#he did appear on a cereal box in the movie

[s10127470]

The Best Thing About The Garfield Movie

So yeah, i just watched The Garfield Movie this past Friday night.

And all in honesty (and you're all probably gonna hate me for this).....I actually really like this film.

The story is solid (but I'll touch on that a little more when I get there).

The animation is really great. I'm always down for CGI animation actually being allowed to feel animated and this is the best the Garfield characters have looked in 3D.

It's basically night and day when you compare it to The Garfield Show and that CGI trilogy from the late 2000s.

Most of the characters are pretty solid and likeable.

My favorites were definitely Odie and Otto.

And the voice acting was actually really good all around.

Yes....even Chris Pratt as Garfield himself.

The movie's not perfect though.

A little bit of the humor can fall flat at times.

The villain is kind of weak despite being a classic, over-the-top villain.

Which is weird given the director's track record when it comes to villains.

And while Jon was fun to watch, he sadly wasn't around for much of the movie.

But all-in-all, I think this movie is a really good time and I would definitely recommend it for anyone who's a fan of Garfield.

However, if you've seen any of the reception towards the movie (largely from the critics), it hasn't been talked about in a very positive light.

With the biggest criticism being that the movie doesn't feel like Garfield.

Which to that I have to say....

BALDERDASH!

And I feel like the critics saying this are only familiar with the comics strips and not really anything else with the orange cat.

While yes, the movie doesn't quite feel like the comic strips, it does harken more to the adaptations, specifically the ones from his golden age during the 1980s.

The major criticism towards this movie is that it doesn't feel like Garfield, especially with the whole heist plot.

And while that may be the case when using the comics as a basis, but when looking at the adaptations, this actually isn't all that far off from what Garfield usually gets up to.

He's hanged with a tribe of tropical island natives inspired by 50s American culture while having to stop an erupting volcano.

He's had to escape a crew of ghostly pirates on Halloween night.

He's gone to Hollywood.

Yeah, Garfield has been going on exciting and wild adventures for a LONG time.

Hell, look at The Garfield Show.

The fourth season had several story arcs!

These included the likes of Garfield going to a school for witches, having to stop an army of alien robots from invading Earth, and going on an African safari and trying to save a pair of rare white lions from scheming poachers.

Also, that last arc I just mentioned was responsible for introducing us to the man....the myth....the legend himself....

This criticism has also been leveled towards the character of Garfield himself.

And I honestly feel like a lot of critics don't quite get the character of Garfield.

While yes, he's lazy, cynical, sarcastic, gluttonous and mocks just about everyone around him.

But that's not all his character is.

I can't believe I'm actually using him, but The Nostalgia Critic during his review of Garfield & Friends gave what honestly may be the best description of Garfield as a character.

That being while Garfield may enjoy being a lazy pessimistic, that's not what he's really like.

Although he's described as being lazy, Garfield is shown to be surprisingly more playful and energetic than you would think.

And on top of that, he'll usually go out of way to do stuff like creating huge ass sandwiches to eat for himself or think of unique and creative ways to mess with Odie, Jon and Nermal.

And despite the fact that he mocks damn near everyone around him (especially those close to him), he'll actually go out of his way to save them if they're in danger.

Basically, the best way to describe Garfield is that he's a character who ironically works hard to be lazy.

He won't exercise, but he'll dance and play.

He may be lazy, but he'll actually go the extra mile for something he wants.

He mocks people, but knows if they weren't there, life would be pretty boring for him.

And this part allows me to segway into what I think is the best part of The Garfield Movie: it's heart.

Yeah, The Garfield Movie has legitimately heartfelt moments where the characters get to reflect on their emotions towards those close to them.

Like Otto and his unwavering love for his Ethel and more specifically, Garfield and his estranged relationship with his father Vic.

Yes, I am a sucker for stuff like these.

Probably because I just appreciate just how sincere they come off as, and I appreciate them more because they're usually not ruined for a sake of mediocre joke.

But anyway, these moments really do favors the characters, especially Garfield himself.

One thing I really appreciate about his adaptations is how they make Garfield a little more multifaceted.

While he does still have his trademark traits and quirks, he's allowed to show other emotions as well.

He can be happy, sad, excitable, afraid, downtrodden, caring, angry.

Garfield is able to show that he isn't just lazy and cynical.

And although it was only shown in the beginning montage, I do appreciate that movie does show that Garfield does legitimately care for Jon and Odie, which is something that you rarely see in the comics and even a good chunk of the adaptations.

Once again, it kinda harkens back to the 80s adaptations, specifically the series of specials made between 1982 and 1991.

I guess to give you guys some examples.

In Garfield in the Rough, when the trio find themselves attacked by the panther that escaped from the local zoo, Garfield took shelter up in a tree while Odie and Jon were forced to take cover in the car. But that only got them so far as the panther was able to break the driver-side window. And when Garfield noticed this, he literally jumps from the tree, onto the panther's back, and proceeds to claw and scratch the big cat in a rage!

Yeah, Garfield literally fought a feral big cat for the safety of his owner and dog!

That takes fucking courage man!

Or how about in Here Comes Garfield, where Odie gets sent to the pound. And while Garfield was happy about that, he realized just how empty and boring life would be with Odie. And so, he decides to go rescue him, especially more so after finding out Odie was scheduled to get FUCKING EUTHANIZED!

Oh yeah! There was a Garfield adaptation where Odie almost got put down!

You realize how insane that sounds, right?

And despite his best attempts, Garfield ends up getting locked up with Odie.

And in the approaching hours to his demise, Garfield reminisces on the good times he's had with Odie (accompanied by an admittedly sad song).

And when it's finally time and Odie gets dragged off to meet his maker, Garfield actually starts shedding tears.

And finally there's Garfield On the Town, where Garfield gets lost in the big city. And during his journey, he stumbled upon his childhood home (an Italian restaurant that's now abandoned) and more importantly, was reunited with his estranged mother, who he hadn't seen since he was a kitten.

And during this special, we see a much more caring and gentler side of Garfield.

So yeah, that's all I have to see for all this.

Think I The Garfield Movie is pretty solid film overall and I can definitely tell that the people behind it really cared about Garfield and truly understood what makes him such a lovable character.

Unfortunately, I believe this film does have the issue of being obviously more geared towards the fans.

Which is not a bad thing.

But if the reception towards The Super Mario Bros. Movie taught anything, not everybody's gonna appreciate that.

But in all-in-all, I'm kinda glad this movie exists and I wouldn't mind rewatching every once in a while.

And I'm more glad that Mark Dindal has finally returned to directing animated films after not doing so in almost 20 years.

And while it may not be a good as Cats Don't Dance and especially the godsend that is The Emperor's New Groove, for a grand return to animated directing, this ain't half bad.

And even if you don't like this film, I think we can all agree on that it's leagues better than the last film Dindal was unfortunate enough to direct.

[ash5monster01]

Lessons of You Part 4

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression, future smut, broken reader, 18+

Summary: Blake Parker was used to running. When life got hard, she’d run. The idea of sticking around to end up broken was scarier then she’d like to admit. So she hid away, cut all ties, and lived contently on her own. She was done running because no one could find her there. That is until a Navy Pilot runs into her life, and she learns allowing yourself to love can be scary, but hiding from it can be even worse.

word count: 2,350

Intro, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Final

Masterlist

Blake hadn’t intended to ignore Bradley. That night that they kissed, they took a break to eat pizza, start the movie, and end up making out on the couch like teenagers all over again. Every part of Blake yelled at her to let him stay the night but she didn’t want to move too fast. Letting people in wasn’t something she could just do, she had to build up to it. So Bradley left with a dopey grin and a few purple marks on his neck, completely forgetting to ask for her number. Blake figured he’d stop by on his morning run yet he never seemed to go by. So she figured he had gotten what he wanted and left. No use texting him now.

This was exactly why she didn’t let people in. True intentions are never easy to see, and most of the time they end up hurting you. So better off to be alone, and grocery shop for one person. It was cheaper that way anyway. Who needs to know someone’s favorite kind of cereal when all you have to do is buy your own? So Blake didn’t even flinch as she grabbed the Fruity Pebbles without glancing at another box in the aisle.

“Blake right?” the brunette girl stopped to see a dark hair girl, she wore sweats and a workout shirt. Her hair pulled tightly back in a bun. Blake quickly searched her mind for how she recognized this girl. Then it hit her.

“Phoenix right?” Blake asked and the girl chuckled softly.

“Yeah that’s my call sign. You can call me Nat” Blake nodded as she reached over to shake her hand. "Sorry for my appearance. We've been training so much most of us havent had a second to leave base"

"I'm assumng that includes Bradley?" as Nat nodded Blaked felt her stomach churn with guilt. She thought he was avoiding her but turns out she was the one avoiding him all along.

"He mentioned he hadn’t heard from you in a while. I'll be happy to report you’re alive" Nat teased, knowing how upset Bradley had been considering he made out with a girl he really liked just to be ghosted and not have enough time to go and see if it was true. The mission was approaching fast and no one had still succesfully completed the course.

"I know, I meant to text but I figured he'd stop by on my morning run and then it just left my mind" Blake semi-lied considering she was unsure how to approach the situation. If she reached out and apologized Bradley would assume she wanted to be more than friends yet at the same time, straddling the guys lap, and tasting every inch of his mouth arleady sent the wrong message.

"You should shoot him a text, I might strangle him the next time he asks me what he did wrong. Men think all women can help them with their problems, and try being the only one on base" Blake laughed as Nat said this, it reminding her how she used to be the one everyone went to for advice. Then she remebered that doesn’t happen anymore and her heart shattered once again.

"I could see how that can be annoying, I'll text him" Blake reached for her phone and moved to the message app to start a new conversation. Nat watched like it was her job to make sure she actually texted her friend.

Blake

I've heard through the grapevine

that someone can't shut up about me

<3 Blake

Bradley

It’s not my fault, normally when

I kiss a girl they can’t leave me alone

“You’ve got yourself one cocky friend” Blake chuckled as she looked at the text from the boy. She had barely looked up from her phone when a response came through.

“All pilots are cocky, if we didn’t have such big heads we wouldn’t be as aerodynamic” Blake laughed at Nat’s response, not minding Bradley’s cockiness one bit.

“Thanks for making me text him, I can be pretty stubborn about these kind of things” Blake said waving her phone as she set it back down in her cart, waiting a moment to text the eager boy back.

“No problem, I get letting people in is hard but if you were going to let anyone, Bradley is a good choice” Blake smiled and nodded before slowly starting back down the aisle.

“Oh wait, Nat?” Blake turned to see the girl stop and face her. “Do you know Bradley’s favorite cereal?”

“He likes Captain Crunch” she told her and Blake thanked her as she grabbed the box off the shelf. Nat watched as the girl walked away, a content smile on her face.

Blake

I’d love to prove you wrong but

I’d rather invite you over tonight?

Bradley

Be there in 20

Blake was halfway done unloading groceries when she heard the truck door slam. She had left the door open for him again so once he approached she could smile at him from inside as she continued to put stuff away. “Hey B”

“Hey other B” Blake grinned back as he let himself inside.

“I thought you were never gonna text me” he told her as he sat himself at the counter, content with watching her put groceries away.

“And I thought you gave up on your morning run” Bradley’s eyes widened as she said this. He never assumed that she would notice. Then it all made sense why she never texted, she thought he had ghosted her first.

“I wish that was the case, they’ve been making us train earlier in the day. No one really has a hang of it yet” Bradley wasn’t allowed to give much detail, but they’d practically doubled their hours trying to make it in time. It didn’t help that is was Maverick they were training with.

“Are you on a tight schedule?” Blake started to feel bad for making him leave base if he needed to be focusing on something more important.

“Kind of, we have a big mission coming up. I don’t even know if I’ll be picked though” Bradley shook his head, knowing him and Hangman were neck and neck when it came down to it.

“Should you have stayed at base, I didn’t mean to drag you away” Bradley immediately shook his head, wanting to reassure the girl.

“No, we have the weekend actually. Our last weekend before the big operation” Bradley didn’t want to explain that they were given the weekend for loved ones, a last opportunity kind of thing. The mission was one you could easily never come back from.

“So what do I have to do, to get you to spend that with me?” Blake asked and Bradley felt the tips of his ears heat up.

“You say the word and I’m here all weekend” he was already bummed about having no one to spend the weekend with. Now he would get to spend it with her.

“Stay all weekend?” she asked and Bradley grinned. Blake wanted a trial run, a two day trial run. Maybe she could allow someone back into her life for once.

“There’s no place I’d rather be” he smirked and Blake laughed as she emptied the last bag, setting the cereal on the counter. Bradley reached out and grabbed the box. “I love Captain Crunch”

“You can have some in the morning” the indication of him staying the night made his face redden some more.

“You sound like my Mom” he told her and she belly laughed as she finished putting away all the groceries. Bradley watched as she walked over to him, and he turned to face her. The minute her hips nudged with each of his knee caps his heart rate doubled in speed.

“I don’t need you spoiling your dinner” she told him and Bradley wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him in a hug.

“If you’re serving up dinner does that mean I get to serve up dessert?” Bradley asked, his face mushing into her neck as he fluttered kisses along the side. Blake hummed contently at the feeling.

“I guess that depends on how well you behave” she told him, hands running through the short strawberry brown locks.

“I don’t plan on behaving at all” he whispered into her neck, causing her to shudder as his hands firmly squeezed her ass.

“I expected as much” she told him as he pulled his face from her neck and looked her in the eyes. “But if you plan to misbehave, wait until I’m done cooking”

“I’m not that patient” he told her and she chuckled and shook her head before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, his mustache scratching her in the process.

“You’re a Navy Pilot, I think you can handle yourself for thirty minutes” Bradley had no argument against this as she removed herself from his grip and moved to the stove where she started to cook for two. Which when you think about it, isn’t much more than one.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was avoiding you” Bradley said as she continued to work on the dinner.

“I’m sorry for not texting you” she offered back and he smiled softly at her. If this was his last weekend of freedom he was glad he was spending it here. Without the crushing reminder of loneliness and his bitter feelings towards Maverick. It was just him and a beautiful girl, one he’d like to learn more about, and it was the best distraction he could ask for.

“It’s okay, but I was close to coming and knocking down your door considering you had my number and I didn’t have yours” Bradley teased and she shook her head, a dopey grin on her face. She liked having someone around that made her smile so much.

“It’s more fun that way though, knowing you have all the power” she gave him a pointed look, knowing she was mainly in control of this relationship so far, no matter what it was.

“I’m not used to passing over the reigns” he told her and she chuckled, turning to fully face him as she allowed the dish to cook.

“You’ll have to get used to it because I’m a leader, always have been. My cousins used to pick on me for how easily control came to me” Blake stopped suddenly, sucking in a sharp breath at the mention of her cousins. She hadn’t had a thought like that infiltrate her mind and so easily slip out to none other than a stranger. Bradley noticed this, how her lip slightly quivered, and she regained her composure. He thought to himself how in control she was of her emotions. She was right about being a leader.

“Your cousins, are you close?” Blake started shaking her head and turned back to her food. Clearly trying to find a way to escape the conversation.

“We were” she said sharply, fighting to keep her tears away. She never would’ve considered allowing someone in her life would make her so easily crumble to all the ways she worked to keep those kind of thoughts at bay.

“Is that because you left?” Bradley didn’t want to push, but if he had cousins he would do everything in his power to stay with them.

“No, they backed away long before I decided to take my own step back” it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

"Not to overstep, but if I had the choice I wouldn't of given up on them. Life takes a lot of turns, and people come and go, but sometimes youre lucky enough to have the ones who stay. If you ask me it sounds like you had the choice to stay and you left them" Blake felt the tears slip and she stepped back from the stove so they wouldn’t land in their dinner. Bradley had done nothing but offer her the truth, and he was also the first person to get through to her in a long time.

"Why is it you always have the perfect thing to say?" she asked as she quickly wiped her eyes and turned to face him again.

"I've been on my own a long time, not by choice. I spend everyday thinking about what my life would be if I still had my parents and Uncle Maverick" he told her and she drew her eyebrows together.

"You lost your Uncle too?" she asked and he shook his head.

"No, we had a falling out a few years back. Somet things you just can't come back from" he told her and she shook her head.

"Sounds like you need to take some of your own advice" she said squeezing his hand and for the frst time he thought about how he never gave Maverick a chance to explain. He never allowed himself to see how hard Maverick was actualy trying to fix things. Not only did Bradley lose his father but Maverick lost him too.

"I guess I do. Maybe the two of us just need to work on our people skills" he offered and she chuckled as she wiped away the remaining tears in her eyes.

"How about we start with each ottoher?" she asked, content on just being here with him because somehow he managed to comfort her despite only knowing him a few days.

"I'd love to work on my people skills with you" he said as he stood and wrapped his arms around her waist. Bradley gave her a quick spin, trying to lighten the sad mood they always managed to find with each other.

"I have a feeling you’re going to pretty good at it" Blake told him and Bradley chuckled and teasingly shook his head at the girl before pulling her to his lips for a real kiss. Never would he have thought book girl would be as amazing as this, if he could keep her forever he would.

Tag list: @emma8895eb

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[koifishart]

I want to be Your Koi Fish - Nine Tails

Warning: +18 content, criminal underworld, intercourse, strong language - and so on

Fanfiction based on: "Baki" by Itagaki Keisuke

>10<

~TAIL NR 6 - The art collector

She opened another pair of eyes, wondering what gender the Bearer had come across this time. He wasn't particularly bulky, she was shooting - about her size, slim, of medium height, quite vigorous, judging by the flow of chi. He rolled over several times from side to side, almost saying "5 more minutes mom" when he finally got out of bed. He hadn't slept too long the previous night. He hadn't really slept too long the previous night. Looking at the mirror hanging over the sink in the elegant bathroom didn't help much. Probably he was a man, however, his face was so smooth, so cute ... she would easily mistake him for a woman, especially if she paired a pretty face with a really slim body. The light brown short hair, usually probably styled according to the latest trends, was now sticking out in a different direction. naked and yawning, he walked behind the glass separating the corner of the room from the rest of the room, letting warm streams of rainwater trickle down the back of the neck. She looked down with him. Biologically definitely a man. Was the sex of the wearer important to her? tolerant about this, but it was good to know how biology could support her in her quest for another tail. turned out to be slightly weaker, with less muscle potential - mainly due to lower blood testosterone levels. But whatever biology was behind him, he didn't seem very athletic. Perhaps the outline of the muscles was showing a little from beneath the skin, it was nothing special. After a lukewarm bath, he wrapped himself in a soft bathrobe and marched into the kitchen to get out a bowl, a cardboard box of cereal, and a bottle of milk. It chilled her to see such a meal, but it was not a choice, so the best thing she could do was look away. She still wondered what she could do to help this man. The answer came as he headed for the door she hadn't noticed before. Behind the classic, white wing, perfectly matching the rest of the decor, they found ... another door, this time made of solid steel, locked with a bionic key. A red light flashed in Hanabi's head. Much the same, albeit not in her own home, she kept a stock of weapons when she was engaged in contract murder. The warehouse was left untouched, just in case, but why would any guy install this type of security in his own apartment? She froze at what he was hiding from the world. The room looked like a pretty well-made spy movie. Clean, steel gray surfaces, high technology, LED lighting and ... a separate sector with works of art of all kinds. Could there be some kind of Batman or another Iron Man? He sat down at the desk, opening a luxurious laptop on which a map appeared. When she looked closer, she noticed that it was a very detailed plan of the building after all.

- Well, let's go to work ... - he muttered, snapping his knuckles, then began to inspect the corridor along the corridor.

She was horrified to understand that her Bearer was not only a connoisseur of art, but, above all, a THIEV. She did not feel much better or very holy, after all, she was engaged in contract murder herself, and now she proudly carried the title of the wife of the head of the yakuza clan, but she felt that it was a bit different. Her moral backbone relatively easily absorbed goods paid for with not entirely clean money, but it was unable to swallow the appropriated ones. Nevertheless, it seemed as if she had to help this man make the jump he was planning. Surprisingly, when she listened to these plans, they were not too brilliant, and the situation was very demanding. Judging by the drawings, the building was a closely guarded museum, dotted not only with priceless exhibits, but also with expensive equipment to protect them. The mass of cameras, laser sensors, it looked as if someone had even tried diffusers with incapacitating gas. The wearer sank his fingers into his hair, leaning resignedly on the back of the chair.

- Fuck ... I won't go in ... - he muttered nervously, then bent his head between his legs and covered his eyes with his hands.

In fact, it looked as if the only option to enter was to politely buy a ticket during the day and see the exhibit on display. This, however, was not something that satisfied the man. He glanced at the set again, and Hanabi dawned on him. There was one thing he missed. Perhaps it is enough for her to plant an idea and then she will take it over herself?

"Look at the ventilation ducts," she whispered in his ear, hoping he would think it was a surge of breath.

- Ventilation .... YES! The ventilation is clean! - Threw happily, and Fox breathed a sigh of relief.

As she watched the man plan his next steps, she concluded that she had underestimated him. Perhaps he sat on the set for too long and stalled? As soon as he got out of one problem, he would sprinkle ideas like from a sleeve, and what worried her a bit more was that he was ... drawing from the side. It would not be surprising if the quick sketch did not form a seated fox with nine tails raised up. Had he somehow discovered her presence subconsciously? Since she had not returned to the Palace of Inari, she must still have been needed, so she decided not to lean out too much. 

They sat on the plan ... in the end, she didn't know how many, but a minimum of a few days. In the meantime, they prepared the equipment, the clothes that did not restrict movement, and the outfit she offered as quietly as the use of ventilation. The big day had come and she still didn't know what the man was looking for, had to help anyway to keep going. As expected, the designed transition allowed them to slip past unnoticed and then put into practice their evil plan. They entered the office where the most important security knots were located, dressed in the uniform of one of the security guards. Inside was a woman of slight build, with colorful hair tied in a loose bun. As soon as they caught her attention, she stood up, unbuttoning the top button of her white, thin T-shirt. She was not afraid, she did not move away, she did not even move closer.

- So this is what I'm waiting for? - she muttered like a kitten.

A lamp flashed in Hanabi's head. The woman seemed to have mistaken them for someone she knew or was about to meet. The Host took advantage of the situation, pressing her against the wall with a kiss, then made a hand motion near her head. The colorful-haired museum employee fainted, falling straight into his arms. He quickly stuffed it into a cupboard, then implemented the second part of the plan. He took off his bodyguard suit to replace it with the one worn by the overwhelmed woman. Hana smiled proudly at the sight of them reflected in the mirror. He had such feminine, delicate facial features that only a seasoned observer could distinguish them from the original when he put on a colorful wig! Her heart skipped in her throat as someone knocked on the office door. They turned to find a real bodyguard in the doorway.

- Changing of the guard. Will you save in documents? - he muttered a bit sluggishly, reaching for a thermo mug standing nearby.

- Of course! - the Carrier replied singingly, waving to the departing man.

Of course they didn't write anything down, but they sat in a chair right in front of the console. He knew how it worked. He knew he would have a few minutes before anyone found out - he was very excited about it. White Fox felt a growing excitement, blood bubbling in her veins. First, they poured a cup of coffee on the camera controller, by accident, of course. A moment later, the Host was standing at the main fuse. One "click" was enough to turn off the electricity in the entire building. They rushed out as fast as they could, following the shortest route to the room of interest to them, following the planned building plan. He was there. He waited. The largest, most beautiful diamond she had ever seen, locked in a miracle of jewelery art. - openwork, apparently hand-forged golden egg.

She woke up lying on her back, arms spread wide, covered with delicate, pleasantly cool silk. From underneath she was warmed by tight, twisting tails, and she turned to settle more comfortably on her stomach. She felt a very unpleasant, metallic taste in her mouth, as if the dissonance between her views and the task at hand was becoming more and more tangible. The more she was glad that it was all over. However, three tails were still missing.

[elf-kid2]

Helluva Boss: Ozzie's

So, for reasons, late to the party though I very much am, here's a breakdown of the episode, and the number it did on the relationship.

-Moxxie & Milly are celebrating their 1st marriage-anniversary with reservations at an exclusive club: Ozzie's. Blitzo is not invited. Explicitly not invited.

-Blitzo decides to follow them anyway. The Bouncer at the club says it's "Couples Only," and throws him in the dumpster.

.

-Stolas is having an evening at home, alone. His (soon to be officially) Ex-Wife has his daughter for the weekend.

-He is eating cereal, watching telanovellas, and feeling lonely and unloved in his big, empty palace.

-Blitzo, still sitting in the dumpster, calls him up and invites him out to a club in the Lust Ring. Stolas agrees immediately.

-This will be their first-ever date (excluding their contractually-agreed upon monthly hookups).

.

-Stolas arrives, dressed to the nines in a fancy suite, sparkly star-cape, and a magic portal.

-Blitzo is clearly looking and feeling notably less fancy.

-Bouncer: "You again?! Beat it, shithead!" Prince Stolas: "Ahe-em. Do we have a problem?" Bouncer: "Oh! Uh- shit, uh-- My apologies, Your Highness! Uh-- Please, go right in!"

.

-Stolas is delighted and impressed by the venue.

-When they're seated, Blitz has to use a stack of books as a booster, in order to sit at the same table as the notably-taller Stolas.

-Blitzo immediately pulls out a pair of binoculars and turns away from Stolas, focused on watching Moxxie & Milly.

-Moxxie & Milly, blissfully wedded lovey-dovey couple that they are, do not need any special accommodations to share a table.

-Stolas attempts to make conversation. Asks what kind of wine he'd prefer. Blitz refuses to listen or look at him.

-Stolas orders red wine, white wine, AND champagne. To share.

-Stolas keeps trying to make smalltalk, to get Blitzo to look at him. He asks why Blitzo asked him out after all this time, and Blitzo hesitates...

.

The Show Begins!

-Fizzarolli appears on stage, hyping up the show, the crowd, and the venue-- "The Gem-Joint of Asmodeus himself!"

-Blitz hides his face with a menu, the moment he sees Fizzarolli. Stolas does the same, when Asmodeus is mentioned, and the Incident at Loo-Loo Land is brought up.

.

-Moxxie is called to the stage, and Blitzo flinches as Moxxie announces his love for Milly for the whole room to hear.

-He is immediately mocked for bringing "Love" into a space dedicated to LUST!

-Blitzo pushes himself into the spotlight, and tries to defend Moxxie & Milly. By saying he's seen them fucking, and it's actually hot.

-Fizzarolli sees him, and decides to guide the room in pointing and laughing at Blitzo instead.

-Stolas finds out that his lover sugar-baby used to date the curvaceous, confident, undeniably sexy succubus popstar, Verosika Mayday.

-He finds out that Blitzo (probably) also dated Fizzarolli, the Famous Superstar Sex-Symbol Jester who's making headlines in the Lust Ring, and whose face is on his cereal-box.

-Asmodeus decides to mock Stolas as well.

-Stolas & Blitzo's relationship is highlighted as a Lust-fueled situation that destroyed Stolas's marriage and lost him is smoking-hot wife and sweet kid, all for the sake of a *thrust* with an imp.

-This is placed in direct contrast with Moxxie & Milly's "boring" lovey-dovey, romantic, stable marriage.

-Everyone is staring at them, and Stolas hides his face.

-Milly & Moxxie reclaim the stage, and Stolas tries to reach out, when eyes are no longer on them. Blitzo pulls away.

-Blitzo declares the venture to have been a mistake. He says they should just leave; Stolas follows.

-Blitzo gives Stolas a ride home, even though Stolas can create portals, and even though Stolas is too tall to fit comfortably in his messy, beat-up van.

-Stolas invites him inside, with the promise of wine and an empty palace. Blitzo says 'no.' He's not fucking him tonight; he's not in the mood.

-Stolas: We could... talk. Or, watch a movie, or maybe...cuddle...? Blitzo: Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear, all the time. But I just can't do it tonight, okay? I'm sorry. Stolas: Okay. ...Good Night, Bllitzo Blitz: 'Night.

.

-They both drink heavily, that night, full of sorrows and regrets.

-Shortly after, Stolas finally starts working to finalize his divorce and make his Ex-Wife finish MOVING OUT already.

-Blitzo hooks up with Moxxie & Milly's Ex. It isn't fun, and it doesn't fix anything.

-The next time they talk, they both try to pretend like it never happened.

-But Blitzo still feels like he'll never be anything but a dirty little secret, to Stolas. And Stolas still feels that Blitzo will never be genuinely interested in HIM, when clearly Hell is full of sexier people who would take his place in a heartbeat.

-And they both ask themselves, how long can they go on like this?

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Careful He-man

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

The bath feels fantastic but I don't stay in too long because one... the movie two... I've been in water all day and three... Emmett is out in the bedroom on the cell-phone.

He told me it was his dad which may be really, really confusing for him right now.

I crack myself up.

I get myself settled on the couch and he comes down looking upset.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to help you out of the tub. You shouldn't have to do this right now."

"I'm okay. Can you sit with me?"

And somehow I am.

Did I prefer last time when he wrapped me all up?

Of course.

Am I incapable of drying myself off and slipping on some undies?

No.

"Of course, let me get us something to drink."

I didn't realize how thirsty I am until he says that.

"Please."

I suck down about half the bottle and he's watching me, wide-eyed, when I finish.

"You must have gotten into trouble in college, Finn. That's a heck of a chug."

I shrug because my brain immediately tries to think of a sucking cock joke.

Swallowing, am I right?

All the better to suck your cock with, my dear?

No, crap, now it's too late.

"Need anything else?"

"Just you."

"I hope you're not too sore, Finn, was that too much?"

"Shhh, movie. I'm okay. Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

I wanna stay in the little bit of headspace I have and watch my movie.

Then it's story time.

I can adult tomorrow.

"Of course, sorry."

There's only about twenty minutes left and I look at the clock when it's over.

"It's the weekend, you can stay up a little later if you want to."

I do but story.

Plus, he looks tired.

"No, wanna snuggle. You'll read to me?"

"I promised, didn't I? Brush your teeth first and I'll meet you up there."

"Kay."

He has adult house crap to do but I don't.

I just have to brush my teeth and climb into bed and it's glorious.

He brings me up my night cup and then steals the bathroom for a minute.

I worry that he's worried.

As he's climbing in to bed I tell him.

"I had a lot of fun tonight Emmett... lots."

He smiles at me and kisses my cheek.

"Good. Me too, darling. Now, chapter three."

********

Sunday morning I have to almost beg him to fuck my face.

He's sure as hell into it once he does and I think he's just worried that it might be too much but it's my ass that's sore, not my throat.

I shower first, like always because I am definitely stickiest, then lounge around until he's done.

"Let's scrounge up something for breakfast," he says and I am definitely all for that plan.

"Do you have any cereal?"

"I do. Or I could make waffles or eggs."

His kitchen is much better stocked then mine.

"Um, then I want waffles please."

"You got it."

I sit at the table because I can see him from here and he reaches into a cabinet and grabs a box of pancake mix.

A bowl, spoon, measuring cup and waffle iron appear and then he opens the box.

It's new and he pulls the full bag up a little bit so that he can get a good grip on it.

Then he pulls. Too hard.

Pancake mix erupts like Mt. Vesuvius and flies through the air, covering half the kitchen.

"Careful He-man," I joke, trying not to breathe it in or laugh too hard.

"You're only supposed to be rough with me, Emmett, not with everything."

He was pissed but now he's smiling and he sits down next to me.

He has mix in his hair, on his shoulders and all over his shirt.

"You made a mess."

"Yes I did. Let me get this cleaned up real quick and I'll see if there's enough left to make some waffles."

He brings out the vacuum and then wipes down most of the surfaces in the kitchen.

"I'm gonna need a shower, I think."

I'm not arguing, he's right.

"I can make the waffles."

"No, damn it, you're gonna let me take care of you a little bit before you run away back to the big, bad world."

Not arguing with that either.

"Okay, I'll wait."

While he's gone I think about his big, bad world comment and I realize that it's Sunday and I should be in mass.

I've missed a few weeks lately and after yesterday I probably need it more than ever.

I can still make the late mass if I leave after breakfast and I have a suit here.

Yes, I should go, it'll do me good.

"Back, let's make some waffles."

He was quick.

The waffles don't take long either and he gives me the first one.

I'm halfway done when he sits down and I tell him that I want to leave in about half an hour so I can make it to mass.

"I have no problem with you going to church Finnegan, none but I was hoping we'd talk today. I think we need to. Any chance you want to come back afterwards? I wasn't expecting that and honestly I should just go home because I've monopolized most of his weekend but he's asking and I don't want to go back to my apartment. Work is going to suck this week because of my Monday being all screwed up and even though I am sexually more than satisfied, I still want to be with him.

"If you want. Sure you're not tired of me yet?"

"Not at all, darling."

"Okay then, I will... I'll be gone two, two and a half hours or so?" 

I have no idea what traffic will be like on a Sunday.

"That's fine. Now that you've agreed to come back I have to warn you that I'm going to my dad and stepmom's for dinner. You're welcome to come or not and you can spend the night or not. Whatever you need, Finnegan."

Well that complicates things. 

"Parental units is a big step, Emmett. Can I decide after church?"

"Yep. I'm going to the grocery store, do you want anything?"

"More waffle mix?" I offer.

"Yes, smart Alec, I will get more waffle mix. Anything else? Anything you'd like for snacks or for supper this week?"

"Um, I like popcorn a lot. Whatever you make is always yummy." 

That's probably not super helpful. 

"Can I give you some money for groceries?  Please? It's not fair for you to buy it all and then do the cooking too, Emmett. Please?"

"Fine, if you wanna toss me twenty dollars I'll put it towards groceries but that's it, you've gotta stop offering."

Not happening. 

I kiss him quickly on his cheek and then run upstairs to change. 

On my way out I leave one hundred on the coffee table and remind myself to stop by an ATM on the way back so I have cash for lunches this week.

[houseofsannae]

For the director's commentary, I think the stories of yours I find most interesting are Turnabout Court Martial and Equilateral.

Since I'm being indecisive, how about you pick whichever one of those you think you can give better commentary on?

:P You know, Anon, you could've just asked for both separately and I'd have never known the difference. That said, I'm going to pick Equilateral, because it's shorter.

Equilateral was written for the Entwined in Trine SoRiKai zine, which was my first time working in a zine project, so that was a new, fun experience.

Out of curiosity, how long after you all got back home did it take for you three to confess how you felt to each other? Aqua asked, drily. “The hard part was getting Riku to admit he liked both of us. We actually had to pin him down so he wouldn’t leave,” Kairi whispered, amused. Literally or figuratively? “Yes.”

This quote in the pre-fic notes is taken from Land of Oblivion, where I first touched on how Sora, Kairi, and Riku got together in KHΨ. It was my first idea for what I wanted to do when I came aboard the zine, and the mods liked the idea of expanding on it as well.

For a second, she thought she saw her face flicker like a skipped frame in a movie. Her purple eyes turned blue, her auburn hair turned blonde. “Naminé?” she gasped, but by the time she opened her mouth to speak, the other girl was gone.

Being as this fic is technically a "prequel" to KHΨ, there are a number of call-forwards to things that happen later in the series. Here, Kairi (and we) see a flash of Naminé in her mirror, indicating that Naminé isn't quite as gone as she wants to be, as we'll see in More Affection Than You Know.

    “I love Sora and Riku,” she repeated, and slumped forwards on her hands. Great. Now what was she supposed to do about this? It would be hard enough telling just one of them she liked them, but both?             She let her face slide out of her hand to land forehead-first on the desk itself.             “Oh, fuck me.”

I had to ask the mods' permission to make sure I was allowed to say the fuck word. Fortunately, they were familiar with the way I write Kairi enough to have been expecting it, and also Kairi spends the entire rest of the fic in the company of either Sora or her father, so she refrains from swearing for the rest of it.

  Kairi busied herself with retrieving the cereal box and a bowl in order to avoid his gaze. “I mean… I know you have experience in the area,” she said, casually.             Her dad laughed. “I’m a little out of practice, Kai,” he said.

Kairi's dad is gay! I've alluded to it several times in other fics, but this was the first time it's mentioned. Kairi's got a gay dad!

“That so?” he asked, teasing. “Well then, purple is definitely more your colour than–”

I stand by this, Kairi does look better in the purple she had in her KH1 design than the pink she'd have in subsequent installments.

“If, hypothetically speaking, it was two boys, would their names hypothetically rhyme with ‘Yozora’ and ‘Miku’?” her dad asked, casually.

Yozora will never appear in KHΨ as anything other than a running gag. I have spoken. ;) "Miku" is both a Hatsune Miku joke and the ship name for Mickey/Riku.

            “Kairi,” her father said, “I’m going to level with you.”             “Dad, please don’t use the ‘public service announcement’ voice,” Kairi moaned.             “Hey, I’m hip and cool,” her dad said, smirking.             Kairi rolled her eyes. “Dad, saying things are ‘hip’ was outdated when you were my age!”

He's hip He's cool He's 45 (or somewhere around there, I don't have a solid age for him) It is the solemn duty of parents to playfully annoy their children.

I think this was the first time I ever had Kairi's dad in an extended scene. Writing the kids' parents is always an exercise in "what kind of upbringing would have resulted in who these characters are and how they act", in addition to any canon facts we do know about them (in this case, that Kairi's parent of unspecified gender is the Destiny Islands' mayor).

“No,” her father said, “We’ll get a huge tub of ice cream and invite Selphie over for a movie marathon.” He leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. “It won’t be the end of the world, I promise.”

You'll note this is describing basically the same sort of get-together Kairi et al would have in Girls' Night. Equilateral was written immediately after Loose Ends, but I'd had the series ending locked in long before that.

Kairi snickered. “Yeah, but it’s a moot point anyways. Besides, I don’t even like girls like that.” She took a sip from her own mug of coffee and by doing so completely missed the incredulous look that flew over her father’s face.

Again, a call-forwards to the running joke about Kairi being oblivious about her own bisexuality, which her father of course noticed long ago - the incredulity is because he didn't realize she hadn't realized.

Boys, Kairi had decided, were really dumb.

This was the first line written for the fic. It was actually supposed to be the first line of the fic, but the tone it sets isn't the one I wanted for the scene with Kairi in her room - it's too frustrated and doesn't lead into her idly thinking about how much she loves them, only to realize she means it romantically instead of platonically. It got moved down to this scene, which also became the portion of the fic that was taken as an excerpt for the physical zine.

If she were Sora, she’d probably back off, practice for several hours to improve her performance, then come back later.

This is a joke about level grinding in a video game.

            She was trying to figure out what exactly to say to the boy next to her when Sora said, out of the blue, “I heard Selphie has a new boyfriend again.”             “Oh, really?” Kairi asked, at once irritated and relieved for the distraction. “Again? Think this one will last longer than the last one?”             Sora shrugged. “No idea. What was the record again?”             “Her third girlfriend lasted three weeks,” Kairi recalled. “The real question is, how long do you think it’s going to take her to figure out she’s not interested in romance?”

This is the first mention that Selphie Tilmitt is pansexual and aromantic in KHΨ. The idea that Naminé would end up dating her for a week before Selphie realized Naminé wanted a romance she couldn't give her had long been plotted by the time of writing.

            Sora blinked. “She’s not?”             Kairi shook her head. “I don’t think she ever was.”             Sora was frowning. “But… if she’s not, why does she keep trying to find it?”             Kairi snickered. “I don’t think it’s the romantic aspect that she’s interested in, Sora.”             “Oh,” Sora said, and then a couple of seconds later, “Oh.” He reddened, and it was adorable.

Selphie fucks.

            Sora opened his mouth to respond, confident, then frowned, reconsidering his answer. “Oh… yeah. It’s Riku. He’s probably going to panic, and think we’re just humouring him, or something. Good point.”             Kairi nodded. “If we don’t have a plan to counteract his Riku-instincts, we’re sunk.”

I like Riku, but I also like dragging Riku by pointing out how his character works.

            “Right,” Sora said, nodding. His face scrunched up. “Man, I wish there was a way we could send each other messages just between the two of us. Like, a portable phone, or something.”             “Yeah, that’d be really convenient,” Kairi agreed.

I would introduce gummiphones after the timeskip between Seeker of Darkness and Mistress of Evil. This is a joking call-forward to that.

            Sora took a deep breath. He was bad at lying. He knew he was bad at lying.             Unfortunately, his mom also knew he was bad at lying.             Which made it awkward to try to keep secrets from her.

This scene was not in the outline. Sora's mother doesn't realize that he, Riku, and Kairi are together until a ways through More Affection. So she can't find out here that they like each other. Originally I was going to avoid the issue entirely and just not have a scene of Sora talking to his parent, but the fic felt unbalanced without it - Kairi and Riku both talk to theirs, why not Sora? So I decided on this balancing act where Sora goes out of his way to keep the truth from his mother, and while she can tell he's full of shit, she doesn't know how much shit, and knows him well enough to know it's probably nothing bad he's hiding, and he'll tell her in his own time.

            But he had a plan. He’d met Tidus on the way back from his talk with Kairi, and had begged him for help. Tidus had volunteered his services, always ready to help a friend, and had also promised not to say anything about Sora and Kairi to Riku or to anyone else.             Sora figured Wakka would know by the end of the week, but hopefully the older boy would be able to exercise some impulse control over Tidus.

I don't think I had started FFX before I wrote this; this is one of the last times I had an excuse for writing Tidus and Wakka wrong if I had ;)

But he wasn’t sure how his mother would react if he said that he was trying to take things with Kairi and Riku to an even higher level.

Well, Sora, all you gotta do is say the word; you know they'll follow ;) I enjoy putting song lyrics in the narration quite a bit.

            “Does she have a name?” his mother asked.             “Yuna,” Sora blurted, on instinct.

            Several worlds away, a fairy sneezed.

I'm also glad I put this scene in because this is my favourite joke in the fic ;)

That was very sensible, and also not the answer Sora wanted.

No commentary, I just like this line.

            “Oh, one other thing,” his mother said.             Sora jerked up from his thoughts. “Huh? What’s up, mom?”             She leaned over to the fridge and pulled open the ice box. “I don’t suppose you know who keeps eating all my sea-salt ice cream? I could’ve sworn I had more than this.”

And a call-forwards to Roxas (and Xion) borrowing Sora's body every once in a while to watch the sunset, which would eventually be how Sora's mother discovers they exist.

            Riku had had a lot of time to think during his year apart from both of them, but he’d done his best not to. Singular focus on his goal of reviving Sora had been all that drove him forwards; drove him forwards and kept him willingly blind to the effects his actions were having, on Roxas, on Naminé, and on… on…             Riku shook his head, not sure where that train of thought was supposed to be going.

At this point in the timeline, the only person who remembers that Xion ever existed is Naminé (who is trying very hard to pretend she herself doesn't exist anymore).

            Riku declined to comment on the subject. “So I went to see a therapist,” his uncle continued, respecting his silence. “He’s a bit on the younger side, only a few years older than you are, I think, but… The things I talked about with him made a lot of sense. Not just about my relationship with you, but about…” he trailed off, staring at the bottom of his glass.             Riku sipped his own water. “About my mom and dad?”             “Yeah,” his uncle muttered. “He said something like… ‘with all the problems in this world, you’d think there’d be more answers, but there aren’t. It’s not fair, but it’s the way things are.’ And that if I wanted to find an answer, I had to do it myself.”

The quoted sentences here is a direct quote from Final Fantasy IX; hinting that Riku's uncle's therapist is Zidane Tribal, whom Naminé would also start going to for therapy in Whatever Lies Beyond This Morning.

            “I wasn’t going to just bury my head in the sand,” Riku said, defensively.             “Yes, you were,” his uncle deadpanned.

I love Riku, and I also love reading him to filth.

“And it’s a bad idea,” his uncle added. “Take advice from your elders who made mistakes.”

Listen, boy, it's good information from a man who's made mistakes Just a word or two that she gets from you can be the difference that it makes She's a trusting soul, she's put her trust in you But a girl like that won't tell you what you should do

My outline says:

h. Riku’s Uncle: Trust me, trust them i. Riku’s Uncle: And for the love of nonspecific deity(ies), Tell them about it, tell them everything you feel i. Riku: I’m not sure if we’re allowed to print lyrics from a Billy Joel song

Basically Riku needs to give them every reason to accept that he's for real. ;)

His uncle smiled back. “Then all you have to do, is tell them everything you feel. Not,” he added, “that that’s going to be easy.”

Yeah, exactly!

            Even if it might be taking them longer than it’d taken Sora to realize, or admit it. Sora could afford to be patient with them. They had all the time in the world. Kairi’s teasing, Riku’s sardonic smile, their laughter, their faces, everything he loved about them were here to stay.             And, he sometimes thought to himself in the part of his mind that wanted to be rebellious, they both had nice butts.             This was just an objective truth.

KHΨ Sora is an ass man. I have spoken.

Riku sat there, in silence, held down in a patch of sand by his two best friends, unconsciously enjoying the sensation of them pinning him down while consciously trying to figure out if they actually were making his wildest dreams come true, or if this was some sort of convoluted, extended way of letting him down gently.

Riku gonna Riku.

“It’s like a triangle when all the sides are the same,” Sora said. “Equilateral.”

            “An mmf threesome by default,” Kairi agreed, smirking at Riku, who rolled his eyes.             “A what threesome?” Sora asked, looking over at her in confusion. Kairi and Riku met each other’s eyes and privately agreed to do their best at maintaining Sora’s innocence for as long as possible.

And thus began Kairi and Riku's quest to prevent Sora from acting his age, which would eventually come to a head in Adjustments.

            “Of course not, my Princess,” Riku said, taking her hand as she turned bright red once more.             “Nicknames are cheating,” she muttered.             Riku smirked. “Sorry, Kairi.”             “I didn’t say ‘stop’,” she added in exactly the same tone.

This bit is just to point out that while Kairi does get flustered over being called "Princess" as a nickname, she does actually enjoy it.

The news would come out to Selphie, regardless, and Kairi knew there’d be a reckoning if it didn’t reach Selphie’s ears through Kairi’s lips, so she’d taken him up on the offer. Her father was fetching the ice cream, and Kairi was fetching Selphie, assuming she wasn’t busy with her newest partner (Kairi had long since learned to knock before entering).

Selphie fucks.

            The road to Selphie’s house passed by Sora’s, and Kairi was pleased to see the boy himself, sitting on the branch of a tall tree in the yard, watching the sunset. He had a stick of something that was probably an ice cream bar in his hand. Kairi almost called out to him, but something held her back. This moment seemed… private, almost. Like there was a spell over the area that she would break if she wasn’t careful.             There was a brief pulse in her heart, a momentary feeling of warmth. “Naminé?” she asked, placing a hand over her heart, but there was no response. She looked back at Sora, up on the branch.             Slowly, almost mechanically, he took a bite of the ice cream.             There was a strange air of loneliness around him, almost melancholy. But it was private. Not her place to intrude.

And here we see Roxas doing what he'd be doing in More Affection; eating Sora's mom's sea-salt ice cream and watching the sunset. I don't have a set amount of time between Equilateral and More Affection, but you could easily consider it only a couple of days.

And that's everything! This was fun, thank you for asking for it! ^_^

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Six. Movies and Speedruns

warnings: swearing, many memes word count: 3.8k (not including pictures) (wow okay ash pop off!) 

behind the screen (irl!dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: LETS ALL JUST AGREE TO NOT LOOK AT THE DATES ON TWEETS AND STUFF BC SOME CHAPTERS ARE SO SCUFFED WITH DATES!!!! JUST KNOW THIS STORY STARTS MID NOVEMBER!!!!!!!! (in a world where covid doesn’t exist btw)

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**********

Unknowingly and unintentionally, Y/n let out a big sigh as she poured a glass of water.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Naomi asked gently, coming up behind her and hugging her tightly.

"Peter."

Naomi hummed, a sign that she was waiting for Y/n to lead the conversation so she could follow because if it were up to Naomi, she would immediately start trash-talking Peter and she wasn't sure if that was the vibe right now or not.

Y/n shook her head in disbelief as she jumped up to sit on the counter. "He got so mad when he found out I slept over at Karl's."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I wish you would just cut him off completely."

"I don't know. I know I should but... part of me wonders if he could ever go back to how he was when I met him. I would probably date that guy again but not who he turned out to be."

Naomi looked horrified. "No. You sound like you're considering hearing him out. No, is that a joke? He's a bad person."

"I'm not," Y/n reassured. "I'm just thinking hypothetically. Probably because I miss having someone..."

"Y/n, you have a ton of thirsty people in your mentions. If you really want someone that bad, just scroll through, land on one and I bet they're a million times better than that sack of burned potatoes."

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled lightly. "Most of those are jokes."

"Not all of them," she teased.

"I know you're going to tell me anyway so just say it. Who specifically do you think isn't joking?"

"Dream," Naomi sang.

"Okay, crazy." Y/n reached over, staying seated on the counter as she grabbed a bowl from a cabinet on her left. She then leaned all the way right, reaching as far as she could, but couldn't quite grab a cereal box from the top of the refrigerator.

Naomi rolled her eyes as she helped, handing Y/n the box. She even went the extra step to get Y/n a spoon and the milk because she was that nice. "I'm not joking. Neither is he. Karl and I have talked about it and we both agree."

Y/n paused at her friend's words, her hand hovering over the milk that Naomi held out for her. "You guys gossip about my love life?"

Naomi set the milk next to Y/n, tired of holding it out for her. "Of course? Like we don't do that about Karl? Or you and him about me?"

She couldn't argue there.

"Karl says there's a different vibe from Dream when you join calls and I believe it. I mean, I've seen it during streams myself so I can only imagine how much more obviously in love with you he is during private calls.

"That 'vibe' is Karl's delusional mind creating things. He's too scared to talk to cameragirl so he's projecting onto Dream and I."

"Yeah, okay," Naomi agreed sarcastically.

Y/n huffed. "Besides, he's in Florida. I'm in North Carolina, in case you weren't aware."

"So you're saying if you lived in the same state, you'd date him?"

"I didn't say that." She honestly had never thought of it. Sure she liked hanging out with Dream and her stomach got butterflies when he talked directly to her and he made her smile harder than anyone ever had and he—

And she didn't like him like that. She had only officially met the guy like a week and a half ago and she didn't know what he looked like. There was no way you could catch feelings for someone without seeing them.

Naomi's expression fell again. "Distance doesn't matter, anyway."

"I swear if you say something about George I will slap you," she threatened through a smile and Naomi gave her an innocent grin back.

"If you're lonely, get on Tinder, not Peter. Or get on Dream. I have no qualms with that."

"Peter isn't even an option, Naomi." Y/n sighed, ignoring the comment about Dream.  "Also," she swallowed the last of her cereal and set the bowl down with a clank. "I'm gonna tell Peter I don't want to be friends anymore. Dream and George can be added to the list of Peter haters."

"You talked to them about it?"

She nodded. "You know how I have little gossip sessions with George? Well, Dream was there too this time."

"Well, of course Dream would hate Peter. We've established that he likes you."

"No, no, you and Karl delusionally hypothesized that."

Naomi tapped the counter methodically, a sign Y/n knew to signal that she was thinking hard. "Somehow, one day, I'll prove he does."

"Good luck."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

"Yes," Y/n perked up. "Go pick something, I'll get blankets."

She went to her room, grabbing her favorite cuddling blankets. She started leaving her room when she heard a ding on her open desktop, signaling that she had a call incoming from Discord. Cool timing.

"I'll be just a second, Naomi!" she called across the house before dropping the blankets on her bed and sliding her headset on, answering the call from Dream. "Hi, Dream!" She sat on her chair and tucked her knees to her chest.

"Hi," he greeted sweetly. "How are you doing today?"

"Much better than when we last talked. How are you?"

"Great now that I'm talking to you," he said smoothly. Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. "Are you busy?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My roommate and I are about to watch a movie."

"Ooh, what movie?"

"Not sure yet. Any suggestions?"

"Dark Knight. Unless you wanted me to say, like, Tangled or something."

"Yeah, girls' night is exclusively princess movies. Do you know nothing?"

"Apparently," he said with a laugh.

"What's up?"

"Oh, well, I was just gonna see if you wanted to be on call later with me, George, and Sapnap while I stream speedruns, but you're hanging out with your roommate so nevermind."

"Oh," Y/n deflated. "That sounds fun."

"I can push it back if you want to be part of it. If not, that's fine. I just thought it would be cool."

"No, no, no I really do want to, but I don't want you to have to push it back. When were you planning on starting?"

"In about an hour."

"I'll just join later if you're still playing. If that's okay that I come late."

"No. You have to be on time or not at all," he joked. "Of course that's fine," he assured. "And if I'm not playing anymore, you can still join... we usually talk for forever after we play games and it's fun. I would, er, we would love for you to hang out with us."

Y/n couldn't help the large smile on her face from staying even after they hung up and she walked back into the living room with her pile of blankets. She couldn't help it even when Naomi pointed it out and asked why she was so happy.

"Oh, uh, I've been invited to join Dream and them later for a stream."

"That vague answer doesn't warrant the shit-eating grin you have."

Y/n shrugged and cuddled more into her blankets. "What movie did you pick?"

*****

As the end credits rolled across the screen, Y/n yawned and looked over to Naomi in the dark. She was out like a light. Y/n stood up and made sure Naomi was covered in the blanket and she had a pillow. She crept back to her room and slid her headphones on, pulling up Discord where she saw the three boys' names still in a voice call.

She pulled up Twitch on her second monitor and looked for Dream's stream. It was already about an hour in. She clicked on it and her headphones echoed with the sound of George and Sapnap laughing like they said the funniest thing in the world.

"Shut up," Dream muttered. "Guys, what were the coords for the portal? Seriously, come on."

"Nobody tell him," George joked.

"George!"

"Where's Bugsyyyy?" Sapnap whined. "I want her to make fun of you with us."

"Half the stuff we're making fun of him for is about his big fat crush on her so..."

"George!" Dream yelled again. "No, it's not!"

Y/n smiled as she heard that, knowing it was a joke but laughing at the way Dream laughed at the accusation. She knew it wasn't serious or else they wouldn't talk about it on stream. George and Sapnap teased a lot, but certainly, they wouldn't out someone's crush in front of a hundred thousand viewers live.

"Oh!" Sapnap spoke out loud as George laughed loudly, both reading the text at the same time. "Speaking of..."

Dream waited for either of the two boys to elaborate but neither of them offered one. "What happened?"

"Bugsy texted us," George said off-handedly, typing a response to her. "She's coming in a second."

"Oh."

"What do you mean 'oh'?" Sapnap laughed.

"You guys have a groupchat?"

"Aw, jealous?" George asked.

Y/n joined at that moment, the first sentence coming from her Discord instead of Twitch being from Sapnap saying, "Would it make you more jealous to know our group name is Bugsy's Boys?"

"No, Sapnap, that's the one with Karl," George corrected. "The one with just you, me, and her is Bugsy's Boyfriends."

"WhAT?"

"I still don't approve of that, by the way," Y/n commented.

"Bugsy!!" Sapnap giggled happily. "You're finally here!"

"BUGSY!" George cheered.

"Hi guys!" Y/n laughed at the enthusiasm she was greeted with. "Hi, Dream!"

There was a few seconds of silence before, "Dream!!" George yelled right before the death screen appeared on the Twitch tab still opened on Y/n's right screen. "You idiot, what are you doing?! Why did you throw that run??"

She covered her mouth with the hoodie collar and laughed. "Off to a great start, bud."

"NO!" Dream yelled, knocking something, or somethings, off his desk. "Noooo! I didn't throw it, George, I FELL! Oh, that was going to be such a good run."

"What happened? How did you miss that huge ravine?" George asked while laughing. "It was literally right in the open. You didn't even try to use your water bucket."

"I-I was... I was distracted."

"By what? The completely open field with nothing blocking your vision?" Sapnap criticized with a laugh as well.

Y/n giggled to herself before letting her eyes trail to his chat, which was filled with the same accusations and guesses.

user5: BUGSY!

user2: DISTRACTED BY BUGSYS VOICE

user4: imagine saying hi so cutely that you make a man fall into a ravine

user1: are they dumb? obviously bugsy saying hi made his brain short-circut

user6: guys stop it wasn't bc she said hi. it was the g i g g l e

user3: DISTRACTED BY BUGSY!!!!

user8: HI BUGSY

user10: how to kill a man: hire bugsy to giggle and say hi directly to him

Y/n immediately blushed and covered her face again. She really had a habit of hiding even when no one could see her.

"Oh my gosh," Dream groaned, leaving the world and starting a new one. "Oh. My. Gosh. That's so annoying. I was doing so good."

"Oh," Sapnap laughed. "I understand now."

"What? What did I miss?" George asked.

"Just read chat," Sapnap explained. "They have the answer. Dream, your chat is so smart. Thanks for solving the mystery, chat!"

"No, they aren't ri— that isn't true!" Dream defended. "Chat, shut up."

"You sure?" Y/n asked teasingly, watching as his character paused when she started talking. Was she really making him this flustered just by talking? Surely not. He was just playing into the joke. He continued playing without saying anything, which made George and Sapnap laugh more.

The subject eventually changed and the atmosphere quickly became more relaxed and chill. Tonight was not a feral night like George had texted in all caps.

"Hey George," Y/n started, biting on her hoodie string with a smile because she knew Naomi would hear this when she watched the VOD the next day. "My roommate says hello."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered, making her laugh. "Let it go."

"Wow, I guess that's one way to treat your fans..."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell her I say hello."

"Well, not if you don't mean it," Y/n teased.

"Yeah, George, you sound so unenthusiastic?" Sapnap asked.

"He's just flustered," Dream commented. "It's okay George, you can have feelings."

"Dream, you fell into a ravine because Bugsy said hi."

"Oh, come on! That's not—I just— I missed the jump! That's it!"

"I'm not flustered or unenthusiastic, I'm just tired, okay?" George explained, ignoring Dream, a yawn spilling out of him to prove it.

Y/n smiled. "Well, you could always let me give her your number if you really want..."

"No. If she had Discord you could give her that but not my phone number."

"Wait, really?" Y/n gasped. "Seriously?"

George laughed lightly. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"YES! Okay, a huge win for the girls. Well, a huge loss for the fangirls but a huge win for the girls of this apartment."

"Oh my gosh," he muttered and she could practically see him rubbing his face in embarrassment.

"I'll send you her hashtag when she makes one so you know who to add back."

"She's going to make an account just to talk to George?" Sapnap giggled.

"Yes, dude!" Y/n defended. "She at least wants to be his friend, let her shoot her shot!"

Dream ended the steam soon after, not being able to focus enough to beat the end on any of his runs. He had streamed for just under two hours so he seemed to be getting tired as well. George went to bed soon after and after 20 minutes of talking with Sapnap and Dream, Sapnap mysteriously disappeared.

Y/n was about to leave as well, not wanting Dream to feel obligated to stay on the call with her when he spoke up.

"Does Naomi actually like George?"

"Yeah, she does."

"Then I want him to accept her love."

Y/n laughed. "How is he with long-distance relationships?"

"Well, he and I do just fine..." Dream joked. "Oh, not what you meant. I don't know, you guys are the ones that talk about each other's love lives apparently."

"You're still bitter about that?"

"Yes!"

"Suck it up," she laughed. "Naomi would do probably anything to date him so I doubt distance is a problem for her."

"George's sleep schedule is completely messed up, so the time difference wouldn't matter too much. And when he comes to America they can meet in person."

"Wait, he's coming to America?" Y/n gasped happily. "When?"

"There's no set date, but yeah eventually. He'll probably just come to Florida but we've all talked about having a huge meetup with a lot of our friends."

"Oh... cool..."

"Bug? You know you'd be invited to that, right?"

"Oh, really?" she smiled.

"Of course. You're part of the group now."

"Sick," she muttered to herself, but he heard.

"Bug, you're one of my favorite people, do you know that?"

She blushed. "Really?"

"Really."

"You barely know me, Dream."

"Yeah, well, I know enough to know that I'm sorta attached to you."

"Attached to me? In what way?"

He suddenly sounded nervous as if his brain caught up with what his mouth was saying. "I don't know, nevermind."

"No, Dream, what do you mean?" her voice was soft and understanding and it made him feel safe.

"I just... I don't know. I care about you a lot. We met only, what, like a week or two ago, and I already worry about you a lot. Playing games doesn't feel the same anymore unless you're playing with us."

"To be fair, we have been tweeting at each other for much longer than a week or two."

"Yeah, that's true. But it's not the same as actually talking to you."

She smiled shyly. "I care about you a lot too, Clay." His name sounded strange as if it suddenly made everything much more serious. "Sorry, that just kinda slipped. I won't call you Clay if you don't want me to—"

"No, it's okay, it, uh, I like hearing you... say it. But, uh, you can call me whatever you want."

She smiled widely at the nervousness in his voice and the hard pounding of her heart. "I've heard from multiple people that you never stop talking about me."

He laughed timidly. "Maybe. Do you talk about me?"

"Ask Karl," she giggled. "My guess is yes." Her stomach felt tingly and her hands shook lightly. Why did she feel like this all of a sudden? It was late, she reasoned. That, or it was because Naomi had planted the seed of curiosity in her mind. Did Dream like her? No... right?

"I'm sorry if my chat was making you uncomfortable at the beginning when I died..."

"Don't worry, I wasn't uncomfortable."

"It was true, by the way," he paused, "what they were saying. Just... in case you were wondering."

Y/n couldn't wipe the smile off her face, which was growing painful at this point. "What, my voice makes your brain short-circut? That was one comment I saw."

Dream laughed. "More like your entire presence, but... yeah I guess so."

How is someone supposed to respond to something like that? The sweetness in his voice almost made her sick but in a good way.

And just like when he named her Minecraft flower something sweet knowing that no one would see it, why was he still playing up the joke when no one was around?

Not knowing what to say, she decided to let him in on a little secret. "If it matters, you're one of my favorite people too."

"It does."

There was a deathly moment of tense silence as if both of them were screaming to say something but neither did.

"Basically, if we do have a meet-up, I'll sue you if you don't come."

Y/n laughed. "My pockets are empty, sir, so... good luck."

He laughed and it was music to her ears.

"Are you not nervous to show everyone your face? Like, if or when we do all get together."

"Not really. Especially not if it's just to our friends. Are you?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I'm sure people have me painted in a specific way in their heads and I've seen fanart of me that is way different and way more attractive than I am. I just don't want to let anyone down by not living up to their expectations."

"Bug," Dream said softly, "you couldn't let anyone down."

"You don't know that."

"You can't disappoint real friends or real fans with the way you look."

"To be clear, Dream," she laughed nervously, afraid she would sound conceited, "I don't think I'm ugly. I like the way I look. I'm happy with me. But that doesn't mean I can't still let people down."

"Different than expected doesn't mean disappointing."

His words smacked her in the gut. He was right. Reality and imagination are very different. Neither has to be better or worse than the other. She could look the complete opposite of how someone expects but that doesn't mean they will be either disappointed OR pleased. And why does it matter anyway? If she likes how she looks, who cares what other people think?

"It's also scary to think of getting recognized in public," she admitted. "Being recognized from the start is one thing because it starts off slowly with only a few people knowing your face but if the first time people see your face is when you have millions of fans, the recognition would be overwhelming."

"That's true. I don't think I would mind that much, though."

"Of course not, you're you."

"What does that mean?"

"You like the spotlight."

"I guess. Not all the time."

"Well, what about you?" she asked. "Are you afraid of people knowing what you look like?"

"No. I want to do a face reveal soon but I don't know how I would do it. I want to do it at some kind of event or something but I don't know."

"I need to schedule around when you do it because you'll break the internet. Give us content creators a warning so we can prepare to not get viewers for a week."

Dream laughed. "Oh come on."

"Twitter would just be full of the same picture of you in every single tweet."

"It won't be that big of a deal."

"Something tells me your millions and millions of subs say otherwise."

"Whatever," he said. "As if you wouldn't break the internet too."

"Maybe for a day or two. But you'd break everything for weeks."

"Sure." There was a long pause before Dream softly said, "Karl's lucky."

"How so?"

He didn't speak for a moment, almost like he wasn't prepared for that question because he didn't mean to be heard. "I wish I could know you the way he does."

"You could. He and I knew each other in person first so it's different. You and I could get there eventually."

"You think so?"

"I know so. I trust you a scary amount for someone I met weeks ago."

"I didn't mean to sound like I'm trying to pressure you into showing me your face or telling me your name. I didn't mean like he gets to know what you look like and I don't. I meant, like, I wish we could hang out in person because I prefer that over talking in Discord."

"I get it, Clay. I feel the same way," Y/n said softly. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.

"Oh, gosh, it's already four."

Y/n's head snapped to look at her clock, which read 3:57am. "Already?" she whispered. "Dang."

As if acknowledging the time changed the atmosphere, it suddenly felt like 4am. Her back ached from her shifting in her chair so much over the last few hours, never being able to find a good position. The house was eerily quiet and all she heard was the low hum of the heater. The house felt stale, not used to its occupants being so alert and awake at that hour.

"I should probably go to bed..."

"Yeah, me too," Dream agreed. His voice sounded tired. "Thanks for joining us, it was really fun with you."

"Thanks for inviting me. Sorry I made you die. Hopefully you'll still let me back again."

"You're always invited to barge into my streams. Actually."

Y/n giggled again and mentally slapped herself for sounding like a little kid. "Well, you too. You can interrupt my streams anytime."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Goodnight, Clay."

"Goodnight, Bug."

**********

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[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | one

he is more a shrew than she

penelope reveals her plan to get you and spencer together. unfortunately, her plan has a few hitches. 

A/N: again, big thanks to @homoose for being my helpful beta reader, and to YOU for reading it now. 

category: fluff, spencer reid x fem!reader, series

wc: 4.1k

<- prev | next ->

Penelope came back to your place the following night, bearing a new bottle of wine and a collection of materials she mentioned were integral to executing the plan.

Very quickly into Penelope’s explanation of this Genius Plan –– her words, not yours –– you remembered what it was she did for work. Officially, she was some sort of technical computer-y person for the Federal Bureau. As you knew her, she’s a danger to society and anyone with a traceable digital presence.

She managed to construct a comprehensive list of every place in D.C. and Virginia that her friend liked going to, along with the approximate times in which you were most likely to find him there. Approximate meaning, exactly which days he visits and the roughly time of day, down to a mere one hour margin of error.

You scanned the list over, shocked at its detail. Where he cut his hair, got his coffee, bought his books. His favorite restaurants, the chess clubs he’s a member of, his local hospital.

His local hospital?!

“I’m not going to need to know that, am I?” you paused.

“Probably not, but it comes in handy with this job,” she shrugged with a nonchalance that was rather alarming.

There had to be a dozen more places on the sheet –– ranked, in order of his (assumed) preference for them. Penelope calculated it based on the frequency of his visits, their average duration per session, and how often he’d mentioned about the place.

“What?” she tossed her palms up, taking offense when you asked her if she had evil plans to take over the tristate area. “Hang out with him long enough, you tell me if you pick up a knack for researching or not.”

Researching. Mining private data through questionable methods. It’s a small difference to Penelope.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side, Penelope,” you muttered under your breath, flipping the sheet back and forth. “You could ruin my whole life with ten minutes on a computer.”

“I wanted to be thorough,” she defended, shrugging. “And I’d only need five.”

You laughed through your nose, giving the paper one last scan. “You left out one important thing, though.”

“No, I put his home address on there,” her brows wrinkled together as she pointed it out on the sheet with one hot pink polished finger.

“His name,” you berated. “Jesus, you think I’m going to show up at his home?!”

“Again! I’m thorough,” she cried at your accusatory tone. “His name’s Spencer. You’ll like him when you meet him.” 

_

You didn’t doubt that Penelope’s friend was a likeable guy, but you weren’t exactly dying to go out of your way to meet him. You told her that you’d get around to it when you had a chance and left it at that.

And two weeks later, you found yourself in need of a caffeine fix that your tea kettle wasn’t strong enough to satisfy. You started on a new piece late the previous night, and midnight rolled into four in the morning, which pushed you into the arms of seven o’clock. Reinforcements were needed.

Throwing on a large sweater to cover up your messy clothes and grabbing the closest pair of shoes you could find, you originally planned on heading to your usual spot just around your street corner. Just as you were leaving, the list, still sitting untouched in the exact spot that Penelope left it in, caught your eye.

It’d been a while since you told Penelope you’d help her out. Enough time had passed that you now felt like there was an invisible deadline over your head.

Maybe it won’t hurt to try something new?

Besides, meeting someone at a coffee shop seemed like an easy, foolproof way to go about this. From all the movies and romance novels, you knew that cafes are the pinnacle of meet-cute situations. Or, in your case, a meet-forced.

Regardless, it should’ve been simple enough, and it would’ve gotten the favor off your shoulder.

You scanned the sheet for the cafe Spencer would be at on a Thursday at 8 a.m., and got there with barely five minutes to spare before he was expected to show.

It was just your luck that he had to pick a cafe practically as far from your home as he could get, and the transfer train had to have a delay that made you walk the last three-quarters of a mile there. Call it crazy, but you didn’t expect to actually have to put in work for this. You expected it better be worth the hassle.

You took a seat in the back of the cafe to catch your breath as you waited for him to show up. Sitting in the booth, with your head down so you coudn’t be seen, the plan started to feel stupid all over again. You were running around the city, spying on this stranger, and for what?

The silver bell hung over the door frame interrupted before your thoughts could travel down that path of questioning. It rang each time a new patron enters, and within the next twenty minutes it rang only eight or nine times. None of them appeared to be Spencer.

You were prepared to call this one a failure and leave, when you realized your colossal mistake. You only had his name, and no idea what he looks like. So unless he happened to wear a name tag around you could’ve already missed him. You realized then that there were more than a few flaws in this plan.

Keeping an eye on the door, you dialed Penelope’s contact as a swarm of new patrons flooded in.

“How am I supposed to know what he looks like?” you whispered into the phone, failing to cover it with a hand cupped over the speaker. Penelope was confused for only a second by the apparent lack of context.

“Oh! He’s tall, has mousy brown hair but he cut it recently. It’s like… missing on the sides, but it’s all there in the front!” she explained.

What the hell does she mean missing?

“Pen, brunette? That’s like all the guys in here…” You took a look around the full cafe; various men typing on computers, taking calls. All of them looked the same, from their brown hair to their khakis and puffer coats. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than brown hair.”

Penelope struggled to explain and with each new feature she gave you, your mental picture of him got more clouded. “He’s skinny! Dresses like a vintage teddy bear!”

“Does he have kind of like… a hot English teacher vibe?” you quirked your head, spying a man approaching from the sidewalk and drinking him in with your eyes. Tall, brunette, clad in corduroy head to toe with a plaid sweater vest underneath. Vintage Teddy Bear F/W 1978 collection.

“Yes! He teaches sometimes! And you think he’s hot?”

Your mouth gaped even though she couldn’t see you. “No, I - I didn’t say that. I said he had the vibes of a hot teacher.”

“And how different is that from saying he’s––”

“Pen, I gotta go. Your guy’s walking in.” You put the phone away before she could pick apart what you said.

The bell on the front door rang as he came in and you stared intently at his face. If this was like the movies, he’d turn his head right then, at the perfect time, and make eye contact. He’d fall madly in love from the first look, and your work would be done. You sat at the edge of your seat, burning holes into his skull, waiting for that moment.

But alas, he never looked up from the linoleum flooring as he walked up to the counter. With a groan, you slid out of your booth and quickly hopped into the line before anyone else could claim the spot behind him.

New plan: eavesdrop, order the same coffee as him, and pretend to go for the cup at the same time. Laugh about the coincidence, how if you share the same coffee order you must certainly have a lot in common, and have him fall in love with you.

But you overheard him rattle off his order and were absolutely horrified. Black coffee, extra sugar. Like, extra, extra sugar.

You were going to need a second change of plans.

You eyed him up and down, searching for something you could approach him about. He was donning black converse under a fitted pair of dark brown corduroy trousers, with a blazer to match, and a deep green plaid vest underneath. On paper, this outfit shouldn’t work. In practice, it… really did.

A little too well, given how good he looks in it. More fashionable than a federal agent ought to be as required by dress codes, right?

“Can I help you?” you heard, and it poked the bubble of your thoughts. Your head shot up to meet his for the first time, eyes wide as heat crawled up your face.

“Uh. No ––” Shit. You didn’t even realize how long you were staring at his legs. Long, long legs. And shit, why did you say no? That was your opening to talk to him.

The man –– Spencer –– nodded his head slowly, uncomfortably, and turned away with a forced grin. He grabbed the coffee cup placed on the counter and you thought now was the time to say something. But by the time you thought of it, he’d already picked up his cup and made his way to the door.

The stupid silver bell mocked you as he left.

__

The first attempt left you slightly jilted, but a few days later you found yourself in need of a few grocery items. You just happened to be in his neighborhood that day, and though it was very much out of the way of your own, you didn’t plan on it being a problem. He’d never see where you lived anyways, and he’d never need to know how unlikely this chance encounter really was.

You had Penelope text you the address of his regular grocery store, and upon arrival, felt immediate concern. It was not a grocery store. It was a convenience mart slash liquor store at the corner of the street, below a building of worn apartments.

As you walked through the aisles, the only things you found were a large assortment of wines that took up half the small store space, an aisle of candy packets and chips, a section for household supplies, and one measly aisle for canned and boxed foods.

Cereal, instant noodles, soup cans, pancake mix… nothing very fresh.

Spencer seemed like a pretty scrawny guy. You now believed it might’ve been from the fact that his food choices were so off-putting that he simply didn’t eat. It wasn’t your place to be concerned, but you decided that if you ever ended up taking him out, a farmer’s market might be good for him.

You loitered around for perhaps longer than necessary. The inquisitive shop attendant asked if you need help –– as in, why are you still here, get out of my store –– and you told her you were just really conflicted on which detergent brand you needed. Finally, the man you were after arrived at the scene.

“Hi, Dolores,” he greete with a small wave. The attendant, Dolores, greets back with a positivity that she sorely lacked when talking to you. Dolores has favorites, apparently.

An unexpected panic settled in your stomach and you quickly turned back to your selection of fabric softeners. You weren’t hiding, you just didn’t want him to catch you staring again. You picked up your two props, pretending to read the labels on the back and compare the chemical formulas on each of them, when you saw him out of the corner of your eyes.

He went into the aisle in front of yours, and over the short shelves you saw the back of his head sweeping over the modest food section. He turned around to inspect the other side of the aisle, and you ducked your head even lower. It was in vain. He spotted you anyway.

You fixed your eyes even harder onto the bottles, afraid to look anywhere else. He shuffled out of his aisle and turned the corner into yours. You started sweating a little.

“Uhm. Excuse me,” he said.

“Yeah?” You looked up from your bottles, putting on your best caught-off-guard face. Like you were a girl in a movie, reading a book on the beach (not detergent labels in a liquor store) and your romantic interest just noticed how beautiful you looked doing it, deciding he had to introduce himself.

“Can you… can you move…” he asked, gesturing to the section of cleaners that you’re blocking.

Never mind.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” You burned up, moving out of his way. He reached for what he needed and you peeked down to inspect the contents of his basket. Organic whole wheat bread, cream of mushroom soup, and somehow, he’d managed to find the only two apples this place must carry. At least there was light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel.

He tossed a bottle of Snuggle fabric softener and you raised your brows. Given that he was “grocery shopping’’ in a three-piece suit –– a good one, too, black trousers, vest and blazer with an eggplant purple shirt and lavender tie –– you would’ve expected him to simply send his clothes out for dry cleaning.

“Snuggle, huh?” you said. He gave you a confused look. “Oh, uh. I was looking at these. Couldn’t pick between the two.” You raised your two bottles of softener; Snuggle and Tide.

You needed him to know you weren’t just saying Snuggle to insinuate that you would like to do that to him. You remembered Penelope telling you he had a degree in chemistry or some sort of science field, and asked, “Is… is that one like, more organic? I was trying to read the formulas but I don’t… I don’t recognize the chemicals,” you trailed off. You could see yourself losing his interest the more you spoke. He barely looked at you as he grabbed whatever else he needed.

“I don’t know… I just like it,” he bristled. You looked down at the bottle and flipped it over to the front. It had a drawing of a teddy bear on it. How fitting.

You go to comment on it but yet again he’d made an escape, already at the checkout counter and unloading his basket by the time you looked up again. You rolled your eyes, wondering if it’s even worth it to follow him into line and see if he sparks up a conversation this time.

You could tell that he wouldn’t. So you gave him the space to buy his items and leave.

You didn’t really need the detergent, but Dolores gave you a pointed look before you could even think about putting it back on the shelf. You ended up buying the detergent, a loaf of bread, and two packets of sweets out of guilt.

As you took the train home, digging into your packet of sour peach rings, you began to doubt if you can carry out Penelope’s request.

_

After two failed attempts, you were prepared to tell Penelope that this just wasn’t going to work out. You didn’t expect it to be this difficult to talk to Spencer nor did you see yourself getting closer to him anytime soon. It would be best if she just found someone else to do it.

You caught her in the hallway, leaving her apartment just as you came home from the store. It seemed like as good of a time as any to let her know how unsuccessful your escapades were going. With your tail between your legs, you approached her with the intention of breaking the plan off.

But the second she saw you, it was like she could read through you. She clocked what you were about to say and before you could, she gave you a warm hug. It was the first one you’d ever received from her, actually. And she thanked you for trying.

It didn’t make you feel guilty, per se, but it definitely made you feel weird about telling her the news. So you bit back on telling her what you were really going to say. She didn’t need to know the details of your failure, or the fact that you were seconds away from giving up on her friend.

Maybe you didn’t need to give up right away.

After all, you did only talk to the guy twice. Don’t they always say the third time’s the charm?

You left the conversation at just that –– letting her know that you’re happy to do this for her, even if you aren’t really –– and slinked back into your apartment. The list, buried under the magazines and paint tubes and half-full cups of cold coffee on your table, called for you.

If by any stroke of luck you happened to share one interest with this guy, you promised yourself to give it one more try.

According to the list, that overlapping interest was the wonderful world of Gatsby Books –– a small, locally owned bookstore residing in the heart of D.C. ’s arts district. That neighborhood was smack in the middle of your’s and Spencer’s, and it was where the gallery you showcase at was.

You’d been meaning to get down there for a while now, anyways. It really was the cutest bookstore in the world; inside it lived a white, bushy-furred cat named Gatsby, and he was always there. After all, it was his bookstore.

It wasn’t such a burden to make your visit fit Spencer’s schedule, really. And it would make Penelope happy if you did. So on Saturday afternoon, you took a lovely walk through the sunny arts district of D.C., a smile on your face and a tote in hand for all the books you were planning on hauling back.

The smell of paper and coffee greeted your nose at the door, and you practically fell into a trance, letting it lead you through the aisles of the store without much thought of where you wandered. Not that it mattered, you could’ve roamed the shelves aimlessly all day long.

In the mystery and thrillers section, you found Gatsby. He jumped down from his perch on a step stool and weaved between your legs, greeting one of his long-time regulars. He was such a good shop owner.

“Hi, Mr. Gatsby.” You smiled and bent down to give him a little head scratch when he started running off in the other direction, taunting you into following him.

He rounded the corner and came to a stop at a pair of boot-clad feet; your eyes moved up to find your favorite employee (after Gatsby, of course) restocking the shelves.

“Miles!” you whispered, but he still jumped out of his skin. He turned around, hand still over his chest, and sighed when he realized it was just you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you laughed.

“Hey, long time, no see. Back for some more recommendations?” You ‘ooh’ed at his offer.

“I was just gonna say, the ones you gave me last time were so good. I finished them in, like, a week.”

“Really?” He smiled, brows happily up his forehead. You nodded in assent. “Okay, well I’ll give you more this time, see if the list’ll last you a little longer than that.”

You grinned eagerly, following him to the shop counter where he pulled out a stack of bright green post-its and a pen.

“I’ve actually been waiting for you to come in, I already had these in mind for you,” he mumbled, scrawling across the paper quickly. He handed the note over, and it took a moment to decipher the chicken scratches.

“Okay, first you gave me Al-Shayk and Bradbury. Now you’re giving me Chaucer, Dickens, and Doyle,” you recited the note, giving him a teasing look. “Are we just going through the alphabet, Miles?” you joked.

“Honest mistake. But I’d be happy to give you all the other twenty-two letters of the alphabet if needed.”

“I might hold you to that.” You nodded, folding the post-it in your palm to prevent the sticky backing from gunking up. It’d make quite the good bookmark for later. “Thanks for these!”

“No problem, just a part of the job.”

Nonetheless, you thanked him again before disappearing back into the aisles. You found Miles’ books as well as a few of your own and nearly lost yourself in the rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, until you made a turn. Standing in the middle of the next aisle was Spencer.

A week ago, he was the whole point of coming to the store. That day, you completely forgot about it, and it stopped you in your tracks to see him there. He was just standing in the middle of the walkway, staring blankly at the shelf in front of him.

“Excuse me,” you grinned, “Could you move?”

You thought it was a cute reference back to the laundry detergent fiasco, a chance for you to turn the tables, but he had no reaction to it whatsoever. His face was straight as he merely pivoted his shoulder out of your way as you reached for the book you needed; The Narrative of John Smith.

His eyes narrowed at you and his nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was called for because you grabbed the last copy they had in stock.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want this?” you asked, waving the book in his face. He was just standing there for so long, you didn’t think he actually wanted anything since he never picked it up.

“No,” he said coldly.

Contrary to Penelope’s review, he didn’t actually seem that warm of a person. But you smiled tightly at him, letting a forced laugh fill the stale air.

“I… I swear I’m not stalking you,” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. Technically it was a bit of a lie, but he didn’t need to know. It’s just something people say when they have the happy coincidence of running into a stranger so often.

“What did you say to me?” he bit. His tone was sharper than you felt like this conversation deserves.

“I mean, I’ve just been seeing you around a lot… it was, like, a joke? Like, ‘ahh watch out, I’m stalking you!’ you know?” With each second he stared you down, you felt your throat dry out, getting more flustered as you felt the need to over explain yourself.

“Maybe you should work on your comedy routine,” he barked, his voice just faintly cracking. He shoulder-checked you as he rushed out of the store in long strides and a brisk pace.

What in the absolute fuck.

You couldn’t stay in the shop for another minute. You dropped your stack of books at the counter with Miles, giving him a rushed apology for leaving them behind as you stormed out of the shop and headed in the opposite direction of where Spencer ran off to.

The air outside was now frosty as the sun disappeared behind the horizon; the wind nipped at your hot cheeks as you charged home. There weren’t enough words to quantify the anger you felt. Your mind ran rampant with how much you now hated this man.

Not only did he bite your head off for no good reason, but he publicly embarrassed you at your favorite place and had gone so far as to bruise your shoulder to make a point. And you know what? If he really wanted you out of his way, you were more than happy to leave him the hell alone for the rest of your life.

You reached into your jacket pocket for your phone and dialed Penelope.

“Hey! How are––” she cheered.

“It’s off.”

“What?”

“It’s off. I’m not dating your fucking friend.”

“What happened? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding––” she started in a panic. She pleaded that you overlook whatever went wrong and promised that she’d have a talk with Spencer about it. She’d try to encourage him into the direction that you need.

None of that registered in your brain, hot blood filling your ears instead of her words.

“He’s a fucking ass,” you spat. “The more I see of him, the less I like him, and… I’m pretty sure we’d rather kill each other than date at this point. So yeah, I’m done.”

☆

☆

☆

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[electricbarnes]

tell me you still see me

steve rogers x reader

summary: steve has been working a lot lately. you begin to have doubts about your relationship.

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration 

wc: 5.9k | warnings: some angst, overthinking, self-doubt, implied smut 

note: this is a repost from my old account that was deleted. so if it’s familiar, that’s why! i wasn’t planning on reposting but i read it over and decided why not. i have another steve fic that i’m almost done with, so i wanted to post this in the meantime. i made a few minor edits. i hope you like it! and if you decide to reread it, thank you x1000 !!

You arrive at your apartment, hands filled with groceries for the week. You struggle to open the door with the many bags on your arms, but eventually make it inside. You kick off your heels and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. After freeing your hands, you reach into your purse to find your phone. You unlock it and tap on the first name at the top of your recent calls.

The phone rings for a bit before you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice saying “Hello”.

“Oh my god Steve, you’re never gonna believe what I saw at the store just now,” you say, thinking of the wild thing you witnessed during your shopping trip. It’s not everyday that you see someone throw themselves into a cereal box display. It was a hilarious sight and you just wanted to tell someone about it.

“So, I was just strolling through the isles looking for some snacks when a-” you’re cut off before getting too into the story.

“Honey, can this wait? I’m about to go into a mission briefing,” Steve says in a hushed tone. Immediately, you feel guilty for interrupting him while he’s busy. It was well into the evening and you had assumed he wouldn’t be working.  

“Oh, uh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” you apologize.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, talk to you later then.”

The phone beeps, indicating the call was over. You sigh and go back to the task of putting your groceries away.

You decide to lounge around the rest of the day, trading your work clothes for some comfy sweats and a tee shirt. You spend the night mindlessly scrolling through social media while reruns of some sitcom play on the tv. You even send Steve a few memes here and there. You’re not really sure if he’ll understand them but they reminded you of him.

After eating a late dinner, you channel surf for a bit before putting on a random movie. When the movie finishes, it’s nearly 11pm and you realize that Steve hasn’t called you back. You pick up your phone, tempted to call him but decide it’s better to wait till tomorrow. He hasn’t replied to your texts, so there’s a chance he’s still busy despite the late hour.

Unfortunately for you, being a superhero is a full time job, which means that Steve can be busy at any moment of any day. You knew this going into a relationship with thee Captain America. To be fair though, you didn’t think you’d actually get to know the super soldier like you do now.  

When you met Steve, he was just some handsome guy at the park who helped you with directions when you were visibly lost. You ended up seeing him at the park again a couple days later. Recognizing you, he stopped and asked if you wanted to get a coffee. Who were you to deny this man?

You spent two hours in a café getting to know each other before exchanging numbers. In hindsight, his vague answers about his career were a little suspicious. It wasn’t until you went home that night and saw a picture of Steve in a tweet captioned “idc that captain america is like 100 yrs old, he can still get it 😍”.

Needless to say, you were shocked. While you were feeling dumb for not recognizing him sooner, you also wondered why he didn’t say anything. After an awkward confrontation about the subject, he explained how he didn’t want you to go out with him just because he was Captain America. You were quick to ease his worries and reassure him that you were interested in Steve for Steve, not for his heroic persona.

Since then, your relationship with Steve has been nothing but amazing. He was always so sweet with you, taking you on simple but romantic dates. There was something about that 40s charm that was so endearing. You loved the small things, like how he would always open the door for you or how he would bring you flowers on each date. It was so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. You felt like he was not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend.

There were times where you wondered why he ever picked you, an average person compared to the super people he’d work with everyday. He could’ve had anyone he wanted. Steve would say that you were like his sanctuary from the hectic world of being an Avenger. It meant a lot to you that you could be that person for him. You thought he deserved some peace after everything he’s been through. He wanted to protect you from the evil that inherently came with the job, which you understood, so he rarely spoke about the missions he’d go on. The less you knew the better. Though sometimes, you would wish he’d open up more about what was going on while he was away. Especially since he would be gone for days on end.

It was only a month into your relationship that you realized how hard it’d be when he would leave to be Captain America. It was his first time leaving for a mission that lasted longer than a day. He had to spend a week in some place on the other side of the world with no way of contacting him. Of course, you were worried the entire time he was gone. Despite trying to distract yourself with work and personal tasks, Steve was always at the forefront of your mind.

You had never felt such relief than the day he called you after a whole week of silence. Steve had even asked you shyly if he could come over that night. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he told you that he needed to see you. It was the first time he had spent the night at your place. Having Steve’s arms wrapped around you the entire night just felt right. You knew as early as then that you loved him.

Over the year that you had been together, those long missions became easier to manage. You’d always trust that he’d come back to you in one piece. Steve would sometimes feel guilty about being away for so long that he’d try to make it up to you by taking you on an extraordinary date. But you always assured him that you were happy to just be with him, even if it was just something like the two of you watching a movie at your place.

Lately, Steve has been more distant with you. You’ve chalked it up to the fact that there’s a literal distance between you two since he’s moved upstate to the newly built Avengers compound. Before, he was just a short drive away from the Avengers tower to your apartment. Now, he’s hours away from you. There were discussions of you moving in with him, but your job was in the city and you couldn’t leave that behind.

You both decided to make the best of the situation, calling and texting whenever possible. FaceTiming was the usual occurrence throughout the week, often before bed. You’d tell him about your day in the office and he���d tell you about the new recruits he would train. On the weekends, he’d stay over at your place. It was rare that you’d stay at the compound. Steve said he’d preferred your apartment, claiming it was homier than the compound. Plus, you’d actually have some privacy.

For a long time, it had been a good system. You love Steve and did anything to make the relationship work because he’s worth it. Yet, you couldn’t help the lonely nights where you wondered if he felt the same.

Calls were less frequent. Texts were unanswered. Weekend plans were cancelled because Steve would be assigned to missions during those days. You’d understand, of course. He’s out there saving people! You can’t fault him for that, but it doesn’t stop you from missing him.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him in person. You had texted him throughout the day, but texting wasn’t his favorite thing. Texts were usually reserved for quick check-ins and reminders of I love you’s. He preferred calling and you did too, hearing his voice was much better.

After learning that he had been back from a short mission, you texted him.

You: FaceTime later? ☺️

You were eager to see him, even if it was through a screen. You were just hoping he had the time.

Steve ♡: Sure.

Later that night, you sat on your bed with your laptop, opening up FaceTime. After a few rings, Steve’s face appears on the screen. A smile immediately breaks out on your face.

“Hi babe!” you say cheerily, finally getting to see your boyfriend after what felt like forever.

“Hi honey,” he says with a soft smile.

Your smile dims a bit, eyebrows furrowing when you recognize the background. “Are you still in your office?” It was pretty late and you assumed he’d be in bed by now.

“Yeah, I was finishing up on some mission reports,” he explains, shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” you apologize, recalling the last time you had interrupted him from his work.

“No, no” he waves his hand, “I thought I’d be done by now too, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”

You frown at the thought of your boyfriend overworking himself. You want to ask him about it, but you know he’ll say what he always does when you ask about his missions: It’s classified.

“You’re not stressing yourself out too much, are you Steve?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. Even through the hazy quality of the webcam, you can see the tired look in his eyes.

“Never,” he says with a smirk.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” you say with a teasing tone.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about honey,” he reassures you. “Besides, I wanna know what you’ve been up to.”

You scoff, “well, it’s definitely not nearly exciting as your week must’ve been.”

“I still wanna know,” he says with that boyish grin you love.

Steve always knew how to make those butterflies appear. You end up telling him about the incident you witnessed at the store which makes him laugh as he imagines the odd sight. He tells you about a prank Tony pulled on him and Sam and you beg him to send you the recording of it. He refuses, but you know you’ll get your hands on the footage eventually. Things felt normal again, just talking to him.

“So I was mixing the dough and halfway through I realized I completely forgot about the eggs,” you were in the middle of telling him about the new recipe you ended up ruining earlier this week.

Steve hums in response. You notice him looking to the side, not looking at the screen and you hear the sound of typing.

“and then a blue monster broke into my apartment,” you make up in an attempt to get his attention.

“Mhmm”

“and he stole all the cookies,” you continue.

“Hmm”

“Steve,”

Silence.

“Steve,” you say with a little more force.

“Huh?” he finally looks up at the screen.

“You’re not listening to me,” disappointment laces your voice.

“I was,” he quickly defends but you don’t buy it.

“Uh huh,” you cross your arms and lean back against your headboard. “What was I talking about?”

Steve glances elsewhere, not meeting your eyes when he mumbles “something about a party?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry honey, I was listening, really… but these reports need to be done,” he says with an apologetic look on his face.

You couldn’t stay mad at him, but you did feel hurt that he would pretend to listen rather than just telling you something.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He must notice the disappointment on your face because he apologizes once more.

“I’ll make it up to you honey,” he promises.

“Are you coming this weekend?” you ask hopefully. He couldn’t come last weekend and you were missing him terribly.

“Of course,” he gives you a tired smile that you return.

“Okay, finish those reports and get some sleep,” you instruct, emphasizing the last part.

“Yes ma’am,” he raises his hand, mock saluting you which makes you giggle.

“Goodnight Stevie, I love you,”

“Love you too sweetheart”

The call ends and you go to bed with a smile on your face.

The rest of the week goes by quickly. You’re excited to get to the weekend because that means you can finally see your boyfriend, in person! Not just behind some screen. It’s been almost three weeks since the last time he came over and you miss his touch.

It was Friday afternoon and you were sitting at a small table in the cafe you frequent, taking a lunch break. Halfway through your break, you got a call from Steve. You were a little surprised to see his picture pop up on your phone since you’re usually the one to call him. Nevertheless, you smiled and answered “Hi babe.”

“Hey honey,” he greets.

“I’m glad you called, I was thinking of picking up a few things from the store after work today. Do you need anything?”

“Uh… about that,” he says in a low voice. Your heart immediately sinks, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“You’re not coming.” A statement, not a question.

“I’m sorry honey. A mission came up and we leave tonight,” he explains and you almost want to laugh. Of course he’s leaving again.

“How long?” you ask. Maybe it’s just for a day and he can still come on Saturday or even Sunday.

“Two days… maybe three,”

You take a moment to process his words. Part of you saw this coming. It seemed too good to be true that you’d finally have him all to yourself. You glance up, trying to fight the sudden feeling of tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a busy café.

“There’s… there isn’t a chance you can skip this one?” you hesitantly ask. Normally, you’d just accept it, but your patience was running thin. This is the second time in a row he’s cancelled on you.

“You know I can’t. This is important,” he says it so sternly, like he doesn’t realize he’s breaking your heart. The missions are always important. More important than you.

“Yeah, but you’ve been working nonstop. I mean, don’t you want a break? Aren’t there others who can go instead?” you argue, voice raising.

“Y/N, I’m going. I have to,” he insists, leaving no room for an argument. You knew how stubborn Steve could be, so you knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on this. Rationally, you knew he probably had no choice in the matter but you took a chance anyways.

“Okay,” you relent.

You can hear Steve sigh before saying, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He’s been saying that a lot lately, but you know they’re empty promises.

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he says much softer than his previous tone.

“Love you too,” you say back, but your heart hurts.

Before you met Steve, sleeping alone wasn’t so bad. Some nights you would be on your phone, scrolling through social media till you eventually got sleepy. Other times, you’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about your day and mentally planning the next. Too often you found yourself overthinking about something you did, something you wish you could change. Or you would be anxious about something coming up, running through different scenarios of how it’d go. For some reason, your mind wouldn’t let you succumb to the sleep that your body desperately needed. But you were used to it.

Then Steve came along and he’d be there to ease your mind. On the nights he would stay over, sleep came much easier. There would still be nights where your mind kept you awake, but Steve would be lying right next to you. You’d be on his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your back as you told him about that meeting you were nervous about or how you got in trouble by your boss for a simple mistake. Steve would assure that everything would be okay and you found it easy to believe him.

He always knew when you needed a distraction from your worries, bringing up mundane things like last night’s baseball game or telling you about the modern music he actually started to like. Sometimes, he’d tell you a story from his life in the 40s. Stories like how his friend Bucky would drag him all over town, trying to find a date for the evening. Or about that time he had to star in an action movie when he just started out as Captain America (which you made a mental note to find later on Youtube). You loved hearing about Steve’s old life, curious about what made him into the man you love today.

Sometimes he’d just entertain your wild thoughts, especially when you’re half asleep. Conversations like how different life would be if dinosaurs never went extinct or if flat earth conspiracists were right. You’d be lying with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist while you mumbled any thoughts that came to mind. He’d listen till he heard your soft snores and he’d give you a gentle kiss on your head before he’d fall asleep too.

Then there would be nights where words would rarely be spoken. A night of soft moans as he took care of your body in ways only he knew how. He’d whisper praises, drawing out moans from you as he hit all the right spots. It was always different and exciting. You never knew what to expect, but he would always be so loving. You’d always stay close, basking in the afterglow.  

After having the comfort of Steve in the night, the times he’s not there feel a lot lonelier than before.

Like now, you’ve got your eyes closed but you’re not sleeping. Your thoughts seem louder than ever and they’re all about Steve. It probably doesn’t help that you decided to wear one of his tee shirts to bed, the faint smell of him making you miss him even more. After he cancelled on you (again) this past weekend, you started to wonder if he even wanted to see you at all.

You want to be mad at him, but how can you be? He’s Captain America! He has a responsibility that he can’t ignore, not even for his girlfriend. Lately, you can’t help but be worried at how many missions he’s been going on. To make matters worse, you’re left in the dark about all of it. He says it’s safer if you don’t know. You just have to trust him and trust that he needs to go.  

But what if he doesn’t actually need to? What if he wants to go so he doesn’t have to see you. Okay, that’s extreme, but it’s a possibility? It seems like he doesn’t even want to talk to you at all sometimes. You’re always the one texting and calling. It’s never really him unless it’s to let you down (again). Maybe you’re just being needy. Were you asking for too much? Are you overreacting? Probably. But it’s normal to be upset about not seeing your boyfriend for weeks, right?

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. You pick up your phone from the nightstand. The clock reads 3:12am. You unlock your phone and open your messages to see the last few texts Steve sent.

Steve ♡: I’m sorry.

You: just be safe

             —

Steve ♡: I’m back.

You: okay

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a good bit, contemplating if you want to bother him so late at night. Before you can overthink it, you hit the button. You turn to lay on your side with the phone against your ear, anxiously waiting for the ringing to stop.

“Hello,” Steve answers, voice deep and filled with sleep. You feel guilty for waking him up, but at the same time feel relief at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you say shyly. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to actually pick up. You were prepared to just leave a voicemail.

“Is something wrong?” he mumbles.

“No, no. There’s nothing wrong… I just…” you can feel the heat rising in your face, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. “I just miss you,” you say quietly, not even sure if he’s heard you.

You can hear the shuffling of sheets.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” he says and it warms your heart for a moment, “and as much as I wanna talk right now, I have to be up in a couple hours for a mission.”

“Oh,” the small smile you had on your face quickly disappears. You had no idea he was leaving again even though he just got back the day before.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay hon?” he says tiredly.

You feel a lump in your throat forming but you push past it, “yeah… yeah, of course.”

“Love you,”

“Love you too,” you practically whisper.

The phone call ends and the tears start to slide down your face. You didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore.

The last call you had with Steve a few days ago left you torn between logic and your emotions. You knew he was just tired, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two. In the past, he never seemed to mind talking to you, even in the odd hours of the morning. You always believed that you guys were so in sync. It seemed like he knew when you needed comfort and would be there to provide it.

You would be able to tell when something was off with Steve and though you would always offer to talk about it, he would brush it off. Thinking back to it, maybe he never really opened up to you for a reason.

You began to question if you are more invested in this relationship than he is. It feels wrong to even think so, considering how sweet and caring he is, especially with you. But everyone has their limits, right? Maybe he’s just gotten tired of you. It’s clear that work is his number one priority right now, maybe he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend anymore. He always makes promises of making it up to you another time, but maybe there will never be another time.

The thought of him leaving completely sends a pang of hurt to your heart.

You: can we talk?

You had sent Steve that text what felt like forever ago, but in reality has only been 20 minutes. You had spent that time repeating in your head what you were going to tell him while you paced back and forth around your living room. You were going to ask for a break. You didn’t want to break up with him completely, no, but you thought that this would be better in the long run. You’re hoping a break will give him the space he needs and then you guys can go back to the way you were. You figured it was better to let him focus on being a hero. You didn’t want to become the clingy girlfriend that he’d eventually resent.

You had no idea how he would react. Maybe he would agree. It’ll be tough, but every couple goes through something like this, right? Sure, it’s a special circumstance with you dating an Avenger, but other people have busy partners. You wonder how they manage a relationship when they don’t see each other so often. Maybe you were giving up too easily? But you’re tired of feeling pushed aside, like you aren’t his priority when he’s at the top of your list. You’re tired of feeling guilty for being upset when he can’t come see you. You’re just tired of feeling like you’re losing him.

Just as you start to doubt your whole plan, your ringtone breaks the silence. You pick up your phone with a shaky hand and tap on the answer button.

“Hello,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the nervous tone of your voice.

“Hey honey, you wanted to talk?”

“Uh, yeah…” you reply, already struggling to keep your voice even.

“Is everything alright?” he’s concerned and you can imagine the look on his face.

“Yeah…yeah,” you lie, “I uh… I just wanted to talk… about us.”

“Listen honey, I’m sorry about last week but it was really-“ he begins to apologize, but you shake your head, not wanting to hear another excuse.

“It’s more than that Steve,” you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “Do you realize it’s almost been a month since we’ve last seen each other?”

There’s a pause before he answers, “…I didn’t know it had been so long.”

“Do you even care?” you ask, voice giving in to the mix of anger and sadness you feel. The tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“Of course I care, you know I do” he defends.

“Do I though?” you question. The rehearsed words you mentally prepared are long gone. “…I’ve been sitting here thinking of what I’m doing wrong because I feel like something’s changed between us.”

“What are you talking about?” he sounds genuinely confused, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Steve… we don’t talk like we used to, I barely get to see you. I miss you all the time.”

“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,“ he acknowledges.

“And I don’t blame you for that,” you clarify.

“I know how important your job is, but… but I’m feeling a little left out here,” your voice cracks at the end. You wipe the few tears that started to fall down your face. “I mean, I feel like I barely know that part of your life. You’re gone most of the time and you never talk to me about it.”

“I can’t, for your safety. We’ve discussed that.”

“Yeah and I thought I could handle it, but you’re giving me nothing here,” you argue. “I wanna be there for you Steve, but it’s hard when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I... I can’t. I want to but it’s better if you don’t know,” he says pleadingly. You want to believe him, but you just can’t seem to let this go.

The silence lingers over the phone.

“Maybe we should take a break,” you eventually say with defeat.

“A break?”

“Maybe we just need some time to sort things out. You can focus on your work and when things get better… we can try again.”

“No, no…” he starts to argue, “that’s not fair.”

“Steve, please…” you beg, “just try to see where I’m coming from. I still love you, I always will. I just think we need this.”

He doesn’t say a word, making you anxious.

“Steve-”

You’re cut off by the phone hanging up. You sit in disbelief, letting the weight of the conversation fall on you.

You spent the rest of the night just curled up on the couch. You keep questioning your decision. In your mind, this was the right thing to do, despite the heartbreak you knew you’d be feeling. But you didn’t think it would hurt as much as it does now.

Steve’s reaction made you rethink the idea of a break. You worry that he thinks you don’t love him anymore when it’s the complete opposite. You did this because you love him. You didn’t want to lose him completely, but it looks like you lost him anyways. Maybe, deep down, a part of you was trying to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

The living room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights outside. The tears have stopped flowing, but the headache lingers. It’s almost 2 in the morning and despite being worn out from crying, you have trouble sleeping. You’re about to get up for a glass of water when you hear a knock on your door.

Your first reaction is to panic, because you weren’t expecting anyone at such a late hour. You mentally run through the self defense moves Steve insisted on teaching you. Slowly, you approach the door, trying to not make any noise.

Knock knock knock.

“It’s me.”

It’s softly spoken, but you hear him loud and clear. You quickly open the door to reveal Steve with a look of sorrow on his face. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“I don’t want a break,” he says hoarsely, breaking you out of your trace.

You all but pounce toward him and wrap your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that reminds you of home. Despite everything that happened over the phone, you feel a flood of relief from finally being in his arms.

You stood in his embrace, relishing the feeling of him being there for a good minute before you pulled away. You meet his eyes, noticing the tears surrounding them and it hurts your heart.

“We should talk,” you say, voice rough from the crying just hours ago.

You’re sitting side by side on your couch. You look at him and can’t believe that he drove all the way to your place in the middle of the night. You can see the worry on his face and you want nothing more than to comfort him, but you hold back because you want an explanation first.

“So..” you start off, “you don’t want a break?”

“Y/N, I know I’ve messed up, but please don’t give up on us,” he says with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to. I thought that’s what you would’ve wanted. I thought…” you shy away from his stare, “maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steve looks at you with guilt, realizing for the first time how much he’s hurt you, “I’m sorry… I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately but I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Then what's been going on?” you ask, looking back at him, determined to know why it took you asking for a break to get him here.

Steve looks down at his hands, visibly nervous. Why? You have no idea.

“Talk to me Steve,” you encourage him. “Please.”

He turns to look at you, taking a breath before saying “I’ve been looking for Bucky.”

You’re immediately confused. Out of all the things you thought of him saying, this was never one of them.

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” you question. You knew of his friend from the stories he would tell you. Bucky was practically a brother to Steve.

“Yes,” he says easily, but it just makes you more confused. The thought of Steve going crazy briefly crosses your mind.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” he explains. You recognize that name from the news. He was a part of the incident that happened in DC.

“What? H-How would that even be possible?” you question, not really being able to wrap your head around it. From what you knew, Bucky died in war back in the 40s.

“HYDRA was using him. They found him after he fell from the train and they brainwashed him for decades until I was able to snap him out of it when we fought in DC,” Steve continues, “After he saved my life, he disappeared.”

The pain in his voice is evident as he talks about his friend. You scoot closer to him and you take his hand into yours, offering him comfort.

“Sam and I have been following any lead we could to find him,” he explains, “I’ve been doing that along with all the other missions I get sent on. That’s why I’ve been gone so much.”  

It finally makes sense to you.

“Oh Steve,” you say, “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.”

“I know honey, I should have…” he squeezes your hand, which you reciprocate.

“HYDRA is evil. I’ve seen how cruel they can be,” he continues. “The thought of them coming anywhere near you kills me,” his voice filled with emotion and his eyes gloss over with tears. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of that headspace…”

He looks away from you, head down, “you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

You reach over with your free hand to touch his face. “Steve,” you turn his head to look at you. His blue eyes shine even in the dim lighting. “Please don’t shut me out. I want to know these things. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to be there for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your eyes beg him to understand you. “And I get it now. Bucky is your friend and I know you’ll find him again someday. Just don’t put all that stress on yourself,” your thumb wipes away a stray tear falling down his face. “I want to help you in any way I can. You can always come back to me.”

He subtly nods and looks at you, faces only a breath apart. “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, like he’s in disbelief.

He closes the distance, lips finally meeting yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as you continue to cradle his face in your palms. You focus on conveying all your love for him into the kiss. You pull away briefly to move on to his lap as he leans back into the couch. His hands naturally fall on your hips as you get impossibly close.

You break the kiss again, “Promise not to leave me again,” you plead, but your tone is much lighter this time. You never wanted to leave his arms again.

He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowing a bit, “I can’t promise that,” you give him a sad smile, already knowing that. His hand leaves your hip to push a stray hair behind your ear, “but I can promise that I will talk to you more and show you how much you mean to me more often. ”

You genuinely smile at that.

“This is important to me,” he says, pulling you closer, emphasizing his words, “you’re important to me.”

“I love you”

“I love you too,”

You lean back in to kiss him again, smiling in between because you’re happy to have your Steve back. And you know things will get better from here. There’s still going to be some tough nights when you miss him and he can’t be there, but you know he’ll be missing you just as much. You won’t have to doubt his love for you again.

You pull away once more, “Remember how you said, you’d make it up to me?” you question with a mischievous look in your eye.

“Yeah,” he says looking at you expectantly.

You simply raise your eyebrows and smirk at him. He catches on and mouths an “oh”.

You’re lifted from the couch so you latch onto Steve’s shoulders, giggling loudly at the sudden movement. He carries you into your bedroom, where he definitely made up for lost time.

You slept much easier that night.

hope you enjoyed reading! 🤍 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!! let me know if you liked it :) 

[voidsbabe]

After we graduated (2)

Pairing: Stiles x female reader

Characters: Stiles, Lydia

Word count: 1,6k

Warnings: please keep in mind that english isn’t my first language

Masterlist

———————/

Stiles inhales deeply and licks his lips. He looks at this beautiful baby girl and starts to see some similarities between him and Claudia. Claudia has Stiles’s eyes and some of his behaviours.

“Ok little one, It’s getting late and that means you have to go to sleep” says Stiles and takes Claudia in his arms. He goes to her room and lays her down to her bed.

"Can you find my rabbit? I can't sleep without it.” Says Claudia looking at him with exactly like his puppy eyes. Stiles looks around trying to find a little plushy rabbit. Instead of that he notices a picture. He frowns and gets closer to see that one particular photo. A huge smile appears on Stiles’s face. It’s a picture of the whole pack right after graduation which he believes Coach took. He smiles to that memory.

Next to that he notices one pink rabbit.

“Found it sweetie!” Says Stiles and gives it to almost sleeping Claudia. He kisses her on her forehead and leaves her room.

**********

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Says Stiles right after you enter the living room. You frown, not understanding what he means.

“Claudia. Is she my child?” asks Stiles with some frustration in his voice. “Is she mine? Just tell me Y/N!”

“Cool out.” You whisper “you are going to wake up Claudia”.

Stiles’s chest is rising rapidly as he looks at you. He’s breathing faster and faster in anger and frustration.

“So that’s true. She is my child. SHE IS MY CHILD AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” yell Stiles.

Claudia comes downstairs and looks at you and Stiles sleepy.

“Mommy, why are you both yelling?” She asks.

You give Stiles a death stare and run to Claudia. You kiss her on the forehead.

“It’s nothing, baby. We are so sorry that we have woken you up. Go to your bed and I will be there in a minute sweetie pie” you say. Your little girl does as you told her and goes back to her bed.

“Look what you have done.” You say angry.

Stiles bites his lips and closes his eyes.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be around you right now.” He says and you can’t help but notice some tears in his eyes as he leaves your house.

You cover your face with your hands and take some deep breaths to calm yourself. You feel your throat slowly tighten. You take one more deep breath and finally go to Claudia’s room. You push her doors just to see your little angel peacefully sleeping holding her pink rabbit. You smile a little. She seems so peaceful and innocent and somehow she’s still a little devil in the morning… just like her father.

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

After a few weeks you finally find courage to call Lydia and tell her everything “Lydia, has Stiles been calling or texting you?” you ask her hoping that Lydia would say yes. Claudia has been asking about Stiles since the next morning when she asked you why you both have been yelling at night and since you can’t lie to her because she’s smart just like her dad, you finally confess the truth crossing your fingers for the good ending and her being understanding even though she’s just a kid and she shouldn’t have been through that.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but no. He hasn’t been talking to anyone after he found out” says Lydia “I’m really sorry that I can’t be there with you and Claudia. How's the little angel holding up since you told her?”

You put your phone on speaker and unpack your groceries.

“Well, she’s been a little quiet since then but I feel like she understands why I haven’t told her nor her dad about everything. She’s just six but you know how smart she can be. I just hope it wouldn’t cause any trauma because I never really wanted that to happen.” You say and sigh loudly. You hear Lydia saying some things about Stiles but you don’t listen to her because of that sudden memory that appears in your head and holds onto you tightly.

“Lydia, I gotta go” you say and hang up.

“OMG Y/N I CAN’T BELIEVE I GOT TO THE FBI'' says Stiles looking at you. “I mean yes I know it would be far away from New York City but we still can be in touch. That's easy. Me, you, Scott, Allison, Lydia and Isaac we would all stay in touch and it would be amazing. We could hang out and do some things and I could tell you about some cases and…” he says out of his breath. You just giggle a little seeing little sparks in his eyes. He is truly happy. You feel tears in your eyes as you watch Stiles calling to Scott to get the whole pack together. You bite your lips and wipes tears away. Even though you are so happy for your friends, all you can feel is fear. You don’t know what the future will look like and how to be a single mom. Yes, you could tell Stiles but it would definitely end everything. He’s so happy and you want him to stay that way after everything that has happened and after the void you can finally see true happiness in his eyes.

You shake your head just like you are trying to get that memory out of your head.

Stiles still hasn’t called even though you left him a couple voicemails hoping that he would listen to all of them and somehow appear in your door ready to listen to you but that didn’t happen. It was all just in your head. Your head was messing up with you and it was slowly killing you. You sigh and sit on the couch trying to distract yourself by watching a stupid movie about some teenagers trying to not to fall in love. You frown a little as you hear the doorbell ringing. You didn’t invite anyone so it seems even weirder to hear your doorbell ring. You get to the doors and open them. You hear your jaw loudly dropping to the ground.

“Stiles” you say still pretty shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my daughter and you. I got a present for Claudia.” he says and gives you a box of Claudia’s favorite cereal and a big teddy. You thank him and invite him inside.

He kisses you on the cheek and sits on the couch. “Claudia, there’s someone to see you” you yell to get your daughter downstairs. Claudia runs as fast as she can downstairs and freezes in shock. “Daddy!” She screams and runs to hug Stiles. He smiles and takes her to his arms. He gives her a little kiss on the forehead and takes her on his lap.

“I got you something” he says and gives Claudia those presents. “Thank you Daddy” says Claudia and hugs him tightly and then runs to her room to introduce her new teddy to other toys.

“So I am ready to talk. Tell me everything” says Stiles and looks at you. You nod and bite your lips. You take a deep breath fighting some tears that appeared in your eyes. “When I got pregnant I didn’t know what I should do. I felt hopeless and I was so scared because I already knew that I won’t tell you and I know it sounds extremely selfish and you have every right to be mad at me that I haven’t told you, but you did not see yourself. Stiles I love you and after everything that we have been through. Every damn supernatural creature and after the void you seemed so happy that you got to that FBI program and I knew I couldn’t tell you because you would stay and miss that opportunity. I’m so sorry that I made that decision. I know it was irresponsible and selfish and I know that I fucked everything up by telling everyone except you. I’m really sorry” you say with a shaking voice. After that it is silent. You feel your heart beating rapidly as you start bawling your eyes. Stiles gets up and takes you in his arms. He wipes away tears from your face and hugs you. “I’m not mad Y/N. I know that you have made that decision because you had some reasons. I was mad and shocked and frustrated when I found out because I always wanted a kid and you know how much I loved you. How much I still love you. Y/N you are my everything and you will always be. You and Claudia. I love both of you and I’m ready to take every responsibility for my actions and I’m ready to be a dad. I want to be a dad. A good one. And of course I wanna be with you. I never stopped loving you.” he whispers in your ear and leans to kiss you softly. You smile through that kiss and place your hands on his cheeks just to kiss him more passionately.

After you graduated you didn’t know what your life would look like in the next 10 years. You were extremely scared and hopeless. But after all, you got your happy ending with the most precious angel that you could have and the most amazing husband that you have ever dreamed of. You were happy that Stiles found out about Claudia because your life as the whole family just started. In that moment when you said “I do”. It changed everything. Claudia changed everything.

And that’s what happened after we graduated...

———————————/

Hey guys! Thank you for waiting and reading. Reblogs and replies are very appreciated ❤️

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[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Doing Things My Parents Never Let Me Do As A Kid

Date video was published: 03/21/2019 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 391

This first of a somewhat-common-after-this video type I would just describe as “Phil tries random things.”

0:00 - the first appearance of this hoodie!

0:06 - a thing he did do and talked about in THE KOOL KATZ

0:12 - thanks for clarifying there Phil

0:28 - Phil does have a long-standing love of cereal. and he did this same thing at the end of British Guy Reviews the WILDEST American Cereals! even more recently

0:35 - lol at him imitating Kath

0:52 - he is putting a lot of each kind of cereal into the bowl

0:55 - “balls of sugar” seems to be an accurate description of most of the cereals Phil likes

1:05 - um. what Phil. 

1:12 - “muscular tiger daddy” 😳 I love that he says he can’t say that on his channel but then leaves it in anyway. I wouldn’t blink at Phil saying that now, but it was a lot for early 2019

1:27 - lol at him telling himself to shut up

1:34 - are they really? DNP had a box of Lucky Charms in DITL London

1:48 - that is a very full bowl of cereal

2:02 - Phil...oh dear. pretty sure it has to do with the bottom of your glass...not your ass 😂

2:21 - it really is just a bowl of sugar. of course Phil likes it

2:51 - love Phil laughing at his past self, which he does a lot of in this video

2:57 - ah, so this one he’s blaming Nigel for instead of Kath

3:07 - “maybe after I switch of the camera” ...alrighty then 😳

3:10 - why did he not just move the camera to point at the desk or whatever that was sitting on...holding it and running it at the same time does not seem like the best plan

3:42 - quite disturbing

3:50 - that seems like a mistake

4:00 - it really got each of his individual eyebrow hairs there

4:05 - “looks like I’m angrily making out with myself” I’m sure he could find a fic for that

4:07 - art, truly 😂

4:27 - DNP tweeted a lot about going on omegle in 2009

4:35 - pokémon, food, and buffy is a good summary for young Phil

4:41 - Phil has not chatted online like this for a while, clearly

4:52 - I love this person. Phil is thrilled

5:24 - “to fun” with a Phil air-quote, hahahaha

5:37 - he definitely knew video would be ‘worse’ (read: more entertaining)

5:48 - well that’s very creepy

5:53 - the “boing” sound too 😂

6:09 - well that’s sweet

6:23 - I feel like he still saw a lot of horror movies when he was young

6:27 - I can’t believe he hadn’t watched it up to this point

6:46 - everything is censored with the bunny, haha

6:57 - am enjoying Phil’s random commentary

7:23 - he also tweeted specifically about wanting a soda stream to do this back in 2014

7:32 - this was back during the tour. then he did try a milk-soda-drink-thing which he liked!

7:50 - once again...he really should have used a counter for this instead of holding it

8:06 - that does not sound appetizing

8:19 - “that I’m sure someone else has probably done on YouTube” haha, I’m sure he’s right

8:32 - of course it is turning into a mess...I think he filled the bottle a bit too much

8:51 - laughing at him zooming-in on the plant poking him in the head

9:00 - that was nowhere near a “big gulp”

9:05 - it must be bad; that is almost as strong as the reactions in THE CHEESE CHALLENGE  and he hates cheese

9:32 - what even. pretty sure the sugar just covers anything

This is a cute Phil video, but he spends most of the time on the omegle part which is the least interesting.

[b1gerror]

“     HAPPY BIRTHDAY,   DINGUS.     ”      2 weeks after the mall burned down,   2 weeks since your vow of never becoming friends with steve ‘the hair’ harrington was broken.    ᴬᴺᴰ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴵᵀ'ˢ ᴴᴵˢ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ,   felt like an admission of something,    how easily enemy turned to friend and is slipping into best friend.    ASK ME TOMORROW,     an invitation.     you don’t think you had spent a day without him since,    but you supposed being interrogated,  then drugged,   then almost dying from some massive shadow monster and the guy from your ³ᴿᴰ ᴾᴱᴿᴵᴼᴰ history class did that to people.      you knew it was his birthday,   not from anything said,   but from the triple underlined date in your sophomore year journal— -   ‘JULY 20TH.   it’s harrington’s birthday today,     i heard tammy talk about it when she came to see a film.  i’m sure his hair looks extra stupid,   enough product to ᴰᴵˢᵀᵁᴿᴮ some ecosystem somewhere.’         look at you now,   a year’s gone by and your standing at his door,    shoddily wrapped present in hands.     you didn’t even know what he liked,    what do you get something for someone who appears to have everything?     inside the box:      a copy of karate kid ⁽ᴬ ᴺᴼᵀᴱ: if i’m going to hang out with you,  you need a better movie taste),     russian: ᶠᴼᴿ ᴮᴱᴳᴵᴺᴺᴱᴿˢ,  just in case you found yourself in that situation again,   better you both learned?      and the polaroid from the first day you worked together,  you in front with a grin,   him sulking in the background,     unaware that a month later,  your life would be forever changed.            

a year on, months after the world (the town..?) died,   the air thick and acting as a constant reminder of that day,    of the deaths that weighed on you...&ᴴᴵᴹ.     it still didn’t feel right to celebrate anything,    but the day couldn’t just pass by.     you aren’t good at buying gifts.    ᴬ⁾   you had no money.    family video hadn’t exactly been getting a lot of business with the end of the world and all.     ᴮ⁾    you can’t ask your parents,   they had long set off to texas to stay with your grandparents,    asked you to pack up the house for them before they try and sell.      THEY DID ASK YOU TO LEAVE WITH THEM,   that counted for something,   right?       but that was never an option,    you weren’t going to leave the kids,   the town that you hated,    or steve..       ᴶᵁᴸʸ ²⁰ᵀᴴ ¹⁹⁸⁶.     it was just you and him in his apartment,   something that felt strange these days,   so used to the constant presence of the kids just needing somewhere safe.    you had gotten up at 6am,    tried, and failed to cook breakfast,   presented him with burnt toast, runny eggs, and soggy cereal paired with out-of-date milk.      the cake at dinner time turned out better,    having since went for groceries as a way to ᴺᴼᵀ ruin the entire day,   and beg the pizza shop a town over to enter hawkins.      a week earlier,   you had to beg nancy to drive you to indianapolis to find a copy of 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚣𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊,   scraped together whatever savings were left to buy it + the gas money,   but it was worth it.

the last part of your gift had taken the longest,   but you were suddenly grateful for your incessant need to not just enjoy a moment but to photograph it too—    a scrapbook with memories created over the last year,   not just you two but the kids as well,   placed inside a shoe box with miscellaneous items.     a rock that would have been round if not ˢᴼᴹᴱᴴᴼᵂ attached to another—    (steve said it was you and him,    you compared it to his hair.)       ticket stubs from the best movies over the year,  marked with your rating 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝟷𝟶,      a copy of fast times   (already set to 53 minutes and 5 seconds),     and a custom mixtape of his favourite songs that you complained about every car ride.              the bottom of the box was the last picture before the world went to hell,   march 10th,    your 18th birthday,   but the note inscribed on the back was more recent.

dear steve,     ( @k1ngdingus​ )                  if you find this box before your birthday,   please act like you’ve never seen it,  but truthfully?   i wanted to have it ready before then.   we don’t know what’s going to happen,  we don’t know when he’s going to come back,  and frankly?     ᴵ'ᴹ ˢᶜᴬᴿᴱᴰ  i’m scared i’m not going to be there to see your stupid face open it,   but i don’t want to focus on that reality.      because i’m going to be there,  and so are you,  and so are the kids because if i can see them,  i know that they’re safe,   and i know that you’re as happy as you can be right now.     you might not remember me from mrs click’s class,  but i remember you.   i told you before,   it was like this obsession,   that if i could just yell at you and shake some sense into that pea sized brain of yours,   you might see that tammy wanted you,    how could you have been so blind?     obviously then i realised that i wanted to be you,    not ᴹᴿ ᴾᴼᴾᵁᴸᴬᴿ but someone who was liked.      i thought that summer was going to be my own personal hell,    seeing your stupid hair over the booth,      being told that hey,  it’ll bring in customers.   barf,   a whole summer of watching steve harrington flirt?     but believe it or not,   you weren’t a total asshole,      i was mean to you every single day,   and yet you didn’t seem to care.       you became my best friend that summer, steve.   and i don’t think i’d trade it for anything,     even if it meant i’d be oblivious to the upside down and secret russians and girls with superpowers.    my life became more interesting the day i met you.      happy birthday steve.            love,   robin                    P.S.     if it’s ᴺᴼᵀ july 20th and you got this far,   i’m going to kill you.

robin doesn’t know how to love people,     but for him?    she’ll figure it out.

[escapewithbts]

Secrets in a Foreign Language (Part Seven) - Jungkook

sorry it took so long for an update!

<<previous_next>>

—————————————

You were heartbroken. How someone you hadn’t known very long could make it hurt so badly you weren’t sure. But man, did it hurt.

So many times over the next week you debated just showing up at his place, hearing his side, figuring out a next step together. You missed him.

But then you would recall him telling you to get in the closet, acting like a coward, like you were his meaningless dirty little secret. Reminding yourself of these things kept you from going over there.

In fact, you barely left your apartment at all. The same loneliness of when you first moved to Seoul becoming ever so prevalent again. You vowed to try and go out and make friends when all this Jungkook stuff was just a distant memory.

However, it proved difficult to make it all fade away in your mind since you were still scheduled to clean his apartment. To go back to the place where it all came to a beginning. And an abrupt end.

With hesitation, you slipped the key into the lock of the front door the following Tuesday. You insisted he not be there that last time you saw him, but what if he wanted to reconcile? You gulped and opened the black wooden door.

Silence.

He wasn’t on the couch in front of the tv waiting for you. He wasn’t in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. He wasn’t in the master bathroom taking a quick shower. Jungkook wasn’t here. You didn’t know if you felt relieved or disappointed, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about it as you immediately noticed the state of the home. It wasn’t cleaned like all the weeks prior. It was lived in, messy even.

So that was it. Back to square one. You alone in the apartment of a famous and wealthy Korean celebrity with a job to do.

-

 A few days later you were laying on the couch in your studio loft apartment. It was dark outside since it was 12:47am, the only light was coming from the iridescent blue glow of the television. This had become a routine now, you turning on the tv but not watching anything in particular, just so there was noise and something to get your mind off everything. Some nights you never even made it upstairs to your bed.

And tonight your eyes began to slowly drift shut, your thoughts traveling elsewhere, the beginning of sleep taking over.

All of the sudden, you heard Jungkook’s name from the television. Or had you dreamt it? However, when your eyes opened in shock and confusion, his ever familiar face appeared on the screen. It was the same show you had seen while scrolling channels at Jungkook’s a couple months ago you realized, the trashy one where random people discuss the lives of famous actors and musicians. You sat up and tried to focus on the delayed English subtitles coming up at the bottom of the screen.

 “… an official statement from both their companies was released.”

“So, it is true?”

“I would say that solidifies it.”

Cho-hee’s picture popped up. Followed by one taken outside at night of her and Jungkook walking and laughing. Then a graphic of a zig-zag shaped rip formed between their bodies, and the picture ripped in half, a broken heart and crying face appearing between them.

 “Wow. They seemed so happy. I really thought this would last.”

“They’re so young and busy, no need to settle down yet.”

“But still, this begs the question… is love even real?”

 *laughter*

 Then they moved on to talking about another kpop idol.

Your felt your heart pound inside your chest. Jungkook and Cho-hee had “broken up”? Their companies had let them? They were no longer in a secret fake relationship? You couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

With shaky hands, you picked up your phone from the coffee table and opened the internet. Curiosity was getting the better of you, your desire to read those statements greater than your will to stop yourself from trying to remove all evidence of Jeon Jungkook from your brain.

 ‘Hello,

This is a representative from HYBE Corporation commenting in regard to the relationship between our artist Jeon Jungkook and fellow artist Kim Cho-hee. At this time, Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon have mutually decided to part ways due to their careers and lack of schedule alignment. Going forward, there will no longer be any updates on the matter, and any information regarding their relationship from outside sources is invalid. Please respect the artists’ decision and privacy during this time.

Thank you.

HYBE Corp.: PR Department’

 You stared at your phone in shock, rereading it a couple times to make sure it was real.

So, they really ended their fake relationship? Was because of Jungkook or Cho-hee? Or their companies? What was the real reason? Who was the perpetrator?

So many theories and questions ran through your head, furthering your exhaustion, and soon enough you drifted off to sleep, head full of images and thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

 -

The following Tuesday started off like any other. The sound of your alarm blaring woke you up out of a deep sleep at 4:00 in the morning. You groaned and hit the snooze button, questioning why you chose a job where you had to work so early… and basically all your other life decisions. (You were, in fact, not a morning person).

Eventually you sat up and rubbed your puffy eyes, removing the sleep from their corners. You yawned and stretched your arms up high before reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You checked Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, of course, then like every morning, you opened your work schedule, just to see if there had been any changes to the course of the day ahead.

 And boy, was there.

 For under the 2pm slot was the same unit number that had been there for weeks, however this time one word next to it caught your immediate attention.

 Vacancy.

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Wait, what?

Clearly this was wrong. This was Jungkook’s apartment! There was no way it was now empty. He had never mentioned the fact that he wanted to move, that he was going to move. This would have come up in a conversation with him at least once if it was this sudden.

Yes, his stuff would still be there when you arrived to clean this afternoon. He still owned it, still lived there. He wasn’t gone. Right?

Wrong.

To your surprise, when you opened the door, the entire apartment was empty. Everything was gone. It was cold and echo-y and barren. Dust covered the hardwood floors of the living room where the rug had laid. Harsh sunlight poured in through the large windows, no longer shielded by the curtains that had previously been hanging there. The walls were now bare, small holes left from the various works of art that were once on display.

The memories of the times being with Jungkook flooded your brain almost instantly. Playing games and watching shows and movies on his large sofa. The time he admitted he was cleaning just so he could hang out with you. When you would two would sit at the kitchen island and eat delicious food, talking and laughing about anything and everything. When he told you he had feelings for you. The first of many times you made love.

Overcome by those thoughts, you finally allowed yourself to break down.

The sound of your sobs and unsteady breathes bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the room, tears cascading down your hot cheeks.

Maybe you were being dramatic. Maybe Jungkook had turned out to be a coward. Maybe he had been using you for sex and company. Maybe he had lied about having feelings for you. Who knows?

But even if had been all pretend for him, you had still fallen in love with him.

You could finally admit that the past two weeks since you saw him last you may have been holding on to some kind of hope. Hope that he wasn’t a coward, hadn’t been using you, did have feelings for you; and all that would become evident if you ever saw each other again, if he was ever at his apartment when you came to clean like he had been so many other times.      

But now it was as if the universe was laughing at you for falling for someone so unattainable and complicated.

He was gone, and you had no way of contacting him.

Eventually you pulled yourself together enough to start the long cleaning process for a vacant unit. Every surface, cupboard, drawer, nook and cranny had to be spotless so new potential buyers could tour the home.

You started in the living room: vacuuming, mopping and dusting, making sure the floor, walls, and windows were shining.

Then you moved into the adjoining kitchen, spraying and wiping every countertop, the refrigerator, the island. You even had to open each drawer and cabinet to wipe those down, too.

But as you opened the last upper cabinet to clean its inside as well, you suddenly caught your breath in your throat.

For there inside the cupboard was a box of cereal. Your favorite cereal. The same kind of cereal you had eaten with Jungkook in this very kitchen the first day you met.

He must have just left it on accident.

With a shaky hand, you grabbed it and brought it down to eye level. That’s when you noticed the envelope taped to the front of the box.

Your heart pounding, you ripped it off and tore it open.

Inside was a letter, and as you unfolded it something fell out and into your hand.

It was a ticket.

To a BTS fanmeeting event.

What?

Your eyes moved to the handwritten letter.

 ‘There are so many things I wish I had done differently. You didn’t deserve what I asked of you that day. I’m so sorry I handled everything so poorly. I don’t blame you for questioning everything and leaving. I was a coward. I know this now.

Please, please come see me. Please come to this event. I understand if you don’t. I just want nothing more than to see you and talk to you again.’

 And then, at the very bottom,

 ‘보고 싶어요

사랑해요

JK’.

 *

Masterlist

Author’s note: The two phrases in Korean at the end mean “I miss you” and “I love you”(!!!!).

:)

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

I really liked reading your fics of Lotor watching movies! Do you think Lotor would like watching Atlantis or lilo and stitch? And who would he watch them with? (Hopefully either Allura or Pidge)

Movie Time with TSL Lotor – Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)

It was a cold and rainy morning on the planet of Olkarion, with an emaciated Galran prince swaddled in blankets on the floor of the paladin’s lounge room. Lotor still wore his night robe and Earth-fashion pajamas, his white hair disheveled from sleep. He yawned. His face pulled tight with his harvesting scars, and his long fangs gleamed in the lamplight. He tiredly scratched at his cheek. “Why did you wake me so early, little one?”

Across the room, a pajama-clad Pidge sat cross-legged, plugging in a few cables. “Because. It’s Saturday.”

The bleary-eyed man blinked. “I know not what a Saturday is.”

She looked up, readjusting her glasses. “It’s the day where people get up to eat cereal and binge-watch cartoons. Like a tradition. My brother and I used to do this all the time. And sometimes my dad too, but he slept in a lot.” Her face twisted in a pout. “And everyone here sleeps in for, like, ever.”

“Even the princess?”

“Even the princess.”

Lotor’s gaze slid to the container of milk, courtesy of Kaltenecker, and then to the sacred box of—he narrowed his gaze curiously—frosted cheerios. Pidge had procured two bowls and two little spoons. He raised his nose and sniffed delicately. The box smelled of sweetness and grains, and saliva swarmed through his mouth in anticipation of food. Beneath the blankets, he scratched at his stomach. Wakefulness began to seep through him at the thought of eating and watching more animated drawings from Earth. “You wish to share in this…tradition with me, then?”

“You were sleeping out here on the couch,” Pidge deadpanned, giving him a look, “so you were gonna share in it no matter what.” A small emotion came over her. She glanced down, returning to connecting the cables. “And my brother’s still off-planet, so you’ll have to do.”

He huffed in amusement. “I am a companion of convenience, then. A replacement brother.”

“Yeah, something like that.” She began to scoot away from the cables, grabbing for her cereal bowl.

Lotor quirked a brow. His blanket shifted around him as he picked up the remaining bowl, mimicking her actions. “What is the topic of today’s entertainment adventure?” He watched curiously as she dumped cereal into her bowl and filled it with milk. And then he followed in kind, hesitantly dipping his spoon into the concoction and biting down.

His slit pupils dilated at the sweet taste.

His fangs crunched down loudly.

Pidge munched more quietly, but her lips stretched as she moved to turn on the movie. “It’s called Atlantis: The Lost Empire.”

Lotor’s elfin ears flicked in interest. “Lost empire?” he repeated curiously, voice muffled by cereal.

As the movie began to play, Pidge’s face brightened. “The whole movie involves an old human legend, about this advanced civilization that sunk under the sea in a sudden cataclysm.”

“Fascinating.” His explorer’s heart lifted in excitement, the sleeping disappearing fully from his eyes. In that moment, it did not matter to him that he was 10,000 years old or watching something that was most assuredly meant for children and families. “Does the legend have any form of validity?”

“Well, being mentioned by Plato, who was a real philosopher—” she pointed to the screen to the opening quote—“has made people search all over for it. But so far, nothing’s proven because there’s a lot of sunken cities on Earth.” She paused. “The movie definitely takes some creative license with ancient human tech, too. Like, ancient humans did not fly in fish ships.”

“I see.” Lotor crunched down happily on the cereal, eyes wide. The screen brightened with the cartoon colors of human animation. Strange, fish-like planes streaked through a blue sky in a panic. Lotor instinctively leaned along with the framing of the movie, as if he were on the ships as well. “Calamity is rather fun to indulge in when it’s not real.”

“I know, right?” Pidge grabbed onto her blanket, wrapping it around her.

And the two remained sitting on the floor of the great lounge, increasingly lost in the tale of Atlantis.

***

It was at some point after Milo Thatch’s introduction that Lotor hesitantly spoke up, his voice catching oddly. “This animation.” He tried again. “I thought you said once that humans were unaware of the planet Altea.”

Pidge pushed up her glasses, still cradling her cereal bowl in her lap. “Yep. Didn’t know about it at all.”

Lotor puzzled at the screen. He hummed, setting his cereal bowl down on his lap. “This Atlantis bears significant similarities to Altean technology and to its people, down to being significantly advanced even ten-thousand years ago.”

The human girl blinked. And then her face twisted in a mischief. “Oh, yeah. It might have more similarities than you think.” She began to waggle her bows. “Including to a certain Altean princess.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Also, you kinda remind me of Milo,” she declared. “Just saying.”

His eyes slit further in consternation, for at that moment, the somewhat bumbling but intelligent character of Milo Thatch was sitting in a water puddle after his museum colleagues rejected his proposal. For good measure, Lotor crunched down on another bite of cereal. “I may enjoy ancient history,” he declared, voice muffled, “but I am not as scrawny as he.”

Pidge poked him hard in his ribs, which still jutted out beneath his sleeping robe. “You’re right. You’re scrawnier.”

Lotor flinched away, shooting her a playfully dark glare. “A temporary consequence of being harvested by the witch. I will reclaim my health, and then you will regret making fun of me so.”

Her face split in a wicked smile. “Nah. You’re definitely Milo. Muscle can’t hide that you’re a nerd.”

He sputtered, waving his cereal spoon. “And what of you? With your books and codes. And cat memes.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd,” she declared. “I just own it proudly.”

The fallen prince ate of his cereal in a light disgruntlement. He watched Milo as the character awkwardly stumbled through meeting a busty blond human woman and then a spastic old man in a bathrobe—his objective always set on discovering the secrets of Atlantis and its sources of power.

Milo Thatch owned a cat too.

Lotor’s face began to heat in realization that he did have a lot in common with this strange human man.

***

By the time the character Milo Thatch met the Princess Kida of Atlantis, a real princess had sleepily trailed into the movie room. Allura’s long, pink robes slipped against the tiles of the halls, her curls a tumble down her shoulders. She yawned and proceeded to stumble her way over to Lotor and Pidge.

With little preamble, she flopped over them.

Pidge barely managed to raise her bowl of frosted cheerios in time, squawking. Lotor froze entirely as Allura’s white curls spilled across his lap—her warm cheek leaning against his leg.

“It’s too early for movies,” the princess whined lightly. She snuggled against him and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, laying across two bodies. “I could hear the sound all the way from my room.” Lotor’s attention split from the animated Princess Kida to the living, breathing princess in his lap. His elfin ears flicked back, and his sharp cheeks heated.

Pidge grumped and tried to shove her off.

The princess did not budge, save for a grump right back.

Lotor had long finished off his bowl of frosted cheerios—leaving not even a drop of milk in his wake. But he carefully pushed the bowl further away, in fear that her hair would end up in it. “We are watching Atlantis: The Lost Empire,” he murmured to her, voice straining. “Would you not like to watch it with us?”

Allura made a noncommittal noise, appearing to fall back asleep, the lines in her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled deeply. The action suggested she had grown to trust him a great deal, for the back of her neck lay bare where her hair had parted.

Lotor swallowed hard.

He turned to look at Pidge, who had sighed and given up trying to push Allura off—instead, she’d moved to accept Allura’s robe as something of a blanket and had rested her arms over the back of the princess’s legs.

Lotor hesitated, knowing that the paladins often piled upon each other as a means of displaying familial affection.

As Milo Thatch moved to swim alongside Princess Kida in search of the Heart of Atlantis, Lotor moved to brush his fingers against the waves of Allura’s curls.

It was a soft, hesitant action—testing the waters of her trust. She made a soft noise in response, her lips sleepily stretching. Her elfin ear flicked lightly as the calloused pads of his fingers ran over it. The action itself meant things to Alteans and Galrans, for only family and lovers touched one’s ears.

The princess nuzzled against him.

His heart skipped. Careful of his claws, he continued to toy with her hair as he turned his attention back to the movie, in which Milo’s very interest in Atlantis had now endangered the Royal Atlantean family.

Lotor bit his lip, feeling a great protectiveness for Allura wash over him.

***

The movie indicated that Atlanteans received their power from a great, sentient crystal—the animation of which was not unlike pure quintessence.

“Do you think,” Lotor asked quietly to Pidge, “that it is possible your Atlantis was real, and that some piece of a quintessence-rich substance—a comet, perhaps—landed upon your Earth?”

Pidge looked over at him, readjusting her glasses in interest. “I suppose it would be possible, but you’re suggesting then that Atlantis is real. And that the power in this movie is real.”

“How do you know it isn’t?”

“What would you do with it?” she challenged right back, raising a brow. “You got plans for that power or something?”

The fallen prince made a face. He was still absentmindedly running his claws through Princess Allura’s hair. “No. I simply fear that concentrated sources of quintessence may have this effect in our world—that it bonds to a host and…overtakes them, somehow.” His white brows knitted together. “As it did my own mother, who has been lost to quintessence, and a demon has taken her place.”

Pidge’s gaze fell to Lotor’s hand, which ran along the tip of Princess Allura’s ear. The princess herself was fully asleep against him, her mouth open with a trail of drool slipping against Lotor’s pajama-clad leg.

The girl’s face curled with a sneaky smile. “You’re worried about Allura? Afraid you’re gonna lose her over something, because you loveher?”

Lotor’s eyes snapped to Pidge, his face heating. “I know she has successfully navigated Oriande, but…” He fell silent with emotion for a time before he could add, “My mother came across something of great power, and it changed her.”

The strain in his voice made Pidge’s mischievous smile falter. She hesitated.

The movie played between them as the animated humans fought to steal Kida, who was bonded to the crystal.

Pidge eventually said, voice softer, “Allura’s really powerful. We’re not gonna lose her over anything.”

Lotor’s throat tightened. He continued to stroke Allura’s hair as she slept against him. “You do not know what I have seen quintessence do to people. Even now, if certain groups knew what all Princess Allura could do, they would seek to control her, just as the evil humans in this cartoon wish to do with the crystal-bonded Kida.”

An emotion came over Pidge. “Well—I mean, we wouldn’t let that happen.”

Within the movie, Milo Thatch had accrued a small band willing to risk their lives to retrieve the princess.

Lotor watched, his heart rising in a pound. “Do tell me that they save her,” he demanded. “I will not watch the rest of this if the Princess Kida dies.”

The human girl gave him a look. “It’s a children’s cartoon. They’re not gonna kill off the princess.”

His breath caught oddly, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled his hand away from Allura’s hair. “Right, yes. Of course, they wouldn’t.” He breathed out slowly. “That is well.”

“You take these shows too seriously,” Pidge warned. “Half the fun is knowing that it turns out okay, but not knowing how. You just gotta watch.”

“And Princess Kida?” Lotor demanded. “She is not permanently bonded to the crystal by the end, is she?”

Pidge groaned. “Oh my god. Just watch the movie.”

The princess suddenly whined at the loss of Lotor’s touch, her blue eyes cracking open. “No,” she pleaded blearily. She disjointedly reached up, searching for Lotor’s hand. “Keep petting me; it was quite nice.”

He looked down at her, face tightening in a mix of amusement and protectiveness. “Apologies, princess,” he said, moving to run the back of his knuckles against her warm temple. “I will do as you wish.”

She made a happy noise, settling back into sleep.

***

Lotor did not relax until after Milo Thatch had released Princess Kida from her prison, and until after Princess Kida had saved Atlantis and reappeared from out of the crystal’s aura—to land in Milo’s arms.

“You see?” Pidge called, waving her hand at the screen. “What did I tell you?”

Lotor swallowed down emotion. His fingers stilled against Allura’s stiff curls and the warm of her cheek. Despite the fact that he knew the story to be a children’s fairy tale, an odd burn appeared in his eyes. He exhaled shakily. “You were right,” he relented. “The princess lived.”

“Exactly,” Pidge said. For all her youth, she narrowed her eyes with a critical level of awareness. “They saved the princess. Because she had people to fight for her too.”

He raised his vulnerable eyes to her.

An unspoken truth wavered between them—which was that he and the paladins would fight to protect Princess Allura in much the same way, if it ever came to it.

Then, Pidge broke the mood, her expression shifting with a demonic mischief. She waggled her brows. “You love Princess Allura.” She began to shove at Allura’s legs. “Wake up. Lotor wants to declare his undying love for you and tell you that he’ll save you from crystals and evil people and—”

“—Stop it,” he hissed, his cheeks heating. He grabbed for one of the extra pillows that hung off the edge of the couch—and he flung it directly at Pidge. “You gremlin.”

It struck her soundly, but it did not hide her cackle, nor did it stop Princess Allura waking up from all the unsettled movement and raised voices. Her eyes opened a slit. She made a noise of confusion. “What is—going…on?”

She sleepily raised up from Lotor’s lap, her white curls tumbling down her shoulders.

Pidge opened her mouth to respond with a tease, but Lotor smoothly cut in. “Pidge was just putting in another movie,” he said, voice straining. “Weren’t you, Pidge?”

Allura turned to him, still rapidly blinking her eyes. In that moment, she appeared so entirely vulnerable that Lotor struggled against an instinct to gather her into his arms. “Oh, another one?” She yawned. “But I think—I missed all of this one.”

The human girl crawled away, reaching for her watch with her movie collection on it. “Don’t worry,” she called merrily. “I’m sure Lotor wouldn’t mind reenacting it with you one day.”

“I should hope not,” he retorted, his lavender cheeks still in a flame of emotion. “I’d prefer the princess not be in danger at all. And I am not a Milo Thatch.”

“You are definitely a Milo Thatch,” Pidge deadpanned. “Allura, tell him he’s a Milo Thatch. You know he is.”

The sleepy princess only half-understand the plea. She rubbed at her eyes before leaning back against Lotor, resting her heavy cheek against his shoulder, curling up against him. “He’s—my Milo,” she murmured groggily. “Thatch.”

Lotor pressed his lips together, and he damned the skip of his heart.

Allura’s Milo.

He managed a glare at Pidge, but it lacked fire.

The human girl simply smiled back with that demonic mischief before turning away to look for another movie.