#fun fact this dumb idea is what got me back into drawing last year

[melzzzzz]

that how that scene went, right?

[actionfigurebullshit]

Page 70 or So

It was around page 70, right in the middle of the notebook. I don't remember it verbatim, but something like thank you for everything you've been in my life, I'm so sorry we'll never work again, rest in peace. Funny that it was what was right in the middle of that notebook, which may have less than 140 pages because it had an unknown past life, and pages may have been taken from it.

There's very little written after that, not necessarily because Jane's death affected the ability to use it, it was just misplaced most of the time, that's all. Even now, if it's not in the AFB box, I have no idea what I did with it, and there's a few alternate notebooks I set up for when the main one was missing, numerous word document versions, none of which were used for long- just a lot of information getting spread in all direction, and I hate it. It was nice when all the madness was concentrated in those pages. The image for the Holy Guts is actually taken from a full page drawing around page 30. It was cleaned of blue and red lines, had the lines thickened, the contrast adjusted so the background was all one color of either black or white, depending on whether the image values were inverted yet, and probably some digital coloring in on some of the checkers, and there you have it.... fun and fantastic.

I hope the day comes when this notebook is used again, and the back half of those pages are thoroughly filled in.

After all these years, despite the occasional moment of a clearer imagination, the "what happens next" to Chaos Corridor has never materialized. They are in the corridor, they get separated, weird shit happens, and it has an ending that should be fitting of your horror stories, and your weird stories, like Twin Peaks- we shouldn't expect a neat and tidy ending, where it all works out and everything goes back to normal... I mean... unless you want to be ironic about it, go with some painfully dumb resolution that's as bad as "It was just a dream.".

Nor should this idea become so high brow- it is action figures, after all, that it become impossible to complete, scope creep redshifting so deep that not even traveling at the speed of light can catch up with it. There needs to be a limit, a time to come down and draw to a close. Should this point in the project also be considered right in the middle? I still feel like the story is winding up, though- we haven't even entered the corridor! Though, from a different perspective, the fact that the script more or less ends with the gang entering the corridor, it certainly feels like a midway point, from the start of this and the hypothetical conclusion to this nonsense.

I had some fun ideas for it come to me last year, the application of Labyrinth H, which exists in that same space as The Backrooms or The Black Lodge- spaces that exist on another plane that can't be accessed in a linear or Pythagorean fashion, something that looks more or less normal, and yet you wonder if you're just having a very vivid hallucination. Everything feels like a morning fog along the riverbank, and it sounds like this track from Stars of the Lid:

There was another kind of droning going on... well, not in the cut of Newton's Dream that's ever been published, but I wanted to switch out the track with something with a lot more drone to it, and I had a few candidates, and I even had my own piece of outsider art music which kind of sounded like NIN1701D and first track from that weird spa music. I might use that, but paulstretch it into drone-y goodness.

Yay, my child.

That bible quote is from a book I forgot, but chapter and verse is 14:19.

I always intended on redoing that scene, that it was just a beta version. I want to redo the mouth movements, a little less South Park, more movements in the other parts of it besides the open mouth. There's got to be an easier way to do this. How does mouth movements work on King of the Hill? How many letter sounds are actually sounded out, and how much of it is just all purpose in between movement?

So, I want the move this story out to a point where things are getting fuzzy, they all have their own odd dream like states to contend with while Stars of the Lid drones on. I considered them finding many TV Rooms that may come close or be radically different, yet they still go on and watch some TV together, try to find more funny bits of dialogue from those old recordings. It becomes something that's in between Beavis and Butthead (look carefully at the AFB logo) and MST3K. I don't want it to be all Star Trek, but the options outside of those recordings are very slim and probably not a good idea to have in the video.

But I can't seem to answer the why or the how. What's the excuse for these scenes? I don't have any, other than they get REALLY REALLY lost trying to go through and get out of that corridor. Perhaps there doesn't need to be an explanation- the ship is huge and vast, an entire city contained within bulkhead, boosters, and bussards. I imagined the Cascadia as being much older than everyone else alive. There could be catacombs, other things, further down, and maybe it ends up that we don't ever really find out WHAT the Cascadia is- it's been so long before anyone bothered to check.

And, of course, there is probably some reason Moxie's Skipper Licence was invalidated. I used to have this idea that something happeend to those turquoise T-Shirt workers at the DDSMV encounter a typical film noir kind of bad guy with a gun who takes them captive somewhere, perhaps connected to what's going on with the Cascadia. I didn't know where to go with that.

Still, if I can figure it out or wing it, that might be something fun to film, an unnecessary addition, just to get it going, scope creep be damned.

Maybe I should do a post detailing these sorts of ideas... instead of this.

[kate-komics]

Stranger Things Fantasy AU

Eddie the Banished

Pairing: Steddie (King Steve x Eddie the Banished/Demon Eddie)

Word Count: 4.4k

Rating: M

Co-Author (my beloved) @sosarahtonin

Summary: The low-ranking knight Steve Harrington was proclaimed king of the land by a prophecy from the Gods... Or so that is what was said. A reluctant ruler takes on the role gifted to him by black magic and the corrupted heart of his ex-lover. Now, after years, the king seeks Eddie’s help once again.

Warnings: Like, so much angst. ✨ man pain✨ Mentions of violence and wounds (No descriptions) Swearing. Accusations of manipulation. I think that's it??

Authors' Note: We've been writing dumb little stories together for over a decade... and now we're sharing one. IDK if we're good at this or not but any feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome... just please be nice. This was very fun to write and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it.

Only got the one part written and planned but if people like it we'll continue with a few parts. Let's do this! Cover/ Banner by me! More fantasy AU art linked at the end of the story!

🖤

The cave reeked of things long forgotten. The very essence of death made the air thick and heavy. He held back a gag with each breath, but still Steve continued on into the belly of the mountain. His left hand held a blazing torch and his right gripped the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at any moment. Many feared what dwelled in this cave, and rightfully so. Steve knew better than to fear him, but he was wise enough to know he couldn’t be trusted. He’d lost Steve’s trust long ago.

Eddie.

Eddie the Banished. Eddie the demon. Eddie the savior, he was called by some. In a way, they were right to call him a savior. This kingdom would very well be ash if Eddie hadn't done what he’d done. If he hadn’t turned himself into a monster to save them all. 

It had been 2 years since they’d defeated Vecna. Two years since Steve was proclaimed the new King. Two years since Steve had seen Eddie last. 

Steve had merely been a low-ranking knight when they first met. Eddie, a training alchemist that rarely left the castle's dungeon. Their introduction, Steve recalled, hadn’t been memorable except for the fact that it had been him. Their brief handshake wouldn’t have stood out to him if it hadn’t been for intricate silver rings, sparkling brown eyes, and that sly smirk that never seemed to leave Eddie’s face for long. It hadn’t been a hardship for Steve to work closely with the alchemist as they tried to take down the evil that spilled out of the Upside Down. Demogorgans and demodogs plagued the lands. Steve had felt equipped to handle those threats- his mace and his sword never far from his side- but when they encountered the master of those creatures, the Shadow-Slinger, Steve had been far out of his depth. How could you defend against an evil that only attacked in the mind? Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately if you knew what was to come, Eddie had an idea.

Steve knew that he was useless assisting Eddie in his labs in the dungeon, but Eddie never seemed to mind if the charged looks and lingering touches they shared indicated anything. In those days even as they had all felt the noose of Vecna’s magic tighten around their necks, Steve couldn’t remember being happier than watching Eddie work tingling when the magician spared him a heated glance over his equipment.

The battle, in the end, had been so much more bizarre than Steve could have predicted. Three victims were taken by Vecna but pinned on Eddie, frothing the kingdom into a literal witch hunt. Steve and the party instantly moved to hide the alchemist, knowing him to be innocent. If Steve’s reasons for keeping Eddie safe expanded beyond the battle or their shared friendship with Dustin, well… no one but Steve needed to know that. In hiding, Eddie had put the finishing touches on his plan to defeat Vecna.

Nothing could have prepared them for what Eddie was willing to do. In fighting Vecna, Eddie had pushed himself far beyond what anyone thought he was capable of. The guilt still gnawed at Steve. He had seen the signs and did nothing, the idea of victory blinding him to what was happening to his friend. Something magnificent and horrible.

Eddie dabbled in the black magics of the realm. Long since forbidden practices thought to have come from the Upsidedown itself. No one knew how he got them and frankly no one cared, because of the awe-inspiring power those dark spells held. Eddie claimed this could be the only way to end it all. Trusting Eddie completely, Steve had enabled his descent into darkness.

They became unstoppable with Eddie’s ever growing power. He’d become so much more than a simple alchemist now, fighting an entire army of demonic bats alone while the others burned Vecna alive. Once the deed was done, Steve, Nancy, and Robin returned to the gate. The now completely quiet battlefield blanketed with the dead bodies of bats and various other demo-beasts. In the very center, an unfamiliar haunting figure stood, stretching out tattered wings. Steve remembers the numbness with which he’d drawn his sword- weary that there was yet another enemy in this godforsaken dimension.

“Wait!” Dustin had rushed to Steve’s side, yanking his arm. The young dwarf’s strength alone wouldn’t have stopped him, however, the pain on Dustin’s face gave Steve pause. “It’s him. It’s him. He…” Dustin had trailed off.

Steve looked at the ominous figure again. He dropped his sword when his eyes met Eddie’s. He’d gone too far. He’d pushed himself over the edge and was forever changed by the dreaded magic that saved them. Massive wings sprouted from his back. Small black horns now adorned his forehead and his hands lengthened into claws. A monster. Eddie collapses on the battlefield, joining his victims. Steve’s stomach had twisted sharply with guilt. He’d helped his friend become this. 

Gathering the fallen hero in his arms, Steve ignored the voice in the back of his head warning him that Eddie was dangerous now. No matter what he looked like now, Steve believed that Eddie was still himself underneath it all.

Steve had carried him back to the castle, the party hiding him deep within its walls. For weeks they nursed him back to health, changed his bandages, and brought him food. He had saved them all, he deserved to live. Once Eddie could finally speak he swore to never touch the black magics again, not that it would change anything. He could never see the light of day again, he was sentenced to hiding in the darkest parts of the castle, his eyes unable to handle the light.

Selfishly, Steve had clung to Eddie while he was forced to hide. Finally being able to make good on all of those charged looks. Steve had pretended not to notice Eddie’s increasing restlessness in his forced confinement, longing to be in his company without the threat of the Upside Down looming over them, to touch him the way he’d wanted for so long.

The months began to wear on, leaving Eddie despondent. That was yet another juncture where Steve had failed Eddie again, unable to give him purpose in his existence, unable to be enough to keep him from the darkness he was shrouded in.

Max had lost her sight and use of her legs in the battle. After a late-night visit from Eddie, she’d made a miraculous recovery. Most of the party chose to believe it was a miracle, but Steve saw past the joy. In his fear for Eddie, he had lashed out at him. “Another failure” the guilt never failed to remind him, remembering the way he’d yelled at Eddie for daring to touch the dreaded dark magic again. Even if was to do good, it always came at a cost.

The next morning King Kline gathered nearly the entire kingdom to the castle courtyard and proclaimed that he’d had a heavenly vision that told him to hand down his title to his bravest knight, Steve Harrington. Proclaiming this was the god's will, he placed the crown onto Steve’s head and then threw himself off the six-story high balcony into the crowd. 

Despite the oddity and horror of the situation, no one questioned the late King’s decision or subsequent death. Steve remained numb and emotionless as he spent the day being tossed around and prayed over. The prophesied king, they called him. Like he was some kind of blessing. Barely 20 years old and now the ruler of thousands.

Eddie seemed to have left the parties' minds untouched as they shared the same look of horror Steve did when he briefly caught their eye. He stood alone in the king's chambers, his chambers, that night.

Eddie found his way there through the balcony.

“Congratulations, your majesty,” the winged man spoke, his voice more gravelly and deep than ever before. It had sent shivers down Steve’s spine. 

“What did you do?” is all Steve’s voice had shaken, looking at his lover. Whatever spell he cast had done more damage to him. The darkest shade of black Steve had ever seen covered Eddie's fingers and crept up his arms. His eyes were glossy and pale. His horns had doubled in size and his ears now peeked out of his wild hair at a point.  He didn’t look like himself anymore, even his movements which used to be lithe if not erratic now looked like his limbs were being yanked along by unseen strings. Like something was driving Eddie’s body.

“I gave us a future,” Eddie takes a step towards him. Steve flinches at the gesture. “All of us. We deserve it. I won’t have to hide anymore. We won’t have to hide.”

Steve removed the crown and let it fall to the floor, “I-I don’t want this. Eddie…”

He didn’t want this responsibility. He never would have wished for this. He was happy to serve, to have his freedom. To keep his friends safe. To keep Eddie safe. He wasn’t a king. He didn’t know how to be a ruler. He didn’t want to be.

The golden crown rolled to Eddie’s feet. Twitching, Eddie picked it up, the metal creaking under his inhuman grasp, “I-I thought you’d be happy?”

“Happy?!” Steve’s jaw dropped, incredulous, “Eddie this is insane! You promised you wouldn’t ever touch that magic again. Just look at what it's done to you! What it’s cost you!”

“What it’s done to me?” The shadows grew around Eddie's feet, “So now you finally see me as a monster? I help you, I give you gifts no mortal man could and you say you don’t want them. This magic has made me more than I could ever have been before. I’m a hero. This kingdom should be bowing at my feet.”

“Eddie, please,” Steve dared to take a step toward the winged creature. The shadows exploded out from under him. Steve scrambled back in fear.

Eddie’s rage was over as soon as it began, the dark magic retreating back to the shadows. Regret painted his face as he trembled in horror at what he’d just done. What side of himself took over. 

“Steve I-” He started but couldn’t bring himself to finish. The anguish is so clear in his glossy eyes. Steve wanted to hold him. Tell him they’ll figure this out. That everything will be okay, but the blinding panic held him. Yet another failure 

Steve was suddenly thrown across the room by the thrust of Eddie’s wings, then, silence. Robin and Dustin had rushed into the room at the sound of crashing to see their new king cowering and crying in the corner. What had he done? His best friends stay in his room that night and he tells them everything. They don’t see Eddie for the next week. They start to believe they may never see him again.

They can’t undo what Eddie’s done, but they can make the best of it.

If Steve was cursed to rule, then he wouldn’t do so alone. Over the next weeks, Robin and Joyce are named his chief advisors. Nancy is made Co-Captain of the guard alongside Hopper. Mike and Lucas start training for the top lieutenant positions of the knights. El was given the best mages and sorcerers to help her further hone her power and would eventually become high sorceress. She earned the title in less than 2 months. Both Jonathan and Erica claimed they wanted no fancy titles or positions, but agreed to be Steve’s eyes and ears amongst the community. A fitting job for the rouges. Will and Dustin immediately begin alchemy and spell training and Max is proclaimed his next hire. Surrounded by his friends Steve would protect this kingdom from what they caused, just like he always had before.  

It had been three months into Steve’s rule that he had seen Eddie again.

He’d been alone in his chambers, he still hadn't been used to the massive cold room. Steve thought that he still wasn’t used to the cavernous gloom even now. Steve had ended up inviting Robin to spend the night more often than not, finding comfort in each other in the vast expanse of the bed. Though now it had been happening less and less since she’d been seeing the palace seamstress, leaving him to stew with his thoughts alone.

There was only one person Steve truly wanted to share his bed with. No matter how foolish Steve had felt, he’d left the balcony doors open for him. Hoping against hope that he’d see that familiar face again.

Steve’s heart clenched as he remembered the night Eddie had appeared on the balcony, curtains billowing around him. He was wearing tattered black robes, scars visible between the torn and threadbare fabric. The moonlight made Eddie look more ethereal in his changed form.

“Eddie, oh my god!” Steve had rushed to him. He embraced him without hesitation, ignoring the fear that still lingered from their last encounter. Eddie did not hug him back, standing completely still. He was unnaturally cold. It was mid-summer and his skin felt like ice. Steve took a step back, Eddie’s gaze did not meet his eye. “Eddie?” Steve tried, his heart dropping into his stomach like it was suddenly made of lead.

“Enjoying your gifts?” the dark creature says. His tone fleeting and almost painful.

“Eddie, I don’t-” Steve reaches out again. Eddie flinches away from his touch, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… said those things. I was angry. I’m still angry, but you have to understand what this did. You changed my life, all of our lives without regard for how we felt or what it would do to you.”

“You never asked me to stop before,” Eddie finally looks him in the eye, “I gave everything to fight Vecna, without question. Everything.”  Fuck, if that didn’t make his guts twist with guilt, as if the past three months his insides hadn’t been positively squirming with unending guilt for the last three months. 

“I know you did. No words can express how grateful we all are but this?” Steve holds his hands out to gesture to the massive room, “This is absolute madness. I wanted all of us to be happy, I wanted you to be happy but-”

“You wanted me to be happy?” Eddie scoffed, “Living in those dark dungeons for months was hell, hiding away like a leper. You weren’t blind. You saw my pain and did nothing.” 

Hot tears began to prick at his eyes, “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have-”

“You used me.” Eddie hissed, “You used me for your own… selfish purposes. You used me to get this power. You knew those spells, all that knowledge, was eating away at my mind Yearning to be used. You knew I could give you this and slithered your way into my mind. My heart.”

The tears in his eyes had begun to fall in earnest, then. He had been nearly light headed at the accusation. Steve had thought he was going to be sick. Eddie thought that his love had been bullshit too?  “Eddie, I would never-” He began to croak out.

“And I let you in. All of you. You’re all guilty.” Steve sees the shadows at Eddie’s feet start to shake again. He glanced to the corner of the room where his sword lay, then instantly feeling horrible for even considering it.

“We love you. Henderson misses you. I-” Steve bit his own tongue to keep from confessing that now that he knew how unwanted it was, “What’s done is done. We can move forward like we always have. Please, come back. Come home.” 

“This is not my home.” Eddie’s voice was a distorted growl, the dark magic dancing around him. 

Steve hadn’t been sure if it’s simply for show or if Eddie would actually use his power on him. Was more sure that Eddie would use it on him now, creeping through the labyrinth. “You’re right, what I have done can not be undone. I would tell the whole realm of your hypocrisy if the spell did not forbid me to speak of it. Regardless, I will make your rule hell.” 

“Why not kill me now?” Steve had asked, arms limp by his sides.

“Consider it a gift for times now passed,” Eddie answered, his voice still a distorted growl, “And we would much rather delight in watching you suffer.”

Steve pauses at Eddie’s phrasing, “We?”

“Take your kingdom and rule as you see fit, mighty King Steve,” Eddie begins to hover, “I will assure it knows no peace. You will live with yet another failure looming over you forever.” A blinding flash then, nothing. Only a plume of smoke was left in Eddie’s wake. Steve sat in silence for a moment, tears still streaking down his face. What evil was now brought into this land? An evil he could have prevented if he weren’t so selfish. If he weren’t so blind. He’d sunk onto the ground, driving the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried to gasp around the knot in his throat. 

As the months went on the rumors started to reach his ear. The tales of a winged creature terrorizing farmers, starting fires, possessing people. It was child’s play for what Eddie was capable of. They all knew he was toying with them. Building up to something bigger. 

And now, 2 years later, it had.

Just three days ago, dozens of children vanished overnight. This was beyond any of the games Eddie had played before and Steve now sought to end it, once and for all. Upon Dustin and Will’s assessment, they found this wasn’t Eddie’s magic. All spells bore a seal only those trained in the magic arts could find. 

They found the seal of Vecna plastered across the town.

As they reported their findings to Steve, he’d had to sprint away to dry heave as the implications of the information hit him. He left for the Banished cave the next morning. Eddie was seen coming and going from this mountain and now Steve had finally come to face him. Either to finally kill him or be killed. Not that killing Eddie wouldn’t kill Steve as well. Either way Steve didn’t see himself coming out of this cave.

The light of day had long since disappeared now that the King was in the belly of the mountain.

“My, my, what a pleasant surprise this is,” a familiar voice reverberates off the walls and into Steve’s very being, breaking him out of his memories . Eddie the Banished, “The King of the realm has chosen to grace me with his presence.”

“Show yourself!” Steve musters as much strength as he can into his voice despite the chill that runs down his spine.

The sound of massive wings echoes throughout the cave. Steve can’t pinpoint where they’re coming from. He grips his sword tighter.

“How was it that you became King again, Sir Harrington?” Eddie mocks, “It was professed by the gods? Which gods?”

“Enough games, Eddie!” Steve screams blindly into the darkness. Steve didn’t have the heart to let this continue, his grim task hanging on his shoulders like an anchor. Another flap of wings, followed by footsteps. Eddie crept into the light thrown by Steve’s torch. 

Glowing red runes arch across his bare chest and shoulders. His skin has paled to nearly a faint gray and his hair is even more wild than it had been before. His eyes are glossed over with a glowing yellow. Despite it all, he’s still as beautiful as Steve remembers.

“Have you come to kill me?” Eddie halts a few feet away from Steve.

“If I must.” Steve has to force his hand holding the torch to keep from trembling. 

Eddie howls out an obnoxious laugh, “That’s cute.” He starts to circle Steve. “You look well, your highness.”

I miss you

“Can’t say the same for you,” Steve stays on his toes. The air feels strangely calm now that Eddie is in sight. 

A devilish smile spreads across the demon's face, “So feisty, Just how I remember. Do you think about those nights, Stephen? About me?” 

He does. Constantly, “Never.”

“Truth be told, I expected you here sooner.” The demon takes a few steps closer, “I remember those nights in the castle dungeon. Just as lonely as this new dungeon. Have you come to make my new imprisonment a little more bearable, your majesty?”

His tone is all wrong. He can’t fight the shiver that runs down his spine, Not Eddie, Not Eddie blasts through his brain like a trumpet. There was a time when the obvious come on would have melted him, now he feels frozen like a statue. “I’m here on business. Nothing more.” he simply says. 

“A king has business with the likes of me?” Eddie holds his hand to his chest with an enthused expression, “You make me blush. Such an honor.” He looks like Eddie, uses the same scathing humor Eddie did but it’s twisted now. The way his smile bares too many teeth sends dread right to the pit of his stomach

“Shut up.”

He’s so close now, less than an arm’s reach. Steve couldn’t let him drone on and stall more. He came here for a reason beyond his own guilt.

“Three days ago, over a dozen children were stolen from the capitol and local villages.” It’s all he says. It’s all he needs to say.

The demon take’s pause. Steve can’t deny he sees genuine confusion in Eddie’s expression. It gives him a fleeting glimpse of hope.

“Children?” Eddie looks him in the eye. 

“The kidnapped kids. There were traces of black magic from where they had been taken.” Steve’s voice was stilted, cautious.

Eddie’s brow furrowed at the information, the manic energy seeming to sluff off of his shoulders for a moment before a frown creased his brow.

“Black magic, huh? So you think it had to be me?!” Eddie spat before scoffing, “Of course you would! Of course you’d think that I’d try to pull the same shit as fucking Vecna.”

Steve, unthinkingly, took a step back. Disarmed yet wary.

“If it wasn’t you then who did it?” If he had the presence of mind to notice, he would cringed at the hope in his tone.

“Oh, I don’t know Steve,” Steve couldn’t help but flinch at the venom that dripped on his own name from Eddie’s mouth, “What other evil magic users that have a history of kidnapping kids do you know?”

Steve still refused to believe it.

“He’s gone! We-”

“We never knew for sure that he was gone. We hoped. Guess we were wrong.” Eddie, suddenly looking exhausted, leaned against a wall.

Steve knew he shouldn’t trust him. He knew that the Eddie before him wasn’t the same one he once knew but once again he was helpless against him.

“I’m sorry. ” He muttered, voice hoarse. It’s all he can really think to say. 

I’m sorry. For all of it.

Eddie peered at him from the wall, a slow mean grin contorted his face, energy seeming to seep back into him as he cackled cruelly.

“All is forgiven then! King Steve is sorry.” Eddie jeered mockingly. “You don’t know what sorry fucking is.”

Steve opens his mouth to respond but before a word can escape him, Eddie is on him, pinning him to the wall. The torch falls to the ground, still lit.

“Don’t you dare compare me to him,” Eddie growls, his hand on Steve’s throat. “I’m not him. I’m just what you made me. All of you.”

Steve doesn’t move to fight back. How could he? Eddie was right. What was an apology going to do now, after everything? 

“You really think I’d steal people’s children, Steve?” Eddie asks again, the sadness evident in his tone, “Who have I ever killed since I left? Who have I ever stolen or hurt?”

Eddie was right again, and Steve knew it. Eddie was mischievous. A bad story told to children at night but he wasn’t a killer. He wanted people to fear him, and they did. Even with all the fires and terror, no one was killed. Hardly anyone was hurt. Desperate cries for attention were all his actions were. Unanswered cries.

“The late King, for one.” Steve counters.

“Yes, I’m sure the people miss their old ruthless ruler. The slimy old man went down the way he deserved,” Eddie takes a seat on a nearby rock, “But you, dear Steve, I hear they love you. Turns out I was right.”

Steve wasn’t sure if the kingdom so much loved him as they were just happy to have a leader that would finally take action after decades of a lethargic, indifferent king. He couldn’t have achieved half of his goals without the help of his friends. Maybe Steve should tell Eddie about everything that’s changed with them? He could tell him how proud he is of the kids and how much they’ve grown. How they took on their new roles with such enthusiasm. He could tell him how much Dustin missed him despite everything. 

He could tell Eddie that. 

“Steve,” Eddie pulls him back to reality again, “There are forces at work that you’ll never understand.”

“What do you mean?” Steve stalks closer. 

“I do.” A brief flash of sorrow flashes over Eddie’s features, “I understand them now. Don’t dig any further. Go, protect your kingdom.”

Before Steve can get another word out, a flash of flames overtakes his vision, then, he’s outside. He stands at the mouth of the cave again. Alone. Sick and disoriented, he braces himself against the rocks. He takes a moment to gather himself before trying to enter the darkness again but is stopped by an invisible force. Eddie is keeping him out. 

The king screams into the darkness to no avail. He collapses feeling foolish again, as if his pleading cries would actually work. Eddie may not have been the cause of this mass kidnapping but he knew something. Steve needed more answers and the only one who had them was warding him away.

Steve’s not sure how long he stands at the mouth of that lonely cave before he mounts his horse again. It’s nearly half a day's ride back to the castle, and he has people to protect. 

🖤

Fantasy AU Art:

Concept Designs

In the Cave and on the Battle field

[ghostadventuresstuff]

Zak Bagans x Reader

Y/N

When you and your best friend Zak first decided to try the whole 'friends with benefits' package a couple of years ago you came up with rules, but one rule stuck out from the rest. You couldn't develop real feelings for each other because neither of you wanted a serious relationship, that was then but things had changed over the space of a year.

It all started when the two of you got drunk one year at a convention and slept together, the next morning you decided you both liked it but didn't really fancy the other person. You were happy being friends who occasionally slept together, mainly when the two of you were drunk or needed a release after a bad lockdown. Come to think of it neither of you had ever had sober sex with each other, it just wasn't your thing.

The real deal-breaker came when you and Zak attended your sister's wedding and your family fell head over heels in love with him because of his charm. All night they kept coming up to you and whispering that the two of you would be walking down the aisle next and how cute your babies would be. That stung because as much as you wanted a real relationship, Zak just wanted to have fun.

Today you were breaking it off with him; there would be no more sex and maybe no more friendship. It would be awkward still being friends with him if he continued to hook up in front of your face. You sat nervously on his sofa twiddling your thumbs as he got ready for lockdown in the other room, it was now or never for you to make the move.

'Aaron is throwing a party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me y/n. We can hook up in his room again, except this time we'll lock the door.'

You flinch as he leans over the sofa and starts kissing your exposed neck; all he ever thought about was where the two of you would have sex next.

Zak, we need to talk.'

You stand up and turn to face Zak who looks confused.

'What do we need to talk about?' He asks cautiously.

You motion between the two of you, 'we need to talk about this thing between us, there's no easy way to say this Zak so I'm just going to say it...I can't do this anymore...I'm done...'

What do you mean when you say done?'

You sigh and run your hand through your hair, you had a feeling he wouldn't take this easily, 'at the wedding, it was so hard seeing you get along with my family, they freaking loved you. Do you know how hard it was for them to keep telling me how perfect we are together? That it would be my turn walking down the aisle next, and why didn't I tell them I had a boyfriend. That night made me realise that I want a serious relationship, and I know you're not ready for that Zak so I'm ending this.'

He takes a step forward with some unreadable emotion behind his eyes but you counter his step and start walking towards the front door.

'Don't do this y/n. There has to be another reason why you're suddenly ready to throw 'us' away. Tell me the truth,' he begs.

You freeze as your hand hovers over the handle; he wanted to know the truth. This was how you lost both your relationship and friendship all in one night.

'The truth is Zak I broke the one rule. I fell in love with you. Goodbye.'

As you walked out of the door and out of Zak's life you couldn't help but shed a tear at what you were leaving behind. You loved him but he would never love you back, and he made that clear by not coming after you.

~ 1 YEAR LATER ~

ZAK

The last year had been awful ever since y/n left my life. She really did mean goodbye that night because she made it near damn impossible to track her down. However I knew she still kept in touch with Aaron because they were practically glued at the hip, I told him everything and he called me an idiot for letting her walk out of my life. I was in shock that night, I thought we were having fun but then y/n goes and drops the fact that she had feelings for me and that went against our agreement.

Did I have feelings for my best friend? That first drunken hook-up came about because I was too scared to talk to her sober so I got drunk as did she, and it was my idea the next day to make the rule. She said things changed at her sister's wedding and she was right, her family loved me and y/n looked stunning that night as we danced like goofballs on the dance floor and made good use of the open bar. But I thought she didn't want anything serious as well.

I hadn't hooked up once this past year, no girl could come close to how y/n made me feel and that cemented the fact that I in fact also had feelings for her, but that it was too late and she was out of my life. She stopped being our merch girl and the guys were grumpy without her and blamed me.

We were editing the next season of the show when I decided I needed a coffee break and headed to the local coffee shop. However, when I walked out of the shop I accidentally bump into someone but manage to keep my coffee in its cup.

'Shit I'm sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.'

The girl laughs and there was something familiar that I couldn't pinpoint.

'No it's my fault...wait a second...Zak, is it you?'

Oh great, she was another fan. I was about to make up some lame excuse when she glanced up and both our eyes widened in shock. Stood in front of me was y/n looking as gorgeous as ever. What were the chances of us bumping into each other?

'y/n? Wow, you look good...I mean how have you been? Seeing anyone?'

Wow way to play it smooth Bagans, I sounded jealous about the last part because I had a gut feeling y/n had found Mr right and I wouldn't have a chance to tell her how I really felt. She laughs and shrugs her shoulders.

'I'm good, haven't really been up to much just drawing I guess. And no I'm not seeing anyone. In fact, this is going to sound stupid, but I haven't seen anyone since I left you that night.'

I was taken aback by her honest answer, though a part of me was glad she was still single.

'How are you still single y/n?' I gasp.

'I guess I just kept comparing the guys I dated to you, as dumb as it sounds. But enough about me Zak, How have you been? Is there a lucky Mrs Bagans waiting in the wings?'

I sigh and scratch the back of my head with my free hand. I was flattered no guy could compare to me so it made what I was going to say next easier, 'nope still single, in fact, I kept comparing girls to you and no one could come close. I guess what I'm trying to say y/n is that I was a bloody idiot a year ago.'

She tilts her head as if she was confused by what I was saying. I just needed to come clean about it.

'I shouldn't have let you walk out of my life. After thinking things over and some strong words from the guys I realised that I did, in fact, have feelings for you, I do have feelings for you. I love you y/n and I understand if you don't feel the same way because a year has passed.'

'I still love you Zak Bagans.'

Those were all the words I needed to hear from her perfect lips before I put my coffee down and swept her off her feet. I kiss her and was surprised but happy when she kissed me back. It was as if everything was falling back into place and the two of us could finally be happy.

'Will you go on a proper date with me y/n?' I ask.

She pulls back and grins like the Cheshire Cat, 'of course I'll go on a date with you Zak.'

I smash my lips against hers again not caring about the looks we got from people around us. I had my girl back and nothing was going to come between us ever again.

[mindninjax]

The Way It Blooms

Pairing: Wakatoshi Ushijima x virgin!reader 

Rating: M for the sex but it’s FLUFF

Warning: it’s fluffy smut, pure fluff. 

Word Count: 3.4K

a/n: Do you remember the moment you fell in love with someone?  The very first moment the two of you made love? This fic is kinda about that. Ushijima has quickly become one of my comfort characters as you will see in this soft ass shit.

This was used as inspiration and it’s beautiful. Also, you should listen to  Get You by Daniel Caesar during the smut lol. 

Dedicated to one @dymphnasprose for dropping so much Ushi content in my DMs and making me fall for him more and more and for this fucking adorable ass pet name that I will always use and associate with both you and Ushi. I love you babe! 

Plucking the strings idly of your old acoustic guitar, you feel the familiar rush of calm wash over your body. You haven’t picked it up since your sophomore year of high school when you—embarrassingly— serenaded your boyfriend at the time with a dumb love song you wrote him after only dating for 3 months. It was Valentine’s day, you thought it’d be special. He broke up with you and called you “clingy”. And being the dramatic but valid—because that guy was a major asshole— teenager, you’d stopped playing. 

As you got older, you’d forgotten about it, shifted your focus on getting into college, becoming a journalist like you’d planned. Something changed in you in the last few weeks though. You were braver, more confident, happier with who you were as a person. 

It could be because the winter months were coming to an end, the sun was shining more, beating down into your dorm room and warming the cold dark depressing atmosphere you hidden yourself in for the past few months. Or it could be...him. 

Your face heats up and you pluck a sour note on the guitar as his face fills your mind. Piercing moss green eyes gaze into your subconscious and make a home there. Your heart flutters when you think about his voice, the last words he said to you, “I’ll be back to you soon, don’t worry”, before it becomes heavy with yearning and you remember he’s across an ocean right now playing an intense volleyball match you’re sure his team will win. 

Wakatoshi pulled the deepest emotions from you, the deepest and most forgotten portions of your personality, the ones you used to enjoy the most before society squeezed it from you. He admired your creativity, and his blunt comments or questions always caught you by surprise, in a good way. 

“God, I wish I could go up on stage and sing like that!” you’d said one date night while watching  a woman perform karaoke. 

“Why can’t you?” Toshi asked in a deadpan voice as he stroked the back of your hand. You blinked at him, not able to give him a clear reason of why you couldn’t go up on stage. It’d just felt natural to say, like you weren’t supposed to go. By the end of the night, you were on stage laughing and singing, full of joy as you watched him clap along to the music and his eyes followed you around on stage. It was the happiest you’d been in a while, and it was one the first few dates you’d gone on with him.  

You strum a few chords, humming to yourself as you get caught up in the music. You’d forgotten how calming it was, how much strumming and humming helped you feel when you allowed yourself to just be you. It was strangely how you felt every single time you were around Wakatoshi, comfortable yet protected. You pick up your phone and check the time, an idea forming in your head. He’d be in the middle of the game right now so he won’t have his phone until it’s over. 

You prop the phone up on a pillow with it facing you. Your face is bare with no makeup, your hair is a little messy from the wear and tear of the day and you were in the middle of getting ready for bed so you’re wearing an old cami and tiny shorts. You shrug, electing not to worry about your appearance, prop the guitar up on your leg, clear your throat, and press the record button on your phone. 

You strum a simple tune, something that repeats where the beat can be easily kept. It’s a swaying melody, one that tiptoes up and down the score with light steps; like a soft lullaby intended to serenade and rock the listener into a dreamy slumber. You’re not nervous, you don’t worry about what anyone might think about you, you just close your eyes and think of Toshi and how much you miss him.

 You focus on how much you want to feel his arms around you, how he makes your heart jump into your chest when his fingers lightly draw over your skin. You giggle when you think about his dry attempts at jokes just so he can see you smile and the way he will poke at where the dimple would be if you smiled when you're frowning. His own little silent gesture to say “smile little doe,” because he's not a man of many words. 

You lose yourself in the melody, start to sing the words that sashay around your head and heart. You’re not sure if they make sense, or if they fit the tune, you only know you want him to know how you’re feeling and for some reason this feels like the perfect way to show him. You pour your heart into each word you sing, communicating in the most intimate way you know how to while he’s away, and it’s evident in the passionate way you float to each note.  

Your voice wavers when you sing about how much you wish he was here with you, how much you want him to touch you and hold you and feel you, even going so far as to mention making love to him. You two haven’t been dating long a few months at most, and you’re astounded at just how much you crave him. Except that isn’t the word you want to use. The word you want to use scares you, so you’re hoping, praying that he will feel it when he hears this. 

You end the song and stop the recording, softly and with purpose as if to solidify every feeling you’ve contained in this beautiful little song for him and before you become too afraid and erase it. No, he deserves to hear this song for him. A message in a bottle that you send across the ocean and with it, hope and comfort that there is someone out there in the world who understands him and sees him. 

You type a quick message and attach the video quickly before you talk yourself out of it: 

Toshi, here’s a little something to help you sleep! See you in two days! ❤️

You hit send and chew on your lip before tossing the phone aside and quickly finishing your night routine for bed. 

--

“Get some rest Ushiwaka! You deserve it after the win you got us today!” 

Wakatoshi waves off his teammates silently as he shuffles to his hotel room and pulls out the keycard. He sighs heavily when he hears the affirmative beep and the lock clicks. He’s exhausted, the long 5 set match finally done. The other team put up a great fight and he’s always appreciative of a team who has a fighting spirit, but he’s exhausted and hasn’t been able to see or hear from you all day. He collapses on his bed and digs through his bag for his phone. He turns it off before matches so he can keep his focus but he always sends a quick message to you before he does and he never turns it off until he gets a text back from you. 

When the screen lights up and comes back alive he smiles to himself. It’s your face on his phone background. One that he took when you both visited the park near campus. You’d picked a huge sunflower and you were beaming. He’d had to move quickly and figure out how to open his camera to take it before you realized, but it came out stunning. You looked so happy, the dimple in your cheek deepening as you caught his love-filled gaze on you. 

Your face smiles back at him on screen now and he frowns when he realizes how much he misses you. He wishes you were here with him. It’s very seldom that you aren’t at one of his games, cheering him on, watching his every movement, being his motivation. He plays harder when you’re watching, he wants to make you proud, although you’re always proud of him. But the way your eyes light up when he wins a match, how you jump on him and squeal when he leaves the court sweaty and still full of adrenaline from the match, makes the win all the more worth it. 

Wakatoshi doesn’t know exactly what it is about you that he likes so much. He finds himself pondering it as he watches you do mundane tasks. When you twirl your pencil while you work on homework, the way you bite your cheek when you’re thinking of something, or the way you gravitate toward him when you’re sitting next to him, he finds it entertaining. He could watch you all day and never get bored, and that’s a first for him. It’s a first that anything other than volleyball has kept his attention and he’s not bothered by it. 

He opens the message from you, swiping up to unlock his phone and his eyes grow a little wide when he sees you’ve sent him a video. He reads the message before getting up, grunting as he stands to go take a shower. If the video is to help him sleep, he figures he should get ready for bed before he watches, plus he likes the idea of your face being the last thing he sees before he drifts off to sleep. 

When he’s showered and his muscles are relaxed and dripping from the shower, he pulls on his boxers, dries himself and climbs into the stiff hotel bed, wishing once again that he was climbing in next to you. He grabs his phone again as he lays on his back. He opens the message once again, smiling at your face—he misses so much—and plays the video. 

The guitar strums surprise him, he didn’t know you could play guitar. It’s automatically soothing and he stores this fun fact in his brain, vowing to never forget it as it’s information on one of his favorite things. The tune you strum is simple yet beautiful, maybe because it’s you playing it or just that your fingers so meticulously strum the strings. He can tell this is your craft and you’re good at it. 

He closes his eyes as he continues to listen to the repetitive melody and he’s immediately thankful that you sent him this. It will help him sleep and he can drift off knowing that even though you aren’t here, you’re still helping and supporting him from afar. 

His eyes shoot open when you start to sing. Your voice is astounding. It is unlike anything Wakatoshi has ever heard before. It twinkles like a delicate little bell, rings loud and strong as the words continue and pierce his heart. It swirls, sways, rocks and swaddles him in all the love you project through these lyrics. Your voice is sweet, relieving, like ice cream on a very hot day after practice, and when you sing his name and about making love, he grunts in approval. It’s suddenly all he wants. His body, his heart aches for you and all he wants is to be with you again. When the song ends on a tender note, he plays the song again and again, hanging on every lilt of your voice and committing it to memory. 

Right before he drifts off to sleep, he texts back a quick message to you, a vow he intends on keeping. 

I am coming back to you soon little doe.

--

Your hair is brushed from your forehead and you sigh in contentment. You’re sure you're dreaming, it’s been the same recurring dream every night since Toshi has been gone. When you feel a hand cradle your face, your eyes shoot open to see him, sitting on the edge of your bed caressing your face in his large hand. Tears well in your eyes when you see him and you jump up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Toshi!”

He pulls you into his lap and cradles your body against his. You can hear his gym bag slip from his shoulder and you peep over his shoulder to see his luggage in the corner of your room. His luggage. You pull back to look into his eyes. 

“Toshi, did you come straight here when you got off the plane?” you ask looking concerned and trying to wipe the tears from your eyes. He’s faster than you, reaching a long finger out to catch a falling one and swipe it from your cheek. 

“Yes. You don’t have to cry. It was no trouble,” The deep baritone rumbles his body and moves through you. It’s only been a few days since you two have seen each other, but his voice still sends a shiver up your spine whenever you hear it. 

You shake your head in defiance, “Wakatoshi, you should’ve gone to your dorm. You need to rest,” you say furrowing your eyebrows and trying to be serious. 

He stares at you with an intense stare and you’re momentarily worried. Wakatoshi has never looked at you this way before. This stare is usually intended for his teammates or a rival, when he’s serious and focused during a match. 

“No. I needed to see you.” 

You’re not sure what comes over you but his words ignite a fire in you and you kiss him, hard and passionate. Ever the prepared sportsman, he kisses you back matching your passion and groaning into your mouth. All the yearning the two of you shared over the last few days rushes out of you and into the kiss. It’s sloppy and you both have to pull back and catch your breath. 

His hands fall to your hips as he pulls you closer against him. Your hands roam down his chest, up his broad shoulders and down his bulging back muscles. You breathe his name against his lips and he growls, picks you up and places you down on your back on the bed. 

He crawls over you, fixating himself between your thighs. You’re both still clothed but the aching for each other is more than just the sex. You just want to be close to him, to feel him wrap his arms around you, to feel his lips against yours again. He bends down to your face and kisses you again. Softer this time, as if he’s afraid to hurt you or lose control. He kisses down your jaw, bites and sucks on your neck, marking you as his. 

You hear him rumble into your neck, “Mine” before he bites down and makes another mark. You moan at the sensation and Wakatoshi momentarily stops to savor the sound. It’s almost as sweet as your lovely singing voice, and he’d give anything to hear you moan his name. You paw at the hem of his shirt as he continues to kiss your cheek and neck. 

“I want to see you Toshi,” you whimper. He gazes into your eyes for a moment before removing  his shirt and you marvel at his rippling muscles. He’s so big, his herculean frame always able to make your mouth water. He can see the pride of having him be yours in his eyes and he likes it. 

He wants you to be proud to have him, the same way he’s proud to have you. He grabs the end of your shirt and slowly pulls it over your head. Large hands clumsily grasp the clasp of the bra He observes you like a work of art, committing every freckle and mole to memory. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says and the way the word “beautiful” falls effortlessly from his lips when describing you makes your face grow hot. There’s nothing you want more than him, now. He removes his pants and underwear and slides yours down your legs as well. When you both are left staring at each other in awe, you pull him back down to kiss you again. 

You can feel his engorged cock twitching against your thigh as he hovers on his elbows over you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, desperation escaping with your next exhale. He kisses down your chest, covering every inch of you with the sweetest embrace of his lips. He licks at your nipple, nips softly and when he hears you gasp he bites down a bit harder before licking to soothe the brisk pain. 

Your heart beats faster with every kiss, this feeling inside of you overwhelms you and when you push your hips up to meet his, a silent plea, he pulls back to look at the exquisite fountain between your legs. He holds his weeping cock in one hand and for the first time you look at him nervously. Will it fit? What if it doesn’t? Will he still want to be with you? He reaches a large hand to caress your cheek and the tumbling storm in your chest calms with his sweet gesture. He stares into your eyes and that same intensity burns there, passionate and solicitous, like the sun. 

“Don’t worry little doe, I’ll be gentle,” he says running a thumb over your cheek. The anxiety is gone instantly and you look at him with the utmost trust as he places the tip of his dick to your entrance. He rubs it against your slippery folds, slathering your slick over his copious length and preparing you for all his glory. You nod to him when he looks at you for permission to enter. 

He pushes inside of you, moving slowly and passing the first ring of muscle. He grunts when the crown of his cock is sitting comfortably in your fluttering walls. You whimper as you become accustomed to how full you already feel. When your heaving chest slows down from the initial insertion, he continues to slide into you, hips moving closer to yours in a welcoming embrace. You stretch around him and it burns, but you clench as well, your body’s way of telling him not to stop. 

When he’s fully sheathed inside of you he grunts and you moan in unadulterated pleasure. Your eyes are shut as you concentrate on how he feels inside of you. Despite the fullness and the stretch it doesn’t feel foreign as you expected. It feels like he belongs, like your body will mold to his because it knows it’s supposed to be him. 

Little salty droplets bead at the corner of your eyes as you think about this, and when you open them Wakatoshi is staring with an unknown expression. The emotion, the love, grows inside of you like a sunflower reaching for the sun. It tumbles from your lips when he, while never severing your gaze, pulls his hips out ever so slightly and plunges back into you.  A quick chaste “I love you” that you’re sure and are slightly thankful he doesn’t hear. The fear and insecurity bubbling and shielding the sun again.

You cry out instead, “Oh god Toshi!” He wraps his arms around your body, leaning his weight onto his arms to avoid putting it all on you but wanting to pull you closer to his body. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls out all the way and slowly plunges back inside you again, starting a slow sensual pace. He rocks his hips, latches his lips to your neck as you dig your hands into his hair and you lift your hips to feel more of him. 

His pace quickens as he becomes lost in the passion of your warm velvety walls, what he assumes is heaven. You’re moaning his name over and over, tears now falling down your cheeks as your ecstasy creeps upon you. When you feel the coil inside you snap, you pull him closer, nails digging into his back as your thighs shake and wrap around his waist. You cry out again, no longer able to hold it in, “I love you! Toshi, I love you so much!” 

The words tumble from your lips as his cum spills inside you and grunts your name loudly. He connects his lips with yours as the two of you ride out your orgasm together, as one. When you both come down from your high, he rubs his forehead against yours brushing his nose against yours before whispering in his deep baritone voice something you almost don’t make out. But when you do hear it, you wrap your arms around his neck again and hug him close, intent on never letting go. 

“I love you, little doe.”

--

Thanks for Reading!!

tag list: @widow-nikki-smith @twicejynxed @love-lost-insecure-blog  @hell-ninja13 @gabrann @hi-itsbonny @yunhosblackgf @animeboyscangetit @jessie9008 @halfsquat  @4lfalfagarlic @memorieswithinmyeyes @chefakari @softiehawks  @bnhathotty @irvingka @animemelanin @clever-username96 @kisskisskageyama @itsnotsoni @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @lettytheletdown @brithedemonspawn @minninugget @starrygoblin @simpingovereveryanimeguy @simpingmaize @nit-sir-hc @isseisbbg @flairlust @dabilove27  @mistressoflight @bakugousmymassa @answer-the-sirens

[andilovetowrite]

Initial Shyness(P.P x Reader)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Confessions are cute, right? Especially when you have been waiting for years to say it out loud. But what happens when the initial shyness wears off? And we all know Peter isn’t as innocent as he seems ;)

Warnings: Nothing but some unending fluff. Lots of Peter rambling and awkward kisses :)

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

“C’mon, you can do it!” hissed MJ from beside you. She pushed you toward’s Peter’s door, making you stumble. Still, you tried to hold back against MJ, who you realized, was freakishly strong.

“I can’t! Nope. No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. MJ sighed, probably too tired for your crap.

“Oh come on Y/N! I cannot hear another word about Peter again.”, she said, looking too serious.

“But-”

“Not one more word”

“I-”

“So what you are going to do is go into his room, go up to him, confess your feeling, and then kiss him.” She looked at you expectantly. “Am I clear?”

“Uh- just one component you are missing out on….I don’t have the balls to tell Peter I like him!”

MJ rolled her eyes, coming to stand next to you. “Yes, you don’t. And that’s why, I am really really sorry for what I am going to do next.” You didn’t even have time to figure out what she meant before you were pushed into Peter’s room harshly by Ned and MJ. As soon as most of you was inside, they shut the door behind you and you heard the door lock behind you.

“Oh COME ON!”, you said, trying to open the door.

“You know what to do!”, MJ said back, her voice muffled. You sighed, turning around to see Peter looking at you, a slight smile on his face. Oh, and what an amazing smile he had. His eyes crinkled, and small dimples showed up on his face. His pearly whites showed through his pink lips that you have dreame-

“Hey Y/N...what’s up?” Peter asked, snapping you out of your Peter-sized daydream.

“Huh-uh, so um- MJ just wanted some-uh alone time with- with uh Ned. Yeah”, you said, trying to think of anything other than the fact that you had a gigantic crush on your best friend.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched up, confused. “Why would she want to talk to Ned?”

“Uh-um wanting to know something about uh-English…”

“Okay”, Peter said, drawing out the word. You could see he didn’t believe you so you did the most logical thing. A logical course of action that anybody in your situation would do. Lie.

“Well, she actually wanted me to show you something, um-on the roof”, you said, biting your lip, trying to figure out what to do once you got on the roof.

“Alright, let’s go!”, Peter said quickly, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, feeling the warmth seep into your body and make it’s way up to your cheeks. You held on, knowing that this would be the last time if Peter didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

Jumping out the window, you let out a small yelp as Peter grabbed your waist, holding onto you tight as he pulled you two to the rooftop. Landing onto the ground, you held on for dear life, looking at Peter.

“Give me a warning next time! I thought you were going to chuck me out the window…”

“Oh please, then who would I have to annoy all the time?”, he asked teasingly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

“Well, you would lose your best friend…”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see the way Peter’s face contorted into a grimace as he looked down.

“Yeah, but not only my best friend but the coolest person in Queens!” You cracked a smile, a red tint making its way up to your neck as you heard him speak. “I mean, you are so damn smart and pretty...Not to mention, so badass. I mean, I saw how you elbowed Flash in the-”

“Okay, let’s not relive it” You interjected. Peter smiled at that, walking both of you over to the other side of the roof. “Where are we going?”, you asked, confused.

“Uh, so I just wanted to-uh. Just come and see this”, Peter said, scratching his head slightly. Not knowing what to do, you just followed him, hoping you would see what he was talking about. And you weren’t expecting this.

A plush rose blanket spread out across half of the roof, with rose petals thrown here and there. In the middle of it was a small picnic box, with food sticking out of it. You could see some books stacked in the corner and a couple pillows as well. The light reflected off the buildings around you, giving the entire space an orangish-pinkish glow. You were so engrossed in the spread, you didn’t even notice Peter shakily taking out a small bouquet of roses from behind him.

“Peter, wha-what is this?”, you asked, shocked.

Bringing out the roses, he held it out to you, a blush the same color as the flowers making it’s way up to both of your cheeks. “I-um, heard what you and uh MJ were talking about a-a couple um days ago. So-I uh decided to ask Mr Stark to help me out with thi-”

“Wait a second. Tony Stark helped you out with this?!”, you asked, shocked at why your dad would help Peter out with this small thing. I mean, it-he shouldn’t care so much about Peter’s best friend, right?

“Yeah-uh, so I um set this out for you, and asked MJ to help me get you in my roo-”

“MJ has been in on this?”, you asked, suddenly remembering how she and Peter had been talking discreetly a few days ago.

Peter just nodded, looking down as a dopey smile made it’s way to his face. You cleared your throat, trying to figure out what was happening. You weren’t dumb, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions to quickly.

“Why-why would yo-is this-uh”, you tried to speak, with little success. You could feel you face heat up in embarrassment, so you just stared at the flowers in Peter’s hands.

“I-uh really, um like you Y/N. Like more than a-a friend. And much more than a best friend. I know yo-you may not like me back, but I couldn’t keep it in any longe-”

You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking. But you couldn’t hear anyother word come out of his mouth, because otherwise you would’ve melted. So you did the next best thing. You kissed him. Hard.

His words got caught in his throat as his lips met yours. And for a second you were worried you went too far, pulling back. But as soon as he felt you doing that, his hands went to your hair, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back with fevour.

You wish you could’ve stopped time. Right there. During a beautiful sunset, on the roof surrounded by rose petals, and with Peter in your arms. And in your mouth. But sadly, you needed air to breathe, so you pulled away, probably looking like a fish straight out of the water. Opening your eyes, you could see Peter’s face. His pupils were dilated and his entire face was a pink hue. His lips were plump and red, but pulled up in a lovesick smile.

You knew you had the exact same expression on your face. Smiling softly, you looked at Peter, and at the same time, you both said.

“I really like you”

“I really like you”

Giggling, you hesitantly took the crushed flowers from Peter, breathing them in.

“They got squashed”, Peter said, running his hands over the petals.

You shrugged, not caring. “Well, it wasn’t only your fault. I think it was a two-person thing..”, you said cheekily, smirking at Peter.

He laughed, throwing his arms over you and pulling you in for a hug. You breathed in his signature scent and melted against him, your heart full. It would’ve been perfect if not for the eruption of clapping and whistles from behind you.

“Wha-”

“GOOD JOB PETE!”, MJ yelled, running to the both of you, Ned and May close behind. Crashing into you, you laughed as she looked at Peter. “Better take care of her, got it?”

Peter nodded, kissing my cheek. And just as he did that, a flash went off fro next to you. “Nice job Underoos. Watch the lips though. Don’t get too close to my daughter.” Tony’s voice went through the air, making you jump.

“Dad?!”, you said, shocked.

“Mr Stark?!”

“Yes yes, I was spying on you. But at least I’m not like Nat and Thor. They have been circling the building for the last 15 minutes.”

Tony said, shrugging as he pointed to the sky, where you could see the two of them waving at you.

“Oh god”, you groaned, throwing your head back. Peter looked at you, white as a ghost, before giving a scared nod at your dad.

“Yes sir, I’ll be very-um-uh good to Y/N. I mea-she is uh so pretty-wait that’s not-uh and smart- but that’s not-,” he stuttered, eyes wide. Helping out the poor boy, you shooed everyone away.

“Bye, dad. Please take Nat and Thor home with you. We’ll be back soon”

“Not later than 11, got it? And remember Peter, hands to yourself.”

“Yes M-Mr Stark”

Giggling, you watched as everyone walked away, leaving you with Peter. “Sorry bout that”

“Oh, it’s fine. I got the girl of my dreams tonight. Nothing could beat that” Blushing you pulled him in for a short kiss, before hugging him tightly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wish you say that was the end of the story. That you both lived happily ever after. But sadly, with a group of friends and family, privacy was not the best. And you were very sorry to say that you scarred more people than you had hoped to scar in the next few months.

The first victim though was none other than Aunt May. And boy oh boy did she not look at you two for weeks after the incident.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alright! This was really fun to write, and this is such a cute idea, so I kinda want to make this into a series where people walk in on Peter and Y/N, so let’s see where it goes. But the next part will be out in a couple of days once my exams end :) Also, on that note, wish me luck, since I have my math exam tomorrow. Anyway, until next time!

Taglist: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @ladykxxx08

[farfromharry]

The one with homecoming | Peter’s girl

Summary: You accompany Mj to homecoming when Peter decides to go with Liz, but eventually end up comforting Peter after he gets into a large fight as Spiderman

Word count - 2,600

warnings - mentions of injuries, maybe some language?

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Homecoming was fastly approaching, and after the year you and your friends had had, you were more than excited. You were hoping that you and Mj could go together, as friends of course, no boys that would only serve to ruin your night with how irritating they were; yes, that included Ned and Peter.

“What if I asked Peter to Homecoming?” she said abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence you’d been in while eating together. You nearly choked on your food for multiple reasons. One, that was a very bold thing to do for Mj, and two, you really didn’t want her to go with Peter. She stared at you with wide eyes while you took a swig of your water to cool your burning throat, expecting some kind of explanation for that reaction.

“No, no boys,” you whined, hand reaching over to link your fingers with Mj’s across the table. “Let’s just go together.” She ignored the evident pleading and excitement in your eyes, the girl telling you that she really wanted to try her luck with Peter, finally find out if he likes her back. You were convinced your heart could have shattered right there, but you instead plastered a playful pout on your lips instead, showing your disapproval of the idea. “Still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you murmured, moreso under your breath so she wouldn’t hear you, retracting your hand from hers rather defeatedly.

“What was that?”

You opened your mouth to stutter out a response when you were thankfully saved by the bell, though not the actual bell, in this case it was a frantic and flustered looking Peter Parker. You and Mj shared a look of simultaneous confusion, watching as the boy took a seat opposite you, seeming quite out of breath.

“I need your help,” he said, trying to take a second to catch his breath before he explained what was going on.

“Why?” Mj asked, looking quite unimpressed that he’d interrupted your conversation, even if it was actually about him and her feelings for said boy. He took a deep breath, looking at you both with a tight lipped, nearsay awkward, smile.

“I just asked Liz to Homecoming.” For the second time in the span of such little time, you choked on your food, finding Peter’s words very difficult to believe. You stared at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out how this incredible socially awkward boy could ever ask the gorgeous, social butterfly of the school to a very crowded school event.

Mj could physically feel her heart sink and she nearly felt sick. However, like always she hid behind that same face of uninterest, feigning the idea that those words didn’t stab into her chest everytime they repeated over and over in her head.

“That’s amazing Pete, but I don’t know how we can help?” you said. You’d hoped the words would discourage him enough that he’d go ask Ned or something about all his questions, leaving you and the heartbroken Mj to not have to deal with this. But clearly he didn’t get the hint.

“I-I need you to help me with, you know, girls.”

You sighed, feeling Mj’s tense energy even from just sitting beside her, and part of you wondered how Peter couldn’t feel it too. But looking at the boy he looked so happy, practically glowing and flashing you that innocent smile that you didn’t know how to say no to. With another sigh you decided you’d do this yourself, you wouldn’t force Mj to sit and listen to you talk about how Peter can impress a girl that isn’t her.

“Why don’t you swing by my place tonight, I’ll uh, help you out.’ You mentally smiled to yourself at the accidental pun you’d thrown in there. Swing, Spiderman, get it?

“You’re a lifesaver Y/N, thank you,” he said, scattering away to probably go and tell Ned the good news.

Between you and Mj now was a very uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know if it was because you’d agreed to help Peter or if she was still dwelling on his date not being her, and the fact she didn’t even get to ask him first. Either way though you had no idea how to start a new conversation, the two of you sitting silently side by side. Thankfully this time you were saved by the literal bell, a muttered thank you coming from you.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, standing from your seat and offering her a warm smile which unfortunately wasn’t returned. “Whatever.”

»»——⍟——««

The build up to homecoming felt like hell for Mj. She’d voiced to you over the last week all her worries about having to watch Peter and Liz getting to be all lovey-dovey all night and your heart broke for her. You could tell even though she was opening up to you about this, she was still much more hurt by the idea than she was letting on and you’d never been more angry at the clueless boy.

You’d try to assure and reassure her plenty of times that what they got up two didn’t matter. The two of you were going to have fun and you were going to enjoy yourselves tonight without any more heartache. After all Peter was just a dumb high school boy.

When the actual night arrived the girl was freaking out more than you think you’d ever seen her freak out. Some part of her was convinced she had to look perfect just in case Peter so happened to glance her way at any point during the night.

So here you were helping her get ready. She’d bought a pretty dress and insisted on doing her hair the same way as usual after you tried another style and she decided she hated it. She’d obviously apologised for momentarily snapping at you but you’d understood she was feeling really stressed.

You knew what it was like to constantly try and impress someone and fail each and every time, so you couldn’t blame her attempts at trying.

It didn’t take too long for both of you to get ready, however Mj was quick to begin doubting herself as she stared in the mirror for too long. You could see the insecurity on her face and your heart panged with sympathy.

“You’re going to kill tonight,” you said. You could tell your words had an effect on her as she began to shyly play with her hands. You grinned to yourself, bringing her hands in yours and up to your mouth to press a sweet kiss onto her knuckles. “You’re so perfect,” you told her.

Of course you didn’t actually want Peter to realise what was right in front of him and date Mj, but you weren’t going to hurt her because of your own feelings.

“Well, we should head out while we still look hot,” you said, sending her a wink that had her rolling her eyes at you. She took your hand and watched as your smile grew wider as she led you out of your apartment. “Let’s go.”

»»——⍟——««

The night felt like it was flying by with the amount of fun you were having. After making sure Mj couldn’t keep her eyes on Peter she loosened up quite a bit. You’d actually managed to get the stubborn girl to dance with you a little bit, something that not a single part of you expected to happen.

It was only when moving to get another drink you saw Liz sitting alone on the bleachers, no Peter in sight. You tapped Mj’s shoulder to draw her attention to it, motioning over to the girl. If she was being honest, her first reaction was relief, relief that her crush wasn’t dancing the night away with a girl that wasn’t her.

But after a quick re-evaluation of her feelings, she felt a strand of sympathy grow for the girl, but only a really really miniscule one.

“We have to help her,” you reasoned, trying to talk some sense into your friend. With a hesitant answer she nodded, swallowing her hurt and pride and following you over to the bleachers where Liz looked as though she was ready to cry.

She saw the two of you approach and offered you both a weak smile, having no protest to you taking a seat beside her.

“Are you okay?” you asked. She chuckled quietly, probably at herself for getting so worked up over a teenage boy, but nevertheless shook her head.

“He left. He said he was sorry and left.”

She truly did sound hurt by his actions, and you were mentally cursing Peter for hurting yet another sweet girl that didn’t deserve his stupidity.

“Where did he go?” you asked, trying to console the girl. She just shrugged, resting her head on your shoulder sadly as Mj watched the two of you. You rubbed your hand up and down Liz’s back, sending your best friend a warning glare as you saw the way her eyes sparkled. Whether it was out of hope or happiness, neither were appropriate right now.

Part of Mj really was happy that Peter had abandoned Liz. She’d told you that the only thing that could possibly ruin tonight was having to watch them together the whole night when she desperately wished it was her.

“I’m sorry Liz,” she said, pushing her feelings aside to try and be the bigger person. The girl nodded, flashing Mj a sad smile as she brought her hands up to wipe any stray tears.

“I think,” she started, drawing your and Mj’s attention to her. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

Your anger towards Peter only increased with Liz’s words. “Are you sure? You can stay with us if you’d like,” you offered. You could feel Mj’s glare burning into your side as you said the words and the girl was sure she’d cry if Liz was to agree to your suggestion.

Luckily for her though, Liz was quick to deny, telling you both that she really would prefer to go home than keep getting stares of pity and feel this deep sense of embarrassment. It isn’t everyday that someone gets stood up by a ‘nerd’ like Peter Parker, especially not someone like Liz Allan.

The two of you watched as she left the gym, ignoring the stares of nosey teenagers.

As soon as the doors were closed again you turned your full attention to Mj. “I’m proud of you,” you whispered, leaning your head on her shoulder. She sighed, shaking her head but leaning it on top of yours anyway.

“I was being selfish-“ she tried to argue. “But you did the right thing in the end,” you said, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting way. You felt the way the apples of her cheeks pressed against your head more defined and you just knew she was smiling at your words.

“Now, let’s go enjoy our night.”

»»——⍟——««

You were over the moon by the time you got back to your apartment that night. Your parents had made you tell them all about it and you could hardly contain your excitement from the night you’d spent dancing away with Mj. But overall, you were still exhausted and you were ready to just crawl into your bed and sleep for the next few hours.

You entered your room with your smile still permanently stuck on your face, closing the door behind you and pressing your back to the wood as you tried to calm your excitement from the night.

You didn’t expect someone to already be in your room, sitting on your bed to be exact. You flipped on the light and nearly had a heart attack upon seeing the suited boy sitting there, clutching his ribs with a pained expression on his face.

“Peter, oh my god,” You shrieked, trying to keep your voice down so you didn’t alert your parents. The boy’s face was beaten black and blue and from the way he was walking and clutching at his stomach, the rest of him wasn’t much better. “What happened to you?” you asked, rushing over to him to take a close look at his injuries. You could see the tears forming in his waterline and your heart ached for him, carefully wrapping your arms around him.

“Come on,” you said, leading him to your bathroom, a very familiar occurrence recently. Neither of you spoke while you tended to the cuts on his face. You wanted to let him tell you what happened when he was ready, plus you didn’t exactly feel like talking as you tried to quickly come down from the excitement of the night.

Your eyes caught sight of his hand resting in his lap, the skin split on his knuckles that had you wincing at the sight.

“Your hand,” you pointed out, noticing the slight burn marks on his skin when his hand shifted. He shook his head, telling you to ignore it and just help with his face. You tended to his busted lip and the cut right on his cheekbone, wiping away as much blood and dirt as you could.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes were burning holes into yours while you worked on him, noticing the concerned glint every time he’d hiss or wince at some pressure.

“No,” he whispered, the tears from earlier beginning to spill over his cheeks. You cooed quietly, pulling him back into you just so you could hold him. After tonight you were sure Mj would explode seeing the way you were holding Peter, and you felt guilty even if your actions were incredibly innocent. You wouldn’t dream of hurting her like that.

“What happened?” you asked, in the softest voice you could muster. You lightly guided his chin so he was looking into your eyes, his big doe eyes making him look like a lost puppy.

“This is going to sound insane, but,” he laughed to himself. “I- I was fighting Liz’s dad.”

He watched as your eyes widened in shock, your body freezing as you tried to process the words he’d just said. He tried to answer as many of your questions as he could before you even opened your mouth, knowing exactly what was already going through your head.

“Well, do you remember Liz’s party when you saw me on the roof?” It took a lot of explaining from Peter. But he eventually managed to tell you the entire story, right from the alien weapons the night of the party to taking him down and handing him over to the cops. You were surprised but you were sure these were the kinds of things you were going to have to get used to knowing his secret.

Conversation was quick to die down afterwards, neither of you knowing what else to say on the matter, but the thought of Liz after he left her in the gym was eating him alive.

“Did she seem mad?” he asked, timidly. Of course you knew who he was talking about straight away. You thought back on the night and even though it wasn’t the answer he wanted, you had to shrug your shoulders. “She was upset,” you said.

You heard him sigh beside you. “Did I really screw this up?” he asked, laying his head on your shoulder. You sighed, resting your head on top of his, much like how Mj had done to you earlier this afternoon. You weren’t planning on sugar coating this for him. “Yeah, you did.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss @hallecarey1 @writingrem @mamaparker28 @n0eliii @lovehollandy12 @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme

[jaypsnax]

Alright then, to take it from the top... here’s some things I’ve done here or there for this dang game, from oldest to newest. With a big chunk of months starting with the margin Floofty there. Much is traditional and such, which is not my most practiced medium. Details on each below, just because I like over-explaining and it helps my nerves about posting.

1st: Fairly certain this Gramble is the first thing I did that was OK enough to show. Or, at least close to the first. He was one of my favorites and still is for his kindness(though he also can be really mean and paranoid, also a reason why I like him), so I wanted to get around to em. Also he’s very cute, I love my little malewife. I wanna scoop him up and hold him. Trouble is, Gramble has to have some of the most awkward proportions I’ve yet experienced while trying to draw a grumpus, I swear. That, and the more I looked at it, the more I grew to be unhappy with it. That generally applies to basically all of the drawings from last year, I find them to be “eh” at best. But it is what it is. 2nd: Second up is Flooftyyy, my most favorite. Intelligent, well-spoken, morally ambiguous, NB... and an asshole. But one with a cause they believe in that’s ultimately well intentioned, which they’ll go to self-destructive lengths to fulfill. And it’s clear they struggle to really get a grasp on how to treat people and have learned to cope with their frustration by shutting everyone out and believing them to be ignorant. While still obviously playing favorites between Eggabell and Triffany :p But by the end of the game, they’re learning that in order to really do what they want, they’ve got to really try and understand others. They’re the sort that I’d love to keep following to see their development. The awkwardness, the uncomfortable apologies and attempts at empathizing or opening up, the potential for blossoming relationships and a connection with others that, maybe, they’ve never quite experienced before. Their character is one that’s kind of close to my heart for being interesting and also quite similar to one I made and roleplayed for years. Add in the fact they’re NB and that just sealed the deal, that’s some fucking gender goddamn euphoria right there. So I had to draw them. 3rd: This one also mostly falls under the same explanation as above, except it was an effort as really figuring out grumpus bodies and proportions and stuff. Albeit in the form of solely Floofty, but my mental bandwidth for anything more than a drawing or two at a time is zilch. After that I’m spent. It was the first thing that I felt even marginally satisfied with, however.... I just feel like I’m in danger when looking at it. Like I’m gonna lose my way of things and habits I’ve built now from observing it too closely. Did keep the eyes, however. Kind of. 4th: To be real w you I just felt like drawing a Filbo after seeing a Filbo. He’s cute and I’d put a smooch on his dumb little head. Also more practice w grump stuff, but with some intentional attempts at stylization. I guess it didn’t stick, but who knows, maybe I could pick some of it back up?  5th: THE FIRST NEW DRAWING FROM A FEW DAYS AGO and it’s FLOOFTY, of course. It’s not really the first, there’s a few other things before it, but they suck so... yeah. I’d crawled out of the Bugsnax hole somewhat after a few months and failing to really do anything I actually wanted to do before, but a particular fic conked me right back 6 ft under. Piled the dirt over me and packed it in tight. So here I am again. And not only is it like that, but after binging a whole nearly 60,000 words in a night/morning, I was struck with the inspiration to actually write myself. Or try to, anyway. I have experience in RPing, but not a whole lot in actually... making a story myself. It’s not been going well, but I’ve talked plenty about that already... I’m sure it gets annoying for the whole maybe one person whose seen most of it to witness. And I’m still having fun. I’d mention the fic, but considering it’s NSFW and I’m officially tagging this... I don’t know if they’d want me advertising it as such. But surprise surprise, it’s Floofty related. And don’t get the wrong idea, while it covers explicit subject matter, that’s not entirely the point. Not a bad thing if it were, just that it’s more than that. I just like good character writing over all else, which is something liking this game to begin with heavily reinforced.... 6th: Heeeere’s Gramble, again. I’d been doing some little drawings for character profile stuff in my notebook, but I started to run into some difficulties when I got to him. This here is one of the results of the couple of little draws I did to try and understand. Again, his proportions are so *weird*. He’s just a little guy.... 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th: Here marks the first impulse draw after considering Buddy/Filbo/Beffica poly stuff. As well as the sudden Buddy drawing in general, which came as a big shock to me. These draws are suuuper rough, but I like the concepts. And goodness has this stuff been a whole ‘nother tangent... I did a fair amount of talking about it here. I’d do more, since there were TONS of details I still wanted to mentioned, but... my hands are starting to hurt. So maybe later. I realized that I kinda of messed up their design in my head bc I thought they had more similar teeth to Clumby. Whoops. That’s what I get for not using reference and same with FlooFTY’S TEETH AND THE WATCH NOOOOOOOOOO- .... *Ahem* I reckon the design is subject to change. Gotta make some little adjustment here or there, like maybe different eyes to distinct them from Floofty, but I actually rather... like the look. The hat, tie, and maybe a change to a bag on the side look nice... if totally not canon. But I will have just a little break from canon, as a treat. Otherwise it’s canon or bust. Personally, at least. I don’t really hold others to that standard unless they say they’re trying to follow canon or diverge so badly that a character is unrecognizable.

[43sparrows]

satisfied - {Five x Reader AU}

Read Part 1 & Part 2 & Part 3 / Part 3.5 & Part 4

Warning: a rollercoaster from start to end

Word Count: 4,512

Note: Here it is. The final installment. I'm also impressed I've managed to pull off my own little goal which was to make each chapter longer as we go deeper and deeper into this relationship. It was fun to write, and I hope you stick with me for my next series

You've ignored four of his calls.

Well, technically, you've only ignored one, deleting the message from the answering machine after a short but brutal internal war. The other three times he's tried to get in touch with you were on the typical ripped out notes taped to your mirror. Each one was plucked down, scanned for words you didn't really expect to find (sorry, mistake, asshole), and then tossed into the waste bin.

You know that even as fucked up as your last encounter was, he deserves more--an explanation or at least a clean break--but you can't bring yourself to give him either. And you hate that about yourself. You hate it because you know why you can't do it, and the feeling that comes from this fact is worse than any of the ways Five's ever made you feel.

So, you don't call him. Instead, you work to erase the little traces of him you find in your apartment and in your thoughts until at last you're faced with something you can't just stick in the garbage: the man himself.

He's standing at the foot of your bed, hands on his hips and brow knit together. The look stops you dead in your tracks as you enter the room.

"You're avoiding me."

You feel like you're going to throw up. The thought briefly crosses your mind that if you do, you might get out of having this conversation. But instead you take a few more steps into the room and close the door behind you. When you face him again, you find his finger tapping at his waist. Your eyes remain on the finger instead of his face and you stay silent. This isn't an admission of guilt, but he seems to take it as one.

"Why?" he demands.

Objectively, you know the words. You're proficient in more than one language, so frankly you have more than enough words to use. But you can't seem to piece them together quite right, and so, no sound comes out. Instead you turn your gaze to your right and it lands on the candle on your bookshelf. The flame flickers, dancing in a breeze you can't feel yourself. You feel like there's a metaphor somewhere in there.

"Look--"

"Why would you do that to me, Five?" Your voice is soft, but the interruption effectively cuts him off. If you were looking, you'd imagine you'd see his eyes squint at you in frustrated confusion. His mouth would be slightly open, and you'd want to kiss it closed. So you can't face him. Your gaze stays fixated on the candle.

"Do what?"

You wet your lips as if that will help get out what you need to say. It doesn't work, but it does buy you a bit of time and makes the tension in the room that much more palpable. You wonder if that's what's guiding the flame through its movements.

"You brought me to Howl's just to fuck me in front of my ex."

Five's quiet now, and you chance a look at him from the corner of your eye. He doesn't look frustrated, but he does look like he's working a math problem and each time he comes to the end he gets a different solution.

He notices you're looking and tries to catch your eye, so you turn back to watch the candle burn it's way down the wick.

"You said you wanted something to shove in his face."

You don't remember saying that, but it's true. You did want something to shove in his face. But not like this. You shake your head at him.  "Not that." Your voice is both airy and tight, and it's not a good sign. "That wasn't anything worth shoving in his face."

"What?" There's heat in Five's voice now, and you can tell that something you've said has pushed a button. "He's working two jobs so he can get married to some boring elementary school teacher, and you're having mindblowing sex with the closest thing this city has to a goddamn superhero. Who came out on top there?"

"You," you say, simply.

"Me?" he repeats, and you finally find the strength to turn and face him. His eyebrows have shot up so high, you're surprised they're not touching his hairline.

"You're the one who got what they wanted out of that show Five. Because he's still happily getting married having been proven right that I'm nothing more than a call girl dumb enough to work for free."

Five narrows his eyes at you, and there's nothing confused about the look. Instead, he looks downright mean. You realize in that look, that he's missed the point completely. He's not listening to you. He's not seeing you. And you're starting to realize that he may not even want to. The realization hurts. It fucking hurts. Like you're being ripped apart from the inside. And the worst part is that you really should have known this.

Before he can get any words out, you beat him to the punch. It's the only way this argument was ever going to end.   "I can't do this anymore, Five."

The look shifts into one of incredulousness and then disgust and then stoniness. And then, without a word, he vanishes.

You feel like you've collapsed on the inside.

Apparently, you look like it too.

Your boss had taken one look at you and tried to send you back home. You'd told her that you were fine to work and made it half the day before she insisted you looked truly terrible and needed to go home. And maybe see a doctor.

Judging by the look on your roommate's face, you look even worse now that you've made it home.

"Are you alright?" she asks, peering up at you from the couch.

"Got sent home early," you mumble. It's not exactly an answer to her question, but you hope that it gets you out of having to talk anymore. It's not that you don't love your roommate. But you'd rather crawl in bed and stay there for a month if it meant that you didn't have to socialize with any humans in the meantime.

You successfully shuffle all the way into your room and drop your things next to your desk before the TV shuts off. Your roommate's footsteps echo throughout the apartment, and then there's silence and the feeling of someone hovering in the doorway behind you.

"I'm worried," she says, and you sigh, your shoulders dropping as you turn around.

"I'm fine."

She hums a no and gestures at your room.  You've let piles of dirty clothes take over most of the floor. There's about six different cups scattered on different surfaces, all with varying levels of water in them. Only one of the candles is lit. Her eyes find yours again, and you can't help but look away. "You've been locked in here all weekend. And most of last week too. I know he hasn't been by. He hasn't even called. What's up?"

You shrug helplessly, and the same way they do any time you think of Five, your eyes betray you and start to water.

"You don't know?" she presses, and you shake your head, looking off to the side, trying to get yourself under control. She walks into the bedroom then, coming around to sit on the edge of your bed and stare up at you. "Talk to me, Y/N. Seriously, I'm worried about you, and I don't know what to do."

"I--" your voice feels too thick, and you're having a hard time keeping it even as it comes out. "It's over." Your roommate's eyebrows draw down in sympathy as do the corners of her mouth.

"He ended it."

You shake your head and swallow. "I did." The pitch is too high now.

"Why?" your roommate's voice softens in response to yours, and it's then that you break, face crumpling, tears falling, and a broken sob escaping. She doesn't say anything more, instead rising from the bed and wrapping her arms around you from the side, leaning her head against your shoulder.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time to stop crying. Then again, any time spent crying over a boy who you weren't dating and never made any promises in terms of feelings or commitments was embarrassing. But, when you do slow down, you finally find the words to tell her everything. What happened while she was away. Your trip to the bar and what you discovered. Your fight. She listens and doesn't say anything, instead doing the one thing that you need most from her: she doesn't let go.

You look less like shit.

But you still feel awful.

It's been just over a week since your fight with Five, and you feel like you should be over it by now. The disappointment, the embarrassment, the hurt. But you're not. Sure, you don't exactly feel like an open wound anymore. But you feel a bit like someone's just put a single layer of gauze on top, and that's not nearly enough.

So, you decide there's only one course of action that will make you feel better on this Saturday morning: Griddy's Doughnuts.

Just walking into the shop makes you feel lighter. The sweet smell of the different glazes and jellies wafts through the air, and kids are crammed up against the doughnut case and perched on stools with their parents. Walking into the place is like a time warp--it feels exactly the same way it did all those years ago when you were the kid tugging at her mom's hand.

And then you make accidental eye contact, and it all shatters. Because the brown eyes you're staring into belong to none other than Vanya Hargreeves.

You pull over to the side of the line to do the right thing and make brief small talk. If it hadn't been for two occasions where she'd come home sooner than planned, you wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't recognize you. But this girl's seen you half naked and spoken to you several times over the phone. She knows more of you than you wish she did. She probably feels the same way. Regardless of the willingness either of you have to engage in this conversation, she's coming over, bag of doughnuts and tray of coffee in hand.

"Y/N, hi," she greets, offering a nervous looking smile.

"Hi," Your own attempt at a smile is disastrous. It's too tight and it doesn't reach your eyes. It hardly even reaches your cheekbones. "Seems like we had the same idea for breakfast."

She nods, looking down at the bag in her hand. "Yeah. We have this family tradition to grab Griddy's whenever one of us--"  she stops then, seeming to remember who she's talking to and restarts with a safer question. "How are you?"

Vanya's voice sounds the way Griddy's smells--like nostalgia and comfort and it makes you ache inside. You want to know how her sentence was going to end, but you want out of this conversation more.

"I'm fine," It comes out more of an exhale than a word, and she seems to see right through it.

She nods, her smile taking on a sad quality. "You and Five both then. Guess we did get the same memo about Griddy's."

A silence seeps in between the two of you, and you hate the way this feels--like you're drowning in the middle of a swimming pool and trying not to call attention to it.

"I don't want to pry--" She must see you go rigid because she seems to decide on a different route. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sorry it didn't work out. I know you guys cared a lot about each other."

You don't know how to respond to that. You're not sure if you want to be the fool who fell in love with her friends with benefits or the slut who was just in it for phenomenal sex or the bitch who points out Vanya's brother is a heartless bastard and doesn't deserve doughnuts because he clearly never gave a damn. She must catch the crease between your eyebrows, your lips instinctively puckering into a qualification, because she saves you from responding.

"Look, I know Five can be...a lot. And I don't know what he did, but I can tell it was big and it wasn't good." She looks like she wants to reach out and touch you, but her hands--thankfully--are full. "But you should know, he checks the answering machine every day."

It stings. He still thinks you'll call.

And you almost have.

You can't look at her open and earnest face any longer, so you look down at the ground and nod dumbly. "Thanks." She stays in front of you, and you can feel that she wants to break the silence again.  You swallow hard and force yourself to meet her gaze once more. "Well, I don't want your coffees to get cold. It was nice to run into you, though, Vanya."

She nods, her mouth settling into a line. "Take care of yourself, ok?" she asks, and you lift your lips into half a smile because it's just about as much as you can manage. She nods once more and then turns and leaves the doughnut shop. You get in line.

Your roommate decides it's time for you to leave the house.

You point out that you leave the house almost every day.

She argues that leaving for work doesn't count. It's been two weeks and you need to have fun.

You insist that if you're going to have fun, it's not going to be on a Tuesday.

She informs you that there will be dollar tacos where she's going.

That's how you end up at Don Pablo's at eight o'clock on a Tuesday night with your roommate and two other friends all crowded around a table. It's hard to say what it is, the dollar tacos, the strong margaritas, the good company or the Spanish covers of pop songs, but whatever the reason, you're feeling lighter than you have. You're even laughing as your friend, Faith, updates you on the latest antics of the passive aggressive post-it queen at her work.

"That is...one hell of a story," someone to the right of your table says, and the eyes of the group look up to a lanky man with shoulder length brown hair. He's wearing a mesh crop top that sparkles a little under the light and leather pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, a fact that's captured Sam's attention.

The man pushes off from where he's leaning against the coat rack, and it's a testament to Faith's storytelling prowess that not a single one of you noticed him lurking there until this point. He motions for Faith to budge over, and the motion is so familiar and friendly that she scoots without protest.

"So," he says, resting his chin in both of his palms. "Which one of you radiant young ladies is Y/N?"

The words are objectively skeevy, but much like his admittance to the table, this earns nothing but a few snorts and smiles. He's also smiling like he's in on the joke, and it's genuine and sparkling rather than leering. You're half tempted to tell him, but your roommate stops you.

"Why?" Nasreen asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Because she's the one person who will save us from my brother's broody pining," he says with a faux pout.

Nasreen's eyebrows lift even higher. "Isn't it a little middle school of your brother to send you over here for him?"

He chuckles and lifts his head, shaking a finger at your roommate. She grins back at him. "Yes, it would be, but he very expressly told me not to come over here. I'm here looking for Y/N of my own free will." He glances around the table and steals a chip out of your basket, dipping it into the salsa. "Technically," he says, crunching down on the chip. "I'm risking my life for this."

Sam laughs and the man grins, reaching for another chip. "It's true. He said, and this is a direct quote, 'Klaus, if you go over there, I will drive this tiny umbrella through your eyeball until it hits that thing you call a brain and puts us all out of our misery.'" He pops the chip into his mouth and gives a dramatic eye roll. "Very eloquent, my brother."

Your friends laugh at this, even Nasreen, but you grow cold. Because you know one person with a brother named Klaus.

"So," Klaus bounces his shoulders once, sitting up straighter. "Who am I sacrificing myself for?" He looks around the table pleasantly just as Sam glances at you. It's a small motion, but Klaus latches onto it. "Ah," Klaus says gesturing toward you. "I'm going to need you to come fuck my brother."

Faith spits out her margarita. Sam barks out a sudden laugh. Nasreen blinks and draws back into the booth.

"I know he's an emotionally stunted little asshole, but he's been even more insufferable than usual, and Vanya says it's because of you." He drops his hand onto the table, relaxing back into the booth. "Obviously, he's the one at fault--you seem like an angel. But it would mean the world if you would come fix our little shitheel."

It's the name Vanya that brings Nasreen up to speed.

"I'm vetoing this right now," your roommate says, shaking her head. Klaus presses his hands together and points them at her.

"Your objection has been heard and noted, but let's hear from Y/N."

All of the eyes on the table are on you, and dollar tacos isn't enough to redeem this moment. You shake your head slowly. "No."

"No," Klaus repeats. He seems surprised.

"No, I'm tired of being fucked over so Five can feel better. No." Your roommate's approval radiates over you, strengthening the feeling. Faith and Sam straighten up at the mention of Five.

Klaus heaves a sigh and leans back to rest his head on the top of the booth's cushion. "I don't blame you, but I don't want to go back over there," he says to the ceiling. "Not only is he going to publicly murder me, but he'll probably drive me up this stucco painted wall with his moodiness before he does it." He lolls his head to turn to Faith. "Can I stay here with you?"

Faith laughs a little, looking at the rest of you.

"Depends," your roommate says, leaning on the table.

"On?" Klaus raises an eyebrow.

"If the next round is on you."

When you stumble into your apartment, it's a little past 1 am, and you're not so much as drunk as you are high on a good time. Allowing Klaus to stay at your table had been the best decision you'd made in the past...month? Maybe longer. Not only had he supplied you with enough good stories to take your mind far away from Five (whose gaze you could feel once you knew it was there) but Klaus had also pulled each of you up to salsa with him despite the fact that it wasn't a dance bar at all. Still, several other couples from different tables had followed his lead, and you'd allowed yourself to be spun and turned about until your legs were ready to collapse.

It's hard to imagine that anything can bring yourself down from this feeling as you place a kiss on your roommate's cheek and thank her for dragging you out.

Then again, you hardly imagined Five would be popping into your bedroom at 1:30 in the morning.

His hair is wild, eyes are hazy, and he looks more disheveled than you've ever seen him. "You were there. You were there and Klaus came over, and what the fuck?"

You've never heard so many nonsensical words come out of his mouth.

"Are you...drunk?" you ask, dumping your clothes at the door to your closet.

"Figured that one out," he says, gesturing flailingly at you.  "I got drunk because that's what you do when the one person in this world who doesn't make your life worse won't even look across a bar at you." He says.

You, for your part, remain silent, head tilted, trying to make sense of what's going on--how much of this is him and how much of it is the alcohol. Because you can't believe he's this upset--Five doesn't seem to do emotions other than stressed, horny, and smug.

He sways a bit. "You were right there. Right there. And you didn't even look at me. Not even when fuckin' Klaus went over."

"I didn't realize you cared that much," you say quietly.

Five scoffs. "Why else would I spend five days hunting down your ex just so you could get your closure."

You blink several times at this fact, but you don't have time to formulate some sort of response before he continues. "Do you know how many Jordan Millers there are in this city?"

"You--what?" The words come out as hardly more than a disbelieving whisper.

"Five days and perfect planning to get you there and have it all work out at just the right moment, only for you to end it. No reason. You just ended it."

You swallow hard and then fix him with a stare. Because he's right--he should at least have a reason. "I didn't end it because of Howl's." You pause, and he takes it as the end of the sentence because he continues on.

"I don't even know what happened. I keep trying to work it out. It's all I can fucking think about, and I can't figure it out. You wanted just sex, so I gave you just sex. You wanted to show up your ex, so I made sure you could show up your ex." His voice takes on a hysterical quality as he starts to pace the room. "What am I missing? Please, enlighten me. Because Vanya and Allison are up my ass about trying to fix things with you, and hell if I know where to begin."

"You can't fix this," you shake your head and then wet your lips, steeling yourself up for the most embarrassing truth. "I ended it because I wanted more, and you didn't."

He pauses and then lets out a manic laugh. "So you left because you wanted to be with me?"

"I left because I thought it was just sex to you, and that's all it would ever be."

"That's all it was supposed to be," he says, not stopping his pacing.  "That's what we both wanted."

"Wanted," you repeat, quietly. "Wants change."

He lets out a manic laugh. "Oh, I know that," he says and stalks closer to you. "Why else would I be here right now, still trying to figure out what you want so I can give it to you instead of fucking any of the girls who came up to me tonight?"

You blink a few times, and this has to be an exhaustion induced delusion, because there's no way he's saying what you think he's saying.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, quietly. He doesn't answer, instead closing the remainder of the distance, pulling your body flush against yours and kissing you.

He tastes like margaritas. His kiss is as intoxicating as the alcohol itself, the sensation rushing through your body and urging you to relax into him. He's only kissed you four times before, and all of those were different. In those kisses his hands ran over your body, pushing at your clothes, his frame walking you back towards the bed. But now he's solid, and his hands are still, a vice keeping you close to him as his lips remain on yours.

It takes an extraordinary strength of will to extract yourself from his kiss. "Don't do this," you whisper, your lips brushing his since he's chased after your kiss.

"Why?" he pulls you even closer, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"Because you don't mean this," you say, bringing your hands in between your bodies to push him away. "You're drunk and you're lonely and…"

"And I want you," he says, not moving, ducking his head to kiss you again.

"No you don't."

The words make him step back angrily. "I don't know how to make it any fucking clearer," he says, raking a hand through his hair. "I want you. I want you Y/N. I wish I didn't. I wish things would go back to being just sex. Because my life was so much easier then. But they can't. Not for you and not for me. You want more. I want you. So why won't you just accept that and let me kiss you?"

As far as romantic speeches go, it's pretty shitty.

"Fine," you say.

It's an equally shitty romantic response.

But then he's kissing you again, and you let yourself lean into the hope that maybe, come morning, he'll still mean what he said.

When you wake up, Five's gone.

The other side of the bed is tucked in tightly, like he was never even there. But you know he was. Because if he wasn't, there's no reason for your whole body to ache inside and out. It's tempting to stay in bed and throw yourself a mix of pity party and roast. After all, last night you exhibited top tier dumbassery.

But you're tired of feeling like shit. So you drag yourself out from under the covers and towards your door, hoping that some coffee and a warm breakfast will help you to feel better.

You pad out the door and down the short hallway to come out to the kitchen where your roommate is pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“My head hurts like a sonofabitch,” she says, reaching into the cabinet to grab down a mug for you. “You?”

You give a rueful smile and head over to stand next to her by the coffeepot. “Surprisingly, I’m ok. Better than yesterday.”

“Good,” she says, filling your mug up.

Your toilet flushes, and both you and your roommate look at each other. The silent question is answered not long after as there, appearing in the doorway, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking a bit disheveled, is Five.

It’s the first time your roommate has ever seen him.

“Uh…hello?” your roommate says, and Five nods at her, moving forward to steal your mug of coffee. He lifts it to his lips and takes a long sip.

“You’re…here,” you say dumbly, and he nods, drinking some more coffee.

“It’s where I want to be.”

Your roommate looks between the two of you. “And you are…”

“Five,” he says over his coffee, and your roommate looks between the two of you wildly before finally settling you with a significant look.

“You’re going to have to make more coffee, and explain all of this to me,” she says, circling a finger at Five.

You look at him, a small twist of a smile on your lips. “Fine with me.”

[babymetaldoll]

Spilling drinks on my settee (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Prompt: Start a story with "Can you keep a secret?"

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader 

Word count: 2,8K

Genre: Fluff

Warning: none 

Summary: Spencer is drunk with Morgan, finally sharing his feelings for Reader 

Part two

Masterlist

- “Can you keep a secret?”

Spencer was drunk. He leaned over Derek tapping on his shoulder a few times, making him chuckle at the scene. Dr. Reid was never the one to go out, less going to a bar and have a few too many drinks. Hell no! He could be the designated driver for life, if only he liked to drive. When he joined his BAU friends on their nights out, he would usually stick with a whisky that could last the whole night, or even left untouched at the table after he left. But that night, Spencer Walter Reid was drunk as a skunk. Wasted. And his best friend was the only witness.

- “Ok kid, tell me your secret”

- “I'm in love”- the words came like a slur out of his lips, the ones that curled into a guilty smile- Stupid, crazy, and irrevocably in love.

- “No shit!”- Derek pretended to be surprised, but he would have been a lousy profiler if he had missed the look on his best friend's face in the latest months. He nearly had hearts draw on his eyes, like a cartoon.

- “Yesss”- he made that "s" sound longer than it should have and closed his eyes for a few seconds- “Yes, I am.”

Morgan was still chuckling as he stared at the kid. He was still a kid for him, though he was already 30. He still acted like one, still shy, inexperienced. He had more attitude on his job now, on the field, with the unsubs, his pairs. But in his personal life... well, that was a whole different story.

- “Do you want to know who she is?”- Reid whispered and brought a finger to his lips.

- “But shhhh! you can't tell anyone 'cos it's a secret”- it was getting harder for Morgan to remain serious at that conversation, but he managed to keep his poker face and nodded at his friend.

- “But you can't tell Penelope 'cos she is going to tell the whole FBI! I'm sure!”

- “I won't tell her”

- “When I told her I was afraid of the dark, everybody ended up making fun of me...”

- “I swear I won't, kid”- Derek nodded and reassured his best friend he could trust him. He knew it was hard for Reid to talk about his feelings, that was probably why he had gotten that drunk to share them.

It had been unusual when Spencer walked over to Derek and asked if he wanted to get a drink with him after work. It was weirder when he said he wanted it to be just the two of them instead of the whole team, cos "he had some serious business" he wanted to share with him.

- “I'm in love with (Y/N)”- and yes, Derek was right. Spencer wanted to talk about the obvious.

The whole team knew he was in love with (Y/N). It was crystal clear. It was so obvious even Strauss had joked about it with Rossi once. Yes, Spencer's feelings were so clear and visible, everybody was aware of his love.

Everyone but (Y/N), apparently.

Derek knew ('cos it was a well-established fact that Penelope couldn't keep a secret) that (Y/N) was sure Spencer wasn't interested in her. Garcia had tried to convince her their genius was head over feet for her, but Reid had made an excellent job in looking uninterested in her.

Why? 'cos he was stupid, and it had nothing to do with his high IQ. It was simply 'cos he was scared. Petrified by the idea he could lose her, so he had made sure his actions were nothing but friendly with her. They were best friends ever since they met, over six years ago when they both had started in the BAU, but despite their feelings, none of them had acted on them.

- “No way!”- Derek pretended to be shocked, and Spencer was so drunk he didn't get Morgan's sarcasm. Instead, he nodded and sighed.

- “Yes, I love her... I am in love, I think about her all day long when I'm not with her, and when she is around, I can't stop staring, she is the sun and I orbit around her existence.”

Derek widened his eyes as he listened to the corniest words he had ever heard Spencer pronounce before.

- “And I need help, 'cos I don't know what to do about it”

- “I think you should tell her, kid”- but Spencer shook his head frantically as if his friend had asked him to do the worst thing he could have ever thought.

- “No man, really, you've got a pretty good chance there, and you don't wanna live in the regret of thinking what could have been if you had done anything”

- “No, Morgan, I can't, I can't do that”- Spencer nearly started shaking at his best friend's suggestion. The fact he was being honest about his feelings to his friend was one thing, but sharing those feelings with the woman of his dreams, that wasn't on his plans.

Why? He couldn't find a good reason to do it. As far as he knew, letting (Y/N) know he loved her as no one had ever loved her before, could only mean the end of their friendship. And Spencer could live having (Y/N) only as his friend for the rest of his life, though it would break his heart deeper and deeper every day. But he couldn't live not having her by his side. He knew he couldn't. And he was sure if he revealed his true feelings to her, she was going to leave his side and disappear, end their friendship, and ignore his existence for the rest of his life.

Yes, Spencer was being dramatic, but he was scared. His mind kept telling him as soon as he told her how much he loved her, (Y/N) was going to disappear from his life as fast as everyone he cared for had done before.

- “If you don't want to tell her, then what's your plan, kid?”- Morgan asked the one million dollar question. Spencer just stared at him and took a sip of his whiskey.

- “I don't know”

- “Shit!”- Derek nearly shouted- “That's the first time I ever hear you say such a thing! man!”

- “Shut up! I don't know why I'm telling you this, I knew you were gonna make fun of me”

Spencer rested his head on his arm on the table and closed his eyes.

- “I just thought 'cos you are so smooth with women, maybe you could help me”

- “I can help you, Reid, I can, you just have to be open to the idea of telling her how you feel”

- “How can I tell her? she is gonna hate me”

- “She won't!”- Morgan tapped on his friend's back again and tried to calm him down.

- “How do you know?! You have never been rejected by any woman ever since I met you!”- but it didn't work, mostly because there was nothing on earth that could calm Spencer down at that point.

- “I know she likes you”

- “Sure, right!”- Reid snorted and finished what was left in his glass- “I need another one.”

- “You need to slow down, maybe get some water and fresh air”- Morgan stopped him when he tried to get to the bar and pulled him back to his seat

- “No, no no, you don't get it, Morgan, she went on a date with some random guy from a dating website...”

And Morgan realized where his friend's fears were coming from.

- “She is looking for someone, and clearly that someone ain't me!”

- “Maybe she is looking for someone to stop thinking about you”- Spencer furrowed his brows at Derek's words and stared at his hands on the table for a moment.

- “Come on man! you have to give yourself some credit! you are smart, you are funny, she is always laughing when she is around you”

- “At me! laughing at me! everybody laughs at me!”- for someone so smart, Dr. Reid was acting like an ass.

- “With you! be real, she is the girl who laughs at your jokes, listens to your rambling for hours, and actually pays attention to what you say”- Reid nodded, thinking of the sound of her laughter- “And you two spend most of your weekends off together!”

- “Clearly, she doesn't want to do that anymore, if she is looking for guys on dating apps”- Reid sounded bitter and hurt, two things he had never been very good at dealing with.

- “Why don't you ask her?”- Derek knew what Spencer was going to answer at that, the same he had said when he told him to be honest with her about his feelings: "No way". But instead, he only got a deep silence back.

- “Reid?”

- “You know what? I'm gonna ask her”- he whispered and nodded at himself- “I wanna ask her if she doesn't want to spend time with me anymore”

Morgan widened his eyes in shock.

- “And I'm gonna ask her now!”

- “Wait, kid”- but this time, he couldn't stop him, Reid grabbed his sachet, his jacket and stormed out of the bar, stumbling against a few people on his way out, 'cos he was too drunk to walk straight.

- “Kid! come one, wait!”

Derek followed him as fast as he could and grabbed his arm as he walked to her house. (Y/N) lived a few blocks from the bar, Reid didn't need a cab to get there, and he decided to face her and ask her why she didn't want to spend time with him anymore.

Of course, that wasn't the reason (Y/N) had gone out on that date. She actually wanted to spend all of her free time with him, but Prentiss had her forced to go out after hearing she hadn't been out in at least two years. Two years without a date. Two years actually without sex. Emily nearly died at the news, she couldn't believe anyone could live like that, and so, she forced her friend out with some random guy from a website.

- “There's no way you are spending another Friday night on your own! you need to have fun!”

- “I'm not gonna spend Friday night on my own! Friday nights are board game nights with Reid”- Prentiss frowned and crossed her arms on her chest staring at (Y/N) pouting.

- “Whatever it is you are thinking, please don't say it”

- “Boardgames with Reid, please tell me that means he is fucking your brains off on his dining table on top of a monopoly board”- (Y/N) wished her friend was right, but no.

- “Actually... no, it's Jenga night”

- “You are so going out this weekend!”

And she did, not Friday night, but Saturday afternoon. And it had been one of the worst dates (Y/N) had ever been on. Just like she had said that day back in the office, the guy was cute but dumb. On his behalf, she was in love with Spencer Walter Reid, any guy on earth was going to look dumb compared to him. But to be honest, he wasn't really bright either. And (Y/N) wasn't into him at all. They had a coffee, went to see a movie, and called it the night.

Spencer had no idea about that date, she never wanted to tell him 'cos it meant nothing to her. But after hearing the story of the date earlier that day, Spencer was a mess. He didn't know what to think, and that was the reason he was out there, drunk, asking Derek for advice.

He had tried to avoid her for the rest of the afternoon, he was upset, and he knew he was going to be passive-aggressive if they shared any word - he couldn't help it even when he knew he didn't have to act that way- and so, he didn't look from his paperwork until it was time to leave.

It was a good thing they were swamped with work, and (Y/N) didn't notice her best friend was giving him the cold shoulder from a safe distance.

- “Reid, Reid, wait!”- Morgan grabbed his best friend's arm and stopped him in his tracks- “What are you doing? you can't talk to her like this!”

- “I want to know! I deserve to know!”

- “Kid, you are drunk, you are not thinking straight”

- “Or am I?”- Spencer was slurring and his eyes were half-closed. Still, he knew what he was doing. He was making a mistake on purpose 'cos at that point, he was desperate.

- “Come on man, you are not thinking this, (Y/N) never said she is going out 'cos she doesn't want to spend her time you with you, those are your insecurities talking”

- “If she didn't do it because of that, then why?”- but Morgan couldn't answer, not because he didn't know the answer, but because Reid's retchings forced him to help him and pull his scarf and sachet back as he started puking in the middle of the sidewalk.

- “I think I'm gonna take you home now, kid”

Spencer felt like shit. He wasn't only drunk, but also miserable. He hated getting intoxicated like his, but he had no idea what else to do. He was lost and scared and wretched. He thought talking with Derek was gonna help, but he didn't know what to expect from his friend anyway, the only advice he got from Morgan was sharing his feelings with (Y/N), but... Reid knew he wasn't doing that, not in this life. Not if it meant he could lose her.

- “What the hell is going on here?”- (Y/N)'s voice felt like cold water running down Spencer's spine. He paused his puking for a second to look at her, and kind of smiled.

- “Oh! hey Buttercup!”- and that was all he could say before he continued vomiting.

- “Derek?”- the woman was shocked, had Spencer just called her by a cute nickname? she had always done it with him, he was her honey bunny, but he had never done it before... and she loved it- “What the fuck?”

- “Hey pretty girl!”- Morgan did his best to play it cool, though he was also freaking out. He knew (Y/N) wasn't going to be happy to know he let Spencer get that drunk. He was aware it wasn't his fault (not completely), but he also knew she was going to blame him anyway.

- “Why is Spencer drunk and puking on the front steps of my building?”

- “There's a very logical explanation for this”- Derek tried to elaborate on that idea, but nothing came to his head.

- “We had a few drinks”- Reid whispered and sighed, after everything he had eaten and drank had left his stomach.

- “Did you know alcohol is essentially a toxin, and so it can easily upset your stomach and cause you to vomit, particularly if you consume too much?”

Of course, being drunk didn't stop Spencer from being himself. After all, he didn't know how to be anybody else.

- “And now I'm taking him home”- Derek wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder and looked around, trying to find a cab.

- “But what are you guys doing here?”- (Y/N) wasn't getting what was going on, and she was honestly concerned Spencer was intoxicated. She knew he lived alone, no one was going to take care of him.

- “Honey, do you wanna come inside?”

- “Yes, yes, I do”- Reid didn't hesitate- “We should go inside”

- “No, you are drunk, you are going to your house”- Derek didn't let Spencer move, knowing he was too drunk to have a coherent conversation with (Y/N), and making his best to prevent him from making a huge mistake. 

Morgan knew she was in love with him, but he didn't want him to talk to her under the influence, he knew it was something Spencer was going to regret in the morning.

- “Are you sure you don't wanna let him stay here?”- the girl asked and bit her lip, worried- “He can stay on my couch...”

- “He's gonna be ok, I'll take care of him”- Morgan smiled at (Y/N) and nodded- “It's my fault he is like this, I'm not gonna let you clean this mess.”

Her lips curled into a short smile. She looked at her best friend wasted, puke on his pants and shoes. His hair was a mess - a mess she wanted to run her fingers through, even when he was intoxicated - and his brow eyes were glassy. Even drunk he was gorgeous.

- “I'll call you tomorrow, ok?”- she whispered and Spencer nodded- “And I'll see you at work... I'll bring aspirins and coffee”- he kept nodding, feeling sick at the stomach again.

Derek stopped a cab and helped Reid in as (Y/N) stood at the sidewalk staring at her friends leaving.

- “What the fuck just happened?”

- “You owe me, kid”- Reid heard those words as he hugged his pillow and closed his eyes. He was on his bed, still fully dressed. He had only managed to take out his satchel and his shoes.

- “I wanted to stay over”- he murmured, making Morgan chuckle. The kid was acting like one.

- “Believe me, you'll thank me in the morning”

[cluelesslesbian]

i'm gonna have to apologize in advance for this one

but say this is a klance high-school au

• school has let out for the day and teens are rushing out of the building

• in more of the front of the crowd is lance, along with pidge and hunk

• lance is doing his daily ranting about mullet head who doesn't even care about his existence

• suddenly, pidge pulls them both aside, giving hunk a look

• he nods, grabbing at his phone without saying a word

• lance is just asking a million questions

• "what are you guys doing?"

• "why is no one saying anything??"

• "why are you pulling out your phone?"

• "is this revenge for what i did last week?"

• "i said i was sorry!"

• pidge shushes him, pointing over at keith, who's walking out of the school with his hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted down

• hunk starts playing a song on his phone

• but not any song

• he plays call me maybe

• pidge explains: "get your ass over there and give him your number all while singing along to the lyrics."

• "what?! you're insane!"

• "you wanted us to help, so we're helping."

• "...are you sure this'll work?"

• "trust us. it will."

• "like trusting you guys got me anywhere good."

• but, lance is curious and is willing to at least make some sort of attempt at asking him out

• it's better than nothing

• and at least anytime someone would ask them how they met, they'd have an interesting story to tell

• the music draws attention to more kids as hunk turns up the volume, giving lance a thumbs up as he walks over there

• keith looks over to see his crush walking up to him, wearing a nervous smile

• before he can ask what he wants

• or make an excuse to get the fuck out of there

• lance starts singing along to the main chorus

• along with hand gestures to go along with the lyrics

• he hands a folded up sticky note to keith after, his phone number scribbled inside

• giving keith a wink before rushing back over to his friends, trying to snatch pidge's phone to stop recording

• keith just stands there

• not noticing that shiro was honking the horn at him

• he snapped out of it when hearing his name getting called

• lance was relieved to see that keith had texted back

• it only took him three days to gain the courage to send a simple "hi."

• now keith and lance will never look at call me maybe the same

• even when years passed as they're together

• the song playing always brings them back to that one moment that started it all during high-school

again, i'm not sure what this is. hopefully it's kind of entertaining?

— 🌙 moon anon

OK FUN FACT?? I ADORE HIGH SCHOOL AUS?????

Teenagers are just so dumb I love how easy it is for you to do spontaneous (read: iconic) things just because your friends encourage you to 😌👌👌👌

also ok ok I JUST REALLY LOVE THIS??

Pidge and Hunk devising crazy strategies for Lance bc they've been studying Keith's reactions to songs that play over the PA system/in their gym class (idk my school did both)

Pidge: waitwaitwait Hunk look- Keith's nodding his head to Party In The USA... I THINK HE LIKES POP MUSIC!

Hunk: GASP- Lance loves singing pop! *turns to Pidge* We can use this!!

and thus the garrison trio shenanigans ensued...

Flashforward to the scene you've described:

Shiro honked that horn to save Keith from embarrassing himself even more. That kid looked like a deer in headlights and he had to help...but that doesn't stop him from teasing Keith endlessly for making friends and wooing what seemed like a nice kid <3

In the car:

Shiro: Soo who's your boyfriend? He's pretty smooth if he managed to get you to freeze like that lol

Keith, flustered: asdSDFJHLK-SHUTUPYOUSAWNOTHING

Shiro, very casually: Ooooh yeah no. I totally didn't see you checking out his ass when he left-

Keith, a lil hysterical tbh: I WASN'T STARING AT HIS ASS

Shiro, smug af: But you admit you were staring. Exposed.

___

ALSO ALSO?? KLANCE JUST SUITS SO MANY SONGS???? Oh man it's no wonder I have like 3 drawings already that were inspired by songs 😩 also u lowkey have me thinking of an idea where keith sings to lance now bc I've drawn lance singing to keith asdhlkl THE POWER YOU HOLD OVER ME RN

@lesbianklance come look at this!!! >:OO

[certifiablecatlady]

Medical/Life Update

Sup duders so I haven't posted a ton of personal info here in awhile but the past 6 months have been wild. Starting in December 2021 I've had a fluctuating rash on my arms, legs, and trunk that at first I thought was an allergic reaction, hence my post about having the worst "hives" ever on Christmas. After an emergency room trip on New Years Eve and month of phone tag I finally got referred to a rheumatologist in February and diagnosed with Henoch-Schonlein Purpura (HSP) also known as IgA vasculitis. Which is an autoimmune disease more common in children but super rare in adults where the blood vessels in your skin and internal organs/joints become inflamed. Usually it goes away in a few months and leaves no lasting effects which is good.

Except now it's June and it hasn't gone away. In fact, at my last rheumatology appointment 2 weeks ago they said my inflammation markers in my blood have started going up again instead of down so we may need to move on to more intense treatment. For the past few months I've been taking a steroid (prednisone) and an immunosuppressant (mycophenolate) to hopefully counteract my dumb immune system, which has made my flare ups less intense than they were in Dec-Feb pre treatment. But even as they've increased the immunosuppressant my skin has not been totally clear in over six months and every time I so much as step outside my apartment, walk around too much, or wear tight clothing I have massive flare ups. The rash itself is not painful but with friction around my feet and thighs it starts to burn and itch which is no fun at all. And unfortunately having this disease for this long could be bad news for the rest of my organs, which thankfully so far have shown up fine in tests.

So basically at my last rheumatology appointment I was put on the max dose of the mycophenolate with the idea that if this doesn't work we will have to move on to different treatment. There are two options if this happens: a similar immunosuppressant called methotrexate that would basically work like the mycophenolate but maybe magically would do better, or a strong iv infusion called rituximab. Now I have been through my share of weird medical shit but the one thing that still terrifies me is an iv. One of the worst experiences of my life was being hospitalized for a week stuck to an iv in 2012 and the whole time it felt like my arm was being broken. I've always been afraid of needles and in fact my first blood draw at the rheumatologist in Feb I fainted and threw up so now I'm famous with the phlebotomists. So just hearing iv I started to panic a little.

Then the doctor went on to describe the procedure being similar to chemotherapy/biotherapy and included the fun fact of a small risk of deadly anaphylactic shock. I ended up having a full panic attack and sitting on the floor of the office next to an open window while my lovely boyfriend fanned me and got me to drink some water. The doctor kept apologizing for freaking me out but I was just apologizing back like "I have an anxiety disorder it's fine not your fault".

So yeah I go back in on July 12th to see how the max dose and potential last hurrah of my og immunosuppressant works out and meanwhile I am firmly camped in my apartment trying desperately to avoid any flare triggers. I have a spreadsheet now where I rate the rash on each area of my body cause ya girl loves data. My boyfriend Sam has been absolutely wonderful taking care of me throughout this, running urine samples back and forth to the hospital when they kept scheduling my appointments a month apart exactly in line with my period. I am so glad this happened after we moved in together rather than before so I don't have to do this alone or move back in with my parents. My family has tried to understand what's going on but I think only recently started seeing the severity. They've at least stopped trying to guilt me into coming over. Being immunocompromised during a pandemic wasn't enough for them I guess, but minimizing flares so I don't have to do hours of ivs worked. Now we wait.

[chalkrevelations]

SO. Word of Honor, Episode 10, and everyone is deep in their feelings … well, their feeling, which is misery.

First, due diligence, and I really mean it on this one: SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the entire show. Out of the car, for now, and come back later, if you want to watch the whole thing unspoiled.­­

Well, it’s the breakup episode, y’all. Everyone is wallowing in misery, and Our Couple is taking that out on themselves and in some cases (:cough:WKX:cough) ­on everybody around them. We open on sad-sack Wen Kexing digging sadly in the dirt with a sword, the bodies of the Four Sages of Anji laid out beside him as he gives a RIP speech about how you have to be careful when making friends, because they’ll turn out to be bad news, which is clearly yet another warning about himself, because I don’t think anyone in the mob who killed these aging hippies in the last ep was a friend (although I suppose it could be argued that WKX is talking about their friendship with Gao Chong getting them killed) and anyway, you have to understand that WKX is a demon under the skin, not even really human, you guys, and he’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Has he not made this clear by now? His sword breaks at this point, which probably ought to tell him he’s not going to be able to bury any of this mess. Then Zhou Zishu shows up and is understandably unhappy at the way his decision last ep to walk out on faith for this guy has gone completely pear-shaped, and he asks some rather pointed questions about whether four dead Sages of Anji is what WKX wanted and if he’s happy now – questions that sound, my dude, a little confrontational. I mean, I think you’re entitled, given the situation, but I’m just sayin’. WKX flings off ZZS’s hand and wants to know if “Leader Zhou” has only ever killed bad people, which is a hit that lands, and it hurts, just like it was supposed to, and this is definitely one of those nightmare scenarios where everyone just keeps digging themselves deeper. ZZS is all, FINE THEN, and leaves. Again. Because WKX is apparently a demon in human form who’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Including his zhiji. I love you with all of my heart, ZZS, but a little bit, you come off like you only showed up to twist the knife, my man. Anyway, ZZS stomps off to go mope at Yuefan Tower, the scene of his bad decision to trust this guy BEFORE finding out he sets up revenge murders for fun. We’re treated to a flashback sequence of some of ZZS’s Tian Chuang state-sanctioned violence, including a pile of bodies in a burned-out house with a little girl who reaches out to him and calls him “shushu” (which I think is a reference to something that actually happens in Qi Ye); killing that official dude and making Jing’an drink poison, from Ep 1; inserting the Seven Nails into Bi Changfeng - a whole bunch of bad shit that WKX has dug back up way more successfully with a few words than that grave he was trying to dig with his broken sword. ZZS sighs mournfully and unfairly beautifully (your FACE, my dude) over the fact that he thought he found his soulmate, but he was apparently WRONG, and meanwhile, we see Han Ying lurking worriedly and devotedly in the background.

Then, both of these morose motherfuckers proceed to drink themselves (even more) stupid over each other, WKX in a brothel and ZZS moping by himself downstairs at the (No Longer) Getting Lucky Inn, leaving poor Han Ying and A-Xiang to eventually deal with them. ZZS is literally falling over as he calls for more wine – you are a sloppy drunk, laopo, although I have to admit, you’ve worked your way through a lot of bottles, so I suppose it’s understandable – and WKX proceeds to drink his four ... five? ... four, I think, girls under the table and clearly has no intention of sleeping with them, because it might interfere with his waxing drunkenly and mournfully about finding a thing you thought you’d lost forever but not being able to keep it at the price of giving up your big revenge murder plan you’ve been working out since you were 8 years old. (Also because he’s gay af. I’m just sayin’.)

So, yeah, Han Ying and A-Xiang eventually have to deal with these two, and for my money, the single most important scene of the ep - thematically, at least - is the one we get between A-Xiang and WKX, where a couple of big things are going on. One of the themes I see again, running through this ep, is the separation between the human world and the world of “ghosts,” and how that line is policed, and how Wen Kexing tries to maintain it as a bright line, in order to maintain his own distance from Zhou Zishu and the world. Now that things have gone so spectacularly wrong with ZZS, he’s going to dig in on the “ghost” side of that line for all he’s worth – much harder than he was digging that grave for the Four Sages of Anji, given he breaks the sword and gives up halfway through on that one, but this one he’s determined to get all the way to the bedrock on. So yes, in this scene we get the theme made explicit again, of human-ghost separation - which will echo and rebound throughout the rest of the show, until we see its awful, gory truth made manifest when it turns out WKX is horrifically correct and A-Xiang is NOT, in fact, going to be allowed by “humankind” to leave Ghost Valley and walk up to the human world with her lover, while meanwhile, if WKX is going to get out of the valley, he’s not staying in the mortal world but is going to end up on the icy remote mountaintop. BUT ALSO, this may be the first time we really see the show put A-Xiang forward as a proxy for Wen Kexing. This is going to be an increasingly weighted Thing as we go on, of course, but what I didn’t remember on my first watch-through - even after I realized what they were doing with the A-Xiang/Cao Weining and Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu parallels further down the road – is that, in this first time we really see it, it’s not even about their respective love interests, it’s about their respective relationships with Chengling. I mean, clearly, clearly, when WKX is being a drunk asshole to A-Xiang about how she’s been too long in her human skin (and huh, interesting that, when we also have instances where fake skin disguises are literal), and DON’T EVER FORGET WHO YOU ARE, HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND GHOST VALLEY MASTER HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND, and who among them would ever pity you me you, he’s really talking about his recent breakup with ZZS, in which he got called a crazed psychopath just for setting up a few amusing revenge murders. But here’s the thing – what triggers the diatribe is A-Xiang saying she feels sorry for Chengling trapped in Yueyang Sect, in the course of nattering on about what’s up with Chengling, and what she and Chengling have been doing together, and how much Chengling misses WKX. Which is, A-Xiang tells WKX, a lot. After which WKX puffs himself up and proceeds to be a drunk asshole to her, because of course, he’s not worthy of having anyone care about him, they might think he’s human, or something, and then he’s only going to get hurt again when they find out he’s NOT. So, all that happens. We also find out in this conversation that Changing Ghost was responsible for the pile of heads; that A-Xiang was at the Funeral/Wedding Game and saw Deng Kuan become the last survivor and get set free in much better condition than he later showed up at Yueyang Sect, so what the hell’s happened to him in between; and that A-Xiang definitely thinks her Murder Dad master is crazy but isn’t afraid that he’ll end up killing her someday. I mean, let’s be clear, I don’t think she’s absolutely positive that he won’t go crazy and kill her – she’s just not afraid of it. Zhou Ye is fantastic here, because she has A-Xiang give WKX this gorgeous little smile that’s so simple yet just so filled with love and trust and faith and everything that must have kept his heart alive all those years, the one that she probably gave him even after he burned her mouth on congee that was too hot, and I end up clutching my chest because I think she’s killed me. And then in a horrible twist on what’s eventually coming down the pike, she tells him that she’d follow him even if he’s crazy, and that if he killed her, she’d even follow him in death, and GOD. MY HEART. Because we’re going to see that in fact, he’s going to almost follow her into death, and then he’s going to dream of her leaving him instead of actually staying with him after death, and the only thing keeping me together at this point is the idea that Nian’xiang will actually be A-Xiang reincarnated so that she can be with WKX and the rest of her family again.

Anyway, all of this is apparently a dress rehearsal for WKX, because he then gets himself dolled up in some luscious green robes and proceeds to go to Tragicomic Ghost’s mansion in order to terrorize the troops and spread the misery. He requests a report from all of his top ten nine eight devils; credits them with three Funeral Games (I guess we don’t get to see the other two), annihilating Danyang Sect, destroying Mirror Lake Sect, killing Mount Tai Sect’s leader (Ao Laizi), and leaving a pile of heads for Yueyang Sect to find. He’s doing his best Lunatic Wen bit, but come on, my friend, do they really deserve credit for ALL of that? Do they really? It sounds like you have your suspicions, as well, because you want to know who was responsible for the Mirror Lake massacre. Everyone looks around, pointedly not meeting his eyes, so, hmm, it must have been Long-Tongued Ghost, right? Right? (Who we last saw getting killed and getting his (Danyang) Glazed Armor took by Wen Kexing while pretending to be Hanged Ghost.) Changing Ghost, who’s supposedly Long-Tongued Ghost’s superior and who’s smart enough to sense the wind shifting, even if he’s not sure in which direction, hastily says that LTGhost doesn’t listen to him anymore. (Yeah, because he’s dead.) At this point, White Grim Reaper is dumb enough to draw attention to himself, and WKX chokes him out just ‘cause. ‘Cause he’s Lunatic Wen, and fuck you, that’s why. Both Tragicomic Ghost and Beauty Ghost look more Completely Done With This Bullshit than scared – in contrast to the men, who are shitting their pants - which is an early indication that their relationships with WKX are different than his relationships with the male Devils. WKX also makes some pointed comment about how oh dear, he’s killed someone, and they were already low on manpower, but as a chief of GHOSTS, that’s all he has to work with, isn’t that RIGHT, Changing Ghost – which sounds on the surface kind of like policing that line between ghosts and humans, but really seems more like he has his suspicions about exactly who Changing Ghost is actually working with, because while he may not be as smart as A-Xu, he’s not DUMB. Now, let’s all come up with a plan to fuck over the Five Lakes Alliance during the Hero’s Conference. Aaaaand … end scene (and ep).

Meanwhile, Han Ying is dealing with his poor, drunk dumbass charge, and we see ZZS wake up in some richly appointed rooms, in some strange bed, and he’s clearly thinking “Oh snap. What I do last night?” Also, feeling the hangover. Once he manages to get his boots on, he notices a shrine, complete with candles, and just about this point, Han Ying busts in like he’s WKX or something (although to be fair, it is his bedroom), and wants to know exactly wtf is wrong with ZZS, getting blackout drunk with his actual face hanging out like he doesn’t care who recognizes him? (I just have to take a moment here, and point out that ZZS, who went all in, in the last ep, and who will continue to be the more open one as this relationship goes on, is being berated here for not wearing a mask, for showing his real self, while the issue for both A-Xiang and WKX is going to continue to be keeping on a protective mask/skin, even though WKX accuses A-Xiang himself in this very ep of thinking the mask is real and not just a cover for her true face. Anyway.) Oh, and also, My Lord, how is your injury? DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TENDERLY CARE FOR YOU? I like this scene, because Han Ying’s actually kind of angry at ZZS, and a little bit, he shows it, and we get to see that he’s not spineless, even in the (blindingly beautiful) face of ZZS, he’s just devoted. And if that means keeping this dumbass safe from himself, well, Han Ying will try to do that, too, even if it’s enough to drive him to find religion, as we also find out in this scene, explaining the shrine. I suppose he needs all the help he can get. Anyway, ZZS tells him that he’s too mean to die just yet, although he doesn’t expect any blessings on his path, and Han Ying responds – and I think this is important, given ZZS’s decision last ep to spend the rest of his life living instead of dying – that “any day we live is a day gained.” (HAN YING. MY BELOVED.) ZZS pulls some Glazed Armor out of his robes to give to Han Ying, and they both realize that it looks exactly like two pieces Han Ying already has his hands on, gdi WKX. At this point, ZZS reiterates that he just wants Han Ying to lay low and stay safe, Han Ying reiterates his undying devotion, and ZZS has clearly had it with these kids and their starry-eyed devotion. He tries telling Han Yng again to just live a good life - as if Han Ying is at all wired that way – before making some dramatic pronouncement about expecting to have to deal with what’s coming to him in hell and sweeping out the door in the last we see of him this ep.

Let’s see, other things that happened:

Gao Chong, Zhao Jing and Shen Shen confer over their complete loss of face in the run-up to the Hero’s Conference; Shen Shen gets very offended and denies killing Ao Laizi, which is the rumor going around town; Gao Chong says the Ghost Valley isn’t responsible for Ao Laizi’s death (which they are) or for spreading the rhyme about the Glazed Armor (which they are); Zhao Jing says Five Lakes Alliance can’t get a reputation for forcing other sects to do things (when he can manipulate them into doing what he wants), and Shen Shen wants to know WHY THE HELL NOT (oh, Shen Shen) when the jianghu has always been, and I QUOTE, “a place where the strong pery on the weak,” so again, I have to kind of side with WKX on this one about the hive of scum and villainy. Or I would if you guys seemed capable of actually accomplishing anything.

Elsewhere in Yueyang Sect, it’s been Bullying Hour again for Chengling, and A-Xiang is furious when she finds out, threatening to break the legs of whoever’s responsible for smacking him around (she really is like the most delightful Chengxian love-child, I have to say). She also has some Wolong Nuts – crispy and delicious! – for him. Gao Xiaolian shows up with some treats, but Chengling doesn’t want her food, and also he doesn’t want to marry her, because he doesn’t want to be Gao Chong’s puppet, which is kind of new, because he said a couple of eps ago at the Five Lakes monument that he would abide by Gao Chong’s decisions. I guess now that he’s found out from A-Xiang that their Murder Dads are still around, he thinks there’s still a chance to run away with them. Gao Xiolian runs away, crying. Harsh, Chengling, but it does give him the chance to complain to A-Xiang that he’s effectively under house arrest, WHERE ARE OUR MURDER DADS TO SAVE ME?

Last but not least, there’s this incredible scene with Yu Loser Qiufeng, leader of Mount Hua Sect, in which one of the Mount Hua Virgins (tm WKX) comes complaining that everyone is looking down on them. Yu Qiufeng tells him that the entire jianghu is falling apart and to suck it up, and then another Virgin (tm WKX) shows up to say that some people from Mount Tai Sect are here to talk about Dead Ao Laizi, because the Five Lakes Alliance killed him omg. Yu Quifeng’s response is literally “Tell them I’m not here,” and when the disciple wants to know how he can possibly say that, Qiufeng’s response is literally “Say I went out. Say I’m sick. Say I’m dead.” (OMG, Zongzhu can’t see you right now, he’s dead!)

[gunterfan1992]

Interview with Half Shy (the songwriter of “Monster”)

For the last few months, I’ve been collecting information for a second edition of Exploring the Land of Ooo that will also cover the production of Distant Lands. This means that I’ve started to look into the new songs that we have been graced with this year, and this of course includes “Monster,” the beautiful track from the masterpiece that is “Obsidian”. And so I reached out to the song’s writer, Half Shy, who was kind enough to chat with me via email about the songwriting process!

(Photo courtesy of Half Shy)

In many ways, Half Shy is living the creative Adventure Time fan’s dream: She got asked by Adam Muto himself to write a song for “Obsidian” after he heard her music through Bandcamp! (I’ve dabbled in fan music before, and the fact that someone from the show might listen to it just blows my mind.) What an opportunity; I am so excited for her!

Since a second edition of my book won’t be coming out until after all the Distant Lands episodes air, I thought it would be best to share my Half Shy interview now. Read on for the fascinating behind the scenes story of how Half Shy and “Monster” came to be..

GunterFan: What is your origin story? How did you get involved in music, and how did the Half Shy project come to be?

Half Shy: I’ve been making music pretty quietly since I was in high school with a keyboard and guitar. I played one or two shows a year after college when I could find a friend or my brother to get up on stage with me, but I don’t really have that performer gene in me naturally. I get too much in my head and forget what the lyrics are to the song I wrote, or what the next chord is. Total brain freeze. So that whole experience is a bit of a mental drain. It’s something I think I’d like to dig into and figure out, but right now I’m really enjoying the time writing.

Even playing a song for my friends I still get pretty nervous. That’s where the name Half Shy comes from. I’ve always been interested in making things that by their nature draw a bit of a spotlight, but at the same time, I am just really quite nervous about the attention.

I recorded my first songs under my old name Hey V Kay in my bedroom and started putting them up online one at a time. When I got enough I thought about packaging it up into an album, but then got really distracted by learning how to fix up motorcycles and going to automotive tech school. When I eventually got back around to it I named the album Gut Wrenching.

After a few years I realized that I didn’t want the day-in-day-out life of a mechanic, I just wanted to know how to fix cars for myself and to have that knowledge in my back pocket. I got back into making music but grew frustrated at the process of writing and recording songs. I felt like I wasn’t able to capture the ideas I had in my head. Like trying to draw on your computer with a mouse. Doable, but it’s not going to come out like you’d hoped.

So these last couple of years I’ve focused more on learning the technical aspect of it, from the initial ideas and lyrics, to the recording and mixing. During that process I put out Bedroom Visionaries, and while writing I happened upon the name Half Shy in an old Thesaurus which felt instantly right. Learning all of that has been fun, I even went as far as to create my own book to solidify a daily writing routine (lyricworkbook.com). All that has been a bit of a tangent from actually making much music though. I should be getting my books in December from the press so I’m really looking forward to getting back into making more music instead of dealing with printing presses, setting up websites, and sourcing ribbon suppliers.

GF: What is the story behind "Monster"? How did the show get in contact with you?

HS: I keep a log of “Song Starters” with neat things I’ve heard in the world, and I would look through it every now and then and notice just how many came from Adventure Time. Eventually I thought well, I have to make a song about this show that just keeps breaking my heart. It was around the time I was nearly done with the first [Adventure Time-inspired] song “In My Element” that I got an email from Bandcamp saying “someone bought your album (Bedroom Visionaries).”

I get maybe one or two of these a month at most so I love to go in and say hi to the person and say thanks, be curious about who they are, [and] what they’re all about. Turns out it was Adam Muto, the executive producer of the show. (I asked and he has no idea how he happened upon my stuff. He guessed that I must have tagged something #adventuretime and he just happened to see it.) So I sent him an email saying, “Hey wow thanks for checking out my tunes. Also... holy crap you’ve made the best show I have ever seen in my life.” [I] played it real cool like. After finishing up writing my second [Adventure Time-inspired] song “Betty” I couldn’t help but fangirl real hard [and I sent him another message saying], “I’m sorry this is probably awkward, but I really love your show and I wrote these songs about it.” He was incredibly kind and shared them with his Twitter Universe, and a while after that I got a random email from him saying basically, “Hey, I’m working on this thing I can’t talk about, would you be interested?” I was like… well you know I’m pretty busy working at a sign shop so I’m gonna have to pass on this once in a lifetime opportunity (J/K. Obviously I fan-girl squealed and said yes immediately).

We chatted a bit about what the project was going to be and the direction. He mentioned there [would be] two Marceline songs in the special, [and he asked if I] would I be interested in giving the love song a try? Trying real hard to suppress my instant imposter syndrome I was like, “Yea, totally I’d be into giving that a shot!” So I read through the story and loved the idea of the dragon mirrored in Marceline, thinking through how they’ve both built up a protective shell, how she grew tough for a reason, but now she can open up and be vulnerable with PB.

From there I wrote the initial demo with the first two verses mostly intact and we went back and forth a few times editing it down into the final version. I recorded the final parts for the show in my little home studio in Seattle.

GS: When you were writing the song, what emotions, thoughts, or ideas were you channeling? Was there any sort of memory of event that you were trying to artistically "catch" or "recreate" with the lyrics or music?

HS: As far as channeling an emotion, generally I’d say just the experience of existing as a human. It can be so hard to open up and be vulnerable. I can remember that feeling even as a young kid—getting really excited about something and having someone completely trash it or look at you like, “Why are you so interested in that? It’s dumb.” [It causes us to grow] a little more weary to share ourselves because we know that hurt and embarrassment. The pain of being misunderstood is something I think a lot of us can relate to. Then having to decide whether to keep sharing those vulnerable parts of yourself or think, “They’re just not going to get it, I’m going to get hurt, so why bother?” and then stop putting yourself out there. You lose a lot with that thick armor though. You might feel protected, but you’re not feeling a whole lot of anything else other than the weight and chafing of it (I had a whole lot of armor-related metaphors that I didn't end up using.).

I struggle with this in songwriting too. I’m not the bolt-of-lightning type. There are pages and pages of cliches, total garbage, bad jokes, and cheesy lines that I have to get through in order to get to something that I am excited to put out there into the world: “Here I did this thing, I know it’s a little (this or that), but I made it... What do you think?” It’s hard to open yourself up to hearing the other end of that question.

I filled about 5 little pocket notebooks just thinking through the story, ideas, and trying to get this song right. I wanted it to feel familiar and honor the past songs of the show ([e.g.,] using the ukulele and referencing a few of the familiar chords from “I’m Just Your Problem”) but also be pretty open and vulnerable and different for [Marceline]. [I wanted to] show that she’s going through some tough emotions but also figuring herself out and growing.

GF: I feel like “Monster” is, at its core, an ode to the “Bubbline” ship. How do you feel about your song being intimately connected to one of the most famous LGBTQ+ relationships in animation? Do you have any general thoughts on Marcy and PB, Bubbline, etc.?

HS: Oh, I’m a total fan girl of Bubbline. The whole story of how Rebecca Sugar and Muto slowly morphed it into this deeper relationship is just great. As a part of the LGBTQ community myself it really means so much to see the representation of characters like yourself portrayed in an intelligent way. Growing up I was too young to fully understand what was going on but I saw Ellen getting cancelled, and [I] heard people around me saying they’d never watch her show again after she came out. That stuff sinks in as a kid and so to have these characters who are not only intelligent, but funny, complex, and unapologetically strong who also happen to be queer is really great. I love that the story here isn’t about their orientation, but that they’re people struggling with how to be open and vulnerable in a relationship.

It feels like something sci-fi and animated shows do so well—to show that ridiculousness of limiting who a person should and shouldn’t love. Marceline is a 1000+ year old half-demon/vampire and PB was born from the Mothergum of an apocalyptic radioactive world, but you’re going to get hung up on them loving each other? It sort of brings it into perspective in a really interesting way.

GF: Do you have any other thoughts about the experience that you'd like to share?

HS: Just how lucky, thankful, and honored I feel to be a part of my favorite show, writing a song for one of my favorite characters. It’s also incredibly cool how the people on the show are so willing to connect and collaborate with their fandom. Everyone [on the production crew] was very open and a real joy to work with.

I’d like to give a huge “Thank you!” to Half Shy for agreeing to participate in this interview; she really was quite amiable! If you’d like to hear more of her music, check out her website and her Bandcamp. You can also follow her on Instragram here and on Twitter here. And of course, here is Half Shy’s awesome video of “Monster”.

[internalsealpanic]

Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

mood board by: @knightfall05x​ (wuv you)

summary: You, Tim, and Kon try to bake. It ends well. 

A/n: Thanks to @littleredwing89​ and @multifandomgirl-us​ for proof reading. I was watching Kitchen Nightmares while writing this. I am surprised how fluffy this came out. You can blame my need for more poly and this piece by @symeona​. I have not shut up about this piece 50 years later (Hi Sym *waves*-Fish). I forgot to mention that reader is more or less gender neutral or I attempted.

warnings: Terrible cooking

masterlist

Kon yawns, scratching at his broad chest and running his hand through his tangle of curly black hair. He blinks one eye open successfully to the dim light flooding into the end of the hall likely coming in from the living room. The lights dance, glowing softly with faded color against the dark glossy wood of the floor. 

 Kon’s first sleep-addled thought is, Oh, Aliens. Ok, cool.

 It takes his brain a full minute to realize how much that doesn’t make sense. The apartment is dead silent, lacking the telltale whirring most spaceships give off when they’re hovering, the sounds of nervous fingers tapping against a stack of papers echoing in the mostly empty space. Kon strained his ears trying to focus on the other sounds flitting in the room. He can hear the steady calming beat of your heart come off rhythm, jumping a fraction of a beat faster. It wasn’t fast enough to say you were in danger. It was just fast enough to tell that you were extremely engaged in whatever was occupying your attention. Kon thinks it over. The last time he checked looking over papers- lab reports, especially- was the bane of your existence. He listens again. This time making out the voices coming from the TV. Kon wasn’t awake enough to understand what they were saying. 

 5:47 AM

 Kon groans trying his hardest not to laugh while he stares at his phone. You are an actual psychopath. Who wakes up at 5 AM? Villains that’s who. Did you even sleep? Why do you and Tim hate sleep so much? 

 Stepping into the living room as quietly as he can, he finds you huddled against the right side of the couch far away from the TV, your thick wool comforter draped over your head and shoulders making a fluffy tent. Strands of your messy bed head sticking out and swaying as you rock on your heels. Your stack of papers long since abandoned on the arm rest beside you. Kon can’t help but smile at how adorable you looked, still sleep rumpled and red-nosed from the cold. 

 Eyes glued to the TV, you pull up your knees to your chest revealing your fuzzy Red Robin socks. Kon frowns then makes a mental note to get you some Superboy socks later. You curl deeper into your comforter, easing and pressing into the armrest. All of your apprehension fading and relaxing as the rest of the world melted away. Kon smiles devilishly at your inattention. He tiptoes towards you which was entirely unnecessary because it didn’t matter that Kon was about as stealthy as a disco ball not when all of your attention was directed at the TV. 

 Kon launches himself at you too quickly for you to even react or comment or throw a pillow at him. You shriek as he lands on you, his muscular body squishing you into the couch. You wince hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. You’re not too worried about Tim waking up considering how tired he was. 

 “Morning, gorgeous.” Kon greets, winking and wrapping his arms around your waist. The audacity. You groan attempting to glare at him. He simply gives you a dopey smile. You have to blow out a raspberry to keep yourself from smiling back. You strain your lips into a flatline. The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes betray you though. The corner of Kon’s mouth twitches, those big baby blues shining even in the dim light. He knows he’s won you over. 

 You’re too petty and sleep-deprived to give in. You roll your eyes at him, lips still wobbling and tingling from the effort of maintaining your unimpressed frown. Still, without resistance,  you shift the comforter and refold yourself to accommodate his intrusive form. Large arms wrap around your waist tighter as he lays his head in your stomach. How he finds this position comfortable for his neck is beyond you but you do appreciate the warmth. Kon’s smile widens as he looks up at you. It looks positively smug. Your nose scrunches up bracing for whatever Kon is about to say. 

 “Aw, baaabe, it looks good on you~” You look down at the oversized Superboy hoodie you’re wearing which was two times bigger than it needed to be as was standard of your hoodies.  You mutter a curse. Kon had been pestering you to wear it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you had a soft spot for the Impulse hoodie Bart got you a few years ago which meant it was your got-to-hoodie despite the fact that it was fraying.  It was in the wash so you decided to give this one a try and honestly, it is really fucking comfy and more importantly warm.  You huff at him, feeling your cheeks color. You glare at him, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. You make the executive decision to ignore him. 

 This decision does not last long. 

 About two minutes into your silent treatment, Kon whines and pouts weaponizing those baby blues. “Aw come on, gorgeous, you can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nuzzles into your stomach tickling your drawing a smile out of you. He grins at you and finally, you let yourself smile back fully. “Asshole.” You grumble.  He knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute and calling you ‘gorgeous’. That is just plain cheating. Still, you relent. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, running your hand gently through his dark hair allowing your fingers to tangle in his curls. The arms around you tighten a little pulling you closer to him. 

 Kon doesn’t need a reminder of how absolutely adorable you are but it is very much appreciated. Kon loves looking at you as the soft glowing colors flash across your face highlighting your features and softening them. In the dim light of the room and under the blankets, you press closer to him all the sharp edges of Gotham's alleys stripped away leaving you sleepy-eyed and very huggable. Between you and Tim, you were the one people pointed to when they thought Gothamite but that was the fun of it. He and Tim, they were the only ones who got to see this softer you. The you that you let get enraptured by hobbies and dumb little things. Kon held you close, relishing your presence. This was the version of you they got to keep for themselves and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 -------

 Tim shifts feeling either side of him vacant.  Tim rolls over, arms searching for either you or Kon as his mind catches up. The warm sunlight brushes over his skin as he rolls over once again, stirring him from his sleep. Tim blinks, eyes adjusting to the morning light. 

 9: 10 AM

 He groans, shifting up and burying his head under the pillows hoping to once again fall asleep. 

 “Oh no no no no!”

 “Shush! Don’t jinx it!”

 Tim’s eye cracks open.  He lifts his head a bit tilting it to find the bedroom door open, your voices filtering in like dust in a sunbeam, pleasant but ultimately not helpful. 

 “I can’t jinx a pre-recorded show, genius!” 

 Tim sighs. Sleep was, inevitably, lost at this point. Tim debates on whether to keep himself under the covers and finally be able to hog the thick blankets. Or he could, possibly, investigate the commotion happening in your shared living room and risk freezing. Sadly, he chose the latter. 

 Blearily, Tim searches the room for a shirt only to find one of Kon’s discarded on the floor. Well, it’s not the first time he’s borrowed one of Kon’s shirts. 

 Tim wasn’t surprised to find you out of bed. After all, the idea of sitting still ate you alive. You were always, always the happiest when you were in motion when your hands were working to make something like some part of you was constantly vying for the chance to be something instead of just being. Tim completely understood the feeling. 

 Kon had once accused you of being a workaholic when in truth at the moment you had been avoiding work by doing one of your side projects. He had also accused both of you of being sleep allergic which is probably true but at least, Tim’s drink (read: poison) of choice was tea and not a cocktail of monster energy drinks and misery. 

 It was odd to find Kon out of bed though.  Kon could laze around in bed for days if you let him, so his being up was worth investigating if only to make sure the apartment didn’t burn down.  

 “Look what you did!”

 “It’s prerecorded, jackass!”

 “You cursed him and gave him a soggy bottom”

 Tim can tell just how long you’ve been glued to the T.V. based on the way your vowels slant to mimic that of the hosts. Tim’s slightly chapped lips curl as he shakes his head at the way you and Kon cock your heads towards the T.V., attention completely captured by what seems to be a cooking show. You held your breaths, waiting for the judge to say something. Kon shifts up, leaning his head against your shoulder.  Your limbs were tangled loosely against each other. It was a rare, lazy sort of affection that never failed to make Tim smile. 

 “Ok, no. That’s just mean.” You huff into Kon’s hair, looking absolutely petulant and cute. Tim works to stop an ‘aaaaawww’ rising from the back of his throat lest you throw a pillow at his head. 

 “Babe, it’s Paul Hollywood. What were you expecting?”

 “Human decency. She worked hard on that.” You whine, genuinely looking upset. 

 Seeing, your reaction Kon relents burrowing himself closer to you for comfort. “True.”

 Tim turned his attention to the T.V.. What he found made his brow shoot up. 

 “Great British Bake Off?” Tim asks, sliding into your left side and placing his head on your shoulder. There is a reason you guys bought an L-shaped couch. Said reason was named Conner Kent who liked laying on top of people. Those people being either of you. Tim snuggles into your side, earning him a kiss on his nose.   His nose scrunches feeling itchy. He lets out a small sneeze into the back of his hand. You blanch at him while Kon snorts, throwing him a box of tissues from the coffee table. 

 “Mornin’, Space Case.” You mumble giving him another kiss, this time on the corner of his lip. Tim blushes,  his face brighter than the sunlight outside your window. Tim is, sadly, incurably adorable.  

 Kon smiles at both of you smugly for what neither of you has any clue. Not until you see what Tim is wearing and not until Tim sees what you’re wearing. You groan and Tim blows out a  breath through his nose while Kon presses his positively glowing smile into your hoodie. He’s not going to shut up about this anytime soon or ever. 

 “Do you two even know anything about baking?” Tim asks, crossing his arms over his chest and smoothly changing the subject. 

 You and Kon share a look. 

 “Nope”

 “Yes”

 “Microwaves and watching this show doesn’t count.”

 “Ooook, fine. I don’t. Buuuuuut considering none of us can-”

 “I can cook.” Tim defends, clipped. You roll your eyes dramatically. Kon smirks, also doubtful. You flicker your eyes to Kon to meet his and with the brief contact, you know you’re on the same page. 

 “Microwaves don’t count, Tim.” Kon shoots back, pulling himself off you so he can show Tim the full extent of his Cheshire smile. You can see Tim drawing his hackles up, so both of you, being the little shits you are, continue to goad him. 

 “You can cook in theory,” You drawl, letting the challenge embed itself into the syllables. Tim cuts you a look. You simply look at him innocently. Tim  knows  that you’re baiting him. He definitely knows this and yet…

 “Fine!”

 “Fine?” 

 “Fine. We’ll even make something from the show!”

 “Even chocolate eclairs?” Kon says a little too eagerly. You were just gonna say meringues but chocolate eclairs sound fantastic.

 Tim throws up his arms and exasperates. “Sure! Why not?”

 You and Kon share a dopey smile, smug and preening as you look at him. Tim groans, placing his head in his hands. He knew this would happen. He knew. You and Kon high five and make a little “yeah!” noise in celebration.

 This will not end well.   

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You twitch your lips staring down at Tim’s phone, deleting and retyping the message for the third time. You weren’t  sure  how to explain this without having Jason falling to the floor laughing. Your eyes stung from the smoke so you decided to just send him your third try. 

 Tim: Hey Jason, theoretically, say your oven caught on fire like via laser beam or something, do you just pour water on it?

 You wait a few minutes, watching the three dots indicating he was typing only for him to stop typing without replying. You make a small noise, which was thankfully lost to the bickering behind you when Jason’s phone number flashed on the screen. You’re always nervous about talking to Tim’s family. Tim had once assured you that you were overthinking it but still. To be fair, it was easier than dealing with Kon’s. Actually, no. No, it wasn’t. Both were intimidating but in very different ways. You do have to say that Jason, scary as he was, was easier to approach than say Bruce. 

 “Baby bird,” Jason says, the edge of a wheeze gripping his throat. Clearly, having just recovered from laughing his guts out. He breathes, hand slamming against what you suspect was either a kitchen countertop or a workbench or both knowing Jason. “Ok, ok, I’m good-” He clears his throat. “Kay, tell me what happened.”

 You flick your eyes toward the fire and your boys who were more or less still bickering, their voices tangling with the crackling of the flames. You’re mildly surprised that neither of them is on fire but you’re not holding your breath. They’ll probably be somehow combust in the next five minutes. You love them but they’re disasters.

 “We were trying to bake- shut up-” Jason does not snort any quieter. “And well, Tim thought-”

 “It was Kon’s idea!”

 “You let me!” Kon defends sounding utterly betrayed. 

 You groan and Jason snickers.  “What do we do?”

 “Have you tried apologizing to it?”

 “Jason, I’m being serious.”

 “So am I. Now, apologize.” You sigh exasperatedly. Waynes are assholes. 

 Tim raises a brow at you and you give him a shrug not really knowing what to tell him. “Apparently, we need to apologize to the oven.” You deadpan, immediately regretting even relaying it. How have you never decked Jason? It wasn’t fear. After all, you’ve decked Batman. Ok, in your defense lack thereof, that one was by accident or moreover reflexive. 

 “Hey Kon”

 “Both of you have to apologize too!”

 “First of all, I was in the bathroom getting towels when you two chucklefucks decided to use laser vision to preheat the oven.”

 You hear Jason fall out of his chair. Distantly, you hear someone calling Jason an idiot but you weren’t too familiar with the voice. You instantly thank yourself for not turning on the camera considering what state you three were in. Kon was covered in chocolate, your hair-as well as your poor phone- was caked in batter, and Tim? Tim was covered in everything but mostly flour which keeps making his nose twitch like a rabbit. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kon’s already taken a few pictures. You yourself have taken a few.  

 “Ok but seriously what do we do?”

 You hear some rustling and a chair squeaking back into place. 

 “No…”

 “First off, did you close the oven?” Your eyes flicker to them. Placing Tim’s phone between your shoulder and ear, you mime the advice. Tim frowns skeptical but Kon kicks the oven closed anyway. 

“Ok, it’s closed now. Should we put water in it?”

 “NO. Have you never put out a kitchen fire before? How do you three eat?”

 “We live in the middle of downtown, what do you think?”

 Jason sighs disbelieving and finally sounding appropriately exasperated. You could see him running his hand over his face.  “Who let you three live together?” This made your lips twitch up. “I dunno. Kon and I just started mooching on Tim and then suddenly we each got a key to the apartment.” It was an oversimplification of events but there was a fire and you had to get at least one joke in. 

 “Do your neighbors have- Wait, don’t you have a Kryptonian clone with freeze breath?”

 You blink and slap your palm against your forehead. The other two seemed to get what you had just remembered and act appropriately with Tim looking defeated and Kon finding the situation hilarious. 

 “Thanks, Jay.” You mutter wanting the Earth to swallow you whole. Esme, your chubby rat, squeaked nuzzling against you as she wormed her way out of your hoodie. She may or may not have been the primary reason for the size of your hoodies. She smiles at the phone, wide-eyed and happy as if she could see Jason. You hear a soft laugh coming from Jason’s end. 

 “Is that Esme?” Your brow ticks up not quite sure how to answer. “Uh yeah.” You answer dumbly, giving Esme little scritches that she leaned into happily making all her little happy noises.     

 “Give her a cuddle for me.” You give Esme a kiss on her nose and she snuggles in reciprocation. Kon pouts face still full of chocolate, “Where’s mine?”

 “You’ll get one once our apartment isn’t about to burn down.”   

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Fresh out of the shower, you plop down next to Tim letting your wet hair flop onto his face and his fuzzy Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Tim huffs at you taking another bite out of the hot fresh-ly ordered stuffed crust pizza. The cheese was still gooey and molten. It made your stomach rumble like nobody’s business. You whine childishly trying to get Tim to hand you one. He looks at you, mouthful of pizza, and grabs one only to hand it to Kon. You gasp at him. You stretch your legs over their laps in protest only to retract them immediately after Kon pokes at your feet a couple of times tickling you. 

 You hide behind Tim, glaring at Kon and sticking your tongue out. Tim, the traitor, moves out of the way letting Kon’s long arms capture you. You shriek almost sounding like Esme as he pulls you in sitting you in his lap. You sigh in defeat as Kon places his chin on your head. You don’t even want to see the triumphant smirks on both their faces. 

 You grab a slice and through the mouthful of cheese and grease, you murmur “We really need to learn how to cook.” Tim hums in agreement, leaning against Kon, aka the cuddliest heater in the world. You lean back into Kon as another signature bake is brought up to the judges. You all watch with bated breaths as you wait for the results. 

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You marvel at the fresh ingredients laid before you and the posh man standing in your kitchen rolling up his sleeves. 

 “Hey, Duckie, are we in trouble?” Kon whispers from behind you. He’s got your back, he said. 

 “Kind of?” Tim bleats, his voice a little high. 

 You snort raising an eyebrow at him hiding your smile behind your hand. “Timmy, what does kind of mean?” 

 “I can hear you.” Alfred deadpans. You and Kon stiffen.  You’re pretty sure even Tim straightens up, probably out of habit. 

 “Do any of you know how to cook?” Alfred asks in the primmest sounding accent you’ve ever heard. 

 “Nope, we live downtown for a reason.” You snark reflexively. Tim glares at you and hisses silently.  You shrink and mutter an apology which Alfred takes graciously.

 “I am assuming you don’t then. Well, it’s lucky that I have a free afternoon.”

 Tim eyes him suspiciously. “What happened to B?”

 “Your father can take care of himself.”

 “You sure?”

You think you see Alfred smile at that. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

tag list:  @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes ,  @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

[moonstruckbucky]

Say Love [one shot]

Summary: You and Bucky are at a stand-still in your relationship, all because neither of you can say three little words.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Idiots in love, a smidge of angst, the rest is fluff.

Notes: So this is a fun fic, but it’s also a very real fic. I know I’ve had that should-I-shouldn’t-I when it comes to saying the L word in a relationship, so this is for anyone that’s had that struggle. Enjoy & let me know what you think! x

P.S. - it’s also a birthday present to @captain-kelli aka MY WIFE 💕

It’s palpable, the tension. A smothering, suffocating heavy cloud stretching between the two of you, and you almost wonder how you got here, to this hurdle in your relationship.

It builds like an avalanche - a tiny, harmless snowball that’s picked up speed as it rolls, rolls, rolls, until it’s so big you can’t be in the same room as him without feeling like you’re walking on eggshells.

Even now, on a night meant for the two of you, you feel distanced from him - despite sitting beside each other on the couch. You’re pressed up against his side, It’s a Wonderful Life playing on the screen - a favorite of Bucky’s. It’s supposed to be a bonding time for you, but you’ve never felt so far away from him.

His arm is around you, but it’s stiff, and where his fingers would normally dance across your skin, raise goosebumps in their wake, now they’re still, limp. Careless.

And despite the movie being a favorite, he looks utterly bored when you peek up at him from under your lashes. Eyes vacant, fingers of his vibranium hand holding up his head, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

You wonder if he feels it too, this mountain that’s suddenly erected between you.

You’ve been dating eight months - is he bored with you already? Disinterested? “Just not feeling it anymore”? Is he too afraid of hurting you, and it’s why he hasn’t said anything yet? Is he waiting for you to get fed up and leave?

Because you won’t, you can’t. Despite this emotional gap between you, you feel a connection to him you haven’t felt before. He’s level-headed where you can be chaotic - being an Avenger is probably to thank for that - and he’s soft spoken despite his large, often gruff exterior.

He’s a perfect counterbalance to who you are - how could you not fall in love with him almost as soon as you met him?

Part of you believes that if Bucky didn’t want to be with you, he wouldn’t. He’s sure of himself, thanks to the hard work he’s done for himself since being officially recruited as an Avenger. He’d told you a little of how difficult it had been - in the 30s and 40s, people didn’t openly talk about their struggles, least of all with a psychologist; they just lived with them. 

It only made you fall for him even harder, for the sheer strength he has and the determination to come to grips with what’s happened to him.

But it seems those feelings are one-sided, and the revelation sits like lead in your stomach. With pressure building behind your eyes, you fake a yawn.

“I think I should go,” you mutter, thankful that your voice doesn’t crack. Bucky turns his eyes to you, wide and - is that disappointment?

“Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll call you a cab?”

You stand up with a shake of your head. “Not necessary, I’ll get an Uber on my way down.”

He walks you to the elevator, hands in his pockets and feeling awkward. The kiss you share is quick, chaste, and stiff, much like the rest of your evening tonight. When you turn your back to him to enter the elevator, your chin wobbles.

Bucky stands in the hallway for a while after you’ve gone, his thoughts running away from him. He can’t be the only one between you who felt that distance, could he?

Have you changed your mind about him? Realized the former Winter Soldier isn’t who you want to give your heart to? Perhaps all the atrocities he’s committed are truly too much for you to handle.

He couldn’t blame you if they were and yet... You own his entire being, body and soul. If you were to leave him, a large part of him would go with you, a piece he isn’t sure he’d be able to get back. 

He knows you noticed his demeanor tonight, the way he hid behind himself in an effort of self-preservation. He nearly made himself bleed from biting his tongue so hard to keep three words he didn’t think he’d ever say from slipping out. He didn’t want to scare you, to make you run off,

but it seems he managed to do that anyways.

Bucky leans forward, bonks his head on the elevator once, twice, three times before a door opening behind him makes him pause.

“Are you done brooding yet?”

Bucky’s shoulders drop, in no mood for Sam’s ribbing. The man teases out of love and respect - it’s just how their relationship is - but tonight, he can’t bring himself to return the dig. He turns away from the elevator, shoulders up to his ears and hands still in his pockets.

Sam’s face changes when he takes in Bucky’s posture, and he sighs, leaning up against the frame of his door.

“What’s up, Tin Man?” he prods gently. 

Bucky’s eyes find a place just over Sam’s shoulder, torn between opening up to Sam about the turn his relationship has taken and remaining silent, attempt to sort through it himself.

A helpless look at Sam, and the dark-skinned man opens the door wider, turning to the side to allow Bucky entrance.

“Talk to me, man. You look like someone kicked your dog.”

Sam offers Bucky a seat on his couch, an expensive, black leather that feels as cushy as a cloud. The man leans back, crosses his arms over his chest. The black metal of his arm catches the low lighting in Sam’s room, turns the gold bronze.

“I think she’s going to break up with me,” he starts, and before he knows it he’s spilling all of his insecurities to Sam. The other man listens patiently, cocking his head curiously at some parts and pursing his lips for others.

Bucky half-expects the man to jab at him - joke about how she finally realized what a mess he is - but to his surprise (and relief; he has enough self-hatred for both of them), Sam nods sagely and looks almost empathetic. It would throw Bucky for a loop, if he and Sam haven’t come to some middle ground.

Steve would be so proud of them.

“Then she’s not worth it, Buck,” comes Sam’s response almost immediately after Bucky’s finished. The brunet’s eyes go wide. “If she can’t handle you as you are, if that’s too much for her, then it isn’t worth it. I like her, man, but I like you a lot better, and you deserve somebody who’s going to take your baggage, embrace it, accept it, and help make you better for it. And you shouldn’t have to settle for anything less.”

Bucky wants to argue, say that you are absolutely worth it, but the words get stuck in his throat. He knows Sam is right, acknowledges that yes, he has more baggage than most, but also that he does deserve someone who’ll accept him regardless of it.

But haven’t you? Eight months in and Bucky had been sure you’d accepted him for who he had been, not just who he is now. But perhaps you’d changed your mind. Perhaps you’d thought long and hard over it and realized a broken soldier wasn’t who you wanted at all.

He couldn’t blame you, but it still hurts to think about.

“I think you need to talk to her,” Sam continues, watching the emotions play out over Bucky’s face - shock, sadness, realization, and finally, utter heartbreak. Sam feels no pleasure whatsoever in telling Bucky this, but he’s never one to beat around the bush. His years as a VA counselor wouldn’t let him.

“Talk to her, and find out where her head’s at. It’s the only way you’re going to know.”

You don’t talk to Bucky for two weeks. After leaving the Avengers compound, you thought it best to distance yourself, prepare your heart for the eventuality that Bucky would break it off. But it’s even worse that he doesn’t contact you at all, and you begin to resent it.

Bitterness ekes into everything you say and do, your very being so clouded by resentment you’re not even sure who you are anymore. You don’t recognize yourself or the cynicism your attitude seems to have adopted. 

You hate it.

In a whirlwind of anger, resentment, and self-loathing, you drive to the compound. Flash the card Bucky had given you for access whenever he didn’t come pick you up himself. The gate rolls open, and your heart pounds with the notion that this might be the last time you'll ever see it.

You take the elevator up to Bucky’s floor, hands twisting together as you sort through every thought you’ve had in the past two weeks. Doing so reignites your anger, puts a scowl on your face that could curdle milk.

Bucky’s surprised to see you - even more so to see that look on your face - when he opens his door after you’ve slammed your fist against it.

“What the fuck is going on, Bucky?” you demand, and he winces, steps aside and waves you in so that the two of you don’t draw attention.

His shoulders hunch, hands sliding into his pockets - a clear sign that he’s feeling out of his element and is trying to make himself very, very small. In the space of his bedroom, your anger cools a little, fond memories of time spent in the space taking you over.

“Are we over?” you ask, outright, and Bucky’s head snaps up in alarm. “I mean, did I miss any hints you might’ve been dropping? Am I just making a fool of myself by being here, trying to fix this?”

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, rendered speechless and dumb by your questioning. It isn’t what he’d been expecting, and it’s caught him off guard.

“I- what?” He shakes his head as your eyes turn sad and manages to connect his brain to his mouth. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”

Eyes going steely, you straighten your shoulders. “Well, considering you acted like you’d rather have been anywhere else but with me the last time we saw each other, paired with the fact I haven’t heard from you in two weeks? What am I supposed to think?”

He laughs shortly, incredulous, until your eyes flare up in anger again, and he reins it in, but only just. He just can’t believe what he’s hearing from you, how all this time he thought you were bored of him - or scared. Either way, the relief warming his chest keeps the smile on his face.

Your posture is rigid and you move to take a step back as he closes the distance, but his arms wrap around you and tug you into his chest. The kiss he lays on you is firm but warm, an outpouring of emotion that slowly destroys the wall you’ve erected just to face him.

His hands are warm, even the metal appendage, where he grasps your face to keep you close to him. He sighs when your arms wrap around his waist, hands gliding up to his shoulders to grasp his shirt, and he swallows the little whimper you let loose. 

Until he tastes the salt on your lips and he pulls away.

Your eyes are glassy, tears leaking from the corners to slide glistening tracks down your cheeks. His thumbs brush them away as he smiles softly.

“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he coos. He kisses you again before looking you in the eye. He wants to make sure you know he means every word. “I’m sorry I was a little emotionally constipated. I- I felt it, too, that weird air the last time you were here, and I thought you - I thought you had changed your mind about me, about us, and that you were just too shy to say anything. So I gave you your space even though it nearly killed me to do it. I thought it was what you wanted, but clearly I was wrong.”

Bottom lip trembling, you sniffle and wipe your nose on your sleeve. “No, I... I could have called. I know you felt a little off that night, too. I was just. I didn’t know how much I could push, if you even wanted that conversation at all. I guess I just thought it was your way of saying you were done with me.”

He chuckles, deep and reverberating, and he shakes his head. “Never gonna happen. I love you too much.”

He enjoys the change on your face - the surprise and then the utter elation - and he grins like the cat that ate the canary.

“You what?”

Bucky isn’t sure why he’d been so scared to say it before, not when you’re looking at him like he’s the center of your universe. 

“I love you,” he repeats, punctuating it with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “And I should’ve said it sooner, especially if you were having doubts.”

He’s entranced by the way you chew your lip thoughtfully, shrug a shoulder shyly. “I could’ve said it, too. I love you, Bucky.”

The smile that breaks upon his face is blinding, radiant. This man was born to smile like this all the time. And he’s mine, you think. He’s all mine.

You giggle, tuck your face into his neck as you shake your head. Still grinning, he holds you tight, chuckles in kind when you say, “We’re idiots.”

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “But idiots in love.”