pre-existing ADHD driven insomnia + caffeine is not a good combo.

lily gave him one of those crappy plastic reusable costa cups on their first visit to muggle london together and he puts it in pride of place on his bedside table in their dorm room ever since. no matter how notoriously messy he may be, that cup gets dusted every weekend. almost every weekend at least.

sirius

wants everyone to think he’s an edgy black coffee drinker but secretly dumps like five sugar cubes in his cup when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching.

physically cannot function before midday if he hasn’t had a good few mugs (peter once bought him one of those awful millenial t-shirt’s that says ‘don’t talk to me before my morning coffee’ for christmas as a joke and to this day it’s the only thing he’ll wear to breakfast at the weekends when they don’t have to be in uniform).

LOVES iced coffee more than anything and by now the house elves have learned how to make frappes for him; 90% cream and syrup, just the way he likes them. it isn’t unusual to find him slumped over some half-finished homework the night before it’s due surrounded by glasses with drinks that had had no where near enough actual caffeine in them to keep him properly awake.

remus

obviously prefers coffee chocolate to actual coffee because, well duh it’s chocolate but especially after or before a rough moon he’ll be drinking buckets of the stuff to replace sleep…and an immune system.

prefers the smell and warmth to the taste and so a lot of the time he’ll just be sitting there with his hands wrapped around a steaming mug and not actually bothering to drink it at all. speaking of mugs, he has his own collection in his trunk and they’re all HUGE. like his criteria for a good mug is one he can hold in both hands without his fingertips touching.

puts a good spoonful of honey in each cup, but isn’t very good at gaging how much to fill them up and so most of his papers have big coffee-rings staining then from where he’s either overfilled or knocked over his mug with a lanky elbow.

when he has the time, he likes to go to the kitchen and make coffee from scratch, the muggle way because it reminds him of his mother. it’s a therapeutic, almost ritualistic thing for him as he grinds up the beans and waits for the water to boil in a pan on the stove (no kettles because of the whole no-electricity thing) and more than once sirius has walked in on him bent over a french press next to the house elves and just paused there, deciding to walk out in the end and leave him in peace with his memories.

peter

defo uses coffee as a coping mechanism during OWLs - “no remus i didn’t stay up ALL night, i swear i slept between like, 6 and 7am when i finished my potions revision” - and loves to use the cheap, nasty coffeemate creamer stuff. he can only get it from muggle supermarkets though, so he buys in bulk in the holidays and then hoards it all under his bed.

caffeine gives him really bad anxiety symptoms though, and after james noticed his hands shaking more than usual when they were ‘studying’ in the common room he took him into hogsmede that weekend and bought him a load of decaffinated pepper up potions to put in his pumpkin juice in the morning because ‘sometimes i’m too jittery to sleep but i can’t stay awake and i know how much it sucks to be that tired’.

that was when peter realised james was actually a lot more perceptive and caring than most people gave him credit for and the first time he cast a patronus he was thinking of the two of them sitting in the three broomsticks that afternoon, arms full of pepper-up potions with james listing off all of the peeves-safe routes inside the castle he liked to wander when he couldn’t sleep.

[sickonthedancefloor]

So... wrote more of the thing, got distracted by a lot of *just gestures at America*, decided to post what I had anyway. Tentative part one? Have fun~

Sickie: Hoseok Caretakers: Namjoon, Jin (so far)

Content: emeto, fevers, flu-like illness

The nap just felt like a bad idea once Hoseok woke up.

The band had finally concluded their fifth weekend in a row of concerts and they have two weeks before the next one, so some downtime would be absolutely appreciated. But sweaty, tired, with their ears still buzzing from the cheers and bones still jittery from caffeine and exhaustion, they needed to just get changed so they could make it back to the hotel for a good night's rest.

Eat, shower, sleep. It was their usual pattern, and one Hoseok had been completely used to. But for some reason he felt like he'd gone overboard today, and his entire body regretted it. After the concert, after the encore, after the staff made their way around the boys collecting sound equipment and disconnecting them from their mic monitors and congratulating each other on jobs well done--ARMY had loved the finale, Hoseok was just so glad it all went well--Hoseok had just gone to the green room and flopped on the couch. After a deep sigh, letting, and a mumble of thanks when he felt one of the noonas fanning him with one of their ARMY face-fans, he'd shut his eyes and... actually had fallen asleep, the adrenaline draining from his body at an alarming rate.

"Hobi-ah! Hobi-ah! You didn't even get up! Come on, it's time to go."

The fan was gone, and the noona who had been there, but an uncomfortable chill had taken over its place as Hoseok squinted his eyes open. The sweat felt caked on his face, like crust gathering at his eyes. His limbs felt like lead, and it took him a few moments to register the voice. Honestly, he couldn't place the light trill until he saw Jimin appear before him, the younger singer's hand finding his shoulder.

"Come on, hero. Sejin-nim found us a ramen restaurant."

Hobi groaned. Food, while advisable and very necessary, just felt like an uncomfortable afterthought. He wasn't in the mood to eat, much less get up, but given the temperature drop in the room he kind of wished he had grabbed his hoodie.

"Jimin, have you seen my jacket?" was what Hoseok attempted to say. It came out more along the lines of, 'Jimiiii, m' jacket?' But Jimin's expression seemed clouded as he looked at him.

"You're cold? But it's so warm here..."

Hoseok nodded. He finally pushed himself to sit up, but the effort it took had him leaning forward to drop his head against Jimin's arm, his back protesting. He just felt so sore. Did he overdo it at the concert?

"Hobi... You're kinda warm."

"Mm... no, cold."

Hoseok really needed to wake up more. He normally felt tired after concerts, but this just felt painfully excessive. He lifted his head, looking towards the floor when he spotted a fresh water bottle. Perfect. Taking the water bottle, he opened it and just drank a solid third. It was lukewarm, which wasn't the tastiest, but it felt needed, refreshing. Maybe he was just a little dehydrated, some food and good sleep would help.

"Hobi... are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired, Jiminie... Just really, really tired."

---

The mere idea of dinner didn't seem to sit well with Hoseok either. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep until he felt Jin shaking his shoulder gently. He blearily opened his eyes to find Jin leaning over him, a smile growing on his hyung's face once they made eye contact.

"Come on, Hobi, dinner!" Jin cheered lightly.

With just a grown, Hoseok shut his eyes again. He really didn't want to get up. His head and his limbs felt like led, and his stomach just felt uncomfortable. But Jin's strong arms tugged at him until he budged from his seat, and he had no choice but to get up and follow along. Once out of the car, Jin paused to look at him for a moment, his grin faltering.

"You look... I don't know. Are you okay?"

"I think I just went harder during the concert than I usually do," Hoseok mumbled. He leaned over, his head dropping on Jin's shoulder. Jin promptly wrapped an arm around his side, hugging him close to him. It was comforting, warm in a way Jin always was, firm and supportive and kind. Hoseok smiled, eyes blinking heavily. "Hyung, don't let me go, I might fall asleep here."

That brought a soft, hiccupy laugh out of Jin. "Aaahhh Hobiiii, don't fall asleep standing! At least get some soup!"

Jin didn't let them dawdle longer in the cold air and he walked Hoseok inside. Limbs barely dragging along, Hoseok followed Jin to their private back room where the remainder of the band had already been seated. The room was cold, and Hoseok could feel a chill the moment he slid into his chair. He could already feel Jin's eyes focused back on him--his eldest hyung, always so observant over the smallest of things--but he pointedly stared towards the menu and attempted to focus on it.

That was until he felt two hands grip his beanie, but the hands merely pulled the hat further down to cover his ears. That.. made a lot more sense, honestly. It was warmer, having the beanie pressed snugly onto his neck, but the light material against his ears muffled the noise of the restaurant. When Hoseok looked up, he caught Jin's light smile before the older man turned to his own menu.

"It's kinda chilly in here," came Jin's only explanation.

Hoseok couldn't fight the small smile off his own face as he returned his eyes downward. He honestly was not hungry, which wasn't too surprising for him. After concerts, Hoseok usually felt rather peckish but never outright starving. A bowl of ramen or a salad could hold him over until breakfast, when he was prepared to eat everything under the sun. With a small yawn, he took a sip of the water provided and tried to tune into the conversation happening.

It was another animated night of Jungkook and Taehyung reenacting something goofy that had occurred during the concert when they were allowed to just let loose and have fun. Today's silly song had been Love Maze, which had ended up with an impromptu dance move between Jungkook, Hoseok and Jin, and Hoseok smiled down at his menu as he recalled the memory. The concert had honestly been a ton of fun, and ARMY had loved it. It had just taken too much out of him. Had he gone overboard? He couldn't even remember, but he didn't regret it regardless. He heard his name passed around, and an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Hoseok didn't waste time leaning into the embrace, humming softly at the sudden warmth... Jimin, he was pleased to see.

"Rest on me, hyung, I'll nudge you when the waiters come," Jimin spoke softly.

Hobi nodded, and as much as he wanted to just rest his eyes, he couldn't help but fall asleep on his roommate's shoulder.

---

"I think he has a fever," Jin said softly over his dinner.

Jimin had moved Hoseok from laying on his shoulder to resting his head against his thigh, and Hoseok's mouth had fallen open a bit from the change. His breathing was raspy, and as Jimin placed a hand on his cheek, he frowned as he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so too," Jimin answered. "He probably pushed himself too hard at the concert, he seemed completely exhausted when it was done."

"I was wondering about that," Namjoon chimed in as he sipped a beer. He fiddled with the plastic bag of Hoseok's to-go order of ramen--they just ordered it to-go when they first picked their meals, no one wanting to wake the dancer. It was late, and it wasn't completely uncommon for them to be too exhausted to eat, but it was a rare occurrence to see their leading dancer and team sunshine so drained. Being sick just made more sense. "Hoseok's usually still fussing over everyone after a concert, I was downright concerned when I caught him sleeping."

"Hopefully it just passes by tonight," Jin mumbled. "It could just be overheating. We worked hard during the concert."

The others nodded in agreement. Namjoon couldn't help but reach a hand to Hoseok's cheek and press his fingers against soft skin. Maybe it was just temporary, he had to tell himself; but the heat radiating against him worried him nonetheless. "I'll stop by a drugstore on the way back just in case. I don't think we've got anything in the hotel, do we?"

Jimin and Jungkook both shook their heads. Usually at least one of them had extra painkillers or various cold or throat lozenges, but he imagines they left everything in the hands of the staff. The energy seemed to dwindle after that; they were all tired, but having their J-Hope asleep and as cause for concern, they didn't seem to be as in the mood anymore. They quickly finished, and as Yoongi took care of the payments, Namjoon and Jimin tasked themselves with waking the poor young man.

"Hobi, c'mon, we're going back," Jimin tried to coax. For the first minute, Hoseok didn't respond at all, but it wasn't until Namjoon's hand tugged on his arm that he groaned, something small and pitiful.

"Hobi, c'mon." Namjoon tugged his arm again, and Hoseok tried to pull away as he blinked open his eyes.

Wait... He glanced over, taking in the decor of their booth in the shop, to Namjoon's face, brows scrunched in worry and lips pointed downward, and it dawned on him that he was still in the ramen shop. Namjoon was just relieved to see realization slowly coming back to him, as Jimin's hands found his shoulders and helped him upright.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Jimin murmured. "We're tired."

We. Collectively. Less room for Jung Hoseok to argue, and Jimin knew it. If he were to point out that Hoseok was tired, he probably would have gotten an argumentative response, something along the lines of being able to finish the night if they had more tasks, or wanted to explore. But we meant it continued more than just him, went to names he wasn't even familiar with and asked for 'rest'. We tonight meant the entire band. And honestly, it wasn't a complete exacerbation--he himself was feeling drained, and he could see exhaustion drooping on all of his hyungs. How Jungkook and Taehyung were still going strong was beyond him.

"Back to the hotel?" Hoseok asked, voice small and shaky. He just stared owlishly between Namjoon and Jimin, as if trying to discover some forbidden secret.

"That's right, Hobi," Namjoon answered. "Come on, back to the hotel."

The next morning, Hoseok just felt worse. That Monday was their first day off, and usually the staff let them partner or split up and explore the city. They didn't get a lot of opportunities during the weekends of the concert, but the next two days, if not spent in the rooms, were often spent shopping and seeing fun sights. Hoseok remembered vaguely telling Taehyung he'd go with him to the aquarium last night, he thinks (did he imagine it?), and he remembered something about a really neat store downtown, but the rest seemed vague and disjointed. Did he really agree to go out today? With limbs that didn't seem to move on their own anymore? This was difficult...

His head felt completely stuffed with cotton, heavy and plugged up like no other. His nose was stuffy, sinuses enflamed and swollen--and it came with not only a dull headache but an uncomfortable fog that seemed to just cloud his thoughts. His ears didn't feel like they worked right. Really, none of him felt right. Not completely focused, all he could think were two words upon waking: 'So tired'. He could barely breathe, and after two very uncomfortable, forced sniffs, he merely opened his mouth to take in more air.

Hoseok's phone buzzed next to him. Then twice, three times.

Groaning, he stretched a hand out to find where it had moved to last night, limb moving lazily across the comforter. Honestly, Hoseok doesn't think he charged it at all, but it definitely came from somewhere around the bed. However, after a few minutes of futile searching, he merely gave up and allowed the uncomfortable haze to take him under.

The brief nap didn't seem to last long at all. There was some sharp knocking, and someone's deep voice calling his name, rather cautiously. A minute or so later, he heard the lock click and the door slid open.

"Hobi, you alive yet?"

Ah, Namjoon. Hoseok forgot he'd given him the extra room key.

Hoseok groaned, turning to the side. His mouth felt dry, and his limbs were heavy. He didn't want to get up yet, that felt like too much energy. And for someone who could run nearly nonstop on one Americano? That was saying something.

"Hobi? You're still not feeling great, Hoseok?"

With an incoherent grumble, Hoseok nodded. He hadn't even opened his eyes, didn't want to risk upsetting his head even further. There was a thick, consistent pounding that he immediately wanted to sleep off. He heard Namjoon's steps approach and stop, and soon long fingers had begun carding through his fringe. Then Namjoon's cool hand pressed against his forehead, and Hoseok shivered--why was he so cold?

"You're still warm... guess you didn't sleep it off like we hoped," Namjoon murmured.

Sleep it off? Hoseok had to take a moment to try and recall what made him feel so lousy in the first place. He remembered falling asleep at dinner, but even returning to his room seemed hazy. Brows furrowed, Hoseok merely looked at Namjoon, eyes squinted, as if trying to search for the answers. He wasn't sure what happened--hell, he wasn't even sure if Namjoon knew. But the look on their leader's face, that heavy-set frown and pensive eyes, Namjoon certainly must have figured it out.

"We should have had you take some medicine last night." His hand raked through Hoseok's sweaty bangs, pushing them from his forehead. His touch was gentle and cautious, and his simple motions lulled Hoseok into closing his eyes, nearly dozing again. He could just figure it out later, really... This felt nice.

"Ah--" Namjoon's hand froze. How long had it been? "Hobi, wake up!"

"Mm?" Hoseok grunted in response, but didn't move from his spot. Namjoon's hand moved away, the younger boy scooting back a little. With a frown, Hoseok moved a hand over to grab Namjoon's wrist. His grip was clammy and warm, not strong at all, but he didn't meet any resistance. Hoseok dragged Namjoon's hand closer, ignoring as Namjoon's fingers whacked his sore nose, resting only when he dropped the hand right atop his head.

'Keep going,' The message was clear. 'Don't stop, it feels nice.' Being sick made sense. It honestly explained everything: the headache, the clamminess, the chills. Even exhaustion--a concert wouldn't take this much out of him, would it?

With the chuckle from Namjoon, but those familiar fingers soon find themselves pressing into his hair again, and Hoseok decides he doesn't care. He lets himself succumb to sleep once more.

---

That was unexpected. Hoseok relaxed far too fast under Namjoon's hand, and only seconds seemed to pass before he could hear soft, congested snoring from the older '94-liner. That was worrisome, especially since Hoseok didn't seem to have a problem yesterday. Did this all come along after the concert? Or had he been hiding it? It took Namjoon a moment as he tried to recall the details of the day, but with last-minute arrangements, costume changing, makeup, stage rehearsal... There was no way to tell.

Worried, he moved his hand to Hoseok's shoulder and shook, concerned Hoseok may have actually passed out in weakness. Hoseok grimaced at the shaking, trying to tuck himself further into his blanket. Okay... so he just fell asleep. Namjoon sighed, and with another ruffle of Hoseok's hair, he pulled out his own phone and immediately scrolled through the contacts to their beloved eldest hyung. He didn't even bother with text and pressed the 'dial' button immediately.

Seokjin didn't take long to answer at all. "Joon-ah, my friend! Where are you? You're missing breakfast, I'm going to eat your share if you don't come for it!"

That got a soft snort out of Namjoon. "There's a reason. Do you have the medicine in your room? I think Hobi's sick, he hasn't gotten out of bed."

The joking tone to Seokjin's voice dropped immediately. "I was afraid of that... Does he have a fever? Is he coughing?"

"He feels like he has a fever," Namjoon answered. "Haven't heard any coughing or sneezing, but he went right back to sleep really quickly."

Seokjin sighed. "Hopefully it's not too bad yet... Hang on, I'm gonna finish up here and grab the bag in the room. Just keep an eye on him until I get there."

"Alright, hyung, I'll be here."

As they disconnected, Namjoon sighed and opened up the group chat, then closed it. No use worrying the others yet. Instead, he switched to the chat with their manager, sending a quick message about his teammate's condition. The near-immediate response he received offered help if they needed it, and just said to keep him updated. Namjoon sent a thumbs-up response before drawing over the chair from the hotel's desk, dropping into it.

Leave it to Hoseok to save getting sick for after the concert. At least it was convenient timing.

"You need to tell us when you don't feel well, you silly," he mumbled, though a fond smile fell as he reached over to pet Hoseok's hair. With his free hand, he just opened up the internet and mindlessly checked his emails.

Thankfully, the wait wasn't long at all. Fifteen minutes later, and Namjoon let in a worried Seokjin who had a bag from the hotel's convenient store, a cup of something hot, and a small RJ pouch from his room. Namjoon picked up the pouch.

"Seriously, how much RJ stuff do you own, hyung?"

"Aish, Joonie, don't worry about how much RJ stuff I own!" Jin bickered playfully as he pulled items out of the bag. Fever patches, cough syrup, pepto, a bottled sprite, a few tea bags from downstairs, and even some cracker packages. Namjoon peeked into the RJ bag to find throat lozenges, painkillers, bandaids... even a small thermometer.

"The thermometer is from Sejin-nim," said Jin, and he held his hand out.

Namjoon handed it to him. The last minute inventory was a pretty good set. "Guess... let's wake him up again and see what he's feeling."

Jin nodded. He kneeled next to the bed and gently shook the dancer. He moved the blanket back, and sighed at the forlorn look the younger one gave him.

"Seokkie-ah! Come on sunshine, wake up for a little bit."

Jin?

Hoseok hummed in confusion as he attempted to turn himself onto his back. His blanket felt positively stifling now, and he was getting sweaty. He grimaced, honestly feeling uncomfortably warm as he tried to push it away. Jin helped by pulling it down to his waist, but soon that large hand pressed against his forehead again.

"You're not kidding. He's roasting. Seok-ah, how are you feeling?"

Hoseok's eyes opened, but he grimaced and shut them again. Everything seemed to spin the moment he tried to look, and it turned his stomach immediately. He curled in on his side, bringing a hand to his head.

"Bad headache?" Jin asked softly.

"Mmhmm..."

"Feeling anything else? Sore throat, upset stomach? Give us something to work with."

"But... day off," Hoseok croaked. His voice sounded hoarse, and he looked completely drained. "No working."

Namjoon snorted. "You got jokes on your sickbed. Can't be that bad."

With a smile that soon turned into a grimace, Hoseok shook his head.

...then promptly leaned over the bed and vomited. Jin barely moved back in time, but didn't manage to avoid side splatter on his shoes. Namjoon was quick with grabbing the wastebin from the desk and moving it under Hoseok's face, grimacing as the dancer gagged up another hot mouthful of sick. Jin moved to the side of the bed, rubbing Hoseok's back.

"There, just get it out..."

And get it out he did. Hoseok barely had time to take a breath in before he heaved forward again, choking out mouthfuls of thick, clustered vomit. Jin held him up by his shoulders when he noticed Hoseok's arm shaking under his own weight holding him up, and he continued to mumble reassurances until he began to slow down.

"Deep breath in, Seokkie," Jin coaxed, pulling Hoseok back from the basket. "You're done. You can't have that much more in you."

Hoseok frowned. "I--" Hoseok grimaced, voice raw. He took a moment before trying again. "I got it on you, Jinnie?"

"No, I'm fine." Jin stroked his hair. "C'mon, rinse your mouth out and then you can lie down again."

Namjoon already had a water bottle open, and Jin took it from him to help Hoseok take a sip. After swishing it around, Hoseok spit it out in the trash bin before collapsing onto the pillow behind him. Grimacing, Namjoon carried the bin to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and the bathroom's bin. He placed the towel on the mess, siently apologizing to the cleaning staff, and attempted to clean it up a little. Bile was gross, especially when it had an especially sick smell to it, but it wasn't the worst he's dealt with. He didn't get sick sympathetically--honestly, it was a small blessing, given how often colds and bugs passed around them. He'd grabbed a washcloth, and secretly handed that to Jin. Jin flashed him a grateful smile and began to wipe his shoes off.

"Well, that made for an eventful morning. Hoseok-ah, I guess in a little while, you should try some tea and then medicine. It's going to hurt your stomach more taking it while empty."

Groaning, Hoseok reached for the blanket and pulled it back to his chest. He just felt chilled to the bone now. He just wanted to sleep, see if perhaps it would go away on its own. He didn't realize he had been mumbling it aloud until he felt Jin's hand comb through his hair and his hyung sighed.

"Seokkie, that's not going to help at all. Come on, just a few sips."

"Nooo..." But it sounded small and pathetic. And Jin wasn't going to have any of it. Without much prompting, Jin's hands wrapped around his shoulders and guided him up, moving him to lay against his shoulder. But before being handed anything, Hoseok could feel something cool tapping his lips.

"Open up, put this under your tongue."

That didn't require much. Hoseok obliged, eyes closed, leaving it for Jin and Namjoon to handle on their own. Namjoon though, had frozen in his clothing, as he caught sight of the numbers climbing up. And up. 38... 38.5... 38.9... 39...

"Aish, Hoseokkie..."

It finally beeped, blinking on 39.3 C.

"It's this high already?" Jin pulled it from Hoseok's lips. "Joonie, grab one of those compresses for him. Hobi..."

Jin moved, and Hoseok grimaced again--Jin had leaned over, and his sense of balance shifted with him. He righted himself, and Hoseok, and lifted the mug to his lips. "Here, drink."

With a soft whimper, Hoseok carefully took sips of the tea. The warmth came with a strangely comforting feeling, soothing on his throat and actually settling against his empty stomach. It was weird, but he had to appreciate it. It wasn't long before he could feel the cool gel sensation against his forehead as he felt Namjoon smoothing a patch against his forehead. It was chilled and uncomfortable, but as he shivered, he could feel Namjoon setting another one on at the nape of his neck.

"Aigooooo," he whines.

Jin just laughs and strokes his hair. "You're really sick, Seokkie. These should help."

But before Hoseok could get comfortable, Jin jolted him again. "Try to take a pill before you fall asleep."

There was a whine of apprehension that surprised even Hoseok, and he looked up at Jin with unsure, squinted eyes. Namjoon had turned off the light again, leaving just a bit of light from the hotel windows. That definitely helped with the headache, but Hoseok wasn't sure if he was ready to try a pill.

"Try? Try for Hyungie?"

There was another whine, but Hoseok held a shaky hand out, curled fingers trying to uncurl. He'd try, at least once. Namjoon was quick to pop a cold and flu tablet from the packaging and place in his hand, and Jin placed a water bottle to his lips. Hoseok made quick work of swallowing the pill, before laying down. He made a beckoning hand again.

"Eh? But you took it, Hobi-ah, you're okay."

Hoseok's fingers clashed again. Namjoon laughed, but Hoseok was too exhausted to gripe about it.

"He wants you to give him your hand," Namjoon translated the gesture.

"OH. Oh, okay." Jin placed his hand in Hoseok's, and Hoseok moved the hand to the top of his head. An unspoken request--pet my hair please. Namjoon chuckled, but he wasted no time in running his fingers along Hoseok's scalp, lulling the dancer back to sleep.

Unfortunately, dozing only lasted a few seconds before his stomach flipped, and Hoseok's eyes widened. He didn't want to throw up again, not on the floor at least... As he attempted to sit up, he swayed the opposite way and found himself suddenly braced in someone's steady arms. The wastebin was handed to him, and he tilted his head down, a mouthful of bile and the little water he drank escaping into it already. Gasping, he pressed a hand over his stomach as a painful cramp waved through him, bringing with it another mouthful. Hoseok gagged and coughed out another long stream, of leftover food from somewhere deep within him and stomach acid. It honestly hurt his throat, and he could feel his eyes stinging with tears from the pain.

Jin's arms just held Hoseok tightly as his body convulsed, a nearly gutteral sound escaping as he retched. There really wasn't anything left in him, and yet his body felt like it needed to purge out whatever viral affliction was plaguing him.

From Namjoon: "Hobi, take a breath!"

Hoseok retched again, then opened his mouth and tried to just take a breath in. It came in as a strangled gasp, mouth open as spit drained from his lips. Another attempt and he managed to settle the urge to vomit again, at least. Namjoon borught the water bottle back to his lips.

"Here, rinse."

Ah... Hoseok followed the instructions easily, letting Namjoon hold the bottle as he brought it to his mouth and swished the liquit about, before spitting it in the can. Namjoon moved the trash can to the floor and ran a hand through Hoseok's sweat-damp hair as Hoseok slumped against Jin.

"It's okay, you stopped," he said softly. "So... I guess that was too much."

Hoseok whimpers. "I'unna lie down..."

Jin laughed but helped ease him to the pillow, draping the covers over his shoulders. He lay on his side, grimacing as another cramp rippled through his stomach.

Jin rubbed his shoulder softly. "Try to rest while you can, okay? We're staying here with you."

"Mm... okay. Don't leave." And with that, Hoseok let sleep overtake him once again.

Jin frowned as he looked up at Namjoon again. What were they going to do now?

[birdy-bat-writes]

Damian Wayne - Civilian crime solver

Request: Could you do headcanons or a scenario about Damian with a friend or s/o that is really into mysteries and goes around investigating cases even though they're really in over their head? Bonus points for shenanigans. Thank you!

Of course, amazing Anon! Great suggestion! And hey, why do friends or lovers when we can do both?? ;) I hope you enjoy this!

A/N: Um… My Headcanons are basically just fanfictions with sentences that don’t flow into paragraphs. I split it into 2 parts. I Really liked writing this one though. I love Damian. This one came out kinda angsty though, sorry about that. But it has a sweet ending.

Part 2 here

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-       You met Damian when you both were in the sixth grade. He was quite the indignant 11-year-old. Unfortunately for you, this fellow was your lab partner for the year.

-       You noticed his distaste for most people, but he didn’t have it with you. You couldn’t have known at the time, but the reason for that was that you were the only person in the room Damian saw as someone of equal intellect. It was the way you were organized and level-headed. You were independent and self-sufficient.

-       Truth be told, the only major difference between your mindsets was that you weren’t as cocky.

-       Made sense though, since your mother was an environmental toxicologist. Your home was pretty full of science equipment since you could remember. You were always curious as a child, and of course your proud mother encouraged it and taught you bit-by-bit how to use the tools. You idolized her and your father, who passed away when you were younger.

-       Over the course of your partnership with Damian, you grew to tolerate each other, and then even enjoy each other’s company. By the time You were both 12, you had a pretty solid friendship.

-       You discovered this when he invited you over to his house for his birthday and his family nearly choked, had a stroke, or checked if you were a robot. He had to explain to you that he didn’t bring friends over very often.

-       “I made an exception for you because you are far closer to me than anyone else and I enjoy your company.”

-       You guys hang out all the time now and talk about personal stuff and just joke about things. It makes you really happy when Damian laughs. He often found himself thinking about how much more often he’s been doing it since he met you.

-       “Hey, what do you want to be when you grow up, Dames?”

-       “Well, I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps.” You assumed that meant running Wayne Enterprises. You were half right.

-       “I want to be a detective.”

-       “Really?”

-       “Yeah, like my dad was.”

-       “He’d be proud of you.”

-       You had a love for forensics and special permission from your chemistry teacher to use the advanced chem lab after school. You were her TA after all, and Damian used that time to sit with you and chat while you worked.

-       “Y/N, what are you analyzing?”

-       “Um… It’s a mud sample.”

-       “From?

-       “The Gotham botanical gardens.”

-       “Why?” Why are you analyzing dirt from Poison Ivy’s crime scene from last night?

-       “Promise you won’t freak out?” He nodded. “I heard on the news that Poison Ivy was using monster plants to terrorize people. And they looked kind of like yellow trumpet vines you find a in the Gotham gardens. I was just checking the dirt for any chemicals that could have altered the plant growth.”

-       Damian was stunned and speechless. Something he experienced rarely, if ever. “Y/N, messing with this stuff is dangerous. maybe you should let Batman and the GCPD handle this.”

-       “Come on, Dami. Please don’t say that. I want to do this; I want to help people. If I figure this out first, I can tell the GCPD.”

-       “I’m just worried for your safety.” He couldn’t deny that your work was brilliant, but he couldn’t let you put yourself in harm’s way either.

-       “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

-       He ultimately told you it was alright with him if you were careful. What he meant by that was that he was going to spy on you and keep you away from any and everything that was dangerous.

-       Robin would follow you to your house from the shadows to make sure you got home safe and Damian would check in with you on your files. As your determination to solve cases increased, his desire to ask you why increased as well.

-       “I just think it’s fun, Damian.” Wow you were a bad liar.

-       “There’s more to it.”

-       “What?”

-       “Why are you actually doing this?”

-       “Because I want to.” You were sterner this time. Damian noticed and decided to drop it for now. He offered to walk you home like he usually did but you declined.

-       That night, you decided to investigate a lead you didn’t tell Damian about. It led you an abandoned building in old Gotham. You were scanning the second floor for anything out of the ordinary until you heard a voice approaching from the corner.

-       You ran into the nearest room and hid. The voices were getting closer. “Falcone wants this job done tonight. Don’t f*** up.” You were terrified.

-       Suddenly, your mouth was covered by a green gloved hand. You wanted to yell but you heard him shush you. You turned quietly to meet eyes with a domino mask. It was Robin. You didn’t have enough time to process everything that happened but at the end of it all you ended up on the sidewalk next to an ambulance and police cars.

-       Deciding you had enough for one day, you headed home.

-       The next day at school you seemed quiet and so did Damian. At the end, you walked over to Damian to ask if he wanted to hang out.

-       “Not at the lab.”

-       “Okay… we can watch a movie if you want.”

-       “Alright.”

-       “Cool. I’ll just go get my stuff.” He saw you walking in the direction of the lab and something sparked in him. He stopped you.

-       “I’ll get it.”

-       “What? I can get it. It’s fine.”

-       “Just stay here, Y/N.” He was a bit too curt for your liking.

-       “Don’t tell me what to do.”

-       “Just listen to me for once.”

-       “Why are you being like this?!”

-       It turned into a yelling match. Damian’s emotions got the better of him and it ended with a “You could have died last night!”

-       Tip of the hat to him *clap* *clap*. That’s how you found out he was Robin.

-       It made sense really. You shared a heartfelt conversation about how he trusted you but he didn’t want you getting hurt. He knew what it was like out there and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.

-       You promised to keep his secret and he made a compromise with you; you could help him with forensics for his cases with Batman as long as you never went out into the field.

-       Then you went an watched the movie you wanted to.

-       “Hey Dames, I need to tell you something.” He turned his head to you. “You had asked earlier why I was so obsessed with the cases… my dad died investigating Falcone’s drug cartel. I guess got a bit too into it… I just thought you deserved to know.” You shared a look of sympathy and for the first time in your friendship, he hugged you. It held for a while, but it wasn’t awkward, just comforting, as if you both said that you were there for each other.

-       Skip to the point where your working with him and Batman was normal. Well… as normal as it could get. You and Damian blew the Batcave circuit breaker. Twice.

-       You would always get results before Bruce managed to figure out how. Tim liked you specifically because you could make Bruce look very confused.

-       You and Damian would pass notes in class in code about new information from cases. It started to make people gossip about you two. It didn’t help that you both always stayed back late together and showed up to class alone, before anyone else.

-       It began to scare people because Damian doesn’t bother to spend time with other humans but with you, he like?? Willingly?? Does it??

-       You would work late nights with the boys and keep track of how much sleep they each were getting. If anyone fell too short, you sent them up to bed. It actually backfired on you once because you were very sleep-deprived and didn’t want to admit it, so Jason picked you up and dragged you to your room in the manor while Tim and Dick smiled cheekily. “Oh, how the turntables.” ;D

-       Damian would sleep when you forced him, but he would still have his days. He believed he was above sleeping???

-       This boy refuses to admit he’s tired. Even when he looks like a jittery racoon. So, you bring him hot chocolate in the mornings, (courtesy of Alfred) with a hint of a lot of caffeine (courtesy of Tim).

-       Ever since you started spending so much time at the manor, you got much closer with Damian and his brothers. You felt a sense of family and care there.

-       Your favorite nights were the ones where your mom would let you sleep over and you would stay late in the cave working with Damian. The serenity of the cave and the faint glow of the computers always made it feel like some alternate plane of existence.

-       “Alright, Sherlock, you’ve been obsessed with this case for three days now. Let the computers do their work and take a nap.”

-       “Dami, I’m too ‘thinky’ to sleep.”

-       “’Thinky’?” you nodded and giggled at your superior use of vocabulary. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

-       You detected a hint of mischief in his voice and followed him up the cave staircase to the top of a ledge. He pulled a rope ladder out from behind the ledge and gestured for you to climb it.

-       You glanced at him once before hoisting yourself up and climbing onto the rocky surface. You looked up and the sight took your breath away. The ledge was a flat floor of the cave that overlooked the waterfall from the inside. If you looked down, you could see the dancing currents on the lower levels of the cave. The air was misty and cool, and you honestly had no idea that there was a view like this anywhere in the manor.

-       “You like it?”

-       “Its so beautiful.” You said, your voice full of awe. Damian sat down on the floor, against the cave wall and patted the ground next to him. He wanted to say something. Just regular makings of conversation, like the ones you always had. This time, for the first time, he felt like he didn’t know what to say to you, so opted to look at you.

-       The way the water reflected light on the cave walls made patterns of hazy light. The glow hit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. For the first time since he had met you, Damian saw you in a completely new way. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t opposed to it either.

-       You broke the silence with, “You know, ever since I met you, and your family, I’ve never been happier.”

-       You looked back at him. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies and fireworks all at once.

[sneezehq]

Broken then Mended

"Do you know how much it hurts to see your friends hurting and to not be able to do anything about it?"

Just an idea that has been bouncing around in my head for a while, since I felt like it was unfair for Ruby to get pushed out of talking to Yang and Weiss like that when she's been trying so hard to help. Set in volume 5, right after Yang and Weiss reunite with Ruby. Enjoy!

Steam is pouring off the surface of the scalding water in the sink, but Ruby hardly even notices the heat as she plunges a dish into the water and starts to scrub furiously. She's using far more force than necessary to clear the remnants of dinner off the plate she's holding, but again, she barely notices. Her mind is too focused on the events of the day, especially the conversation she'd overheard between Yang and Weiss.

Yang snapping at her had stung, but Ruby has known her sister long enough to not be surprised when her sister's temper flares. Sure, some small, selfish part of her might be tired of getting yelled at by her sister when she's only trying to help, but she'll get over it. It's fine.

No, what's not fine is having her sister shove her away and refuse to tell her what's wrong, only to hear her break down and explain everything to Weiss. And it wasn't just that Ruby had just had bad timing—Yang had snapped at Weiss when she'd knocked on the door, assuming that the other girl was Ruby and insisting that she still didn't want to talk.

But despite her insistence, her sister had been more honest with Weiss than Ruby has even seen her—than her sister has ever been with her. Maybe it's silly, but deep down, that really hurts.

And really, Ruby is being selfish. She should be happy, really, to see Yang and Weiss bonding. They've always been the two members of team RWBY that hadn't gotten along so well. It's nice to see that they've gotten closer.

But it still hurts, to know that after all her efforts to reach out and be a good friend and a reliable leader and partner, that Weiss still won't come to her when she's having problems like this. And to know that despite how much time has passed and how much Ruby tries to prove herself, her sister still insists on pushing her away and putting up a façade in front of her.

She sets down the now-very clean plate with more force than necessary. It thuds loudly as it collides with the countertop. Whoops. She grabs a half-full glass, dumping its remaining contents in the sink and prepares to scrub it as well.

The glass shatters in her hand. Ruby blinks in surprise. She must have been gripping it too tightly, and now it's been reduced to a pile of glass shards at her feet. Blood trickles down her thumb; she must have been nicked by one of the broken pieces. She sticks the injured finger in her mouth and crouches to pick up the mess. She'd better clean this up and quickly finish the rest of the dishes so she can get to bed.

It's been a long day. She hadn't slept well last night, after all the excitement of Yang and Weiss' return, and she'd woken up way too early. She'll feel better after she gets some rest.

Unfortunately, she doesn't feel any better in the morning. She sleeps badly, interrupted by the now-usual nightmares about the Fall of Beacon, and once again finds herself waking with the sunrise, unable to fall back asleep. She hopes that this isn't the start of a new routine.

But with the threat of Salem on the horizon, there's no time for breaks or excuses. So, Ruby pushes her exhaustion aside and drinks several cups of coffee in an attempt to feel more awake before heading to the dojo to join the others for training.

The coffee doesn't help. The caffeine just leaves her feeling jittery, without even making so much as a dent in her exhaustion. Bummer. Still, Ruby didn't come this far just to let her friends down.

She volunteers to spar first, hoping that she'll feel a little better once she gets moving, and finds herself facing off against Jaune, their friends watching eagerly from the sidelines. She shakes her head to clear it, before getting into a proper fighting stance, fists at the ready.

It still feels strange, fighting without Crescent Rose.

Jaune ends up making the first move, and they quickly fall into their usual routine, trading blows as they make their way back and forth across the floor of the training room. Yang and Nora cheer loudly for their respective teammates, but Ruby does her best to ignore the distraction and focus on maintaining a good hand to hand technique.

Everything seems to be going well, and Ruby has just spotted an opening and is preparing to move in when Jaune abruptly lunges forward, sweeping her legs out from under her and sending her crashing to the ground. She curses under her breath and attempts to struggle to her feet, glancing up at Jaune to see how much time she has to recover.

And for a moment, it's not Jaune standing over her, but Mercury, taunting her and preventing her from helping Pyrrha and Penny. Mingled terror and fury fills her veins.

"Leave me alone!" she shrieks, lunging to her feet. With one swift move, she shoves him and sends him stumbling back. Good.

"Ruby?" Mercury says, but his voice doesn't sound quite right. She blinks, freezing in place, and suddenly Mercury is replaced with Jaune. The blonde is frowning at her, eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I—" Ruby feels like she's been knocked off her feet again, like the world around her is unsteady. It's obvious that Mercury isn't here, he never was, but it had felt so real. "I'm fine," she replies weakly.

She wishes that everyone would stop staring at her. It feels like the walls are closing in around her.

"Are you sure?" The question makes Ruby jump, even though Weiss' voice is quiet. Her partner looks—afraid. Whether it's for Ruby—or of her—she can't be sure. Beside her, Nora is looking at Ruby with wide eyes, and Yang opens her mouth to say something—

It's too much. It's all just too much. She can't be here right now. Before her friends can say anything else, Ruby summons her semblance, vanishing in a cloud of rose petals.

She doesn't stop running until she's back in her room. She just—she needs to be alone right now. She ignores the cloud of rose petals fluttering around her feet as she rematerializes, slamming the door behind her and locking it. She even shoves a chair in front of it for good measure, before diving into bed and curling into a tiny ball, pulling the blankets over her head as if they can somehow shield her from what just happened.

Hopefully, the others will take the hint and just leave her alone for a bit. She just needs a few minutes to get herself under control, figure out what happened, without everyone staring at her like she's some kind of zoo animal.

After all, they're always so intent on making sure that she gives them space when they're upset. Surely, they'll be willing to do the same for her.

And anyway, she doesn't even need to talk about it, she's totally fine, really. It's only been a few minutes and already her breathing is starting to slow down. She's not shaking anymore. A few more minutes and she'll be ready to go face the others, reassure them that she's okay, that they don't need to worry—

Her train of thought is interrupted by a loud bang.

Someone is knocking loudly on the door. Very loudly. So much for giving her space.

"Ruby!" her sister demands. "Open up!"

Ruby's sigh is smothered by the blankets. She debates ignoring Yang, staying silent and pretending not to hear her sister.

"Ruby?" Weiss' voice is softer, more hesitant. "Are you okay? We were worried about you, after what happened earlier."

She sighs again. Great. They both came after her. She better respond before either Yang breaks down the door or everyone else comes to check on her. Or both.

"I'm fine, guys."

Her sister snorts. "C'mon, Ruby, none of us are going to buy that right now. We all saw how you freaked out back there."

"You looked like you saw a ghost," Weiss says gently. "I know it's hard, but can you try to tell us what happened?"

It's a nice idea, but difficult to go along with when Ruby herself isn't sure what happened. And she really doesn't want to talk to anyone right now. So, she reuses the line that Yang tried to use on her yesterday. "I really don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well, that's too bad," Yang retorts. Ruby can hear her shifting impatiently on the other side of the door. "You can't keep bottling this stuff up and not telling anyone."

Ruby almost laughs at the hypocrisy, except that she doesn't really feel up to laughing right now.

"You know that you can talk to us about anything, right, Ruby?"

Ruby wishes that she could believe what Weiss is saying. But if she's being honest? She's really not so sure. It's not like they were willing to talk about her about their problems before, so why should she trust them to listen to her when she wants to talk about things that are bothering her? Especially when it's something as weird as this.

"Ruby?" Weiss asks again. She sounds almost like she's pleading.

"No," Ruby murmurs quietly. Once again, the sound is lost in the mountain of blankets surrounding her.

"Sorry, Ruby, I didn't catch that," Weiss replies. She and Yang are being surprisingly patient.

She clears her throat. "No," she says again, loud enough for her teammates to hear this time. "I don't know that."

There's a pause. "You don't know what?" Yang asks, sounding confused.

"I don't know that I can talk to you guys about anything."

The statement hangs in the air for a moment. It feels strange, heavy, to have said it out loud.

Yang scoffs again, breaking the silence that's fallen over the three of them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ruby sighs quietly. Now that she's said it out loud, she feels vulnerable. She wishes that she could take it back, but she doubts that the other girls will let her turn back now. "It means that I have a hard time believing that I can come to with my problems when you guys refuse to come to me with yours!"

She can hear Weiss gasp, as if startled. "Ruby, we don't—"

"Yes, you do!" Ruby quickly cuts off her denial. "I overheard what you guys said yesterday. Do you know how much it hurts to see your friends hurting and to not be able to do anything about it? To be constantly shoved away and snapped at when you're just trying to help?"

Now that she's started talking, it's like she's on a roll.

"Ruby, we didn't mean it like that," Yang says hastily.

"You guys think that I don't get lonely? I just crossed an entire continent without my teammates! I spent the whole time worrying about you guys and hoping that you'd be okay and missing you, and then I finally get you back and you still won't tell me anything! How am I supposed to trust you and talk to you about things when you won't do the same for me?"

Once again, silence descends over the three of them. This time, it feels more thoughtful than hurt though.

Surprisingly, Yang is the first one to speak up. "Ruby, I'm sorry. I promise that I wasn't trying to make you feel that way." He sister pauses, chuckling softly. "I guess that, even after all these years, even though you don't really need me to, I'm still trying to be strong for my baby sister. But you're not a baby anymore."

"And I'm sorry, Ruby." Weiss takes a deep breath. "I guess after going back home, I got used to being alone all over again. But I'm not trapped there anymore. And I'm not alone anymore. I have you guys with me. Both of you."

"So c'mon, Rubes, please open the door. We're worried about you."

"I might have convinced Ren to make some hot chocolate."

Ruby laughs quietly. "I'd like that." She throws off the covers and makes her way over to the door, moving the chair away and unlocking it. Upon opening the door, she finds her arms full of her partner and sister as they pull her in for a hug. "Thanks, guys."

Whatever happens next, at least the three of them are together again.

Now, if only Blake could be here too.

[pistachoz]

legally blonde, tenth doctor

pairing: tenth doctor x fem!reader

synopsis: between trips and adventures with the doctor, you finally find the perfect timing to change your look. with no pointless dress codes to follow anymore, you try dyeing your hair on your own, ending up in a string of botched outcomes and unexpected confessions.

wc: 3K

warnings: none, mild cursing maybe??

author's note: oof, this took me more than i expected and it definitely ended up being waaay more. anyway, this is my first piece of writing for the doctor -also in general- and what a better way than start with a fluffy one! i hope it turned out decent! my first language it’s not english, so you can expect some -more like a lot of- writing mistakes.

also, a big shout out to @plxstic-rose​ bc she has been my biggest supporter when i felt like i couldn’t do this, she has helped me so much ily 🥺 💞

(GIF IS MINE)

A grimace appeared on your face as the sour taste of the coffee filled your mouth, you definitely needed to bring yours the next time you stopped on earth because the alien version of it tasted like stomach bile. You weren't even sure if it had proper caffeine or it was drug-fueled tea.

With a resigned sigh, you put the cold mug in the mirrored vanity table in front of you and checked your phone. Five minutes more and you would be rinsing the red dye out of your shower cap covered hair. You lift the right side of the cap slightly, trying to peek at your tinted hair, the pale red -almost blonde- pigments made your breath hitch in a halt.

Was it supposed to look that light? Oh crap, you should have gone to the salon.

That was actually going to be the original plan. You had been procrastinating changing your look; nothing wrong with the colour and length you normally had but since you started travelling with the doctor, you didn't count with office regulations to follow anymore so you considered shaking up a bit your aesthetic. Yet, it seemed as you could never stop to take a breath and the times you did, was always on strange-named planets where your peaceful state of mind lasted a couple of minutes. So, you took it upon yourself to change your look on your own. You knew it could have any sort of downfall, but you didn't really want to nag the doctor into making a 'short' stop on earth -even though you knew he wouldn't mind- just for a date at the salon. He needed a well-deserved rest after all the uncontrollable lifesaving shenanigans and every time you came back to earth, somehow you ended up enticing some sort of trouble.

Besides, how hard could it be, right?

You barged into the installed bathroom connected to your room and locked the door as soon as you stepped inside. The last thing you needed was for the doctor to burst in looking for you while you were in the middle of this crucial transformation, and even though he was probably too distracted tinkering around the console of the TARDIS, you knew how intrusively spontaneous he could be when he finds something new. It wouldn't be a first to hear him enter your bedroom in a spur-of-the-moment with enthusiastic hand gestures and euphoric rants about alien-y stuff.

You grabbed the light blue hand-sized towel that rested upon the toilet tank and draped it around your shoulders. A jittery feeling building up in the pit of your stomach at the prospect of how your new hair would look like.

You weren't particularly bold when it came to your style, always stuck with what you could call an average look, to be fair, before the doctor, your whole life was just brimming with a never-ending stodgy routine that encased every aspect of your life. You didn't see the point of making more than few changes in your image and it was not like your office let you go too risky either.

This was going to be the first radical change in your appearance, and you were lying if you didn't say a fit of excitement was already bubbling up your throat. You didn't know what exactly had gotten into you, but you were so adamant to do something. Perhaps it was the stockpiled adrenaline from all those adventures catching up on you, perhaps this was something you were going to regret later. Either way, right now, you could only think of how satisfying it would be to finally match your current lifestyle. New and thrilling.

To be completely honest, you were also eager to see the doctor's reaction. Of course, you were not doing this because of him…well, not for the best part, but a piece of you wished it would have some sort of effect on him.

You knew this regeneration was cheekier and maybe you were reading too much between the lines but sometimes you could swear there was something more in all those subtle touches and lingering hugs. The shared gazes that let you wonder if this was just some friendly treatment or if he really meant something deeper made your mind go into a frenzy.

You also knew that appearances didn't really matter to him but the need of looking bolder and more luring was still there. You wanted, for once and for all represent how traveling with him had changed you into someone who would risk more than just a ‘change of look´. You were becoming the best version of yourself and you wanted to show him that in more than one way, but one step at the time.

Warily, you lifted the plastic cap; your sticky hair popping in every direction. Without a prior look, you stooped over the sink and manoeuvred your head under the sprout. After some unsuccessful tries, you managed to open it and began massaging your scalp with your fingertips.

After swilling away the shampoo and applying the conditioner; you grasped the towel laying around your shoulders and swaddled your hair up in a turban.

You straighten your back and stroked your hair through the towel, trying -quite poorly- to pump it dry. You didn't anticipate it to be this gruelling. In fact, you thought this would be some sort of restful hiatus from your general tense state, but apparently, this had drained you more than expected.

Resignedly, you undid the coiled towel on top of you and let your new dyed hair fall freely behind you. The air fell out of your lungs and your stomach dropped when you stared at the sight of your reflection.

You were blonde. Blonde.

What in the name of god did you do? You were so sure you followed every instruction of the flipping tint box in lockstep- well, judging by the results, you obviously had made a mistake at some point, maybe even skipped one, but how catastrophic had it been that you ended up looking like a defective version of a Weasley that had awfully light shrimp coloured hair.

A trembling neigh-like sound left your mouth when you touched the ends of your hair. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't even have any dye left to apply another layer and asking the doctor for help was ruled out. He couldn't see you like this. Nobody could see you like this, for your dignity's sake.

This was all on you. You needed to think of something. Anything.

Hats, of course! The TARDIS must’ve a good stash of those, you knew you could find something in the never-ending wardrobe. That thing was three times bigger than your flat.

Well, problem solved. You were going to use a hat until your hair grew enough to cut it or until you stopped on earth again and got the chance to go to a proper hairdresser.

Good god, who were you kidding? This was a mess.

With shaky fingers, you fumble your way out the bathroom and dashed out of your room, in search for your only resource.

---

"You won't believe what I found underneath the floor panel!" You heard the doctor's elated voice buzzing through your room before he could even fling your door wide open.

All you managed to convey was a muffled hum through your pillowed-smashed face. Too tired sulking the crime you made to your hair to turn around from your current position. Your limp body was sprawled all over the bed; arms and legs stretched at your sides with your face buried deep down the mattress.

Without waiting for a proper response, he roved across your room and resumed his explanation of his oh-so-great discover with a shit-eating grin.

You didn't need to see him to know the already too familiar gestures he was making. You could picture with the most minimal detail how his eyes would sparkle with wonder and how a contagious gleam dotted the signature boyish grin he always wore.

You smiled fondly.

You could still remember thoroughly the first time you saw him in all his glory, ranting about scientific stuff you could not understand and even though you had never seen the man before, the brightness on his eyes and the insatiable curiosity he radiated made you grin almost immediately.

You sat up slowly; grunting when you stretched your arms upwards. You moved your head from side to side, trying to stir yourself up completely awake.

"…So technically, it should be able to make the TARDIS' chameleon barrier unfroze. Well... the possibilities are thirteen out of a hundred, but I-" He stopped mid-sentence when he turned around and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He tilted his head slightly to the side and a puzzled look crossed his face like he was trying to figure out what was out of place with you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Thankfully, you had managed to find a Kangol black bucket hat. It was pretty simple; a small metal fuchsia arrow was stamped on the front and the brim was big enough to fit all of your hair inside. Still It was just not your style. Well, the other option was an animal print floppy one, the type that Lady gaga would wear. So, you had to settled with the e-girl-angsty-teen looking.

"That's new" His left eyebrow quirked curiously.

"What?" Good job; try playing dumb and maybe like that he won’t notice it.

"The hat, I- " he made a circular motion around his head "I don't think I've seen you wear one before"

"Oh, I um- wanted to try something different?" You stated but the wince in your voice made it sound more like a question.

“Right, yeah” he rushed "It's not like it doesn't suit you"

"Right" You fidgeted absent-minded with the hem of your sweatshirt, trying to think of something to break the awkwardness “So… you were saying?”

"Oh yes!" a playful glint overtaking his features “I think I found a way to repair the malfunction on the chameleon circuit and hopefully it will be better than that time I tried a block transfer computation. I was so close, well- not that close but at least I managed to build a part of the outer plasmic shell. Anyways, if we are lucky enough, we could stop travelling around looking like a 'blue box'" he raised his eyebrows, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

“Hold on, didn’t you say it was kind of unsafe?”

"Oh no, don’t worry! It’s danger-free… for the most part, well actually, it’s a 4 out of ten, maybe 5. But I’m sure the old girl can handle- "

A shrilling alarm started echoing through the TARDIS’ walls and you almost fell out of the bed when the floor started shaking uncontrollably. The doctor stumbled upon his own feet and with strained struggle and held out his hand to help you up.

"You were saying?" You muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

With one hand locked onto the doctor's and the other extended to keep balance in the middle of the tremble, you managed to head out of your room. As soon as you stepped outside, you were greeted with red flashing lights going off all around the TARDIS.

"Careful" You heard the doctor called out, his voice barely perceivable. You had to double check to understand his next words "We need to get to the console"

Both of you tried the hardest to advance without falling or tripping over. The din of your footsteps lost in the middle of the shrieking noise. You could feel the vibration of the walls crawling to your brain and rumbling. The longer you spend running, the sharper the dizziness became.

You felt his hand clasp yours tighter when you decreased your speed; a warm feeling squeezed its way through your chest instantly. He looked down at you, a small reassuring smile on his lips; he was going to solve this.

When you finally reached the control room, the doctor leaped his way towards the console. A string of garbled mumbling fell under his breath, which you were more than certain you wouldn’t understand even if he spoke up. You saw him go around the panel, flicking switches and pressing buttons but it didn’t lessen a bit the state you were in.

You stood next to the entrance holding onto the railing for dear life. Maybe you should have been trying to do something useful, but quite frankly you had no clue as to what was going on. And even if you could have done something, there was no way of giving more than a few steps without falling.

After several confused exclamations and scrunched up faces from the doctor, he stumbled his way to the other side of the room and kneeled next to an opened floor tile. He plunged into what used to be a makeshift storage and with a newfound enthusiasm, you heard him shout. "Found it!"

He reappeared back on sight and held a small cassette-looking thing, his hair sticking up in a messier way than usual and a triumphant grin spreading on his features "The resetting format key should be able to stabilize us."

With a quick motion, he stood up but before he could head back towards the console to plug it in, an abrupt shook threw the both of you across the room. You saw the doctor’s figure fall hovering over a coral column next to the panel as you held tight on the railing stronger, attempting unsuccessfully to stand still.

Maybe if you hadn't been distracted watching how the doctor got up and toss his weird-looking key into one of the TARDIS’ inputs, you would have noticed how your apparently well-put-cap was now laying on the floor a few meters away from you. And maybe, if you hadn’t been so awestruck at how quickly the room returned to its normal state with golden cozy lights shining from the ceiling, you would have notice your now-bright blonde hair flowing behind your back without a care in the world.

"Right, so it looks like the TARDIS went into some sort of safe mode." He spoke a little out of breath, arms still hunched over the panel "but it's okay now. Apparently, it was a defense response, she thought it we were under a- "

He turned around slowly but stopped dead on tracks when his eyes landed on you, or more specifically- on your hair. His once furrowed eyebrows were now raised, almost touching his hairline and open awestruck eyes were looking at you like you were an unknown species. A breathtaking unknown species.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Every part of his body was just not responding, it was like he had stopped functioning properly. His unblinking eyes were glued to your face and his agape mouth looked almost comical; you would have taken out your phone in that moment just to snap a picture if your brain hadn’t been dozing off at the reason for his reaction. Because what could possibly- Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You moved your gaze to the ground, eyes falling on the discarded hat near the entrance. You pursed your lips, thoughts running a mile per hour. When did it fell? Why weren’t you careful enough? This was the doctor’s fault. Yeah, all his fault. He had to come with his incredibly soft hair and that flipping sweet smile that made your toes curl up and your heartbeat race like there was no tomorrow. He had to come and distract you, oh and of course, bringing a mess along the way.

God! This was not helping.

“You- um, you are…blonde” Yeah, no shit, sherlock.

“I-…am I?” The breathy words rasping out, your mouth felt as dried as the Sahara and you were surprised a sound came out at all.

“You look-”

“I know” You close your eyes and shook your head, praying to whatever entity out there to swallow you up and throw you to the Bahamas “it wasn’t supposed-“

“I like it” he blurted out “I know you don’t need any sort of validation and I’m not trying to- what I-” He starting flapping his hands around in a cartoon-like gestures “you look stunning… truly stunning; not that you weren´t before. I mean, the colour really does suit you but I’ve always thought- blonde, not blonde, you’ve always been beautiful… Guess what I’m trying to say is that when you love someone, there’s really nothing that can make you look at them differently. Did you know that As’urs considered blonde people holy? Well they would if there were blonde people. Sorry, totally off topic, but they do. Everyone there is blue-haired. And there’s a lot of mystical myths and clergy influence involved but basically everything golden is sacred for them. If we go, they might even crown you as their queen.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could imagine the red alarms in his brain going off, trying to process what fell out of his mouth moments prior and desperately attempting to conjure something up but instead just causing a short circuit in the process. To be completely honest, you weren’t any better.

You felt your heart bumping up your throat and your skin grew hotter and hotter per second. You swore you could feel the maniac rhythm of your pulse piercing through your head and you were quite sure you looked like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the funfair, with eyes nearly falling out of your skull.

Because he didn’t really say that, right? Your mind must’ve been playing some sick game with you. There was no way, he really-

“What?” It was all you managed to muster; your small voice barely hearable.

“Huh?” You saw the redness from his cheek expand through all the visible skin.

“What did you just say?”

“That As’urs would consider you a goddess?” He asked hesitant with a guilty expression.  

“No- before that”

“That the blonde hair looks good on you?”

“No! I-“ You took a small breath “Do you love me?”

You could sense the confidence returning to him like a tidal wave, a serious expression overtaking his features, but with a softness you couldn’t comprehend. “I always have”

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you towards him. You stopped when your noses were almost touching and you could feel his hot ragged breath fall on your eyelashes. With hesitation, you placed your hands on his arms and looked up, letting yourself fall on those brown pools you have grown to love.

“Doctor…” you whispered

You had no idea what made you do it, but you moved your hands to his cheeks, and you kissed him. It was impulsive and stupid, and something you’d expect a sixteen-year-old girl do on her prom night. But you did it without a second thought. And for a moment you felt the doctor grow incredibly still, mouth unmoving and eyes wide open, until you placed your soothing fingers on the back of his neck, thumbs caressing and drawing invisibles circles on his sideburns.

And so, he gave in; firm hands grasping your hips and pressing you flush against him. His mouth spilling raw passion and his insides melting at the soft contact of your delicate lips. The tenderness on his touches and intensity of his lips drawing out all those words that didn’t need saying, because you knew. He was so sure you knew.

An involuntary whimper left your lips when he broke the kiss and intertwined his hands with yours. He brought your joined hands nearer and placed a light kiss to your knuckles.

“Did I mention I like your hair?” A husky laugh fell from your lips and your eyes sparkled when he gave you a soft smile that would be imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

When he looked at you with those old eyes that sung you stories in the most beautiful way imaginable and his swollen lips ghosted a smile you knew things were going to be better, with new adventures and new experiences awaiting on your door. And you had the whole time and space at your disposal to face it together.

author's note pt.2: OK that was a lot, honestly the ending got sloppy and there’s probably a lot of bad editing, but I invented a whole new alien species, so hey! kudos for that I guess. anyway, i hope you like it! and as always, feedback would be really appreciated, a comment or a like would mean the world to me! like my description says, requests are open! but It would probably take ages for me to finish it, so please patience. right now I have some more doctor who drafts and also some marvel ones!

-love, rina xx

[klovenhooves]

Johnny Lawrence and the Five Love Languages, Chapter Two: Acts of Service

Johnny felt like he’d been living in Groundhog’s Day. Every day he woke up, and it still wasn’t the weekend yet. He was constantly tapping his foot, jumping his leg up and down under the table, as if willing time to speed up. He wasn’t used to feeling so jittery about something – Miguel commented knowingly that Sensei Lawrence had overdosed on caffeine when he fidgeted too much during training.

 He got some extra push ups for that, not that he minded, the little twerp.

 And then, suddenly, it was Saturday morning, and he was jogging out to his car, keys jangling like his nerves, trying not to think about how eager he was to get to the beach. This time they would be without Robby, without Anthony, alone in the ocean.

 Maybe Diaz had a point with his little love language thingy.

 At least, that’s what he thought at ten in the morning. By noon, he was pretty sure the love languages thing was bullshit, because he was still waiting for Daniel to show up, and he was about to admit to himself and his stubborn pride that he wasn’t coming. He scoffed, pushing himself off the hood of his car and into the driver’s seat, trying to stifle the ripple of disappointment that ached a little like embarrassment.

 He was a high school kid again, playing games with the pretty girl and hoping she knew the rules. Except this time, he was the one who didn’t know the rules.

 He grabbed his phone from the cupholder beneath the radio where he’d left it to keep the sand and salt out of it. He almost didn’t look at it. What would he find there, but another avenue to hurt his feelings? Daniel probably hadn’t called.

 He sighed and pressed the top button. There were five missed calls on it, and a text from Robby.

 “CALL ME NOW,” it said.

He obeyed the text message, thinking ironically that whatever shit was about to hit the fan would at least distract him from Daniel LaRusso.

 “What the hell did you do?” Robby’s voice was hoarse, tired, like he’d been yelling for a while already. Johnny’s hand twitched around his keys, itching to turn them in the ignition, to find his son, find the problem. He stuck his hand under his thigh and forced himself to stay still.

 “What did I do?” Johnny repeated. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

 He could hear something in the background, deep sounds of wood hitting wood, and running water. “Cobra Kai never dies, right?” Robby sneered. “Isn’t that what you say?”

 “Yeah…” Johnny trailed off, trying to put together too few available pieces of the puzzle. “Look, I don’t know what –”

 “Cobra Kais trashed Miyagi-do last night,” Robby spat.

 Suddenly, Daniel’s absence made sense. “Send me the address,” he said firmly, speaking over Robby when he could hear his son preparing to deliver another painful blow. “Now.”

 ***

 He could see the devastation before he even got out of the car. “Cobra Kai Never Dies” seared into his vision from the side of LaRusso’s favorite yellow vintage car, black and stark and painful to look at. He grimaced, shoving the door of his car open and listening for the approach.

 It didn’t take long for Daniel to find him.

 “Get the hell out of here, Johnny,” he snapped from the porch, and even from a distance, Johnny could see that he was sunburned, sweaty, exhausted. “Before I call the cops.”

 “I didn’t do this,” Johnny answered, holding his hands up in the sign of surrender. “I swear. I would never.”

 “I don’t believe you.”

 That hurt more than Johnny thought it would. He blinked and looked down at the worn earth beneath his feet, almost sand. They should have been at the beach right now. They could have been having fun.

 He steeled himself. As much as he didn’t want to, he was going to have to swallow his pride if he wanted to convince Daniel of his innocence. More than that, he wanted to convince Daniel so completely that he would never again believe him capable of something like this.

 Because what man would love someone capable of something like this? Whoever had done this had stomped into Daniel’s sanctuary, his shrine to his dead teacher, and crushed it under their boot without remorse. Even when he was blindingly angry, drunk, miserable, Johnny would have never dared wreak havoc here.

 “You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “Just tell me what needs fixing.”

 Daniel took a step down from the porch, eyes intent on Johnny, so sharp that Johnny wanted to flinch away from them. “What?”

 Daniel was itching for a fight, Johnny could see it in his gaze. He wondered if that would make him happy, and considered giving it to him.

 But no, he would be selfish, and deny Daniel their personal brand of intimacy. Let this be a new one. “Let me help,” he said softly. “What do you need me to do?”

 Daniel furrowed his brows, eyes roving over Johnny’s face like he would find the truth in the lines around his eyes. Johnny let him look, content to suffer under his gaze, waiting to be sent away.

 “You really didn’t do this?” He wanted to believe him, Johnny could see in the sad downturn of his mouth.

 “LaRusso, if I wanted to torture you, I wouldn’t resort to vandalism,” Johnny replied, tilting his head, giving Daniel a genuine smile instead of his typical smirk. “This has teenage kid written all over it.” Then, without thinking, he blurted, “We aren’t teenagers anymore.”

 Daniel clenched his jaw, the bunched muscles protruding from the pressure. “You’re right, we aren’t.”

 ***

 Taking Johnny through the back gate brought the initial shock back; Daniel could see the wreckage as if through his eyes – the broken pots and tipped over plants, the shredded punching bag, the toilet paper all over the trees, the spray paint. He had been trying to clear it up for three hours, at least, and it still looked like he hadn’t even started. It almost made him turn around and leave – though what he would do when he left, Daniel couldn’t tell. He was stuck between wanting to fix everything, put it all back the way Miyagi had it and going to a bar and getting wretchedly drunk.

 “Holy shit,” Johnny breathed beside him. Daniel spared him a glance, enough to see that he was clearly still dressed for the beach, and felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t called to tell Johnny he wasn’t coming – that felt like the closest thing to a courtesy he could give him when he saw the dojo. He had stood there, where Johnny was standing now, trying to reconcile the Johnny he had been thinking about against his will all week with the one who was callous enough to send his students to do something like this.

 He didn’t dare hope that Johnny had nothing to do with it, lest he be wrong.

 “Where do you need me, boss?” Johnny asked when Daniel didn’t answer.

 “Uh,” he stammered, looking around the yard. “We really just need to get the trash picked up first.”

 “Cool,” Johnny said, turning away and yanking toilet paper out of the tree beside him. “Go get some water, LaRusso, you look dead on your feet.”

 “I don’t need –”

 “You do,” Johnny interrupted, and there was that unfathomable softness again, apparent in the wrinkles around his eyes, in the set of his mouth. “Go get some water, and get some for my kid, too.”

 Daniel stared at him for a moment, trying to replace the hardened, angry face of Johnny Lawrence in his mind with this almost reasonable one. He sighed, feeling his muscles ache with the breath, and nodded. He returned a few minutes later with cold bottles of water, holding them up for the kids to see. He could feel Johnny watching him as he passed them out, cracking his own open and drinking greedily until the bottle was empty.

 When he looked back, Johnny gave him a self-satisfied smirk and kept cleaning.

 Daniel felt like he was being constantly barraged by epiphanies about Johnny Lawrence lately. He remembered keenly the understanding he felt when he stood next to him at his childhood apartment.

 “A nice house doesn’t mean nice things are going on inside.”

 The words made so many unexplained details about Johnny make sense that Daniel kept catching himself thinking about it weeks after. No wonder Johnny had been so angry as a teenager – no wonder he’d adapted so well to Kreese’s teachings. No wonder karate had always been so important, and such a dire skill to learn.

 Now, he was seeing new facets, like Johnny surfing, still boyish and energetic in the ocean, familiar and knowledgeable in the way Daniel always wanted to be about anything.

 And here he was, slaving away under the hot sun, to prove to Daniel that he hadn’t trashed his dojo.

 Daniel wanted to comment that he didn’t think a rich boy from Encino could work so hard, but he found that he was unwilling to break the easy peace they’d found. Instead, he helped Johnny unhook the punching bag from its hook and carried it inside with him.

 “I can tape it up,” Johnny said, surveying the cuts critically. “That should hold it for a while, depending on how much you wail on this thing daily.”

 Daniel nodded. “I’ll get the tape.”

 He ended up kneeling across from Johnny on the wood floor, his hands holding the different gashes together so Johnny could tape them closed, his hands both careful and sure.

 “I will find out who did this,” Johnny said after a while, peeling another piece of duct tape free. “I didn’t teach them –”

 “I know you didn’t,” Daniel interrupted, and he could see Johnny turn his head to see his face more clearly. “No criminal worth his salt would stay to clean up the mess.”

 Johnny chuckled, a genuine laugh under his breath, and Daniel smiled. He didn’t think he’d ever heard that laugh before.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Daniel muttered, ducking his head lower, closer to the punching bag so Johnny couldn’t see it. “I should have.”

 “No,” Johnny muttered, pressing the duct tape into the gash Daniel was holding closed, his fingers brushing over Daniel’s as he secured the tape in place. “I wouldn’t have called me either.”

 Daniel looked up at him, accidentally catching his gaze and holding it. There was a sadness in Johnny’s eyes that Daniel could feel, radiating from him like he was trying to warn him away. He wondered why that was. He could feel the edge of Johnny’s hand, pressed onto the punching bag right near his own, warm and soft.

 “John –”

 “Dad,” Sam blurted, trotting up the stairs and into the house. “We need more hands to pick up the statue.”

 Daniel tore his eyes away and found his daughter, face red and hair frazzled. “I’ll be right there,” he said.

 “Let’s go,” Johnny said, picking up the punching bag, his voice a forced replica of his usual tone. “I’ll help you.”

 Daniel was left to gape after him as he carried the heavy bag by himself back to its hook and replaced it.

 ***

 Johnny couldn’t explain where his strange feeling of hope came from, but once it settled in, he couldn’t shake it. Something about working with Daniel to fix that punching bag, the way they spoke plainly, even if they said it while looking at the punching bag instead of each other, felt important, like Daniel was starting to see him as something other than an immature bully.

 He followed Daniel and Sam to the tipped over statue, where tracks in the grass told him that Robby and Sam had already tried to pick up the statue themselves and stumbled. He could tell just by looking at it that it was too heavy for the kids to pick up by themselves, and maybe even too heavy to himself and Daniel to pick up.

 “Robby, can you get me those two broken fence planks?” he asked. Robby furrowed his brows at him in confusion but didn’t argue, trotting off to grab the planks.

 “What are you thinking?” Daniel asked, stepping closer to him, close enough that Johnny could smell that he was wearing sunscreen. He was reminded, again, of their plans to be at the beach.

 “If we can use those rocks and the planks to get the statue just a few inches off the ground, we can probably get it the rest of the way ourselves,” Johnny said. “I had to do this at a landscaping job I did about ten years ago. Some rich Encino broad –” he caught Sam’s close gaze out of the corner of his eye. “Some rich Encino…woman…insisted that she wanted slabs of marble sticking out of her garden in the back yard, and one of them fell over. I was the only one there, so I had to get creative to get it back up.”

 “You did a landscaping job?” Daniel asked as Johnny passed him a plank.

 “You’re the white-collar guy here, LaRusso,” Johnny remarked, shoving the plank under the statue. “Not me.”

 Daniel didn’t answer him, but mirrored his movements, setting his own plank underneath the statue and looking to Johnny for his cue.

 The statue was heavier than he expected, but after a few seconds of struggling, it started to lift off the grass. Daniel huffed a surprised scoff, too out of breath to do anything else, and Johnny grinned at him.

 Robby and Sam slipped in and took hold of the statue, Johnny and Daniel following, and after some clumsy struggling, the statue was upright again and looking as sturdy against the fence as it had before. The kids cheered, high-fiving first each other, and then their fathers.

 “Alright, you two, why don’t you go cool off in the shade and drink some more water?” Daniel said, his eyes landing only momentarily on Johnny. They obliged without argument, trudging off toward the house with heavy feet.

 Johnny could feel Daniel’s eyes on him in the wake of the kids’ absence. He turned away from him and surveyed the garden, far more tranquil than it had been when he arrived. He could hear the running water and the deep sound of the wood chimes that he’d heard when Robby called.

 He could understand, in quiet moments like this, why Daniel was so protective of this place.

 “I want you to try something,” Daniel’s voice broke through his reverie. Johnny turned to see him, a smile just barely quirking his lips upward, his hair tousled and messy from the wind and the work. The sun was starting to sink behind him, leaving gold behind in strands of his hair, his skin supple and dark in the sunlight.

 “Is this when you tell me you have weed?” Johnny replied.

 Daniel rolled his eyes and led Johnny to the edge of a pond where a round platform floated in the middle.

 “Torture device?” Johnny asked.

 “Get in the pond, Johnny,” Daniel said, toeing off his own shoes at the edge.

 “Are there fish in there?” Johnny asked, peering in.

 “There aren’t fish in there,” Daniel laughed.

 “Are you sure –?”

 Before he could finish, Daniel had grabbed him around the middle and pulled him into the pond with him. The water was ice cold when he went in, so cold he felt the shock ricochet through his body. And then he felt Daniel’s arms around his middle, just barely releasing so they could find the surface safely, and the cold didn’t matter.

 He broke the surface, spluttering, and found Daniel grinning at him, trying to hold back his laughter. He launched himself in Daniel’s direction, catching him around the shoulders and shoving him into the water, yanking him back up only a moment later, hand tight around Daniel’s upper arm.

 “You don’t want to play that game with me,” Daniel said warningly, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, grinning like a fool. “I’ve been almost drowning my cousins since I lived in Newark.”

 “I grew up in the ocean, LaRusso, a body of water intent on drowning you without any help,” Johnny retorted, still holding tight to Daniel’s arm. “I think I can handle you.”

 Daniel raised his eyebrows at him, and before Johnny could think of another witty retort, Daniel’s leg was snaking around his and yanking his feet out from under him, sending them both below the surface of the water.

 Beneath the surface, Johnny could see the stones on the bottom of the pond, recently scraped clean of algae, if the little green spots in the cracks of the rocks were any indication. Daniel, beside him, was untangling himself from Johnny’s legs, swimming toward the surface again. Deftly, without any struggle, Johnny waited until he broke the surface, gave him time to take a breath, and wrapped his legs around Daniel’s waist, pulling him back down below again.

 Daniel glared at him, his eyes almost black under the water, and pushed them both to the surface.

 “Okay, okay, time out, we’re actually going to drown each other,” Daniel said, one arm sliding around the small of Johnny’s back to hold him up in the water.

 It wasn’t until Daniel’s hand settled on his hip that Johnny realized he still had his legs hooked around Daniel’s waist. He just assumed Daniel would break free of the hold when he made his way to the surface.

 His surprise must have shown on his face because he could both hear and feel Daniel chuckle.

 “Thank you,” he said, and if Johnny hadn’t been so close, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. “For today.”

 Johnny didn’t know what to say. Brushing off Daniel’s thanks would feel like he was cheapening what they had accomplished today, which, based on their track record of working together, was unheard of. But he didn’t really feel like what he did required thanks when really all he wanted was to prove to Daniel he hadn’t trashed the dojo.

 And then he remembered one of the love languages that Miguel told him about.

 Acts of service.

 Perhaps this was the one that would work.

 He watched, as if in slow motion, Daniel’s gaze drop to his lips. There was still water running down his face, settling at the point of his chin, dripping in the silence, harmonizing with the chimes at the back door to the house. He could lean in – he moved to unhook his legs from around Daniel’s waist, but Daniel’s arm around him tightened and stilled his movement.

 “Tighten your legs,” Daniel said quietly, the same words Johnny said to him last week, and Johnny’s gaze snapped up to his eyes, deep, soulful brown in the shade, eyelashes still wet.

 He could lean in – he watched Daniel lick his lips and reached up to grab onto the side of the pond, steadying them both against the side. He leaned in, just a fraction –

 “Dad –”

 Immediately, Johnny released Daniel’s waist and moved away, far enough that he bumped against the platform floating in the pond.

 Daniel’s eyes were still on him, dark and unreadable. ���Yes, Sam?”

 “Sensei Kreese is here.”

[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

Call me Yours

So @helloitsvehere​ had to go ahead and this under one of my reblogs and even sent me a whole headcanon on the subject, so I had to go write this little thing. 

Thank you for the idea Star, I love you so much and happy Valentine’s Day!

Summary: “I’ll write it on you next.”

“What you just did right there, is sacrilege of the highest form."  

Ryan angles his head, leveling what he proudly deems his intimidating look at Shane sitting in the chair next to him.    

They’re shooting Top 5 in Ryan’s living room, the spread of his kitchen behind him the most confusing mix of comfort and stress. Sure, they’ve spent hours and hours in this very spot discussing and planning and going crazy over this stupidly high-risk project, but up until a week ago when they really put down the cash to get the filming equipment, it all seemed as real as a dream. 

Now, with the scorching lights and cameras trained on him in his place of residence, cloth thrown over the windows to block out the night, casting the room in a soft beige tint, Ryan thinks anything could happen.  

Shane leans back with his board in his hands, the very sight of the scrawled name of the restaurant comfortably nestled in third place paining Ryan on both physical and spiritual levels. It is completely unacceptable. An abomination to humanity itself. 

"I’ve never even heard of that place. Steven!” He gesticulates at Shane with his marker and calls out to Steven sitting just out of the frame, because he’s gotta get some sort of sane Californian opinion on this, no matter what Steven’s actual native state is. Ryan cannot be alone in this.  

“Thank you!” He throws out a hand in a half salute when he receives–an albeit longsuffering– frown and shake of the head from Steven. But it was a vote in his direction. 

“I like it, and that’s enough,” Shane smiles at him with his curvy eyes, waving a hand in a there-there gesture and Ryan can feel himself bristling. “Our opinions are different, isn’t that the whole point of this show?”

“The point,” Ryan says tightly, an accusing marker pointed at the offending name, “Is that you provide sensible reasons in support of those opinions.”

“I laid out a very well-made argument, you’re the one that shot it down." 

"I did not,” Shane’s giving him that look that says you know you’re wrong, something he has had to endure for the past four years on Unsolved. And fine, maybe he is, but that’s not important. “It broke down on its own, it’s so little known you may as well have written your address on there to represent your mom’s cooking.”

“Watch it Bergara, my mother’s cooking is amazing." 

"Well, you better write the Madej name down on that board there then.”

“I’ll write it on you next." 

It’s a stupid comeback, really, like what a middle schooler would come up with. Ryan would have realized this, may even have commented on it, if only he could think at all. 

Because there is just something about the way Shane leans in, voice pitched low and eyes narrowed with intent, his big hands curled around the edge of the modified whiteboards in a secure hold. Ryan shivers, he can’t help it, feeling heat rising high on his cheeks. 

It’s barely been two months, and this thing they have between them is the best thing that has happened to Ryan by far, he’s sure. 

It has just happened so fast, their first kiss, first date, first everything had been caught up in the whirlwind of setting up their own company, finally getting to create under their own names with no higher order than themselves. It is a lot, all this fresh freedom wrapped up in the new restraints they fight around every corner, but he’d be lying if it isn’t exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster with no seatbelt.

So there hasn’t been much time to process, to nurture their relationship the way that Ryan would have wanted. And every once in a while, the fact that there is now another layer to the bond they had accumulated and enforced through years of work and partnership; the strange not-changes that had just shifted into place. The fact that all the half-hidden and not so veiled suggestions and hints now have a secure chance of being acted upon-- it comes round to hit him all at once, leaving him flushed and tingling at the fingertips, desperately wondering what if.

Dimly, Ryan realizes that he hasn’t said anything in reply. How long had he sat there with some kind of dopey look on his face, just staring at Shane? This is so absolutely not the time to do this. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Steven shaking his head, that pained frown making another appearance. Shane has dropped his serious face, a satisfied tilt to his mouth that Ryan wants to see turn into a laugh. 

So Ryan works with what he has, and sometimes that doesn’t include spoken words. 

"Oi!” Shane hollers when Ryan launches an attack on his bare arm via marker, the taller man scrambling to shift in his chair and holding his board out like a shield, inching his head out the side to peek at Ryan, “Now that’s just rude.” He declares, and Ryan thinks Shane would have even stuck out a finger if he wasn’t gripping the board so hard. 

“You brought it on yourself, big guy.” Ryan arches an eyebrow, watching with some satisfaction as Shane’s eyes slip down to his lips for just a second. At least he wasn’t alone in this. 

“So what was all that about?”

Shane must have noticed more than he let on, Ryan thinks later, when Shane crowds him against the sink, dipping his head to nip at the shell of Ryan’s ear, words a rumble against his back. 

“You’re gonna have to be more specific,” Ryan hums, leaning back into Shane to let the man feel his warmth, appreciating the sight of the two of them reflected in the mirror. Shane runs cold, something to do with circulation losing the fight against his stupid height and extra-long limbs. But it is quite nice when it comes to sharing a bed.

“You got real red back there, even Steven noticed.”

Ryan’s really tired, out-like-a-light tired, but heat coils in his gut almost instantly. He drops his gaze, suddenly too shy to even look at where Shane’s eyes are twinkling. But it really doesn’t help his situation, because then he sees what Shane’s holding delicately in one hand. 

It’s the marker, the very same one, in fact, that he had used to dot Shane’s arm with little black spots. Now those marks stook out stark against Shane’s skin in the white light of the bathroom. 

“You’d like it if I wrote my name on you wouldn’t you?” Shane murmurs into his ear, twirling the plastic tube around in his hand casually, like he would have allowed himself to do while on camera. Now that’s a thought. Ryan doesn’t think he’s breathing, he gives the barest of nods, eyes trained on the movement. 

“Where would you like it, hmm? Here?” Shane’s other hand skims along his side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He nudges the side of Ryan’s neck with his nose, voice low, “Or here where everyone can see, where they can read my name and know you’re mine?”

There’s a pressure building, and Ryan’s immensely glad they’re doing this after he changed out of his jeans. 

“Maybe I’ll write it on you right here, so you can watch yourself come in the mirror?”

“Fuck.” Ryan has to scrabble for a hold on the sink then, his knees losing friction and buckling under him. He feels like one of those car-wash blowy things, and Shane had just ripped out the plug to the engine, leaving him to crumple haphazardly towards the ground in a boneless heap. 

But Shane’s there to catch him, hands circling Ryans’ waist in a steady hold. 

“Too much?” Shane asks, catching his gaze in the mirror.

“Jesus.” Ryan breathes, feeling Shane chuckle against him, the taller man ducking his head to press a kiss into Ryan’s neck. 

“There’s not gonna be room for our pal JC tonight, I can promise you that.”

“Shane. Oh my God.” Ryan complains, eyes fluttering closed against the gentle brushes of hands and breath. 

“Not him either.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“Do you want me to?” Shane’s stubble is tickling the back of Ryan’s neck, Shane’ voice a quiet murmur in his ear, and Ryan’s has always been a sucker for those sweet sweet acoustics. 

“Fuck no." 

"Open your eyes for me, baby, I want you to see yourself for the next part." 

Oh this is definitely a good way to end the night. 

"Look who came in with makeup today.”

Ryan’s jolted out from his morning haze, head jerking up to see Jen smirking at him between the gaps of their computer monitors. It’s a bright Monday morning, and they’re back to shooting Unsolved at the ol’ BU office. 

“What?” He asks, setting his mug carefully down on his desk, already half empty. He should really watch his caffeine count, he wouldn’t be much use at work if he got all jittery during a shoot. But it’s on Buzzfeed, so he’s going to indulge just a little. 

“Busy night was it?” Jen taps a hand on her neck lightly, eyes flitting over to where Shane was opening up his laptop, hair fluffed up and messy. And oh, oh fuck. 

Ryan’s hand shoots up to the side of his neck, mouth dropping open. They had left his place so hurriedly this morning, barely pulling on t-shirts and pants to fall into an Uber, Ryan had had to forfeit toothpaste for mints. There was no time for mirrors and grooming.

No time for other things too, as it turns out. 

“How…?” He can’t really bring him to finish the question, it seems so wrong to even talk about this here, but Jen takes pity on him.

“Very.” She offers him a sympathizing grimace. 

He reaches out to Shane blindly with a fluttering hand, and he thinks he accidentally taps the man across the face, but it does get his attention. Shane’s eyes widen when Ryan turns to show him his neck. 

“Oh shit.” There’s worry in his face as Shane does a quick once over to check if the others are showing, which they weren’t. It’d be really problematic if they do, considering where they are. When he meets Ryan’s eyes again, Ryan thinks he sees something like excitement glint there. 

And maybe, just maybe, there’s a thrill in Ryan’s chest as well.

“Do you need…?” Shane starts, one arm outstretched as if he would bolt and fetch Ryan all the wet-wipes and concealer that he’d ever need, the moment Ryan asks. And Ryan’s heart just absolutely melts for this man. 

Slowly, Ryan lowers his hand to bare the black lines, the span of Shane’s signature arcing across the side of his throat, probably along with the faint print of Shane’s hand, if the tenderness there was any indication. Ryan’s wide awake now, feeling his face heat up when Shane’s eyes darken in the morning light. 

“Oh Ryan.” It shouldn’t be possible to look sultry and soft at the same time, and Ryan is immensely glad that he gets to have this all to himself. 

“Shane.” He echoes, sitting up straighter in his seat. Jen whistles from across his desk. 

“So you’re leaving it on?” Shane leans on the arm of his chair, and now he’s more confident, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “People are gonna take pictures, social media, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Let them.” Ryan crosses his arms and hooks a foot around Shane’s ankle, offering the taller man a sly smile and savoring the sight of the blush creeping onto Shane’s cheeks. “You did say it looked good last night.”

Shane’s eyes tilt until they’re curvy, and he flashes a devious grin back, and Ryan knows today’s gonna stretch like decades before they can rush home and fall on something soft, or crash against a wall. Both have proven equally effective. 

“Oh you bet it does." 

[dontshootmespence]

The Shaky Path Forward

Summary: Spencer has stopped abusing drugs, but the path forward is shaky at best.

Words: 1,847

Warnings: Drug withdrawal symptoms.

A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo​ 2020! This fulfills my addiction square and takes place between the events of Revelations  to mid season 3.

Tagging a few people who gave input regarding what they wanted to see addressed with Spencer’s addiction. @illegalcerebral​ @ilikepipecleanerswitheyes​ @stunudo​

In the first hours, right after Olivia tossed all the stashes Spencer had hidden across the apartment, she could feel his restlessness, his legs bouncing up and down, hands shaky with a burning need he felt ashamed to voice. She tried to get him to lie down in bed, but he couldn’t get comfortable, tossing and turning for hours on end as his muscles pulsed with an intensity he hadn’t felt in some time. “I can’t do this, Livie.”

“You can.”

She tried to soothe him in any way she could, but it was no use. His muscles spasmed until he was so tired he had no choice but to fall asleep, only to be woken up hours later with an overwhelming need to vomit. He barely got to the toilet in time, but the retching was so loud it woke Olivia up.

Running toward the bathroom, she rubbed his back, feeling helpless as the withdrawal took its toll on his body. They both took off for a few days, under the guise of both being ill with the flu, while the worst of Spencer’s symptoms subsided. His muscles throbbed, the nausea was debilitating, he slept for at most two hours at a time and for the life of him he couldn’t stop his eyes from watering – lacrimation. “What if they know?” Spencer asked. “About me? About us?”

Though the physical symptoms hadn’t lasted more than a few days, his hands still shook with anxiety. “When it comes to us, I’m sure they don’t know anything.”

“And what about me?”

Olivia smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “It doesn’t take a profiler to see that something’s wrong, Spence. And we work with the best in the world.”

He scratched his forearm lightly, more than uncomfortable with the fact that they might know anything, let alone the whole story. “Ready to go?” She asked. “We’ll drive separately. Keep us a secret for a little while longer.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied. He could only handle so much at one time. And right now it was just a miracle that he hadn’t shot up in more than 72 hours.

---

Spencer insisted on grabbing a cup of coffee on the way into work, and although Olivia trusted him, she insisted on going with him. The drugs had only been out of his system for three days. Cravings could derail him in an instant.

He was deluding himself into thinking that grabbing a cup of coffee would cover up his jitteriness. He could blame it on the caffeine. Obviously, the withdrawals were still clouding his judgment. Every member on his team knew either what was up or had noticed a change in him at the very least.

Either way, she placated him and they grabbed a cup of coffee before going into work. Hotch smiled knowingly at you when you exited the elevator before beckoning Spencer to his office. Olivia was certain he’d picked up on something, but she could only hope he realized that Spencer could still do the job, and that he was getting help.

---

Vibrating with anxiety, Spencer crossed the threshold into Hotch’s office, biting his lip in an attempt to keep any other visible withdrawal signs at bay. “What is it, Hotch?”

“Sit.”

Spencer did as he was asked, trying to think of something to say.

“Now, Reid-“

“Sir, -“

“Listen. I need you to listen. If you think that I haven’t noticed anything, that the team hasn’t noticed anything, you’re in denial. We all have. I figured something was wrong after that case in Westchester shortly after everything happened. You were irritable and distracted. Then in New Orleans you missed that plane. I’m assuming you got hooked on the dilaudid Hankle was drugging you with and I know you’ve been struggling. I just need you to know that you aren’t in this alone and if you want to talk to me about anything, I’m here. You’re a valuable member of this team, and we don’t want to lose you in any capacity.”

Spencer swallowed hard against the emotion building in him. “Thank you, Sir.”

As he stood up to leave, Hotch called for him, asking for Olivia to be sent in next. “Sure thing.”

---

Olivia projected an air of confidence as she walked into Hotch’s office, hoping to deflect.

Hotch closed the blinds and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to tell you what I told Reid. I know about his addiction. I know he was reeling after Hankle. And I know that you know.”

Her shaking gaze only betrayed her in the slightest way, but it was all the confirmation Hotch needed. “He’s not alone.”

“He knows he’s not…and at least the first steps toward healing…they’ve been taken. We just need to keep an eye on him. He can still do the job, Sir.”

“I know that. Even clouded, his intellect is invaluable, as is he. Just…try and keep this under the radar. If something happens, something that I can’t keep away from Bureau management, I will have to report him. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Understood, Sir.” Olivia’s crystalline blue eyes glistened with fresh tears. “Thanks.”

---

Cases came and went, each one more gruesome than the last. For the most part, Spencer was able to compartmentalize, keep the cravings at bay while focusing on work. But occasionally, he found himself snapping at his team, unable to stop himself, regret immediately following.

It was the irritability that was truly eating at him more than anything else. After watching Jack Vaughn shoot that suspect in front of him, he tried harder and harder to save everyone, victim and suspect alike, and yet it was an impossibility that he couldn’t bear.

Nearly every case they came across he felt himself spiraling, before regaining at least a semblance of composure. The up and down was exhausting.

On top of that, everyone knew. The entire team. And every time they caught his eye it felt like he was being pitied, which he knew wasn’t true, at least 100 percent of time, but his brain wouldn’t shut up and he couldn’t take it.

Morgan offered to take him out for drinks, but Spencer was too afraid of swapping one addiction for another. JJ insisted he could call her at any time for any reason. Garcia had even been giving him unsolicited, wordless hugs that held on for just a little longer than normal.

Spencer had the entire team behind him and yet he still felt like he was drowning. The worst was when he took it out on Olivia, without whom he’d still be knee deep in drugs if not dead.

“Olive, I’m fine! Can you please stop asking?”

He turned to see the hurt on her face and immediately hated himself. “Sorry, I’m sorry, Liv.” With his head in his hands, he sat next to her on the couch. “I’m not fine. I don’t know, I-“

“Spence, talk to me. What’s being going on in therapy lately?”

She’d convinced him to talk with a therapist thankfully. It took some convincing, but he finally went and he seemed to be making progress, but then he stagnated. “We talk about what happened with Hankle mostly. How to move past it. How to make the nightmares stop. And it seemed to be helping, but now I’m getting angry again.”

“You craving more lately?”

“Yea,” he mumbled.

“What’s making you crave? Is it the cases? We’ve had worse.” Olivia rubbed his back as he tried to process the trains of thought that were barreling toward each other at Mach speed.  

Spencer leaned back into the couch and stared forward, his eyes vacant, yet his mind going crazy. “When Hankle was drugging me I kept thinking of my mom. All the ways I let her down.”

“Let her down? Spence, you’ve been the most amazing son. What could you possibly have to feel guilty about in that respect?” Olivia hated seeing the man she loved so tortured by guilt.

As if reliving the situation brought back the pain, he began to massage his arms, almost hugging himself. “I put her in a home. I started working a job thousands of miles away. I barely see her anymore.”

“Spence, you’re a grown man living your life,” Olivia assured him, leaning her head on his arm. “You made sure she has only the best in care. You write her letters every day. Even through her illness, she talks about you to her nurses and the other patients all the time. She knows how much you love her.”

“Still doesn’t make me feel less guilty.” A tear fell from the corner of his eye and Olivia wiped it away with the pad of her thumb. “It just brought up a lot of repressed guilt. The kind that was just below the surface, you know? Thing was, when I thought of my mom it was always as I was waking up, but when I first got knocked out, it was bliss.” He hated using that word but it’s how he felt. “When you find the right dose, you’re able to make your mind go completely blank. You don’t have to think about anything. Good or bad. I’ve never really found a way to quiet my mind completely and even though I knew taking drugs was bad, I was in a vulnerable place so I guess the strength to say no just wasn’t there…and then it spiraled.”

Olivia kissed his cheek and cuddled up closer to him. “You’re off it now, Spence.”

“I am, but I can’t quiet my mind anymore. With drugs or anything else.”

“Then maybe that’s something you need to address with your therapist,” Olivia suggested. “Ask about coping mechanisms and try and work through the guilt you have about your mom. That seems to be root of how you’re feeling. At least right now. You’re nightmares about Hankle seem to have stopped, right?”

Nodding, Spencer spoke, “For the most part, yes. Maybe once or twice a month. The other part of it is my guilt about shooting him.”

“Spence, it was self defense. I know he was sick, but he wasn’t in control of himself and Raphael was gonna kill you.”

“So I need to work on my guilt and I need a coping mechanism,” he said softly.

Olivia added. “And you need to be completely honest about the guilt about your mom. I can tell you haven’t told her. The only way to move forward is to process everything. And make peace with the fact that sometimes you’ll still think about this. About everything that happened.”

She squeezed his hand tight. “It’s hard,” he said softly, on the verge of tears. “It’s really hard.”

“I know,” Olivia whispered. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

“Thank you, Olive.”

“For what?” She asked.

“For your patience. Just being here. As much as my mother tried, she couldn’t always be there for me. You’re the first person who always has been.”

“And that won’t change. Ever.”

[do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them]

Til the End of the Night / Ch4: In which Virgil and large crowds of people do not get along

Previous / Masterpost / Next 

Summary:  Patton and Virgil explore the town of Deercross. It goes mostly as planned, until it doesn't.

Warnings: sensory overload, panic kinda, allusion to deceit, and Sword Threats

A/N: is that a sleep cameo? yes. yes it is

Read on AO3

Patton pulled Virgil outside and into a bright, sunny morning.  They had to take a minute to adjust after the low lighting of the inn.  Well, Virgil did, at least- Patton just bounced on his toes and looked around, eyes constantly darting from one thing to another as he waited for Virgil to stop shading his eyes with his free hand and glaring through it in the general direction of the sun.  Patton wanted to see everything, so he didn’t particularly mind starting with the café that Virgil, as soon as he could see again, announced that they were going into right now, because he was going to murder someone if he didn’t get some caffeine in his system.  That statement did not help with the weird looks he felt like he was getting, but hey, if people were scared of him they at least might not question his appearance out loud.

Virgil wanted to grab them a table and let Patton handle the talking alone, but they were both at the counter before he could actually say so. He settled for definitely-not-hiding behind his more outgoing friend and letting him order first.  If only he would make a freakin’ decision.

“Virgil Virgil Virgil look!”

“I’m looking.  It’s basically just the Starbucks menu, are you gonna pick something or not?”

“No no, look here!” He pointed to a section at the bottom that Virgil hadn’t previously noticed.  “They have magic drinks!  Should I get one?  I’m gonna get one.”

“If you want.  They look kinda gross, but I won’t stop you.”  Virgil thought it was too early in the morning for this much enthusiasm, or any, actually, but he did live with both Patton and Roman on a day-to-day basis, so it was at least a familiar sort of headache.  And, he would admit, a somewhat endearing one.

“Okay, okay, so-” Patton stood on his toes and leaned his hands on the counter as if the extra inch of height would let him read the signs on the wall better.  “I want that one, y’know, the sparkly thing with all the colors?”

“Gotcha,” the barista responded, not bothering to correct him on what it was called.  Life was too short to care about the names of imaginary coffees.  “That’s a very popular one.  We get the ingredients from the Fae Forest, you know,” he said conversationally as he made the drink.  It was, indeed, very colorful and sparkly.  It was also glowing.

“Really?  What’s that?”

The barista looked surprised, which Patton should have considered an accomplishment.  “Are you serious?  The road out of town runs right by the edge of the forest, how have you not seen it?”

Patton shrugged.  “We came from the other direction.”

“Oh.”  He knew there was no road in the other direction, but again, life was too short to care.  “Well, if you really don’t know, it’s a huge forest full of magical creatures.  I’ve heard about a lot of weird stuff happening in there, especially at night.  Seen some of it, too.”  He slid Patton’s magical coffee across the counter to him.  “Nothing too dangerous, but if you decide to give it a look I’d recommend staying on the path. Now, what do you want, or are you just gonna stand there looking shady?”

Virgil was caught off-guard too severely to register that he should be offended.  “Oh, uh- just a black coffee.”  He couldn’t stand the taste of black coffee, which was exactly why he drank it to wake up.

“Boring.”

Virgil made a face.  “Your mom is boring.”

“Virgil,” Patton chided.  The barista waited until he was distracted by the menu again to turn and stick his tongue out in response.

Something here seemed weird to Virgil, but then again, something always seemed weird to Virgil.  He brushed it off and dug out a handful of coins.  “Tell me which of these to give you, ‘cause somebody explained it yesterday and yet I still have no idea.”

“...Um.”  The barista gave the coins a “yikes” sort of look and awkwardly touched his face in a way reminiscent of what Logan did when he forgot he didn’t have his glasses on. “You know what, on the house this time,” he said quickly, pushing Virgil’s hand away.

“Oh, thank you so much!”  Patton scooped up his drink with a bright smile.  Virgil was going to ask some more questions, like do you actually know how this money works any more than I do and why does a modern coffeeshop even exist in this fantasy world, but they were out the door again before he could do more than shoot the guy a suspicious look.

“Patton, for- how am I supposed to drink this if you won’t let me stand still for two seconds?”

“Oh!  Sorry.” Patton slowed, and Virgil took a long sip of his terrible gross drink, trying not to make a face.  “Forgot yours doesn’t have a straw.  Honestly, I know you don’t even like that, do you want some of mine?”

Virgil eyed it suspiciously and shook his head.  “It looks radioactive, I’m not putting that in my body.  I’m just gonna…”  He downed as much of his coffee as he could at once, grimaced, and threw the rest away. “Yeah, I think I’m awake now. Where are we going?”

Where they were going, evidently, was into every shop on the street.  They ended up with pastries for breakfast, a few cute little trinkets each on Patton’s insistence, and some extra supplies they might eventually need on Virgil’s. And of course, Patton had to talk to everyone.  It was admittedly helpful- they knew now that they would, as they’d suspected, need to go through the mysterious forest to get to Roman- but jeez, all the talking, Virgil was about ready to hide in a dark room for the rest of his life.  One person wouldn’t let him in because he looked suspicious or whatever, which, honestly, he was surprised it only happened once.  Between all that and the fact that he couldn’t seem to avoid constantly bumping into people on the busier streets even though Patton was doing just fine, and they seemed to think he was doing it on purpose, he was getting close to his limit.

But then they went around a corner and found the market. It was an entire double-wide street lined with vendor’s carts of all kinds- bustling with people, of course. Patton’s eyes lit up immediately, while Virgil’s instinct was to cringe.

“Okay so I know you’re tired, so if you don’t wanna do this that’s okay, you can wait here and I’ll just go by myself and--”

“Nope.”  Virgil pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on.  There was no possible future where he watched Patton disappear into that mess and didn’t panic.  “I’ll come, just- this has to be the last thing we do, okay?”  He was pretty sure he could make it through one last crowded area as long as he knew they were going back for a nap immediately afterward.

“Okay!”  Patton grinned, clearly glad he’d decided to go along, and tugged him into the chaos of the market.

Virgil quickly realized he’d made a mistake.  Several mistakes, actually.  He should not have gotten Patton a coffee earlier, because his best friend was not a man who needed any more energy than he already had. He should not have gotten himself a coffee earlier, because the caffeine only ever made him more jittery and nervous and he knew this and yet he always ended up drinking it anyway.  And he absolutely should not have agreed to come and check out the market.

He had never- no, nobody on earth had ever had this bad of a headache before, probably.  There were so many people yelling so many different things over each other, and basically every kind of loud noise in existence, and the sun was really bright still, and if he thought the regular streets were hard to navigate, well, he probably should have taken that as a sign not to go into an even busier one.  With all the widely varied food vendors, even his sense of smell was being assaulted.  If one more person brushed up against him he was gonna snap. Yeah, no, he needed to get out of here right now, it was stupid that he’d ever assumed he would be good for it.

Patton took the first tug on his hand as just Virgil having trouble navigating the crowd again, and slowed down a little to make it easier for him to keep up.  Normally he would look back to check on him, but if he did that now he’d run right into somebody for sure!  The next one, though, was hard enough to make him stop and turn around, letting the flow of people part on either side of him.  Virgil wasn’t quite looking at him so much as just to the left of his head.  He seemed really tense.  The hand that wasn’t in Patton’s was clenched in his pocket, the hood of his jacket was up, and his jaw was tight.

“Virgil?  You, uh, you okay, kiddo?”

Virgil shook his head and jerked his hand away so he could cross his arms, tapping his fingers on his elbow in agitation.  “This is- too much,” he managed.  Patton strained to hear him over the noise of the market. “Just- loud and bright and- people,” he explained with a slightly disgusted tone.

“If you don’t wanna be here anymore we can leave,” Patton assured him.  He went to squeeze Virgil’s shoulder before remembering that would probably just make things worse right now.  “Just keep close behind me if you can’t deal with my hand, okay?  Wouldn’t want either of us getting lost!”

Virgil nodded impatiently, taking a small step toward him so as to demonstrate that he would stay close.  Patton made another aborted move to touch him and grabbed his own wrist to make himself stop doing that.  Personal space hadn’t really been in his vocabulary before he started spending more time with Virgil, okay, this was actually progress.  He offered a sympathetic look instead, then turned and started forging a path through the chaos in the direction of the nearest side street, keeping up a constant stream of “sorry!” and “excuse me!” under his breath.

People were annoyed with Patton for pushing through against the flow of traffic, but he was at least apologizing, and anyway, he had the kind of face that made everyone who saw him think he was probably fundamentally incapable of ill intent.  Virgil, following in his wake and knocking people even further off balance, had none of that going for him.  He was just trying to make it to a quieter street without shutting down entirely, he did not have the mental energy to make sure no one was upset with him for briefly inconveniencing them.  If he was lucky, no one would care enough to make a scene.  Unfortunately for everyone involved, luck was not on his side.

Just as he was wondering if people were going to get mad at him, and debating the pros and cons of trying to get actual human words to come out of his mouth to keep that from happening, he knocked shoulders fairly hard with some guy trying to buy tomatoes.  The guy dropped everything he was holding and swore, turning to glare at the inconsiderate moron who jolted him.  Virgil didn’t look remorseful enough to keep him from getting pissed, apparently.  “Watch it, jerkface,” tomato guy snapped, and gave him a shove in retaliation before starting to gather his fallen produce.

Virgil wasn’t caught off guard exactly, but he didn’t have much room to move, so the push sent him stumbling to the side and almost knocking over a few more people.  “Sorry,” he forced out, even though that time was not his fault.  He wasn’t sure anyone heard him either way.  He got his footing back and looked around wildly. “Patton?  Where’d you-?  Patton, PATTON!”

Oh, no, no, no. Not the demonic voice thing, not now.  Everyone was staring at him.  The only silver lining was that one, people were at least giving him some space now, and two, Patton definitely heard that if he hadn’t very recently gone deaf.  He slapped a hand over his mouth- voluntarily, for once- hoping to mitigate the damage.  Everyone around was still watching him, just watching, and further back in the crowd there were whispers he couldn’t make out, but knew were about him.  He didn’t dare speak again, even to defend himself.  He was frozen in place by the thought that any move he made could be taken as a threat and get him killed.  He could have cried from relief when he heard a familiar voice and caught a glimpse of blue moving his way.

“Excuse me, coming through, sorry, it’s- look I really am sorry for pushing okay but this is a little more important!  Virgil! Virge, I’m so sorry I lost you, are you--”  Patton shouldered past the circle of onlookers and gasped.

His soft, but stressed shadowling was covered in actual shadows.  Scraps of darkness were flitting frantically around Virgil, concentrated at his feet and around his hands and arms.  He didn’t seem to notice them.  A few darted briefly in Patton’s direction before returning to the swarm, and he tried not to flinch.  He took a cautious step forward, and saw people at the edge of his vision looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Virge, sweetie, I need you to stay calm…”  He caught a panicked version of that twist Virgil’s mouth did when he was amused.  “Oh, you know what I mean.  Just, focus on me, okay, ignore everything else, that’s it…”  Slowly, he advanced another step, holding his hands up in front of him like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.  It even seemed to be working.  Virgil’s posture was starting to open up ever so slightly.  He felt good about the odds of no one getting hurt here, as long as nothing else went…

“Oi!  You, in the black, don’t move!  Don’t you know dark magic is forbidden in Deercross?!”

...wrong.  Both their heads snapped toward the sound of town guards approaching with swords drawn and a lot of bluster.  Patton couldn’t help feeling a pang of empathy for them- they must not get much trouble around here, they were probably scared and trying to hide it. He was much more worried, though, about Virgil, who was desperately looking for an escape route, shadows swirling faster than ever.  There were no gaps in the crowd, though, not even for someone his size, he was trapped, and they were drawing closer as the desire to watch what happened next overpowered their fear.  The jerky movements and darting eyes that should have clearly showed he was as scared as they were, if not more so, only fueled the people’s mutters, now loud enough for Patton to make out.

Dark magic.

Some sort of villain, no doubt.

Shouldn’t let his kind into town.

Evil.

Patton ran to try and intercept the three guards- this didn’t have to turn bad, he could still salvage the situation.  “Wait, please!” he shouted over the noise.  The guards didn’t seem to hear him, so he raised his voice a little more.  “Let me explain, he wasn’t trying to hurt anybody, he would never, this is all a, a big misunderstanding--”  They didn’t even acknowledge him, not even when he was right next to them.  He grabbed one’s arm only to be shaken off. Desperately, he ducked under it and stood between them and Virgil, arms spread.  “Would you just listen!” he screamed, tears pricking his eyes.  “He’s not a villain, he’s my friend!”

“Stand aside,” one of the guards said to him, not unkindly. “I don’t know how this wizard managed to gain your trust, but I can tell you he is not truly your friend.  Now, please, step aside, we don’t need innocents getting hurt.”

“No! I won’t--”

“Do it, Patton,” Virgil ground out.  He couldn’t let Patton get hurt trying to protect him, that would be a whole new level of sucking at his job.  Patton had no intention of obeying, yet found himself doing so anyway.  That voice was scary, alright?  Wait, no, he wasn’t scared of Virgil, that was ridiculous.  Compelling, that was the word.  His brain didn’t catch up with his body until he was standing at the edge of the circle.

He spun around and let out an involuntary sharp cry. Virgil was hunched in on himself, practically at the center of a dark vortex, his eyes wild and a hand pressed to his mouth.  The guards were advancing on him cautiously, they still had swords out, they were going to hurt him oh god-

Several things happened at once.

Patton yelled incoherently and threw himself, yet again, at the nearest guard.  The furthest guard from him made a grab for Virgil. Last and most importantly, there was a loud crackle of electricity.  Everyone standing nearby was thrown forcefully back as a sphere six feet in diameter, made of something resembling black lightning, expanded out from Virgil in a fraction of a second.

Patton narrowly avoided cracking his head on the ground when he fell.  “Oh, shoot,” he said with feeling.  He pushed himself to his feet and ran up to the sphere, ignoring everything else.  “Virgil!” He tried to bang on the forcefield with his palm, but it shocked him and he pulled back with a yelp.  “Are you- can you hear me in there, kiddo? Virge?”  An edge of panic was creeping into his voice.  “What- what did you do?  What is this?”

“Funny,” said a voice behind him, “I was going to ask you that question.”  He turned around.  Only one guard was standing, the other two having not yet recovered from the blast. That one, though, was plenty to worry about, because he had his sword pointed shakily at Patton’s chest.

Patton backed up until a warning static-like tingle told him he was about to bump into the sphere.  “Okay, this, uh, this isn’t as bad as it might look,” he insisted, holding his hands up placatingly.  “I- I can explain!”

The guard got his nerves under control and brought the sword up until the tip was no more than a few inches from Patton’s throat, holding it steady.  “I certainly hope you can.”

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 20 (light fluff)

Warning: harsh language, violence

I had just arrived at the hospital when my phone rang. I turned it off without looking, being in a hospital, and all, which was a very stupid mistake. I visited Bee and sat with her for an hour, talking about this and that, and left her in a much better state than she had been in yesterday. There had been no news from the police (and I very much doubted they’d be actually able to catch the culprits), but she didn’t seem to care too much.

“It’s not the first time I start over, you know”, she had said, and given me one of her mischievous smiles.  But she still got drowsy pretty quickly from the meds, so I didn’t have a guilty consciousness when I left her that early.

When I started my phone I saw I had about 35 missed calls from Penny. I phoned him back, but apparently he didn’t have a signal. He had just written me a message that he was in the cistern. I headed there as fast as I could, and arrived at the place where it all started covered in dirt (because of course I had to slip a couple of times), with gashes all over my arms and faces (hugged some trees too) and completely out of breath.

As soon as I could I screamed for him, increasingly worried something might have happened to him. My voice echoed through the large cistern, jumping between the piles of junk, and mingled with the clouds of white breath as I kept on huffing. I didn’t see him, but once the echo died out I heard noises behind the huge pile in the middle of the cistern. Relieved, I started to make my way over the discarded items, shifting them around to avoid tripping once more. But, once I got to the other side, there was no one there.

“Pennywise?”, I shouted again. Still, there was no answer, but the noises grew louder. I turned toward the garbage mountain, and briefly noticed a large wooden screen. It bore fading letters and a portrait, but before I could read them it fell forwards, revealing a stage with some fiery backgrounds. Merry organ music started to play and fireworks went off, adding their own rhythm to the creepy melody. And then he jumped on the stage, dancing around while his eyes looked crazier than I ever had seen them before. He cackled and giggled, shaking his head, waving at me, and performed some sort of jig. Faster and faster did the music play, faster and faster he went.

Then he lunged at me.

“Penny, are you okay?”, I managed to gasp as he picked me up and started  swinging us around in a tempo that could rival any roller coaster.

He laughed in my ear. “Don’t you know I’m the dancing clown?”

“Well, that’s how you introduced yourself to me…”

He only stopped briefly to gently place me on my old favorite spot, before he took up jumping around like crazy. Of course he splashed me from head to toe. By now he was going so fast he almost seemed to blur.

“What’s the matter with you? Are you sure you are okay?” I mean, he was laughing and all, but there definitely was something else going on.

“I am lightning, I am speed. I am everything you need”, he sang with a cracking, high-pitched voice, once more increasing his pace. “Try to catch me; no, you won’t. Now you see me, now you…”

All of a sudden he was gone.

“Don’t!”

Before I could react his arms wrapped around me, squeezing me so hard I could no longer breathe, and hurled me around once more. If he kept on going I’d throw up for sure.

“Pennywise! I’m worrying here.”

“My little human pet is worrying, how cuuuuuu~te!”

“Was it that meat I gave you? Are you having some sort of allergic reaction to it?”

“Oh, it was boooooring. But eadible. But booooooring!”

“Okay, well, please let me down then, I’m gonna…”

Too late.

But it made him stop, and he steadied me while I was retching.

“My poor baby’s sick”, he crooned, “Pennywise was bad, Pennywise must be punished.”

I would have loved to tell him to stop that nonsense, but my mouth was still busy with other things. I couldn’t even shake my head. He kept on blaming himself, and the minute I was done he started running around again, rambling about proper punishments.

“There’s no need for any of that”, I assured him. “Just tell me why you are so jittery. I’m worried it might from some stuff in the meat (it’s not exactly high quality). Have you ever had problems with junkies?” He technically hadn’t confirmed that he actually ATE humans, but I was 99.9 percent sure he did, so there was no point sugarcoating it.

He shook his head so quickly I could see nothing but a red streak.

“Nonono, never had a problem. I’m fast. I’m superfast. I’msofastmygirldoen’tevenunderstandhaha…” He spoke so fast his words slurred together until his speech resembled a monotone hum.

“Well, did you like it, then? Are you less hungry?”, I interrupted.

“Hunger never goes away, little one.” His eyes flashed yellow as he stared at me.

“Well, what else could it be?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just reallyfastreallyreallyfast…”

Here we go again. By now he was shifting forms again, and it was fascinating to watch. Tentacles blossomed on his face, which in turn grew thorns as they slithered all around him. Fins in all colors popped up.  His hands changed to furry claws, only to be replaced by pinchers in the next second. He grew extra legs that suddenly became skinny wings. It was absolutely mesmerizing and distracted me for several minutes.

But when he trampled over the empty white boxes, I was reminded of the problem at hand. An idea crossed my mind.

“Penny, could it be… that the mocca was too strong for you?”

He stopped dead, the horns slowly retracting into his forehead again.

“Nononono. Impossible. It was delicious.”

“You just had one, though, right? I mean, caffeine shouldn’t have so much impact on you…”

My voice trailed away as I stared at Penny. He had cast down his eyes and a little wrinkle had formed between the two indentions that replaced his eyebrows. He definitely looked guilty.

I mustered all my strength, straightened my back and asked him with the severest voice I could muster: “Pennywise? What did you do while I was at the hospital?”

He mumbled something.

“A little louder, please.”

“I went back to that room…”

“And?”

“Had more?”

I stared at him. He had actually gone back to the coffee shop? What had he done to the employees? And how did he pay? In response a hundred-dollar-bill appeared in his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He held out the bill to me, and I took it. It looked, felt and smelled like real money to me. The cistern started spinning around me.

Penny was able to produce money.

What. The. Heck.

Something like a whimper escaped his mouth. He very much reminded me of a puppy that had been caught doing something forbidden.

“I had another 40”, he finally admitted.

I had to clutch at the junk next to me to keep myself steady.

“YOU DRANK 40 CUPS OF MOCCHA!?”

He just nodded, quick enough to once more blur into a red streak.

“Jeez, you do realize that you would be in hospital now if you were human, do you?”

I pressed my hands into my temples. Apparently immortals do not differ that much from us after all. Pennywise just had a real bad caffeine high.

“Okay, listen, that’s the caffeine from the coffee. That’s why we drink it in the first place – it gives you energy and wakes you up. That’s why you feel so… fast, do you understand?” I sighed. “There’ll be no other choice then to wait till the effects wear off.”

He nodded, looking slightly relieved I was no longer yelling at him.

So I spent the next two hours in the cistern with a Pennywise on speed (well, not exactly). He continued jumping around, dancing and singing. (Something about blood on the streets, and yummy kids, and about coming to get me – I didn’t listen to intently.) At least he didn’t spin me around again, but he came up to cuddle for several seconds before running off to use his extra energy. He rearranged some piles of the junk (meaning he turned into different creatures and wrecking through them), tried playing one of the games on my phone, asked me to read to him, and then, when I finally found a book amongst the trash, he was running around again.

It was exhausting, and not really in a good way either.

When he finally seemed to calm down for a bit, I invited him over to my house. Auntie wouldn’t come home till midnight, so there was no worrying about a second take on the embarrassing morning  meeting. Penny was really eager to hang out in my room again, and so we were on our way.

By the time we reached our little house ( he had assumed his human form again, though very grudgily), the last effects wore off. He collapsed on my bed, not exactly changing form, more like slowly melting out of it, and sighed.

“I think I’m dying, little one.”

“No, you’re not. That’s just the caffeine going away. You’re probably very tired now”, I chided gently. He looked at me sadly, entirely unconvinced this wouldn’t be the end of his existence. I cuddled up next him and started stroking his cheek.

“But that’s a good way to die”, he purred and leaned into my hand.

“You’re not dying, silly, You can’t, right? You are a part of Derry.”

I wasn’t exactly sure where that came from, but it just felt true. Penny closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around me. In the warmth of his embrace I drifted away into comforting darkness.

The next chapter will be a long one, I promise!

[sweetnestor]

You Look Happier | Chapter 11

university au, teamiplier + jack

platonic/romance/angst/smut(only on ao3)

previous chapter

Despite the “driving lessons” I had done with Mark, I still found myself wide awake the night before the trip. I wouldn’t stop being anxious about it until it was actually happening. In a way, the insomnia was almost beneficial because by the time I had to be awake, I wasn’t even the slightest bit tired.

I got out of bed the second my alarm went off. My mind was buzzing with everything I had to get ready, so for a moment, I wasn’t entirely riddled with anxiety from head to toe. I made sure my clothes were packed, my sweaters were in place, and my bathroom necessities were in order. Then I stuck my head out there door and listened for commotion from my roommate. Once I heard footsteps and movements, I went to the bathroom to do my makeup.

Never thought I would make myself up at four in the morning. There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.

Somehow, I was still wide awake by the time I was ready to go. Jack, on the other hand, was quiet and grumpy for the entire ride to Mark’s house.

When we got there, I noticed an unfamiliar SUV parked in the driveway. Figured it was the rental we all pitched in for. Not long after I parked in front of the house, I saw another car creep up from behind. Tyler, Kathryn, and Ethan. More reasons to unintentionally stay awake all night.

“Morning guys,” Tyler greeted when we all got out of the cars.

We mumbled back a greeting. Jack was clearly sleepy, and I was in a bad mindset as always.

Just then, Mark and Amy came out of the house, rolling their luggage behind them. They both looked exhausted. After exchanging greetings, Mark unlocked the SUV and went to open the back compartment. Then, everyone began to load their luggage.

“You mind taking the first round?” Mark asked me after stowing his suitcase away.

“Not at all,” I replied, sounding unusually upbeat.

He noticed this. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope! Can I have the keys?” I smiled, holding my hand out.

Mark put the set in my hands with a look of uncertainty. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No offense, but I look and feel more alive than the rest of you guys.” Fake it til you make it, right? Wide awake, but crying inside.

“You’re the pretty one of the group, so it’s no surprise,” added Ethan, who came up from behind me.

Mark scoffed and mumbled, “I’m prettier,” before going to help Amy with her luggage.

My heart rate accelerated for a split second. I looked at Ethan, wanting to scold him for making such a risky comment.

“Dude,” I said quietly. “We agreed.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied just as softly. Then he gestured for me to follow him off to the side. “I know we’re gonna tell everyone when we come back. But I’m really excited about it, and I don’t know if I’ll make it the whole weekend.”

“You have to,” I warned. “If Mark finds out on this trip and he takes it badly, then we’re stuck with him being angry all weekend.”

“I think he’ll take it well,” Ethan told me with a shrug. “But I’ll wait. I’ll stick to the plan.”

I nodded once. “Good.”

Before either of us could say anything else, someone joined the conversation. I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder, fearing for a split second that we had been caught. But it was only Jack, who barely batted an eye at my physical reaction.

“We’re all ready to go,” he told us.

I shot one last look at Ethan before going to the vehicle.

I was driving for the first few hours. Mark was the passenger seat. Tyler, Amy, and Jack were in the backseat/middle row. Ethan and Kathryn sat in the very back, the third row. Eight hours with all of them. I took a deep breath and prayed to some higher entity that this would go well.

~

“Hey, can you pull over?” asked Tyler. “I’m feeling sick.”

“Oh, are you?” I replied, turning on the hazard lights and pulling to the side of the road.

It was a good three hours of silent driving. I had my music playing quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping team. The unfamiliar road had kept me distracted, as well as make me think of every Final Destination-related disaster scenario. But for the most part, my nerves weren’t too bothersome.

Once Tyler got out of the car, the rest of the group seemed to come back to life. Jack and Ethan stretched their arms upwards while Kathryn and Amy shifted in their seats.

“I’m getting coffee from the back,” Mark announced. “Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll go with you,” Jack said as he took off his seatbelt.

That prompted for all of us to get out of the car. I opened my door and extended my legs, making my knees pop. It felt good, but now that I wasn’t driving, the lack of sleep was hitting me.

“Baller, you want anything?” called Jack from the back of the car.

Coffee would be good. But if Mark took over and started driving, then coffee would be bad. I also definitely could not fall asleep while someone else was driving, though. I was fucked either way.

I got onto my feet and started to pace, trying to wake myself up. I blinked back the heaviness in my eyes and went to the trunk of the car.

“Water?” I asked, resisting the urge to yawn or rub my eyes.

Jack reached into the mini cooler and pulled out a water bottle. “You okay?”

“I’m on fire,” I replied.

“You want me to take over?” asked Mark.

I shook my head. “I can keep going.”

“You haven’t slept, though.”

“And I won’t until we get there.”

He looked at me for a second. “Yeah, I’m taking the next round. And Tyler’s gonna sit in the front since he’s sick.”

Suddenly, I wished this water was patron. Suddenly, I wanted to teleport to the Grand Canyon so I could fling myself off the edge. Here we fucking go.

“We’re gonna have a rowdy time in the back seat,” Ethan sarcastically said as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah, we’re gonna party!” Jack added, bouncing on his feet.

Now everyone was more awake and alive than I was. It was daunting. I was starting to feel the dark storm cloud form above my head. It was getting out of my control.

After a few minutes of stretching and waking up, we all got back in the car. I was in the second row, in the window seat behind the driver. Everything started to feel like it was going in slow motion. I breathed rapidly, but not loudly, through my nose. I tensed visibly when the car started to move. I was also fighting off tears, and my heart was palpitating. I kind of wanted to die.

“Drink your water,” Jack gently reminded me.

I was petrified, though. I was too scared to move. My eyes just stayed glued to the crack between the side of the vehicle and the driver’s headrest, watching the road. Everything sounded muffled, but I did catch Ethan saying something to Jack. Then, I felt a hand go over mine, squeezing gently. I took Jack’s fingers and returned the pressure.

“Should we stop?” asked Mark, who had probably seen the gesture through the mirror.

I lightly shook my head. I didn't want to inconvenience anyone. I drove with Mark one-on-one for this very reason. I had to be capable. I had to control this in whatever way I could.

“What do you need?” Jack asked me.

I sighed heavily, thinking about what was bothering me. The constant sound of the wind hitting the car was particularly stressful.

“My headphones,” I said at last. “I left them in the glove department.”

He reached over and tapped Tyler on the shoulder. Then, he was passing over my black, sleek headphones.

“Anything else?” Jack prompted again.

I shook my head as I plugged the cord into my phone. Finally, I had music to distract me. I decided to make a playlist.

~

My appetite had gone as well. The next stop was at a McDonald’s in Needles, California. It was around ten in the morning by now, and everyone was tired of the granola bars from the back. I, on the other hand, could have lived off of those for the whole weekend. I just had to find my way around every meal.

“Are you getting anything?” asked Ethan when we were inside the establishment.

“Nah, I don’t really eat breakfast,” I replied. “I’m good on just coffee.”

“You sure?” he pressed, his voice slowing down, like he was carefully choosing his words.

He’s tiptoeing. I couldn’t blame him, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. I was perfectly capable.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll be in the bathroom,” I said coldly before walking off.

As soon as I was alone, a wave of guilt went over me. I sighed and looked in the mirror. Then I distracted myself by touching up my makeup. I dug through my purse for my powder, but quickly grew frustrated and winded up dumping the contents onto the counter between the two sinks. Once I found what I was looking for, I heard one of the toilets flush and out came Amy from a stall. Great.

She didn’t pay any mind until she saw the mess I made. “Oh…”

“Sorry, my bag is an endless void,” I said as I gathered my stuff to one side.

“Relatable.” Amy chuckled as she turned on one sink. “Are you doing okay?”

Here we go again.

“I’m more okay when people don’t ask if I’m okay,” I replied, but then I felt bad. “Sorry, nothing against you. It’s just tiring when people treat you like a time bomb.”

“Gotcha. It’s just… your hands are shaking.”

I hadn’t noticed until she said it. I had to show that I was fine. “They always shake. Comes with the combination of mental illness and caffeine.���

“I thought you didn’t have any coffee, though.”

Shit.

I stayed quiet as I powdered the oily parts of my face.

~

I drove the rest of the way over there, and I chugged a coffee in order to stay awake. While I was jittery and hyperaware of my surroundings and the noise in my brain, my new car anxiety playlist helped diffuse it. Basically, I sang my freaking heart out for the last four hours.

After paying for parking and finding a space, we all went out into the bitter cold. Although, once I was outside, my legs ached with chills. I crossed my arms and joined the group at the trunk, where they were packing their backpacks with snacks and water.

“Forty degrees!” exclaimed Kathryn.

“Shit,” I breathed out.

“You good, Baller?” Jack asked, amused as he put his arm around me.

“Shouldn’t have worn leggings,” I replied, unconsciously huddling into his side.

“I have sweatpants, do you wanna borrow them?” Ethan offered. “You can wear them over your leggings.”

Oh god, he really wants to expose us, doesn’t he?

“Yeah, you’re not going to survive with one layer on your legs,” Mark added.

“I’m getting them,” Ethan concluded as he dug through the trunk for his suitcase.

“Fine,” I sighed.

Jack kept me in his embrace, and neither of us paid any mind until it was brought to attention.

“You guys dating?” Tyler asked as he put bottles of water into his backpack.

“No, we’re just close,” I replied.

“Um, sweetheart,” Jack said, sounding mock offended. “How long more are we going to hide our undying love for each other from our friends?”

I chuckled, but decided to play along. “Okay fine.” I turned to the group and took Jack’s hand. “We’ve eloped. We’re helplessly in love and we have three kids. The secret’s out, my legal name is now Bella Santiago-McLoughlin.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized you were going to hyphenate,” Jack went on, still not sounding happy.

“Wow, congratulations,” Mark said with a laugh, but he didn’t seem too amused.

“Sweatpants!” announced Ethan, holding the article of clothing in the air. Then he handed them over to me.

I detached from my loving husband and took the pants from my boyfriend. When I put them on, I felt instantly better, from both the warmth and the fact that it was the first time wearing his clothes.

After that, we all ventured towards the Visitor Center, where there was a series of shuttle stops. Shuttles. To take us to various parts of the canyon. Public transportation. With other people. I looked down at my water bottle, hoping I could pull a Jesus and turn it into wine, or something stronger. Obviously, I couldn’t make the whole team walk around everywhere, I had no choice but to get on with them. Somehow I survived.

It wasn’t until after a first stop at one edge did I realize how high we were. We were dropped off at a ledge with very little people. There was a sign that explained some history on this section of the Grand Canyon, and a small barrier.

I pretended to focus on the sign while everyone else went to the fence. Ethan, Kathryn, and Tyler immediately started taking pictures with their phones. Mark, Amy, and Jack were just taking in the view. I took a picture of all of them, their backs to the camera, and posted it on Snapchat. “When you’re too scared to look over the edge.”

I wonder how many people killed themselves here. Okay, edgelord. Come back to earth. And leap over that fence. Oh, fuck off.

By the time I worked up the courage to approach, the boys went further down the area, near some trees. So it was just me, Kathryn, and Amy. I was more focused on the view.

The Grand Canyon looked like a painting. The other end looked like a mural against a giant wall. I couldn’t really comprehend how huge this place was, nor how big the drop was. Somehow, it was less scary that way.

“I feel so small,” Kathryn commented, looking out at the view.

“Let’s take a selfie!” Amy suggested as she pulled out her phone. “I actually bought a selfie stick, and I gotta use it! Over here!”

She led us over to where the fence ended. Concrete turned to stone, and my heart rate spiked. I suddenly slowed my steps, hesitating while my mind got louder.

“Come on,” Kathryn coaxed as she took my wrist. “We’re all shitting our pants here. Let’s do this quickly.”

Amy put her phone on her selfie stick and then put on her sunglasses. “Smile!”

We were facing the sun with the canyon behind us. I shut my eyes, smiled wide, and held onto Kathryn’s arm for dear life. As soon as the picture was taken, we ran away from the edge like a bunch of maniacs.

It was a small thing, and a lot of people had the same fear of heights as I did, but I felt the slightest bit of pride once I had calmed down. I was very far from home, and I stood on the edge of one of the world’s biggest drops. I was experiencing a bad case of nerves, yes, but I hadn’t spiraled into a full blown panic attack. I was okay.

The three of us met up with the four boys in the roundabout. Then we went on another shuttle to a more isolated part of the area. There wasn’t a fence or railing of any kind here, which only made my intrusive thoughts louder.

“Oh, there’s a path we can take back to the Visitor Center,” said Tyler, who was reading a map. “It’s two miles.”

“Let’s go ‘splorin’!” Amy said excitedly.

So we did. We stayed in a group, with Mark and Tyler mostly leading the way. I stayed towards the back, just like at uni. The view was nice, there were red rocks and bluebirds everywhere. I wasn’t as cold anymore, now that I had been moving. My mind was less noisy as long as I didn’t look directly at the canyon.

“Whoa, there’s underground caves we can explore too!” Jack exclaimed. He was reading a pamphlet he got when we first arrived to the national park.

“Yikes,” I said in response.

That was enough for everyone to scrap the idea. Thank god.

Every now and again, we would stop at a particularly exciting ledge. Mark, Tyler, and Jack would stand at the very edge of the cliff for the thrill of it. Again, my mind was at full volume. Please don’t jump off. Or do. That would be fun. Shut up!

It was worse when Ethan decided to join them. He stepped through the mud, over to the wide open terrain. If I reacted, would I end up exposing us? I mean, he was a hair away from life and death, after all. It made sense, right?

“Mark, be careful!” Amy called.

Could I do that?

Ethan quickly turned and got away from the edge after a minute or so. “Nope!”

He was the only one to notice my sigh of relief, and I gave him a look. He responded by quickly squeezing my hand. What I needed was to hug him tight, but that couldn’t happen until later.

~

After the hike, we took another shuttle to one of the restaurants at the park. Now, I was hungry. I was starving, and it hurt. And I was very fucking tired.

Thankfully, it wasn’t busy when we got there. It was still a little too early for dinner. Once we were seated, I looked around for the bathroom. Then I looked for an emergency exit. They were right next to each other, towards the back of the restaurant. The tables surrounding those two doors were empty for now, so I had an easy getaway.

However, as time went on, the vicinity started to fill up. Things slowly started to get more and more hectic, and there was less and less space, making me feel cramped. I started to feel how I did in the car. The tables by the bathroom were getting occupied. Okay, I stood at the edge of a cliff today, yet a crowded restaurant was going to be the thing to break me.

I blacked out through dinner, so surely I didn’t burst into tears and ruin everything. Next thing I knew, we were on a shuttle back to the Visitor Center. I felt like I was a million miles away. I felt pins and needles in my hands and feet. The only time I made a coherent sentence was when I asked if I could drive to the hotel.

It was a shorter ride than I had anticipated. We checked in and got to our rooms, which were coincidentally on the same floor… right next door and across from each other. Jack and I roomed together. Ethan and Tyler were on the room to our left, Kathryn was across from us, and Mark and Amy were on our right. What a happy coincidence.

I knocked out almost as soon as I hit the bed. Being awake for thirty two consecutive hours had finally hit me. It was like my anxiety attack disappeared, and sleep took over.

When I woke up, there was someone next to me. Even in my groggy state, it startled me. I jumped and gasped, only to discover Ethan lying asleep next to me. Or… his eyes were half open, so I couldn’t really tell. I sat up on my elbows, looking at his face in thought. Suddenly, the picture he sent from PAX South made sense. I waved my hand in front of his face, which made him stir.

“Sorry,” I said gently. So he was asleep. Weird.

He groaned as he stretched his limbs, and then he swiftly rolled over and climbed over half my body. He lied his head on my chest and sleepily mumbled, “Titties…”

I chuckled and then quickly scanned the room. The other bed was empty, but I did hear the water running. “Is Jack here?”

“Showering,” Ethan replied, his cheek pressed rather painfully on my breast. Thankfully, he sat up. “I came to see you after we settled in, but you were asleep. So I decided to nap with you. Nap date!”

“Best date ever,” I said as I stroked the side of his face. “Good napping! Where does your roommate think you are?”

“Editing videos in the lobby,” he said, somewhat guilty. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Anyway...” He moved a strand of hair from my face, his eyes trailing down my face. Then, he planted a soft kiss on my lips. “I wanted to do that all day.”

My face heated up at that. And all I wanted to do all day was pass out. What a good girlfriend I am.

Just then, we heard the bathroom door open. Ethan quickly rolled off of me right as Jack came around the corner. He caught wind of the tension though, like he had caught us doing something scandalous.

“Don't worry, I'm on my way out,” he told us as went to his suitcase on his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” I said.

“WiFi’s better in the lobby,” he replied. “I have some stuff to take care of.”

“Cool, have fun!” Ethan exclaimed.

Jack chuckled as he grabbed his laptop and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “All I ask is that you kids stay off my bed! And use protection!”

I groaned and rolled onto my front to hide how red my face had gone.

“Understood, Mr. Bella’s Dad, sir,” Ethan said.

I kept my face hidden until I heard Jack’s laughter go out the door. When I looked up, I found Ethan on his side, looking down at me. I smiled and reached for his hand.

“Thanks for letting me use your sweats today,” I told him. “You’ll never get them back.”

He chuckled. “I figured. Take care of them, they’re super comfortable.”

We hadn’t had a moment like this since Valentine’s Day. Even when we finally had a weekend off, we were still busy and had little time for each other. I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax here, knowing that we could get caught at any moment, but I did enjoy the time alone.

“How many layers are you wearing?” Ethan asked as he took the end of my sweater. “Aren’t you warm?”

He started to unzip me, and it felt a lot more intimate than it should have been. Then, he placed his hand inside my sweater, and leaning in to kiss my jaw. Of course, that all added to the angry bout of nerves tangled in my stomach. I was so anxious it actually hurt my lower abdomen.

Wait…

“Ethan,” I said, tapping his arm.

“Hmm?”

“I have to use the bathroom.”

He leaned back, a confused look on his face. But he let me go anyway. “Okay…”

I got up and dashed off to the small bathroom. Just as I had suspected, Mother Nature left me a present, and it made me groan in annoyance. Mildly embarrassed, I went back to the door and opened it a crack, peering my head out. “Ethan? Can you do me a favor?”

“What do you need?” he called back.

“There’s a bag in my suitcase,” I explained, internally cowering. “It’s black and has cats on it. Can you bring it?”

He did it without question. Surely he would know what was inside the bag just by looking at the design, right? I couldn’t help but feel mildly embarrassed regardless, despite that this was a way to test him. He passed, he didn’t get squeamish or weird when I returned to bed curled up in a fetal position.

“Aww, is someone getting menstrual cramps?” he cooed as he came around to spoon me.

I groaned in response, wanting to sink into the mattress.

“Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need anything?” he asked, more concerned now.

“No,” I mumbled, turning over so I could curl into his chest. I felt really gross and uncomfortable now that the symptoms were kicking in. “I’m fine.”

My phone suddenly dinged, and I debated ignoring it this time. Ethan was stroking my hair and kissing the top of my head, and it was distracting. But it dinged a second time, and it made me turn to reach for it on the bedside table. Fuck, was I glad to read the texts from Jack.

“Idk how crazy you guys are getting, but Tyler’s looking for the blue boi!”

“We’re going up there now! Put your clothes on! :p”

Panic struck my chest. I quickly sat up and told Ethan what was going on, so we acted fast. I mean, I knew we weren’t doing anything of what Jack was poking fun at, but we still didn’t want to get caught cuddling alone on the bed. I had an idea, so I grabbed my skin care products and rushed him into the bathroom.

By the time Jack came back to the room with Tyler on his tail, they found me applying some black goop onto Ethan’s face.

“What are you doing here?” Tyler asked him.

“Face masks,” he replied simply. “Bella brought some stuff. You want in?”

I offered a smile as I evened out the stuff on his face with a brush. I would have put a mask on myself, but I didn’t have enough time to wash off my makeup. I could only hope it didn’t seem inconspicuous.

“No thank you,” Tyler replied. “I was gonna go get food and see if you wanted to come, but uh, I’ll go ask Kathryn.”

“Bring me something!” Ethan called after him as he left the room.

Jack waited until he heard the door shut. “Guys, I don’t like lying!”

“One more day!” I promised.

“Or, we could have told Tyler now and made him not tell anyone,” Ethan suggested.

“You really think he’d keep it from Mark?” Jack asked in disbelief. “He’s more loyal to him. And anyway, I don’t think Mark would really care that you guys are together.”

“That’s what I keep saying!” Ethan gave me a look.

“One more day!” I repeated.

______

next chapter

[justinvaughan]

Now What? ~ Shiloh

We stood on the sidewalk watching Emma drive off with Sam. I hoped it was the right decision to let her go with him. “Our little chick has left the nest.” I chuckled as we walked to my car. “How about we head back to my place? Unless you’re tired.” I opened the car door for her. “I asked her to text us when she gets home. We could wait together.”

———————-

I hesitated for just a piece of a second but reminded myself that I’d only be passing time while I waited for Emma to text. I smiled and nodded, “Sounds good to me. I mean, I’m pretty sure Sam won’t do anything to her, but still. Sometimes people can hide their feelings and true nature pretty well from others, right?” I bit my lip as several thoughts hit me at once, one of them being how I’m guilty of hiding things from people…okay, mainly Justin.

——————

Once she was settled in the car, I jogged around to my side and got in. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, but I’m not quite ready to end the evening yet either.” I looked over at my companion and gave her a heartfelt smile before driving us over to my place. It didn’t feel quite like any other time we’d taken this drive, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

——————-

Once we were in the car, I suddenly became a bundle of nerves again. I wasn’t sure why. This wasn’t the first time I’d been alone with him or gone to his place. The only thing I could think of was this was the first time for either since I’ve realized I had more than just friendship feelings for him. I peeked over at Justin, thankfully it was dark, and I wasn’t sure he could see me. I was a little surprised when he admitted he wasn’t ready to end the night either. I figured he’d be ready to get home and get to bed because of work. 

—————-

Was she quiet because she really was that tired or maybe she didn’t know what to say? Luckily it was a short drive to my place. Soon I was parking out front. “If you’re too tired, I can still take you home.” I let the car idle while I waited to see what she decided. I wasn’t nervous, but I would be a little disappointed after such a great time at dinner.

———————

I looked over at Justin and shook my head, “I couldn’t sleep now if I tried.” I undid my seatbelt and smiled a little, “Are we going to sit out here all night, or do you plan on going inside? Unless you’re tired? If you are, you can take me home or I can get a cab. I don’t want to be a burden if you’re tired. I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry.” I was rambling, I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to make myself shut up. And of course, since I realized what I was doing, I started blushing. Thankfully the car was still dark.

——————-

“No more caffeine for you.” I chuckled as I turned off the engine and got out of the car before coming around to open her door. “Let’s find a movie and pretend to be nervous parents waiting for their kid to get home.” She laughed and took my hand as we headed inside and up to my apartment. “If you’re good, I might share my chocolate chip cookies with you. Maybe,” I grinned as I opened my door. “Ladies first.”

————-  

I laughed as I walked inside, “Please? I skipped out on dessert because I couldn’t eat anymore. Now, I must have chocolate. Besides, it would be a good distraction from waiting, right?” I followed him to his kitchen, smiling at his laughter. We’d both been so busy lately...and I’d been avoiding him...I didn’t realize how much I missed hanging out with him.

----------------

“I can think of all kinds of distractions,” I smirked as I handed over the box of cookies from the bakery. I might have picked them up this morning in case she came back here. Maybe. “How about some tea? I can fix us some while you take those to the living room. Start looking for a movie?”

————

I was glad my back was already turned to him, if it hadn't been, Justin would have seen my blush at the thoughts that ran through my head at his comment. I called over my shoulder, “What kind of movie are you into tonight? Horror? Comedy? Action?” It didn’t matter to me what we watched, I wasn’t so sure I would be able to focus on the movie anyway.

----------------

“Your choice. I doubt I’ll pay much attention to it honestly.” I got two glasses down and filled them with crushed ice before pouring a fresh batch of sweet tea I made this morning. It should be perfect right about now. I grabbed a couple of napkins since cookies could get messy and then picked up our glasses on my way to join her in the living room.

——————

I smiled as he set my drink down in front of me, “Thank you. I just picked something that we’ve both seen, Avengers. That way if we aren’t really paying attention, we won’t be lost when we do. I hope that’s okay?” I held the remote out to him in case he wanted to change the channel and watch something else. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked for a message from Emma.

-------------------

“Anything yet?” I asked when I saw her pull out her phone. She shook her head as I sat down. “Avengers is perfect.” I took a drink and set my tea down. “So I really had a great time tonight. The food was delicious and I think Sam and Emma hit it off. What do you think?” She had just taken a bite of one of the cookies and crumbs had fallen on her chin. I grinned as I reached over and gently brushed them away with my thumb. “Good, huh?”

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I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he moved his hand away. I was shocked that I could actually pick my glass up without shaking. After taking a sip of my drink, I smiled, “Yeah, really good. Thank you.” I bit my lip as I looked at the movie, then remembered he had asked me another question before I got distracted. “I think they did too. And I’m really happy about that. Sam is really sweet. I think they’d be good together.”

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“Let’s not rush them into anything. Hopefully, they can be friends like you and I are.” Was it my imagination or was Shiloh extra jittery tonight. I reached into the box and broke off half of one of the cookies and offered her the other half. “Is everything ok? You seem more wound up than usual. Did I say or do something wrong tonight?”

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I took the offered cookie and shook my head, “No, you haven’t said or done anything. I guess I just have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry if I’m not great company.” I finished my cookie and took a sip of my drink, “So...how have you been lately? It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this.”

--------------

I reached for the remote and turned the volume down a little. “So what’s on your mind? You know you can talk to me, right? School, friends, money. Whatever it is I may not have the answers but I can listen.” I tucked one of my legs under me so I was facing her. “I missed you too. A lot.”

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I smiled at his words, “I did miss you. I...uh...I’m not sure that I can talk to you about this. No offense. I just...don’t think it would be a good idea.” I pretty much whispered the last part. If I tried talking to Justin about this. I’d lose my friend, and I didn’t want that to happen. But I couldn’t help but wish…

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What could I say to that? “No offense. Right. Well, whatever it is, I hope you find a solution.” I reached for my drink and turn the volume back up a little on the movie. Then I faced forward once more and watched the movie. I pulled my phone out to check for any messages and kept it in my hand.

----------------------------

I sighed. Great. I had just pushed him away while trying not to push him away. Now what? I looked at him for a moment and opened my mouth to say something. Maybe this was for the best? After all, what could he really say if I told him I had feelings for him and he didn’t feel the same way? Sorry? Or worse, if he pitied me, I don’t think I could stand that at all. I always make a mess of things.

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I finished my tea and started to get up. "Want some more tea?" This weird, awkward silence between us was new and annoying. She just shook her head. "Be right back," I said as I headed to the kitchen. I started to pour myself another glass of tea when I noticed a strip of photo booth pictures we had taken together a couple months ago. Both of us were laughing and really happy. I missed that.

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I watched him leave the room and sighed. How could I fix this? We could always talk about anything and everything. Nothing was off limits. I just wasn’t sure how to talk to him about this. What if it changed things for the worse? I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want to remain friends with me knowing I had feelings for him. He would say it wasn’t fair to me. I bit my lip as he walked back in, “I’m sorry, Justin.” That was all I could manage to get out.

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I stopped and gave her an odd look. “Why?” She was just about to say something, I think, when both our phones went off. We read Emma ‘s text at the same time. “Well, if they’re still talking they must be having a good time, huh?” I smiled and put my phone away. “I’m happy for her. She’s a sweetheart. I can take you home whenever you’re ready now.”

——————

I closed my mouth on what I was going to say and shrugged, “Whenever you’re ready for me to go, just say so.” I tucked my phone back into my pocket, “She really is a sweetheart. And so is he. I’m glad it went so well for them tonight. She deserves to be happy. Everyone does, right?”

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“Absolutely. I’m proud of her for taking a chance tonight. She didn’t seem like she was going to go through with it at the bar. But you never know what you might be missing if you don’t gamble once and a while.” I took a seat so I could finish my tea.

———————

I couldn’t help but laugh a little, “True, but there’s always a chance a gamble would hurt more than just being careful. Sometimes, the risk isn’t worth the outcome. You never know what’s going to happen and it isn’t always good. Depending on the risk, you could end up losing someone you care deeply for. Then where would you be?”

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“Alone?” I shrugged and took my glass to the kitchen. After rinsing it and setting it in the sink, I dried my hands and returned to her side. “Anyway, I’m happy for Emma and Sam. Do you want anything more to drink?” I shoved my hands in my pockets and leaned against the door frame. 

———————-

I shook my head and stood, finishing my drink before moving towards the kitchen. When I reached Justin, I looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile a little as I looked into his eyes. “Are you going to stand there all night or…?” I trailed off, catching myself before I said something that shouldn’t be said even if I wanted it to be.

-------------------

If Emma could take a chance, I guess I could too, right? If I waited for Shi or dropped any more hints, we’d be awkward around each other more often than not. “I could do one of two things, Shiloh. I could find my keys and drive you home. Or….I could lean down and finally kiss you. I guess the choice is yours.”

——————

I knew there was a look of pure shock on my face. I didn’t hear him right, did I? I studied his face carefully. He was serious?!? I couldn’t believe it. I bit my lip and set the glass on the counter, my eyes never leaving his. My last thought before I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him was here goes nothing.

-------------

I slipped my arm around her waist as I leaned in and met her lips. The kiss was soft, tender, and long overdue. When we reluctantly broke the spell, we slowly grinned and tried it again. It was even better the second time. “Was it worth it?” I asked as I led her back over to the couch, gently pulling her into my lap and draping my arms around her. 

——————-

I said the first thing that came to mind without even thinking, “Totally!” Of course, I blushed right after that causing Justin to laugh a little. “So, uh, not that I’m complaining, but...what just happened exactly?” He looked at me a little confused, I laughed a little. I mean I knew we kissed, but was it a one-time thing just to see, or was it more. I had so many thoughts going through my head now.

----------------

“That sounded more like the Shi I know. What happened? We kissed. I gave you several opportunities to tell me how you felt. But you didn’t or couldn’t. So I decided to try something else. To take a chance that you wanted to kiss me too. I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.”

——————

My arms were wrapped around his neck, and I was sitting in his lap with his arms around me. Was I dreaming? I gave a small smile, “I was scared to tell you. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and I would lose my friend. I didn’t want that to happen so I made up my mind to hide my feelings.” I bit my lip as I looked into his eyes, “Waiting for me?”

----------------

Grinning, I nodded, “I didn’t want you to lose focus on your studies. You are highly susceptible to shiny distractions, Missy,” I teased and briefly tickled her. “It only took a couple of sessions of tutoring before I realized I wanted to ask you out. But I promised myself that I would wait until you were closer to graduating. I refused to be the reason you didn’t get work done or couldn’t settle on a major.” I reached up to stroke her cheek. “Maybe I shouldn’t have waited. Who knows? But you can’t be afraid of taking chances in life, Shi. You could miss out on so much good stuff that way.”

------------------

I couldn’t help but smile, “You know, you hid things pretty well. I never knew you felt like this about me, I thought it was just me.” I was about to say something else when I groaned, “Emma is never going to let me live this down.” I laughed at the look on his face, “I, uh, might have talked to Emma about how I felt.” I blushed a little.

---------------

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t just bottle it all up inside. I think Emma is the closest friend you’ve had in a long time. At least as far as I can tell.” She rested her head against my chest, and we sat together in peaceful silence. “I promise that we’ll take this slow, okay? You still have another year left of school and there’s no reason for us to rush things.” I didn’t want to risk losing her by taking things too far too fast. 

--------------------

“She really is, well besides you.” I tilted my head, thinking, “Is it bad that I haven’t let very many people close? I mean next year is my last year, and I don’t have very many people I’m close to.” I sighed, “But that’s sort of off-topic for now.” I smiled at him, “I agree, there is no reason to rush...us? Um, just so I’m sure, this does mean there is an us, right?” I just wanted us to be on the same page.

-----------------

I chuckled and hugged her against my chest. “Yes, there is an us. ‘Us’ used to be just a solid friendship but now it’s...evolving. Becoming even better than before. At its own rate.” She snuggled happily against my chest. “How about we watch the rest of the movie and then, if you’d like, you can stay the night in my guest room? We can start tomorrow fresh and stop at your place so you can change before going out for breakfast. Just us.”

---------------------

I couldn’t help but smile as I nodded in agreement, “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Though, I’m not sure how much of the movie is left, we’ve been...occupied.” We both laughed as we turned our attention back on the movie. We had missed about half of it, but there was still a bit left. I smiled again because it meant I got to spend just a little longer wrapped in Justin’s arms and what was even better was it wasn’t a dream.

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