#he got better as soon as he stopped eating normal pasta and switched to the fake ones made with rice and stuff

[coffeeworldsasaki]

Once again chanting in my mind "graphic card" to avoid snapping at my mother saying dumb shit

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[gamer-logic]

Hetalia Platonic Ships Week Day 2: Coronvirus Chaos

When the virus hit, all the countries were forced to cancel the meeting and quarantine at their respective houses, and use zoom. Here are my headcanons of how the 1p and 2ps would fair!

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human.

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild a and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human. Alfred likes to mess with the filters on the screen to tick off Authur but gets serious when it matters. Also, Tony hacks into the meeting from time to time to hear updates so he can better understand how to cure the virus and also troll everyone. Allen is running damage control to keep the kids from killing themselves and they'll often switch.

The Canadians: Similar to the Americans with how they're quarantined at home with the 13 provinces. They actually start panic buying too. However, instead of toilet paper, they buy up everyone's pancake ingredients and a bottle of maple syrup insight into every normal human's befuddlement. Hey, feeding 13 kids is hard! Unlike the states, the 13 last even shorter t thanks to Quebec who sees a prime opportunity to rebel once more. As for groceries, Quebec gets them for his punishment. Kuma and Kumajirou provide great comfort to animals when it starts getting tense and anxious due to cabin fever. Not only that, but they bring home the literal bacon with James when he goes hunting. Watching Kuma go pounding through the woods with Kuma on his back is a sight to behold and has since gained over 5 billion views on Utube. Everyone helps out in remedying this by creating a ginormous fort for them all to sleep in. This eventually includes Quebec when his punishment ends. Kuma likes sitting in Canada's lap during zoom meetings while James often struggles with keeping the provinces in check. Cue him doing an exact impression of the video with the woman sliding in like she's on ice to get the kids out while her husband is on video.

The Frenchmen: Francis, the drama queen that he is, freaks out about not being able to go out anymore and being forced to wear such ugly masks. Luiz could care less as this is exactly what he's been doing and just carries on until he hast to calm Franics' shrieking at how he'd been forced to home and not go shopping anymore. Francis ends up collaborating with Flavio in his new mask line to remedy the 'threat to fashion everywhere.' He also keeps up with his and Author's rivalry by mail, fondly reminding him of the previous years dealing with ink and a quill. Both Francis and Author have their own chatroom dubbed 'Britain and France's fighting chatroom," or more affectionately, "The 100 years chat."

The German Brothers: They all buy up the beer and Ludwig starts implementing extra training because 'you can't let a pandemic let you get soft! Now run like you're running from a human-sized germ!' Their house soon becomes a minefield with the prank war Lutz and Prussia initiate. Klaus loves the extra peace and quiet he's been getting now. Blackie, Astor, and Berlitz are happy their humans are home much more often now and are getting very spoiled. Ludwig takes control of the computer while on zoom because he knows what the others would do with they got it. Lutz and Gilbert keep making fart sounds and shuffling noises in the background, leaving Klaus to just sigh and a tomato face Ludwig to stammer on with the meeting.

The Italians: Flavio takes one look at the masks and immediately gets inspired for a new, pandemic edition, line of masks, and mask-related cloths including the two in one mask dress. Luciano let all his men go home with their only orders to be safe and stay healthy as he's not willing to relive the Black Plague. Lovino will never admit this, but he's kind of glad for the pandemic since it's given him the chance to spend time with his brother. Though this doesn't;t stop Spain from calling to check in 3 times a day. Feliciano tries to do all kinds of new things to keep everyone's spirits up and is also the guy who stole all the store's pasta, tomatoes, and sauce. Flavio makes all four of them show up fashionably late to the zoom conference despite it being online.

The Russians: Viktor keeps up with his work as much as possible and both he and Ivan have to hide their grins when their president has to quarantine. They don't really like him much. Ivan tries looking at pictures of sunflowers to keep himself occupied. He fears the loneliness quarantine brings, but Viktor tries to be around more so he doesn't get so lonely as he's also felt that pain before. He doesn't want Ivan to be like him who doesn't have friends nor the time for them. Out of the two, Viktor is the most serious about his work and is often seen using zoom for meetings.

The Japanese: Both are enjoying the introvert's paradise but are also worrying over the rising cases in their countries especially since they had to host the Olympics. They did so flawlessly but also struggled in keeping things as stable as possible. They both hold guilt for putting their citizens in such a dangerous situation. Both end up doing a video game/anime marathon with the rest of the Otaku club over zoom. Kuro sets to work refining his swordsmanship skills and actually starts forging new ones. He's a great weaponsmith! Kiku also takes the time to practice his calligraphy. They're the one's who'd have anime playing in the background or their cat, Japaneko, getting in the way.

And last but not least, the ones who started it all, the Chinese: Yao continually works around the clock trying to analyze the bad and how the pandemic got out of hand. Xiao ends up being the one who actually started this because he dared the guy to at the soup. He feels a lot of guilt over this and, in a rare showing of maturity from him, is also working by Yao to fix his mistake that not only risked his and everyone else's people but also killed so many. The pandemic will likely be one of their greatest shames. On a lighter note, Yao can't figure out how zoom works and Xiao likes programming troll hacks into the computer to mess with him.

[georgescatcafe]

vermillion — 3

rating: t warning/s: period-typical homophobia pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: cowboy x city boy au, rancher sapnap, rich george, coming of age, slow burn word count: 3,306 summary: When Sapnap gets sent into the city to get quick cash for his family’s struggling ranch, he’s not expecting much from the experience—lights aren’t very blinding when held up to the Sun, and he’s not exactly there to play around. But then he meets George, a boy built on money, who quickly sweeps in not just paying customers but also Sapnap, leading him into what any ruddy country boy would call the mouth of the Devil: high society. Cue a summer spent by each other’s side while feelings run unbidden, uncaring of deadlines and restraints.

It should be enough for the pair—and for awhile, it is, right up until it isn’t.

+ao3 +masterpost

;;

George’s parents aren’t even home. They get inside, George unlocking the door and calling out a tentative greeting only to be met with silence. Nick turns to him.

“Dinner, maybe,” George says. He readjusts Nick’s bag from where it’s started to slide down his arm. “Come on. I can show you to your room.” Nick doesn’t have a room, not yet, he knows, but he follows George anyway when he starts walking out the foyer and past the living room, er, both living rooms. He can’t help but crane his neck when they pass a doorway leading to what looks like an open dining room and adjoining kitchen. He bumps into George then, the other having stopped at the base of a staircase to wait for him.

Nick stutters out an apology.

“It’s fine,” George replies. “I can give you a proper tour in the morning, if you want?”

Nick will have to head out earlier, to set up at the market. “Maybe,” he says.

George smiles.

Nick’s room is apparently the first room on the left.

“The bathroom is right at the end of the hall,” George says, “and my bedroom is basically right across from yours.” He points at another, slimmer door. “Linen closet if you get cold. Or if you want to switch out your pillowcase or something.” And another door. “Another guest room. We don’t have company, but sometimes my parents strike unexpected deals and we end up having someone in there. If they’re at some dinner tonight, that might happen.”

“You’re going to tell them I’m here, right?”

George hasn’t stopped smiling, but it’s dull, eyes dark and shadowed, cheeks strained. “They’ll know; don’t worry.”

“I can stay in my truck,” Nick tells him. “It’s fine.”

“But you don’t have to,” George says. “Seriously, don’t worry about my parents.” He nods to the bathroom. “We’ve got extra toothbrushes if you need them. I’ll be in my room. You won’t have to look at me anymore.”

“I like looking at you,” Nick says and then wishes he didn’t because the smile finally drops from George’s lips only for the shadows in his eyes to expand and cover his entire face. “I didn’t mean that,” he adds.

“Yeah,” George replies, “I know you didn’t.” He turns, heading towards his room. “Anyway, I’ll be in here if you need me.” He tries a smile again. It’s weak, and Nick feels bile rise in his throat. He’s not sure brushing his teeth will make the sensation go away. “Goodnight, Sapnap.”

“Night, George.”

When he spits for the nth time over the sink, the tangy sharp taste remains. Being right is always fun until it isn’t. Nick splashes water over his face, cold and stinging. When he looks up, his eyes are bordering red. He squeezes them shut before pressing his fingers into them. When he pulls his hands away, his eyes are only even more red. Whatever. He takes his toothbrush and heads back to his room.

He can’t help the glance he sends to George’s door as he passes. The lights are off. He bites back the sigh threatening to slip out and keeps walking.

;; 

Despite the bed which is comfortable as hell, sleep doesn’t come easy. Every creak from downstairs puts Nick on edge, and a couple of times he hears creaking right outside his door, and he’s left to wonder just what it is George is doing out there. If it’s even George walking around. The room he’s in is big, with a high ceiling and tall windows, even for a second-storey bedroom, and it leaves him feeling open and exposed, and part of him wonders if it’d have just been better to sleep in his truck, in that market parking lot. Yeah, he was equally exposed there, but he was also in the middle of the city where shouting could wake up pretty much anyone. And he wasn’t the only one asleep under the open sky. Here, George is his friend, but that’s a new term, and Nick doesn’t plan on meeting George’s parents, not really. Here, he’s basically on his own.

Nick rolls over, tugging the sheets higher, tucking them right under his chin. It’s fine. He’s fine. It’s like first sleepover jitters. He just needs to get over it.

But there’s voices now, from downstairs, and his ears strain as he tries to listen is. It’s all accented, so it’s hard to pick out if George is among the voices. Definitely his parents, though. Nick groans, finally just giving a rough jerk to the sheets and pulling them fully over his head.

And the damn footsteps, again and again, going past his door. Seriously, what the fuck is George doing? If he didn’t hate the idea of meeting George’s parents, especially when he’s the way he is, he’d go out there and force the other to stop, marching him back to bed and tucking him in himself.

In the least weirdest way possible.

Eventually, the voices die down, and with them, so do the footsteps. Nick lets out a breath. When he looks over to the window, he’s grateful to see it’s still dark out. There’s still a chance for more than a couple of hours… hopefully.

 ;;

Morning is not kind to Nick. He wakes to birdsong, sunlight on his face, and that’s well enough, but it’s when he goes downstairs, planning to leave a note for George and his parents, thanking the family for their hospitality, that he sees a note is unnecessary.

“Um,” he says, and then, “good morning, sir.”

George’s father looks nice enough, if you look past the air of frigid coolness X from him while he butters a slice of toast. “Good morning,” the man replies. “Are you Nick?” The name comes out after a hesitation, and it makes Nick want to slam his head into the sparkling granite counter, embarrassment flooding him when he realizes George probably introduced him as Sapnap.

But all he does is smile and nod his head. “Yes, sir,” he replies. “You’re George’s father?” At the affirmative, he continues: “Thank you for letting me stay here. I know it’s probably inconvenient, and I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“It’s alright,” George’s dad offers a polite smile. “George said you’re a Pappas?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick thinks he’ll be using that phrase a lot, “son of Glenn Pappas.”

“I’ve spoken to him once or twice,” the man thinks for a moment, “has your father ever mentioned a Davidson family?”

“I think I’ve heard that name, sir,” Nick replies. “I’m guessing you’re Mr. Davidson?”

“Guessed right,” Mr. Davidson replies. He spies the clock over the stove. “Well, you know us working men, I’m off. Take George with you when you go. I tell him he’s inside too often.”

Nick nods as Mr. Davidson takes a final sip from the mug that’s been sitting on the counter, placing it delicately in the sink before bidding Nick goodbye and disappearing out the doors and out the house. Nick stands alone in the kitchen before heading back upstairs to wake George.

George does not rise after the first knock, nor the second nor third.

Finally, Nick opens the door.

“George,” he says. “Wake up.”

The lump on the bed groans, shifting before settling again.

Nick sighs. “I had to talk to your dad. You have to wake up. George, what the hell.”

The blankets fall away as George sits upright, rigid. “You what?”

“Yeah,” Nick replies, “I went downstairs because I need to go to the market soon, and your dad was down there. He told me to take you with me.”

“Good,” George says at that, finally climbing out of bed, his lounge pants catching on his toes with every step he takes towards what Nick assumes is the closet. “Not good that you met my dad, though. You’re okay?”

“I didn’t want to,” Nick admits, “but he knew Pa, so I guess it went fine?”

“Stockyards, remember?” George sends him a smile oddly bright for someone who didn’t want to wake up a minute ago. “Anyway, get out.”

“What?” Nick takes a step back anyway.

“I’m going to get dressed,” George tells him, disappearing into, yup, the closet. “Get out.”

“Oh my God,” but Nick still exits the room, shutting the door behind him.

George comes out a couple minutes later, tugging a jacket on over his shoulders.

“You’re going to get hot later,” Nick says, but George waves him off.

“I’m cold now.” George leads the way downstairs. “Now come on, I’m fucking hungry. What do you want from McDonald’s? There’s one on the way back to the market.”

 ;;

Nick watches in both admiration and horror as George orders half the breakfast menu then proceeds to eat that and drink a large orange juice. Normally, it’d be just admiration, but George is so skinny—there’s no way he can just fit all that in there without dying. But he does, and when Nick still hasn’t exited out the parking lot after thirty seconds, George turns to him with a cocked brow.

“Weren’t you the one wanting to leave early?”

So Nick drives.

 ;;

The day passes much like the last, but with less awkward pauses and hesitation. Banter comes easy between the two of them, and George brings in customers while Nick leaves them satisfied with their purchase. The day’s inventory depletes quickly, and for that, Nick allows them an early dinner, the two of them packing up the truck and heading out before the sun’s even thought about reaching the horizon.

As they sit nursing sweet tea and picking at their pasta, George gives a sigh. “You can stay the night again,” he says.

“Do you want me to stay the night?” Nick asks.

George shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean,” he blinks, staring into his paglia e fieno before winding the fettuccine around his fork, “I like your company. I just mean—I don’t—I don’t know what I mean.” He takes a bite of his food. “Do you feel like you’re intruding?”

“No,” Nick replies, “I feel paranoid. Dissected, maybe.”

George nods, stabbing again at his pasta. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah.” He sets down his silverware finally, the metal making a small clink against his plate. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Can’t help it,” Nick says. “Oh, uh, what were you doing last night? I heard… were you pacing?”

George picks up his fork, and with the action, the pasta-twirling starts again. Nick refrains from reaching across the table to still his hand. “Yeah, that was—I went downstairs a couple times, and a couple times I was going to see if you,” he laughs, quiet, embarrassed, cheeks an obvious red, “were all settled in and stuff.”

He wasn’t. “I was,” Nick tells him, offering the other a smile. “No checking-up necessary.”

George smiles back.

;; 

It takes a couple more nights at the Davidson’s before Nick meets George’s mother. Equally nice as her husband, equally frigid. “You must be the Pappas boy,” she tells him. “Nick, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, “and you’re Mrs. Davidson?”

She smiles at him, and Nick finds himself smiling back, though he keeps a good few steps between them. “George says he’s been working with you,” she continues, “at the market downtown?” Nick nods, and she nods too. “Good. He needs to get out more.”

“He’s definitely out more now,” Nick says, and she smiles again, tighter at the corners, though. Right. He straightens. “I’ve told your husband but thank you again for letting me stay here. I’m sure it’s inconvenient, but—”

“If Harry said it’s alright, then it’s not a problem,” Mrs. Davidson interrupts him. “And we’re equally grateful you’re getting our son out of the house. Out of his room, honestly.” She shakes her head. “Always did wonderfully at banquets.” Elegant fingers rub at the pearls on her wrist. “He’s very good at speaking when spoken to, that means.” The smile she wears now is soft, gentle as the light from above the stove.

Nick isn’t sure whether or not he’s supposed to laugh. He tugs at his shirt collar. “Well, I’m glad to help. He’s a great business partner.”

Wherever Mrs. Davidson is, it isn’t with Nick. Her murmured yes is as much a dismissal as Nick thinks he’ll get. He bows his head and wishes her a goodnight. He doesn’t hear a reply.

 ;;

“Your ma is nice,” Nick tells George when he gets upstairs, finding the other sitting at his desk in his room. “Is it really not a problem? Me being here?”

George leans back in his chair, pushing himself away from the desk. “Yeah,” he finally says. “It’s not. We’ve got the space, anyway. You went three days without meeting my mum.”

“Not as much luck with your dad,” Nick says, and George laughs. When George pulls himself back into his desk, fiddling with the various knickknacks there before scratching his pencil across a notebook page, Nick wonders about what his parents said.

George talked about having friends—talks about having friends, even. He didn’t sound close to them, not really, didn’t even sound like he enjoyed having them, but he had them. Has them. Nick frowns, taking a seat at the foot of George’s bed before falling back onto the soft duvet. George doesn’t glance up from his writing.

“Are you going to see your friends at all?” he finally asks. “I mean, I know you said you don’t want to bother, but still….”

At that, George straightens, setting down his pencil and turning to look at Nick. “Anna and Blair are in Paris; Vince, Theo, and Gordon are back in the UK; Beth and Seraphina are in Switzerland. Everyone else is either away on summer internships or partying at South Beach.”

“And the people you named… are you close to them?” George sends him a look and Nick is quick to revise. “As close as you can be, I mean.”

“Sometimes,” George says before frowning. “Why? Do you want to stay at a hotel or something?”

“Stop acting like it’s the end of the world if I sleep in my truck,” is what Nick tells him first, and then, “and no. I was just curious. Before, you were by yourself, and now it feels like you’re always with me. I know you said you can’t really trust your friends, but you don’t even have plans with them.”

“It’s unconventional, yeah,” George says, turning back to his desk, “but it’s fine. I like what we’re doing at the market, and I like my friends in small doses. You, that exception.”

“Probably because I’m not someone that would leave you behind for South Beach,” Nick replies, and George allows a small laugh at that. Nick grins. “Alright,” he says, “I’m going to go get ready for bed. See you in the morning?”

George nods and lifts a hand in a wave. “See you in the morning.”

Right before shutting the door, Nick pauses. George does too. When they look at each other, Nick opens his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, before he realizes he doesn’t even know what those words are. He shakes his head, closing the door quietly behind him.

 ;;

He’s practically forgotten about the conversation when George brings it up again. “My parents,” he begins, “what’d they tell you?”

Nick freezes. “Nothing,” he replies, slicing a liver, eyes locked on the organ. Can’t afford to mess up and all that.

“Sapnap,” George says. “They told you something.”

“They didn’t!” Nick bites his lip and squints, lining his knife up again. Really, he’s got to get this cut right. He does.

“Nick.”

He puts the knife down. “They just said that you don’t go outside much and that I help with that. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Nothing with my parents is ever not a big deal,” George sneers. “I can’t believe this. So what—I fucking hate my friends, what about it?”

“Nothing about it!” Nick tells him, packaging the sliced liver. “Really, I was just wondering if you really didn’t have any plans. I think this is something that’s not a big deal.”

“No, no,” George sinks to the floor, squatting, palms pressed over his eyes, “it is a big deal.”

Nick frowns, lowering himself to pull George’s hands away from his face. “Everyone likes a little alone time, and you’re, like, living in a pit of snakes. How is it a big deal?”

George glares at him. “Let’s just say it’s not a very good look when you’re inside all day, and when you’re not inside, your usually with girls that you aren’t having an affair with.”

“You’re a teenager; how the hell would you have an affair?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” George replies, flat. “I look fucking weird! To my parents and to all their stupid business partners! Especially here. We literally work with oil companies and ranchers, Sapnap.” He jerks his arms free of Nick’s grasp to cover his face again. “No wonder they stopped putting up a fuss about you—you make me look good! I’m actually working, getting work experience, and to have a friend like you, a real, rugged, gritty guy—oh my God.” He drags his hands down his face to look up at Nick. “That’s so dumb.”

“So I make you look like a man?” Nick asks, and then blinks, shaking his head. “Also, stopped… putting up a fuss? So they didn’t approve at first?”

“Of course they didn’t approve,” George hisses. “I never do stuff like that, what I did with you, they were—not terrified, but you know.” He widens his eyes, lips set in a stern frown. Nick nods, though he’s not sure he knows. George continues anyway, “It’s messy. Families are messy.”

“Yeah, they are,” Nick agrees, though his was always pretty neat. Oh well. “But it’s fine,” he tries a smile, though the frown doesn’t leave George’s face, “I didn’t think anything of it, and your parents are happy with you—I see no downsides.”

“It’s the principle, Sapnap,” George tells him, but finally, he gives a small smile too. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want to maybe get off the floor now?” Nick asks, and George nods.

They rise, and Nick clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t know how good that was for business.”

“Sorry,” George replies, “I don’t usually… do that.”

“I know,” Nick says. When he smiles, George smiles back, zero hesitation.

;; 

The next day, George asks him how long he’s staying. Nick frowns down at his street tacos. “Until all the meat sells,” he says, “and then I’ll go home, get more meat, and stay until that sells out.”

“All summer?” George asks.

“All summer,” Nick replies.

George stares at a point past Nick’s shoulder. “Huh,” he says. “Well, you’ve been here a week. Are you going home soon?”

“Give it another week.”

George nods. “How many trips are you thinking?”

Nick shrugs.

“Do you think I could go with you on one?”

Again, Nick shrugs.

George narrows his eyes before huffing. “I want to see the ranch.”

“It’s got the animals you sell and grass,” Nick says. “What are you hoping for?”

“Consider it my South Beach,” George replies.

“Go to Galveston, then,” Nick retorts.

“Take me to Galveston, then.” When Nick looks across the table at him, George is serious.

Nick sighs. “Do you mean it?”

George doesn’t reply.

Another sigh. “Maybe. Can’t you drive?”

“My mom doesn’t want me to risk it,” George tells him, and the statement is so ridiculous it makes Nick choke on his next bite of taco. “What?” George asks, brows furrowing. “It’s true!”

Nick swallows as best he can before taking a drink of water. “I know,” he replies. “That’s what makes it so terrible.”

;;

next

[smol-and-grumpy]

Teacher Of The Year - P.04

Pairing: Professor Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Heartbroken and restless, she walked into a bar with the full intention of getting smashed but she got more than she bargained for. Much more.

Warnings: Fluff and feelings in this chapter

WC: 2133

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s another night that Dean lies awake and can’t seem to be catching on sleep. Which is weird, since normally, when he has sex, he’s able to fall asleep really quickly, will usually fall into a dreamless sleep and only wake up when his alarm goes off. 

But tonight is different, he can’t stop thinking about her, about the things he said to her. 

After she left, he picked up the faculty handbook and read every single page of it and oh my god, there were so many pages. At the end, his head was spinning and he kind of had a hard time getting it all into his head so he quickly prepared his lessons for the next day, realizing that their schedule won’t clash and he won’t get to see her (unless he asks her to stay or meet her outside of school, but he doesn’t really want to come across as desperate, even that’s probably all he is), and went home.

Now he’s here in his bed, it’s almost midnight and he debates with himself if it would be weird for him to text her. Of course it would, that’s why he does it anyway. 

D: How are you? Dean x

There’s no answer, even after thirty minutes. Well, maybe that really was not his best move after all.

He turns around, switching off the bedside light and is about to make himself cozy when his phone lights up.

Y/N: How did you get my number?

Oh, he forgot that she didn’t actually give him her number but instead he looked at the student lists and got her number out of that. Well, no turning back now, right?

D: I have my ways.

Y/N: My ass is sore. 

Dean has to chuckle at that. 

D: I’m sorry, I got carried away.

He really did get carried away. Her ass was just too nice not to spank so hard and he loved it, loved every second of it. Loved how after he brought his hand down, there was immediately a red hand print of his. Loved to see that it’s his. 

Y/N: It’s okay, I’m just laying on my stomach. I hope I can sit down for class tomorrow.

Dean bites down on his bottom lip. There’s really a lot he would give right now to have class with her tomorrow. Wants to see her squirming in her seat when she sits down, knowing that he did that to her. His dick starts to twitch in his pants, and he thinks that it’s crazy how little stimulation it needs lately.

D: I’m a little disappointed that I won’t see you in class and see you try to sit tomorrow.

Y/N: Maybe I can see you later in the evening.

Dean frowns before a little smile creeps on his face. Maybe he’s not such an idiot after all. Maybe she’s in this as much as he is. 

D: I’d love that. 

D: Now go to sleep.

D: Good night, sweetheart

Y/N: Good night, professor xx

Oh, she knows exactly what she’s doing to him with that. Dean chuckles, places his phone back on it’s charger and turns around, hoping sleep comes soon.

  She hasn’t seen Dean yet today, since she didn’t have classes with him, but just thinking about him alone makes her heart jump and thumb ridiculously fast in her chest. What the hell’s wrong with her? She can’t be falling for him already, can she? It’s just a stupid crush is what it is. At least that’s what she tries to tell herself. 

There’s no way that she can let herself fall in love with a professor. He probably has other girls lined up too, doesn’t really think she’s the only one. He’s so good looking, he could literally have any girl he wants, since they are all lusting after him. She also doubts that he wants anything more to do with her than teaching her the kinks that she might or might not be into. There’s no way that this could lead to anything more, not that she wants to anyway. 

There are only ten minutes left of her class, and then she’ll be able to go to her room, sulk a little, maybe, because Dean didn’t seek her out today. Perhaps it’s a sign? Maybe it was best they end it now before it can start. These things should not last, should they?

Honestly, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that her body aches for him, aches for his touch, his kisses, hell, even his spanks. Her pussy feels incredibly empty and she was so horny this morning that she rubbed herself off in the showers and she did come but it took a ridiculously long time because she couldn’t quite reach the places he manages to reach and her fingers didn’t feel quite right like his fingers do. Hers are short and thin and while his are thick and long, oh god, so thick. After her orgasm, she felt emptier than before, if that was even possible.

About thirty seconds after her class ended, her phone vibrates and she turns it around on her table. Thumbing open the message, her heart rate shoots up significantly. 

D: Y/N, come to my apartment at 6? Please? 

Her cheeks begin to burn up and her lips widen to a grin. He even added a ‘please’ and she thinks it’s ridiculously cute how he’s trying to be all polite and not force her into anything. She thinks he must have a hard time dealing with it since he’s a person of authority to her but he wants to make sure that she knows that she can say no anytime she wants. Her face hurts from grinning and she probably looks like a complete idiot but honestly, she just didn’t care.

Y/N: I guess I can do that.

Every fiber in her body wants to write FUCK YES but she didn’t want to sound desperate, even though her body aches and there’s a tingly feeling down there. A tingly feelings that’s been there since she met him a couple of nights ago. It’s really something he hasn’t felt before.

D: Good. And oh, hey, bring the list! xx

She smirks at the ‘xx’ he sent her, stares at the phone for longer than she should have and only remembers that she’s still sitting in class as the classroom starts to fill up again. She tucks her phone away, puts everything into her backpack and leaves with a growing tingly feeling between her legs. She wonders how she should survive today without getting herself off again. She’s all hot and bothered and he didn’t even do anything yet. This is seriously fucked up.  

That damn list, though. She forgot about it and now she has about an hour to list her kinks, kinks she doesn’t even know she has. Kinks she doesn’t even know exist! She’s so close to just throwing the whole idea out of the window. Is actually close to just go there and tell him that they should abandon that damn list and just fuck however they like, but then again, what does she like? She doesn’t know, since sex with her ex has been mostly vanilla. 

Her ex wasn’t really into foreplay either, at least he never went down on her, said he doesn’t like how it tastes. She went down on him a couple of times, but didn’t feel like she should when he doesn’t do the same for her and he would then say that it’s not really fair since she doesn’t complain about how his dick tastes like he does with her pussy. He’d climb on top of her, missionary style and always comes on her stomach. It’s always the same too, the same things over and over. Kissing, stroking, taking off clothes, him on top, he comes, they sleep. She has to be quick with rubbing herself if she wanted to come at all, because it would always be over way too soon. 

Now, looking back, she guesses that the relationship was doomed to fail anyway and she has zero regrets of finding him in a compromising position with another girl.

 *

 She doesn’t have a car while she’s on campus because she doesn’t need one and public transport honestly creeps her out a little, so like the last time she was here, she walks the couple of blocks to Dean’s apartment. Thankfully he didn’t live that far out. 

After she arrives, she takes the stairs up to his apartment, still vaguely remembers that it was on the fourth floor. She’s all hot when she arrives, her cheeks are flush from climbing the stairs and she takes a couple of seconds to recollect herself. Knocking at the door to his apartment, she looks at it, sees one crescent moon etched into the wood of the frame, blushes when she remembers what happened here a couple of nights ago.

“Come in.” He calls out from inside and she opens up the door, letting herself into the little space.

Dean’s apartment is not big. It has a kitchen, a dining table that sits four. There’s also a sofa and a TV. There’s only one bedroom and one bathroom but it’s enough for one person and it’s certainly more spacious than her dorm room. 

“I hope you’re hungry.” Dean smiles brightly as he juggles with a pan and plates in his hands.

“Oh! Oh, sure.” She nods. But honestly, she doesn’t even know that she was hungry until now that she smells food and her stomach starts to growl. 

Y/N sits down at the table and it’s then that she realizes that she hasn't had anything in her belly since breakfast. She would’ve eaten something at lunch but she had to change buildings and frankly, there was just no time. When she got back to her apartment, she was thinking about that list and got distracted.

“Et voilà.” Dean chirps as he places a plate in front of her.

“Oh god, it smells so good.” Her mouth starts to water and she wonders what other talents this man has in stores for her other than looking and cooking ridiculously delicious. 

She hasn’t tried it yet, though, wouldn’t know if it’s really any good but from the way it smells it must be great.

“Pasta with homemade pesto.” He declares before he sits down and pours them both some wine. He’s looking a little proud too, and she thinks it’s cute. 

“Please, not too much for me.” She interrupts his wine-pouring. “I’d rather not be hungover again tomorrow in class.”

“Sure.” He smirks at that and she thinks that he probably remembers her hungover self sitting in third row.

They eat and talk throughout the meal and she gets to know Dean better. 

Apparently, he likes to cook, and he’s hella good at it, the pesto was indeed finger licking good. She found out that he has a brother, Sammy (well, Samuel, or Sam, but actually never Sammy because Sam apparently doesn’t like to be called that). Sam’s a hot shot lawyer and partner at a firm in Chicago and she makes a mental note to track him down should she get into any troubles because apparently, he’s the one to turn to. 

He talks a lot about Sam, told her how they grew up together, that he was the sole caregiver since their dad was busy with his own company and didn’t have time for the both of them. It seems like the mom is apparently out of the picture, she doesn’t know what happens or what is going on but she doesn’t feel like it’s her place to ask. 

Dean first started to study Mechanical Engineering at MIT but soon dropped out because he and Sam had to take over the family business after their father’s death. When Sam decided that he’d had enough of the family business, Dean sold it, which led him to move on to study as well and now he’s teaching his second passion, history. She can’t say she minds his change of direction because it led him here. If he wouldn’t have done it, she wouldn’t be sitting here at this very table, wouldn’t be staring into his eyes that are still green even with the dark rimmed glasses. She blushes and lowers her head, hopes that he didn’t notice her staring.

After the meal she wants to help him clean up but he wouldn’t have any of it. He tells her to go sit her sweet ass on the couch and wait for him, but not before he gently squeezed it and pulled her close for a kiss leaving her longing for more.

P.05

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Love Her (Part 4)

Summary: After Dean and the reader’s late night chat, things are going a little better at home, especially when the two try to celebrate the reader’s birthday. But when Rae wakes them both up that night, Dean sees something the reader wishes he hadn’t and he’s not letting her run away from a necessary conversation...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death

______

“Y/N,” said Dean the next afternoon, Ryan clinging to his back in a piggyback ride while he made up a few sandwiches. “Want a sandwich? Game comes on soon.”

“No thanks,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.

“Can I cook you something?” he asked.

“I could go for some mac and cheese!” said Sam from the couch. He looked back with a smile, Dean rolling his eyes. “Y/N, you want some mac and cheese, right?”

“Make your own mac and cheese, Sammy,” said Dean, bending down to let Ryan off of him before handing him his plate. “Eat your carrots too for me, buddy.”

Ryan hummed and walked his plate over to the table where Rae was already eating. 

“I actually could go for some mac and cheese. Buffalo mac and cheese. Put a little sauce in it and it is so good,” you said.

“Dean, we want that,” said Sam with a smirk.

“You have legs,” said Dean.

“I can make it,” you said.

“I didn’t mean for you to-” said Sam.

“I normally cook for myself. I’m used to it,” you said as you headed for the pantry.

“Why don’t you show me and then I can whip it up whenever you want some?” asked Dean.

“Alright,” you said. You went over to the table while waiting for the water to boil, getting Ryan to eat a few carrots and Rae some of her apple slices. Sam got up and chatted with Dean in the kitchen for a bit until the twins were done eating and took off to the family room to keep playing.

“Thank you,” said Dean when you brought back their empty plates and stuck them in the dishwasher.

“So Y/N, any ideas of what you’d be interested in for a birthday present?” asked Sam.

“Uh, I’m not even having a party. I don’t need a present,” you said.

“Not having a party huh,” said Sam, taking a sip from his glass, glancing at Dean.

“I thought I told you I don’t want one,” you said to Dean.

“I thought I told you it wasn’t up for debate,” said Dean with a smile, dumping some pasta in the water. “Birthday parties are a thing from now on, even small ones.”

“You’re incredibly annoying,” you said.

“Thank you,” he said as he laughed. “How about next Friday night we just have Sam and my parents over. We can get takeout from your favorite restaurant, have a little cake. I promise no streamers or balloons.”

“I’m not big on birthday parties,” you said. Dean frowned and leaned back against the counter.

“Why don’t you take her to the mall?” asked Sam.

“The mall?” said Dean, raising an eyebrow.

“She is a teenage girl. They like going to the mall,” said Sam.

“Stereotyping much?” you said.

“So you don’t want to go to the mall?” asked Dean.

“I mean, I do, I just...don’t have much money right now,” you said. 

“It’s your birthday. I’m paying,” said Dean. “We’ll take a few hours, go shopping, maybe catch a horror movie? Maybe we could meet up with Uncle Sammy and the twins for dinner out?”

“Fine,” you sighed.

“We’re gonna have fun. I promise.”

Friday Afternoon

“Okay,” said Dean as you walked into the mall. “Where do you want to go first?”

“I don’t care,” you said, getting a bump on the arm.

“Come on. My treat. Teenager with dad’s credit card. Dream come true, right?”

“You’re not my dad, Dean,” you said.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Still, let’s do some shopping. I know you don’t have a lot. What about a new coat for fall? It’s starting to get pretty cool out.”

“My sweatshirt is fine,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean, stopping you where you walked. “You need things like a warm coat and winter boots. I’m not gonna let you max out my card or anything but let’s have some fun. What’s something you’ve always wanted?”

“I kinda always wanted one of those parka jackets, with like the fuzzy hood,” you said.

“I think that’s a great place to start,” he smiled. “It’s gonna start being winter soon enough.”

“Okay,” said Dean, looking more like a pack mule than anything about two hours later. “We got jackets, jeans, boots, some clothes, you ducked in your girl store and I learned bras are expensive, and I bought you a flannel cause the fact you own none is frankly appalling to me. What do you say we drop this stuff off in the trunk and then hit up the movies?”

“I’m actually not a fan of horror movies,” you said.

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of other fun stuff to do around here.”

“I can’t believe you played laser tag with a bunch of teenagers,” you said a few hours later after dinner and you were walking back through the parking lot. “And were actually good!”

“I’m thirty seven, not dead,” he chuckled. “You were really good too. We should get Sam to join us sometime. We haven’t been in years.”

“He’s nice. Sam,” you said.

“He’s pretty alright for a little brother,” smiled Dean. “It takes a while but someday they do eventually get big enough to start having your back too.”

“The twins adore you, you know,” you said. “Rae and Ryan. You pay attention to them, read to them at night...they never really had anyone to do that for them.”

“Yeah, they did,” he said. “I think that’s part of why you’re so hesitant with me sometimes. You don’t know how to let someone take care of you anymore.”

“I don’t want to get used to something like that. I’m done with high school in a few years. I’ll be an adult on my own,” you said, scuffing your sneaker on the pavement.

“You’ll be an adult but not on your own,” he said. 

“Mhm.”

“Are you ever going to like, not hate me?” he asked. You looked over at him and he smiled.

“I don’t hate you, Dean. I’m just tired of getting my hopes up. After knowing what my dad did...I’m done with the parents thing,” you said.

“There’s more good people in the world than bad. They just don’t get the attention the bad ones do,” he said.

“It still doesn’t mean I want parents again,” you said.

“You don’t want to get hurt again. There’s a difference,” he said.

“Said the still single man,” you said.

“True. But at least I’m willing to risk getting hurt again,” he said. 

“How?” you asked.

“You, for starters,” he said.

“How could I hurt you though?”

“Forget it,” he said as he shook his head. “So you have fun? Sweet sixteen. Going to get your permit and be asking to borrow my car soon?”

“Maybe,” you said, shrugging as he quickened his walk.

“What?” you asked as he pulled you along. You saw a group of guys hanging around a car parked near yours and a whistle come from one of them as you went past.

Dean stiffened beside you and quickly had the both of you in the car and pulling away.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Mhm.”

“You’re white knuckling the wheel,” you said.

“I’m fine. Why don’t you put something on the radio?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean’s face contorting after a moment. “What?”

“Is this what you call music?” he said, pretending to gag.

“Very mature, Dean,” you said. “Not everyone is in love with old man music like you.”

“Old man music? You’re gonna be hearing a lot of it from now on so I’d get used to it if I were you.”

It was around midnight when you heard shuffling outside your room. You sighed and sat up, expecting Rae to be there. You wearily went over to the door and opened it, Rae giggling outside.

“Rae,” you whispered. “It’s bedtime.”

“What’s going on?” yawned Dean, padding down a hall on the other side of the house. He rubbed his eyes and looked between the two of you. “I heard giggling.”

“I forgot to say I love you at bedtime,” she said, looking up at you.

“I love you too,” you said, giving her a hug. “Now go to bed.”

“Okay,” she said, taking back off upstairs. Dean shook his head but smiled, heading back for his room when he spun back around suddenly.

“Y/N. Were you crying?” asked Dean. 

“What? No,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “I’m just tired. Stayed up too late.”

He walked over to the wall and flipped on the light switch. You turned around to go back to your own room but he let out a sigh. You turned back and looked up a him, Dean cocking his head.

“Why are you crying, sweetheart? Was it tonight? I’m sorry for making you have a birthday party. I didn’t think it would make you this upset,” he said as he walked over and put his hands on your arms.

“It’s stupid,” you said, looking away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” he said. “Come on.”

He walked over and hit the light switch off, pulling you with him to the kitchen and reaching into a tall cabinet, pulling down a box of Oreos and dragging you over to his room.

“This is pretty,” you said, looking around the nice but cozy bedroom. It was bigger than the other ones in the house but it was warm and felt like a safe place.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling you over to the undisturbed side of the bed. He grabbed a blanket from a chair in the corner and gave it to you, settling back in bed and hitting the lamp on his nightstand before he tore open the container.

“When in doubt, cookies always help,” he said. You watched him eat one for a moment, finding one being held out in front of your face. “Want one?”

You shook your head and looked away, putting your back to him.

“Alright,” he said, the package being moved to his nightstand. “What’d I do?”

“You always want to talk about everything. Can’t you just be quiet for once?” you said. You heard him hum and the bed shift. You felt Dean wrap his arms around you and pull you into his side. “What are you doing?”

“You look like you could use a hug right now,” he said. You took a shaky breath but let yourself rest your head on his shoulder. “You can always tell me anything.”

“For fucks sake,” you said. “You don’t even...I’m upset because of you.”

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked, moving to shift away but you shook your head.

“You’re...nice. You’re always nice, even when I’m mean. You gave the twins a birthday party. You gave me a birthday party. I have a winter coat that fits for the first time in five years. You make us dinner and ask about school and you give us blankets-”

“Slow down,” said Dean. “It’s okay.”

You started to cry again, wiping off your face as best you could, Dean using his shirt to get the parts you missed.

“I don’t want to leave here,” you said, looking up at him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.

“I’m sixteen though, not five.”

“I submitted the initial paperwork for Rae and Ryan earlier this week,” he said. You swallowed, Dean’s face soft. “I requested yours too.”

“What?”

“I put in the first step paperwork for your adoption,” he said. You pulled away and looked over at him, Dean letting out a small sigh. “I wanted to surprise you, all of you. But there was a complication with your paperwork it turned out.”

“What complication,” you asked.

“Your dad is refusing to sign the last papers for you,” he said.

“I thought he already got rid of us,” you said.

“So did I. So did all of us. Apparently your copy was void for some reason,” said Dean. “Your dad has to relinquish his rights first. Paula let me know…he’s not willing to do that with you.”

“I’m not allowed to be adopted because a murderer says so?” you scoffed.

“It’s backwards and fucked up but in this particular case, yes. Unless he changes his mind, you’re not eligible to be adopted until you’re eighteen, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” he said.

“How do I know this isn’t some bullshit story so you can take the twins away from me?” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

Dean stared at you, his jaw clenching but you saw him start to get upset.

“Every time we have a nice moment, every single fucking time, you get scared and you try to push me away. I have feelings too but if you want to keep doing this, then fine because the day you turn eighteen, I will adopt you. That’s a promise,” he said. “So keep saying I don’t care about you and keep swearing at me and calling me an asshole behind my back and rolling your eyes. Throw whatever punches you need to because I’ll take them and a few years from now, I’m going to adopt you one way or the other. I am sorry I can’t do it right now. I think that man is a sicko that shouldn’t get any say over your life. But I don’t know how to fix it right now. I will try to, I will. But don’t think you’re any different than Rae or Ryan. I want you to be my fucking kid too and sometimes I think maybe you’d be okay with me being your dad. Maybe we won’t have the same relationship that I have with them but that’s okay. I’ll be there for you. I don’t care about the piece of paper. Please just hold on for me until I can get that for you. Please. I know you need it and that you want it. Just hold on and let me show you I can be your dad too.”

You blinked slowly at him, Dean taking a deep breath when he finished. You crawled over to his lap and gave him a hug, Dean quickly returning it.

“Told you that you always want to talk about everything,” you said. He let out a laugh, kissing the top of your head.

“You always have a home here,” he said.

“I’m not calling you, dad,” you said.

“I don’t expect you to. Just next time you want to cry, grab the cookies and come find me,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. “You’re way better than my actual dad ever was to be honest.”

“He set the bar pretty low,” chuckled Dean.

“Actually, I don’t have a dad anymore,” you said.

“Okay. No more dad,” he said. You smiled to yourself.

“Right now I’ll take a Dean,” you said.

“I love you too,” he said, giving you a squeeze.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Okay. You didn’t say it,” he said, still smiling when you looked up at him. “We have so much more in common than you know.”

“You do this with your dad?” you asked.

“No. I didn’t speak to my father for about ten years,” said Dean. You lifted your head, Dean nodding. “After my fiance died, I wasn’t very capable of taking care of myself so I moved in with my parents for a while. I was on autopilot. I did whatever my mom told me. Eat something. Take a shower. Get some sleep. I went to her room one night when I thought my dad was out. I just needed to eat some cookies and listen to her talk, tell me what to do. She wasn’t home turned out but Dad was. He came upstairs and I was only a million times worse than you are right now and we just forgave each other. Life’s not worth holding onto grudges. My family put me back together when I didn’t think there were pieces left. Being angry takes up so much energy. You gotta let it go.”

“What was her name?” you asked. “Your fiance.”

“Jo. Joanna,” he said. “She bugged the shit out of me in freshman english. I thought she was so annoying. A know it all that didn’t know anything. She used to drive me insane. We were always in the same classes. Both biology majors and all. She was always so annoying. Then there was this Halloween party at one of the Frat’s during sophomore year. She comes up to me and I’m already halfway to walking away and she just looked at me. She was scared. Some guy was harassing her so I walked her home. She was still shook up so I stayed the night on her couch. When I woke up, she was so different. She was sweet and called me a gentleman and I just really looked at her for the first time and it all hit me at once. We had a good ten years together.”

“Have you ever dated since?” you asked. “If that’s okay.”

“Not really, no,” he said. “I thought about it a few times but no.”

“Don’t you think she’d want you to be happy?” you asked.

“I found three short things to make me happy,” he said.

“Don’t get sappy, Dean.”

“Too late,” he said, chuckling as you leaned back. “Now next time you feel like crying, you gonna come see me?”

“Maybe,” you said.

“Okay. I’ll take maybe right now,” he said.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Thank you. For my birthday,” you said.

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me for that. You’ll get another one next year too,” he said.

“I know. I um, I’m gonna go back to bed,” you said.

“Alright,” he said as you crawled off with the blanket, wrapping it around yourself. “Goodnight. Get some sleep. I have something fun planned for everyone tomorrow.”

“Night, Dean,” you said as you headed for the door. “Thanks, for checking on me.”

“It’s my job, kiddo,” he said. “Night, Y/N.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 20: Home

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19

Word count: 1827

El heard the front door unlock from the kitchen, and happily oblivious to the precarious status of her wellbeing, she waited quietly for Jonathan to come in and greet her. She had to make sure that the water didn't boil over anyway.

She only got an inkling that something might be wrong when the door slammed shut, and Jonathan rushed into view, looking slightly disheveled. He hadn't even put down his briefcase at the door.

Before she could inquire as to what was wrong, the briefcase was carelessly tossed onto the dining table, and Jonathan had locked her in a tight embrace, pressing a firm kiss into her hair.

"Woah, hi," she squeaked, hugging him back. "What happened? Is everything okay?" She felt the deep sigh as his body relaxed, and he stepped away again, smoothing down his tie as he regained his composure. Registering a few seconds later that she had asked a question, he nodded and raked his fingers through his hair to push it off of his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine." His heart was only just slowing to a regular rate.

She's safe.

Yeah, I told you. I can't believe how whipped you are, Jonny.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been calling you for hours."

"Oh, I forgot to plug it in last night, so it died at work." She replied casually, still entirely unaware of the panic she had caused. "I had to go grocery shopping before I came home, and it's been charging in the bedroom since I got back; I must not have heard it." She turned back to the stove to give the boiling pasta a quick stir and check on the sauce on the other burner. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Jonathan moved to stand against the counter next to her, needing to be near her still. "I had to see Falcone today."

"Oh? How was that?"

"Not good. He tried to threaten me into letting him into the operation, and when that didn't work, he...talked about you. I thought maybe he had already given orders, and I had to oversee the shipment as soon as possible to get it finished in time."

"Ah," El frowned, suddenly understanding the trouble. "So when I didn't answer the phone..." Jonathan nodded. Pasta still undercooked, El replaced the pot lid before turning back to the man next to her. "Well, I'm sorry for making you worry, love, but I'm okay." She smiled and stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Besides, nobody is taking me away from you without a fight. Speaking of which," she plucked a stray burlap thread off of his shoulder, "what happened here?"

Jonathan kicked himself mentally. How had his run-in with the Batman already slipped his mind?

"Scarecrow and I have had an eventful day." He said, suddenly exhausted, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you go change out of your work clothes while this is finishing up, and you can tell me about it while we eat." He nodded but hesitated to walk away, which made her chuckle. "Nothing is going to happen to me if you leave the room for a few minutes. Go on." She pushed on his arm gently, which finally coaxed his weight off the counter.

He was still hesitant to leave the room, but he knew that she was right and obeyed, ignoring Scarecrow's continued snickering. He redressed as quickly as he could, hell-bent on returning to the kitchen fast. Of course, she was still there at the stove when he came back, switching off the burner.

Unfamiliar with normal relationships, Jonathan didn't fully understand his impulses, but he was so exhausted from the events of the day that he didn't have the energy to fight them. Before El could pick up the pot to drain the water from the pasta, he locked his arms around her from behind and dropped his forehead to rest on her shoulder.

"Jonathan..." her voice was laced with soft concern, and she raised her hand to rest on the back of his head. "You were really worried about me, weren't you, love?" Her tone was actually serious now, upset that Jonathan was upset. He didn't answer, just staying where he was. "I'll leave my ringer on from now on; I remember what this feels like." He nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "Come on, sweet, let me finish this up, and we can go sit on the couch while we eat. Up, come on," she coaxed gently, and Jonathan finally straightened up, allowing El to drain the pasta and serve them each a plate.

"So you and Scarecrow had an eventful day," she recalled as they settled onto the couch. "Tell me about that."

Dinner was soon forgotten as Jonathan began to recount their run-in with Batman.

"You set him on fire?" She asked incredulously. When Jonathan looked at her, he expected to see shock, maybe horror, but no. What he saw instead was a genuine, thrilled amusement that he had tried to burn a man alive. "That's hilarious. You set Batman on fire."

See, she thinks I'm funny.

"Scarecrow thinks so too."

"Mm, that's probably a bad sign for me," she said casually, returning her attention to her food. It seemed she had finally given up on feigning morality. Took her long enough.

"Yeah, probably, but you've made it this far." She hummed in response.

"So," she started slowly, wanting to address the initial problem, "Falcone?" Jonathan frowned, disliking the reminder that he now had something that could be leveraged over him. Not that he would give it up for the world, but if people were going to use Elianna to threaten him, then something would have to be done about that. Perhaps Falcone could serve as a warning.

Then again, maybe that had been the wrong decision. The old man's sudden mental break could draw suspicion. While it was true that they had been dumping the toxin into the water mains for weeks, the job would be cleaner if they didn't draw too much attention to themselves. And in one moment of anger and weakness, Jonathan had thrown away that advantage.

"I may have overreacted to that. We'll have to be careful about the project until it's ready to go. It should only be another few days."

"Overreacted?" El asked quizzically. "What did you do, gas him?" She was answered with silence and knew that she had guessed correctly.

She was sure that she was supposed to be upset, maybe a little annoyed with him for endangering such a delicate operation, but she couldn't help but feel a little flattered instead. He had done all of that for her?

Done eating, she placed her empty bowl on the coffee table and scooted closer. "He must have said something pretty bad about me to set you off like that." Jonathan's brow furrowed, remembering what Falcone had implied.

"It was...gross." For lack of a better word. He looked at her to find her smiling at him. "And no, I'm not going to tell you, so don't ask."

"I wasn't going to. I just think it's sweet that you did that for me," she said matter-of-,factly and kissed Jonathan's cheek. "Mostly, I'm just curious, would that have been your normal reaction, or was that just because the nature of our relationship changed?" She grinned as he blushed lightly.

"Probably the second one." He closed his eyes in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Either way, it was an overreaction. It's going to draw attention."

"Oh, who cares. There are only a few days left. Hey, that reminds me, I wanted to make a mask."

"We can just get you one from a hardware store; that should be easy-"

"No, I mean like," she sighed as she gathered her thoughts. "Like, you and Scarecrow have yours, and it's like a character almost. When people see it, they'll know who it is. It's your brand. I want something like that."

It was a fair point, Jonathan decided. And why shouldn't she get to have one like that? "Alright, what are you thinking?"

"Why, thank you for asking, love." She sat up straight as she began to present her idea. "When I was thinking about it, I asked myself, 'what are the most memorable silhouettes of all time?' There are so many to choose-"

"El, please, I've had such a long day." Jonathan almost felt bad interrupting. He knew how much she loved doing dramatic speeches, but he wasn't sure he had the patience for it this time.

"Alright, love, sorry." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. "Anyway, I was thinking something like a plague doctor. I feel like it would match the scarecrow in energy; it's sort of mysterious and technically meant for good, but it's become a sort of a classic horror icon." Jonathan nodded, agreeing with her line of thinking.

"Yeah. It might be a little tricky to pull off in such a short amount of time, but I think that's a good idea." Her face lit up. "We'll need a gas mask to rig into it, a pattern, and a stiff enough material to keep the shape."

"No problem. You know me, I started making my own Halloween costumes at like, ten, I can take care of it. In fact, I kinda already got all of the materials." Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I made a pit stop between work and the grocery store. I just need a sewing machine. I was going to ask Harley if-"

"No need, I have one." They sat in silence for a moment.

"What?"

"I mean, Scarecrow does. He insisted on making the mask himself. Apparently, I was making it too neat, so he commandeered it."

"Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense," El nodded. "I don't know where I thought the mask came from, but yeah, that sounds right."

"Why don't I go get it out of storage so you can start?" El nodded excitedly, and in just a few short minutes, they had her set up at the kitchen table to get to work. Jonathan's night quickly went from a prolonged panic attack to something warm and comforting. Watching El work and helping her take measurements, and teasing her theatrics slowly helped him feel normal.

Seeing her power ahead with her ideas and devotion to their future life, unimpeded by the threat against her, brought a sense of security in a way that he had never quite felt before. While she worked, he came up with and solidified a plan to provide them with protection for the next few days at least, but it would have to wait for tomorrow. In the meantime, he contented himself with wiling away the time in the kitchen with his paramour, letting the rest of the world fall away.

[batskulldrag]

Phoenix by Fallout Boy

I’m gonna post chapter three wicked early. I’ll make a chapter list and link tehm alll together as soon as I figure out how.

Abuse mentions. 

Chapter Three: Young Volcanos by Fall Out Boy

               What are you doing!? Don’t show weakness! Virgil’s thoughts screamed at him.

               No, I’m warm and safe. A different thought argued.

               You don’t know him! What if everybody is like Dad!?

               Then I’m already screwed!

               He’ll use this against you!

               How?

               You think I know? I don’t think like them!

               Maybe he doesn’t either!

               You put your guard back up this instant!

               Let me enjoy this…

               Virgil ignored his louder instincts for the time being and pressed his head further into Patton’s shoulder. It was a nice feeling, and sure he probably couldn’t trust this guy, but he was going to enjoy feeling like this while he could. Patton seemed like a nice guy, and he smelled like butter. And everything else smelled like hand sanitizer, and it was cold because it was a hospital. But Patton was all warm.

               Besides, even if he was going to do anything, he couldn’t with witnesses hanging around and security cameras everywhere. Maybe this was ok. Maybe this was normal. Virgil let himself slide down lower and rested his head on Patton’s lap.

               “Ya getting sleepy there, kiddo?” Patton cooed, still stroking his hair.

               “No, I’m ok.” Virgil mumbled. This was nice. He wanted to stay here.

               “Ok.”

               Virgil became aware of Patton’s heartbeat it was going fast. Was he nervous too? That was weird. Why was he worried?

               Virgil sighed. Both Patton and Thomas were probably waiting for him to say something. Hell, they were probably expecting him start belting songs from Annie or jump up and click his heels. It’s not everyday someone gets pulled out of hell and sent somewhere better, so they were probably looking for a more mood fitting reaction than lying down and taking a nap. One more minute.

               “So, what happens now?” Virgil asked, keeping his head on Patton’s lap. One more minute.

               “Well, Patton has already signed all the forms and the background check should be coming back tomorrow.” Thomas answered, for whatever reason he looked really content. “So, as soon as you’re discharged you can go home with him.”  

               “When can I be discharged?” He was trying not to sound too eager. If they knew he wanted something they could probably use that to toy with him.

               “I’m afraid that’s up to your doctors.”

               “Ok.” That made sense.

               “But when you do get out, we’ll have your room all ready.” Patton chirped at him. “And you’ll need to tell me what all your favorite foods are so I can make them.”

               What an odd thing to say. I guess I should get up. One more minute.

               “Ok.” He mumbled.

               “Oh, and do you have any allergies or eating restrictions. Like vegetarian or vegan and the like?”

               “No.” One more minute.

               “As for right now.” Thomas sounded hesitant, was he going to kick Patton out? “Your doctors and I need to document your bruises. And if you want to you can make a statement for prosecution.”

               “Right now?” Virgil sighed, no more hitting reality’s snooze bar. He slowly pulled himself back up.

               “It is better we do it sooner rather than later.” Thomas sighed. “Patton can stay if you’d like him to.”

               “Good idea, I was hoping for an even bigger group of people to see me in my underwear.” Virgil sneered, rubbing his arm. Despite his will he also felt his face going red. Damnit.

               “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s kind of a necessary evil.”

               Virgil sighed and glanced at Patton. He might as well stay. This was as good a test to see if he was weird as any. Right? Yeah, he could be a serial killer, or this could be his kink or something like that. Best to know what he was going to get himself into. Just that. That and no other reason.

               “I mean, he can stay if he wants to.” Virgil mumbled impassively. “It’s a free country, he can do whatever.”

               “I’ll give you your privacy.” Patton replied, ruffling his hair. “I’ll come back in when they’re done kiddo.”

               Patton stood up and took a few steps towards the door. Virgil’s heart sank. Patton abruptly stopped and turned around.

               Are you gonna stay?

               “I almost forgot to give you this.” Patton said happily. “this should help you ‘bear’ your stay here.”

               Patton gleefully produced a stuffed bear and gently set in his mummified hands. As the toy stared derpilly up at him he got the joke and impulsively smiled. Then he saw the pun written across the bear and let out a laugh. Double whammy with the dad jokes. He glanced at Patton and saw that the older man was beaming (bee-ming?), clearly enthralled that Virgil liked the joke.

               “He’s cool.” Virgil tried to play it off. “Thanks.”

               “You’re welcome.” Patton turned back to the door. “I’ll be right out here if you need me. Ok?”

               “Ok.”

               Patton closed the door behind him only to reappear in the window and wave enthusiastically at him. He mouthed out the words I’ll be right here and gave a thumbs up. Virgil waved in return and fought back another smile. Patton was a funny guy and so far, he seemed pretty cool.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton shook his arms to get the relief tinglies to calm down. Everything seemed to go well. Virgil didn’t hate him, and he even liked dad jokes. And he liked the bear. So far things were going well.

               He saw them close the blinds in Virgil’s room so that no one in the hallway could peep in on him. They must have started cataloging his bruises. Patton hoped his brother had a mean cellmate. He made a mental note to look up a few legal things when he got home.

               While waiting Patton sent Logan a quick text to let him know everything was going ok on his end and to ask what was going on in the outside world.

                                                                               #             #             #

               Logan set another casserole dish on top of the stove. He had to shove aside the other three dishes, the two pies and the pot of soup. Both Patton’s library friends and all their neighbors had been at it for hours.

               “How many friends does Patton have?” Roman exclaimed, walking into the kitchen with a Tupperware of pasta. “And why are they all old ladies?”

               “Some of them are just parents whose kids were in his class.” Logan sighed. “He’s a lot of kids’ favorite teacher.”

               “Is the fridge full?”

               “Yes, just set the pasta on the table.”

               “Any updates on the news?” Roman set the dish down exhaustedly.

               “No, not yet.” Logan looked at his phone. “Patton texted. He says that Virgil’s fine, and seems excited to come live with us. And of course, he wants to know how we are.”

               “Drowning in food and tired of small talk.” Roman switched into a frail voice. “It was so brave of you to rescue that boy. It’s so good of you three to take that boy in like this. It’s about time Patton and Logan adopted a kid.” He changed back. “I never thought I would get sick of praise. I feel like Jack Skellington.”

               “Minus the kidnapping I hope.”

               “You’re the one with the kid now.” Roman jabbed, eating the pasta straight from the dish with his hands.

               “Roman, get a plate.” Logan began.

               They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

               “If that’s Barbra from next door I’m calling the police.” Roman stood up dramatically.

               “It’s my turn to deal with callers,” Logan walked towards the hallway. “But if it is her, I’m getting you.”

               “Let’s set her up with my brother the next time we know where he is.” Roman laughed. “She’ll never speak to us again.”

               “Neither will Remus.”

               Logan could still hear Roman laughing when he got to the front door. He glanced through the peephole to see if it was indeed well-wishers. He instead saw several smartly dressed people bearing cameras and tape recorders rather than food. With few other options he turned out the lights in the front room and went back into the kitchen.

               Roman was taking inventory when he got back.

               “Say Lo-bot, how much of this could we take to the homeless shelter?” He asked casually. “I don’t want to be disrespectful or ungrateful, but this is a lot. The freezer is full, the refrigerator is full, and the oven is full. It would be more disrespectful to let this go to waste when the less fortunate could have it.”  

               “We will discuss that later,” Logan took the car keys off the rack. “But it is a good idea.”

               “Where are you going?” Roman squinted at him.

               “I’m going to pick Patton up from the hospital.”

               “Who was at the door?”

               “Reporters have found us. I’m all for the first amendment, but I do not wasn’t to be harassed in my own home. So, I’m leaving.”

               “But won’t they go away if we talk to them?”

               “Yes, but then they, and all others will think it’s okay to show up at people’s houses.”

               Roman looked around.

               “We could ask them in for dinner.” He laughed.

               “But we won’t.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton sat at the foot of the bed while Virgil sat across from him at the head. Virgil was sitting cross-legged with his casted foot poking out from under the blanket and the bear in his lap. Patton clicked his heels together; it was very quiet.

               “You’re not much of a talker.” Patton teased.

               “My throat hurts.” Virgil answered.

               “Oh, right. Sorry.”

               WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!!!

               “So, you’re really my dad’s brother?” Virgil asked skeptically.

               “Yeah, he’s about three years older than me.”

               “And you’re related?”

               “Yep, people used to mistake us for twins. Until I had to get glasses.”

               Virgil coughed and tapped the bear on the nose a few times.

               “This isn’t actually my first time meeting you.” Patton started. “My mom and I kind of did a lot of the raising when you were a baby.”

               “Is that stuff dad said true?”

               “No.” Patton dropped his shoulders. “It’s not. Our mother was wonderful and supportive. She even took Logan in after-” He stopped himself. “No, it’s not true. He was the homophobe.”

               “Yeah, I never really believed the pseudo-rape story.” Virgil shifted his feet. “Dad always seemed more like a predatory animal. And maybe that was a front, but if it was it was flawless.”

               “I think Payton said something about being with her for posterity.” Patton rubbed his arm. “She was really pretty and was a cheer leader in high school. And a lot of guys wanted to be with her. So, it was like a triumph for him.”

               “He told you?” Virgil coughed.

               “No. I just kind of figured. He did say he was gonna marry her, you know when we found out about you.”

               “Why?”

               “Because.” Patton mimicked his brother’s tone. “Children need a mommy and a daddy. And I have to accept my mistakes.” Patton switched back. “I never really believed him.”

               Virgil shivered and looked down into his lap. Through his bangs Patton could see him biting his lip.

               “I’m sorry.” Patton said quickly, but softly. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. I should have known that would hit too close to home for you. I’m sorry.”

               Virgil looked at him quizzically and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed utterly baffled. Still looking like the world had just flipped over Virgil crawled over and put his head back into Patton’s lap.

               “Are you ok, Kiddo?”

               “Yeah,” He sounded stunned. “I’m fine. I-I just need to pull my thoughts together.”

               “I get what you mean.” Patton tried to lighten the mood. “I never think straight, just ask my husband.”

               Virgil laughed very softly.

               “We’re gonna have to get that laugh stronger.” Patton teased, stroking his hair. “As soon as your throat is better, we’ll have you practice.”

               “Practice?”

               “Practice laughing, ya goof!”

               “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Virgil said in a strained voice.

               “No, you’re wide awake.” Patton soothed. “And I can prove it. Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?”

               “Like I swallowed a bag of razors.”

               “Well, you can’t feel pain in dreams. And you can only feel one emotion at a time in them.”

               “Really?”

               “Yeppers, if you’re having a happy dream, you’re happy in the dream and nothing else. Same for all the other types of dreams. And they’re never this elaborate.”

               “I guess not.” Virgil yawned.

               “And you can’t get tired in a dream, now can you?” Patton asked, booping the younger man on the nose. “And you can’t learn something you don’t know in a dream, because it’s in your mind. And you don’t know what you don’t know.”

               “So, this is real?” He yawned again. “It’s not a dream or an act or something.”

               “Nope, it’s as real as that sore throat of yours.”

               “Ok.” Virgil sighed, his eyes fluttering closed. “You can keep talking if you want.”

               “Maybe I’d better go until you’re feeling better.” Patton brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair. It was starting to feel like he hadn’t showered, which was fair.

               “Can you stay until I fall asleep?” Virgil mumbled, halfway asleep already.

               “Of course, I can.”

                                                                               #             #             #

               Patton paced into the waiting room. Logan had texted him saying he was coming to pick him up. He thought that was a bit unnecessary, but it would be nice to not have to take the bus.

               “Maybe Logan missed me.” Patton said to himself with a coy smile. “I guess we’ll have to pick up dinner on the way back.”

               Patton slid into one of the uncomfortable chairs that normally furnished all waiting rooms. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just tune out for a minute.

               “In other news we have conformation that the destruction of former mayoral candidate Payton Foster’s home last night was in fact arson. Traces of accelerant were found inside the house, leaving Mr. Foster himself as the prime suspect. Police believe he was attempting to destroy evidence of previous crimes for which he had been accused. His teenage son is reported to have escaped the fire with minor injury thanks to the actions of a heroic stranger. That’s quite the Disney convince, eh, Garbo?”

               Patton glanced wearily at the TV as the reporter’s counterpart took over.

               “But he’s not so strange anymore now Malloy. We did figure who he is. Seems that drama teacher slash community theater star Roman Lupine has gotten tired of the stage and is out there looking for drama in real life. That may suit Mr. Lupine, but I think here on Garbo and Malloy we would just stick to playing fictional heroes.”

               Patton started looking for a remote to change the channel or just flat out turn this thing off. The publicity was bad enough, but he hated these guys’ banter. How did they even get this job?

               “And of course, we all recognize Mr. Lupine from his press infiltration over a week ago.” Malloy droned.

               “Speaking of the ShareBook incident, most of our sources believe that Foster’s brother will be taking custody of his son.” Garbo, who was aptly named countered. “But so far no one has been able to get a hold of any of them.”

               “Well let’s hope Mr. Foster and his husband are prepared for their new son coming out as straight.” Malloy swung for the obvious joke.

               The two trash goblins laughed like they were those guys from the Muppets and they mercifully changed the subject.

               “Next up on Garbo and Malloy, Garbo and Malloy go dumpster diving.”

               “Don’t come back.” Patton pleaded as he finally found the remote and shut the TV off. “And Thomas already told that joke.”

               He slid back into a chair and sighed hard. How could anyone joke or bant about this? It was a little like saying Anne Frank was bad at hide and seek, it wasn’t funny. It was just tasteless. And were they making fun of Roman?

               “Excuse me, I’m looking for a patient by the name of Foster.” Someone interrupted his brooding and worsened his mood.

               “Are you family?” The receptionist countered.

               “No, I’m with the press, I’d like to see if he or his current guardians are willing to do an interview.”

               “Come back tomorrow.”

               Not willing to do that, Patton his behind a chair until he was sure this man was gone.

                                                                               #             #             #

               The car ride home was saturated in a tense quiet for the first few minutes. With a look they all communicated exactly what they knew to one another. Unfortunately, they all knew a lot of the same things. Both Patton and Logan had at least fifty unchecked messages on their phones and Roman was in the back seat agitatedly sending out explanations to every single person in his contact list.

               “How has everyone in Florida found out about this so quickly?” Roman sighed from his spot on the back. “One of my students texted me somehow knowing that I was in the hospital last night. I have never been so fed up with the age of information.”

               “They were talking about you on Garbo and Malloy.” Patton added in a barely audible mumble.

               “Were they reviewing the play?”

               “No, they were talking about the fire.”

               “Those two discuss current events?” Logan interrupted, sounding absolutely dumbfounded.

               “Not very well.” Patton sighed. “They were making fun of Roman.”

               “Oh, of course that were!” Roman barked. He then slid into a mimic of one of the reporters. “Next up on Garbage and Malloy, Garbage and Malloy let a child burn to death in a fire, ‘cause people who try to help are just attention seekers. hA ha Ha HA.”

               “Several of your friends from work brought us food and expressions of good luck.” Logan added, evidently trying to change the subject.

               “Aww, that’s sweet.” Patton melted into his seat. “All this talk of my brother was starting to make me doubt humanity.”

               “Well,” Logan sighed. “I certainly hope you’re hungry.”

               A question bounced back and forth between Logan and Roman. Well, more like the question. And the question took turns resting in their brains and mouths but remained unspoken.

               “Patton,” Logan sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.  “Did Payton actually…” He couldn’t say it.

               “Yes.” Patton gagged on the words, they tasted vile. “He did.”

               With that the silence returned.

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 11: Darren*

Disclaimer: a multitude of events/details have been left out of this chapter, both for increased anonymity of myself and the gentleman in question, as well as I started writing this two months after this all happened, so apologies.

Darren* is actually someone that I work with at one of my jobs, of which I have three. Upon starting my position there and meeting him, I was immediately attracted. He is from a Scandinavian country originally and just comes with that natural Scandinavian good looks. He acted a little immature, in a way that is just everything is sexual, a natural flirt. For a few months, I had an innocent little crush on him, purely infatuation. 

Often we would say hi in passing and he was always really helpful when it came to patients. He got along with everyone and despite his lewdness, I really enjoyed working with him. There were multiple times that we would walk and talk in the hall, he would express embarrassment to me over him having acne, and would openly announce that he was switching what side he was on because he didn’t want me to see it. I, in my thinking he was out of my league and I was secured in the friend/coworker zone, would be super transparent, and as well complain about my acne, and described in detail the acne patches I would use.

All seemed platonic until one day out of the blue he just leaned in close to me and asked me if he could have my Snapchat. I immediately was like oh yeah of course! From there, we talked throughout the days daily for about a week. 

I let him and my coworker in MRI know that I’m gonna bring in food on the weekend since I got a huge crockpot meal from my Home Chef meal kit boxes and wanted to share the love. When really, although I did do that, I was on purpose making sure I did it on a day Darren* was working. I made sure to wear an outfit that would get his attention without trying too hard: well-fitting yoga pants and a tank top. I arrive and I call their department to let them know I’m here with food. Darren* answers the phone and there’s video chat so I also see him. I say “hey I’m here! Chicken tacos in the break room.” He says “Are they hard or soft?” in the innuendo way he does. What he doesn’t know, is he’s met his match since I’m also kind of a perv. I respond “what do you think?” seductively and with a wink. He laughs and just goes “oh alright.” I say “Nah but seriously they’re soft tacos.” He says “my favorite! We’ll be over soon.” The cavalry arrives and everyone eats their food and thanks me. I’m not really getting the quality time I was hoping for but I’m still happy. Finally, everyone starts to kinda make their way out until it’s just Darren* and I. We just chat. This is when somehow or another I find out he has a tattoo in a more rated R area. I laugh. He asks me about my outfit and if I am going to the gym. I say no that I was just trying to be comfortable but still look good enough to be outside of my house. He says he should probably get back to work and will snap me later.

Late that night, I ask him more about his tattoos, and I tell him about mine. I send him photos of a couple of my PG tattoos, he sends me his PG tattoos (yes this does imply we both have rated R tattoos). I think this is a moment that is kind of exposing but could also just be innocent as well. 

The next week, we again worked together, and he would come by, a little more than usual, saying hi to me and chatting before returning to work. The last time he stops by before he leaves for the day, he gives me a hug. Now, this hug wasn’t like a normal hug, it was super awkward, incredibly on my part.

You see, I did not expect this to happen and I was sitting down so he approached me for the hug while I was sitting. In attempts to make this less horrible, which backfired, I decided to begin standing up during the hug. Not only did I do this, no that would be still not horrible, but I then put my arms around him diagonally. Yes, that cringy one arm on the shoulder/neck and the other around the waist. At this moment I am well aware of what terrible state I am in, but am surprised and pleased that regardless of how awkward I have positioned myself that he is still holding onto me. He is in fact at this moment squeezing me tightly, comfortably. 

Somehow this embrace lasts for probably a good twenty seconds. I’m sure I am red in the face but he says bye talk to you later and leaves. Immediately, I Snapchat him and say “I’m so sorry that was such an awkward hug. I need a do-over please.” His response is something along the lines of, “It’s all good I live for the cringe” with a laughing face emoji. Otherwise, we continue to talk as we were.

I offer him my number, thinking like we are getting along well and are maybe at that point. He says that he actually prefers Snapchat, as his cell service isn’t very good with his provider (which I shall not name), so he communicates a lot more with Snapchat anyway. We somewhere too in this time say we’re going to hang out on Saturday, and I’ll cook him some food.

Oh and now is your first preview of me being sneaky and retrieving Snapchat screenshots via taking pics of my phone screen. Step One, send a thirst trap. 

Step Two: He responds to the thirst trap. I remember also saying something after that, despite not having it in the screenshot, where I say, “Is that why you don’t wear a dress to work?” Which is what he is responding to in the third photo.

I’m also still wondering, is he just being a flirt, or is this man interested? Soon I would get my answer. 

Now, it is the weekend, Friday night. I mention to him that I’m walking to my friend’s house and I’m going over to drink some wine and eat pasta. I send him Snapchats of my friend on Hinge swiping, and us playing “Tinder March Madness,” a game I saw on Tik Tok and thought was funny. Essentially, you right-swipe on all of the men, no matter what. Give it some time and wait for the matches to roll in. Then there are certain point values that go along with certain dating profile tropes. The person with the most points “wins” each round until the “Ultimate Tinder Guy” is found. Anyway, I send these to him half to be like LOL look at this stupid stuff, half to see if I get a rise out of him/he gets a little bit jealous. He is also with friends, so I don’t necessarily get in-depth answers or quick responses. I do mention to him that I’m leaving my friend’s apartment soon, and will be walking by myself. At this point it is nighttime. We do live in a relatively nice area, but it’s still a little scary to walk by yourself in the dark. I give him a call via Snapchat, he doesn’t answer but I know he’s with his friends, so it’s all good.

I arrive home and almost immediately after I walk through the door, I get a Snapchat call back from him. He asks me if I’m okay and if I got home safely. I am honestly surprised he called me back. I tell him I’m fine. He continues to talk to me on the phone and even puts me on speakerphone. The one part that hurts my soul is he does say that I’m his “friend, Mandy,” but hey, a friend is better than a co-worker. I talk with his friends about gaming, drinking, say I’ll drink some Everclear with them, go really hard. Darren* then says he’s gonna find somewhere more private to talk to me, takes me off speakerphone. We shoot the shit a little more, then he says he had just gone running and is gonna take a shower and will talk to me later. I end the call.

Literally one minute after ending the call, I receive a Snapchat from him. This is a picture Snapchat. It is a photo of him completely naked. Where his package would be is conveniently blocked by the level of the counter in his bathroom. Highly suggestive, though not a complete nude. What is my response? Something along the lines of “oh my!!!!” Any confusion I had was gone. Like alright, this man just sent this photo to you because he is into you. It’s late and I’m going to sleep anyway, so I figure I’ll just message him in the morning to clear things up before we hang out.  

Before I can even confront him in the morning, he messages me. I, unfortunately, don’t have a screenshot for this. But he says whereas he isn’t exactly looking for a relationship at this moment, that he wants to see where things go with me and see what happens. I tell him that how I feel is I don’t like to put expectations on anything anyway and that I’m happy to do that and just follow where the vibes go between us. We’ve come to an agreement! With that, he says he is super hungover and is going to take a nap, and will let me know about coming over later. By the early evening, he says he wants to reschedule since he still feels like shit. I’m on call a lot, so we just schedule it tentatively for next Saturday and I see if I can get my call covered another day sooner so we can see each other before then. 

I’m able to contact my manager the next day and I let him know I now have Wednesday free for him. I’m on call at our workplace the day I let him know that, and I jokingly tell him he is in charge of calling me in. Of course, I actually do get called in, though it isn’t him that lets me know. I arrive and hang out in the area he works in while I wait for the patient to be ready. He is not there and is off doing other stuff. He comes in and is surprised to see me, which checks out since I did tell him I was coming in, but he hadn’t opened that Snapchat yet. We hug hello, not awkwardly now, and he talks about his hands being cold. Essentially then we are holding hands. While the other coworkers are off tending to patients, we stand close together and chat. My patient arrives, and I ask him to help me move them. I observe him with a patient and he really is a great caregiver, it’s attractive. He helps me then says he’s gonna run back to his department and will be back. When he returns he says he is actually leaving for the night. My patient’s scan is more or less on autopilot, so I position ourselves away from the window that looks into the room. I embrace him and say I’m looking forward to seeing him next time we work together and on Wednesday. I think back and know I probably should have kissed him, but I didn’t, probably the thought of being at work and although no one was there and watching, still felt inappropriate.

I finished my work and returned home. Monday we spoke throughout the day, flirtatious and excited. We worked together Tuesday and when I walked in for the day, I immediately happened upon him in the break room. I sat down next to him and discussed timeframes for our hangout the next day. He is happy and upon another coworker walking in, I briefly say hey and disperse. Darren* comes into my department, as he does often, and is talking with everyone. One of our coworkers mentions to him that they want to talk to him about something. I’m not sure what it is about, but I do get a hit of anxiety wondering if he had told them about me, and it was regarding our relationship. Work goes by and they do go off and talk. Afterward, he is kinda brief in saying goodbye, which makes my anxiety increase. 

I send him a message just again mentioning a timeframe for our next day’s plans. An hour or so after he left he responds saying that he is actually starting to talk to someone and didn’t want to do the next day because he didn’t want to jeopardize that, as he thought if he came over the next day he didn’t know what would happen. His phrasing was “is it okay” if we don’t see each other. So I say something like, “well I wouldn’t want to complicate things, I’m not happy about it but I understand.” He also expressed he was worried about work, though, at this point, I was about to start my new job and had told him about this. He mentions not having a “crystal ball” and that he doesn’t know what will happen in the future, blah blah blah. That we could still be with each other someday.

I am beyond confused. Literally three days before this, he had been the one to initiate things and asked for us to see where things go, wasn’t interested in a relationship, when suddenly now he is, albeit with someone else, and is interested enough to be afraid something romantic would happen if we were alone together, but not enough see where it goes.

In response, I give into a TikTok trend where you ask people what your type is. I did this that night. He did not take kindly to it. His response was kind of like, what is this? I was angry and thought this was a good way to have some self-deprecating humor. Essentially “douchebag,” “extroverted gamer,” “emotionally unavailable,” “guys with girlfriends,” and “Trump supporters,” were mentioned in this. Many of those descriptions which could describe Darren* at that moment. 

I was still very hurt days afterward and didn’t know what would happen once we saw each other again at work. Come next workday together, he was starting to be on temperature check duty at the hospital. I did not know he was though, and stumbled upon him as I was going out to say hi to another co-worker I knew was out there. It was very awkward at first but we became more on friendly terms. Toward the end of the night, we were alone back inside for a moment. I asked him some questions about his life and such. As the night went on we did embrace a few times and were very close. It was more confusing but he did still seem into me. We left at the same time and he walked me to my car where we lingered and talked and held each other. I did feel pretty bad, as I would sometimes see his phone, see him talking to this other girl, and sometimes I would just happen to see his messages with her and could tell that he did care for her. And in character, it was on Snapchat, so he may have been completely honest regarding using Snapchat as his primary communication method.

Basically a similar scenario continued on for the next four weeks, each time it becomes more and more difficult/intimate. One week we took a walk around the campus and cuddled in the grass, watching the stars. The bugs made us move, but we had a closeness. We just barely kissed one time. He would grab my hips and touch my body when we were alone. Constantly he would resist, I was just as confused as he wasn’t dating this person. Another night, we are walking together doing rounds through the hospital, when one of his close coworkers casually mentions he’s uncircumcised. Which was just some bizarre information. It was funny to see him embarrassed.

Finally, after four weeks of this “what is going on” scenario, I have him call me. I tell him essentially that if he and this woman are still not exclusive, that we should still give this a shot or at least hang outside of work and see what is truly going on. I reiterate his crystal ball thing. I am truly speaking in our both interests, as we have been playing a dangerous game. He says he will talk to her that night and figure out what is going on, as she has been kind of putting off/delaying that conversation. He says he will let me know what she says and will think about it if they don’t become exclusive, as he admits that he doesn’t see the point of staying with her if she doesn’t want to become official. I follow up the next day, asking how it went. He says it didn’t come up and apologizes, though saying he will soon. A few days after that, I find out that they must have had the conversation, because “Darren* is now in a relationship” appears on my Facebook news feed. I message him in Snapchat and congratulate him. I do truly wish them the best, and take the situation as a lesson learned.

A couple of months later, present-day as I write this, I notice a name that looks familiar on a patient’s chart. Casually I bring it up to my coworker, saying “isn’t that Darren*’s girlfriend?” and it is confirmed. I become infuriated and text my friend immediately, explaining the situation I have just uncovered. This new information does add to my displeasure, as I realize that this guy’s now girlfriend also works here and that it is quite possible that he could have been seeing her on any of those days that we had become so close. This disgusted me. I did see him a couple of days later and casually mentioned to him, “I didn’t know your girlfriend worked here.” He hit me with a “yeah she does.” I felt it important to let him know, I know. I try and remain cordial, but it is extremely difficult when I learn more and more about how scummy he is. Later that day that I let him know, he told me it was “good seeing me” and I literally responded with a vomit noise. Even if things don’t work out with his lady, and I’m still single, that “crystal ball” will not do him any favors.

[sciencelings-writes]

No One Mourns The Wicked

Trope: May’s Abusive Boyfriend @irondadbingo

Peter didn’t think that May’s new boyfriend was bad. At least at first. He was glad that May had places to go besides work and that when she talked about the guy she was dating, she’d have that dreamy look in her eye. She was happier after her dates and told Peter constantly about him while he talked about hanging out with Mr. Stark. They were happy with not being as alone, expanding their interests, not relying on only each other.

But the optimism didn’t last forever. Eventually, Peter had to meet the guy. Gabe was not the best looking dude but May wasn’t known for great taste and for judging people from the inside or whatever. Peter personally thought that May should aim higher than a balding guy with a beer belly but he didn’t say anything. May seemed to like him and he wasn’t too annoying to be around. He was kind of weird when he talked to Peter but so far he wasn’t that bad.

Well, he wasn’t that bad until he got evicted from his shitty apartment and May, being the nice person that she was, let him stay with them. With her being a nurse, she wasn’t there all the time and Peter was left alone with Gabe who swore he had a job even though he rarely left the apartment.

When May was away, Gabe was completely different. He looked at Peter with such a sour expression that he swore that the guy had injected himself with warheads and lemon juice. He had a very condescending tone whenever he needed something and due to Peters general ability to not say no to people due to being too nice, he tended to just do whatever Gabe wanted just to keep conflict from breaking out. Which meant he would fetch any trash he filled their fridge with and picked up after him whenever he was too lazy to do anything himself which was always.

Then every time May would come home, it was like a flick of the switch. Peter knew that May would believe him if he told her that he didn’t like Gabe but it wasn’t too bad yet and May seemed so happy. He could endure for her. But of course, Gabe figured out that Peter was a pushover and would do anything to keep his aunt happy so things got a lot worse. Gabe acted like Peter was practically a punching bag. Not that he would constantly beat him up but that he would shove him roughly as if he couldn’t feel any pain and Peter just tried to ignore it. Peter was spider-man so this was fine. He could be shoved by a six-foot man into the edge of the counter and the bruise wouldn’t even be that bad.

Pretty soon, May’s apartment didn’t feel as much like home. He would hang out at the tower whenever May had afternoon shifts when she had to leave Peter alone with Gabe. It got worse when Gabe insisted he give Peter a ride to school instead of taking the subway. They tried to have a normal conversation but it was weird and Peter wanted to run the whole time. Then Gabe got mad over nothing and yelled at him as they sat parked in front of the school. Peter had to quite literally fight him off to get out of the car. If there were fewer people there present, Peter was sure that Gabe would come out and fight him in the open. Thankfully, there would be too many witnesses if he did.

Peter avoided Gabe as much as he could and consequentially ended up avoiding May. He hung out with Tony and Ned more, doing homework with his friend and spending more time as Spider-Man just to be away from May’s boyfriend. Unsurprisingly, people started to notice.

Tony and Ned both knew that May had a boyfriend but that was practically it. Peter blamed his not wanting to be home on him not wanting to see May get all romantic with a dude even though it was much worse. May noticed when he was gone and forced him to stay home until she was off of work and Peter often left the apartment with bruises and cuts from broken bottles. Ned assumed that it was from spider-man-ing and Peter didn’t want to correct him.

Peter still managed to avoid Gabe when he went to hang out with Mr. Stark. At least when he was working with Tony, he wasn’t on the streets bringing up bad guys, making May worry. She enjoyed listening to Peter ramble about what he was working on, carefully avoiding information that would out him in front of Gabe. The conversation became shorter and shorter as Gabe looked angrier and angrier and May didn’t seem to notice how her boyfriend affected him.

Gabe only wanted to talk about himself. He seemed bored and impatient when anyone else talked about something that wasn’t him. May usually obliged and asked him questions which made him go off on a rant or a story making Peter wish that he was deaf.

Tony seemed to avoid snooping until there was evidence of May’s boyfriend being actually bad for Peter. Tony knew when Peter went on patrol and what injury he got when he was on patrol. It was routine for him to see everything that had happened and help him when something went wrong.

So, Tony knew when Peter got hurt. He also knew when Peter was trying to cover up an injury. He just didn’t expect to get so hurt when he wasn’t playing vigilante. Maybe like a burn from trying to make pasta but not a bruise shaped like a hand on his arm that was not recorded as happening on patrol. Peter had tried to cover it up with some of May’s concealer but the shade was too light and stood out like a sore thumb. It would’ve healed pretty quick which meant that the injury must have happened immediately before Peter had arrived at the tower and he must’ve panicked to hide it.

Tony, someone who was intimately aware of the effects of several forms of child abuse, may have internally freaked out when he made Peter wash off the makeup and show him the injury. Sure, bruises weren’t severe and no normal person could actually hurt the enhanced kid with their bare hands, but Tony turned out to be a chronic worrier and he hated it when Peter pretended that pain wasn’t a thing. Also, there was the whole thing of ‘someone hurt my kid’ that always tended to enrage him. He managed to shove the anger aside to carefully talk to the kid.

Peter, for the first time since they had met, was at a loss for words. Eventually through soft questioning, Tony was able to piece everything together. Peter hanging out at the tower more often became a obvious red flag that he had been blind to seeing. He had been so excited to hang out with the kid that he never thought about why he was so eager to not be at home.

His little different mannerisms started to make sense too. The kid had started to stutter more and when he did, he would just stop speaking until Tony told him to continue. Now he recognized that it was because he had been scrutinized for it and he was subconsciously trying to avoid any punishment by not talking. Peter was a little more shut down than he was before but thankfully, May’s boyfriend had not been fucking the kid up for very long.

Tony wanted to barge into May’s apartment and beat some sense into the guy but he knew that there was a much better way. A way that was true justice and not just him Captain America-ing it and beating the problem away with his fists.

Tony took a lot of pleasure when he planned it out. First, of course, he sent Peter to do homework and order food then let him spend the night at the tower while he planned out the quiet justice that would ruin this assholes life. Completely legally of course… After staying up all night, he had successfully turned his rage into a motivational fuel for an act of revenge that he couldn't wait to witness.

Peter knew that something was up. He was anything but an idiot. He knew that Mr. Stark was up to something. His mentor obviously hadn’t slept and had a manic smile on his face the next morning while he gave Peter a fifty to get himself breakfast and told him if he didn’t eat, Tony would visit him at school and scold him in front of everyone. Peter didn’t think that was so bad.

Peter continued to try and balance trying not to be around Gabe but to hang out with May as much as he could, which was kind of impossible as Gabe tried to be around Peter’s aunt as much as physically possible. The moments that he had to be with Gabe alone were compacted with insults towards him and a sprinkling of physical abuse that made Tony’s blood boil through the camera bot he had planted on Peter before he left.

Tony collected evidence all week. He found as much dirt on this Gabe Ugliano. It turns out that the guy had a history of shit like this. He lured poor women in with money that he scammed out of people and he was like if Howard Stark was part blobfish and had a less expensive taste in alcohol. Needless to say, Tony had made the decision to not be completely anonymous in this revenge. He wanted to see the look in the man's ugly eyes as everything crumbled around him.

Tony started out small. Encrypted blackmail. He wanted to freak the guy out before he tore everything down. He wanted Gabe to feel the constant paranoia that the man had inflicted upon Peter when he was too afraid to be in his own home. The emails would disappear before Gabe could report it and he was too stupid to screenshot them. He also didn’t seem too keen to involve the police anyway as he did have a record.

Tony did it for him. Plenty of footage and proof was sent to the NYPD and Tony just happened to be in the area when shit went down. He had arranged for Pepper to take May out for a girls night and according to Karen, Peter was spider-man-ing closer to Brooklyn. Neither of them would be in danger just in case Gabe turned out to be crazier than Tony had expected.

Gabe was pretty hammered at the time so Tony was glad that Peter was out of the way. Gabe tried to throw a glass at the policemen and was promptly subdued and handcuffed. It was simple. But Tony wasn’t done. He had sent evidence of all of Gabe's shit. If the man was lucky, he’d only be in prison for… thirty years? Thirty-five? There were definitely enough potential charges to build up to a substantial punishment. Of course, after that, his life would still be ruined and he would likely die poor and alone.

This was Tony being nice and borderline legal. This was Tony holding back. If Tony had less self-control, well, he wouldn’t be called a hero. Gabe would be much more afraid. But it wasn’t Gabe's fear that Tony wanted or the revenge. Tony just wanted his kid to be safe.

The police car holding the drunk asshole was left alone as per his request. The back window was only open enough to speak clearly through it. Tony strolled up to it and it took a moment for Gabe to even notice that he was there. Tony took a moment to enjoy the thought of the man looking like an obese rat that had drowned itself in beer. Tony knocked on the glass to catch Gabe’s attention.

“Rough night huh,” Tony casually leaned against the police car.

“Wha-” Gabe seemed to realize who he was, “Yer the guy thas been stealin my kid!” His voice was slurred due to being drunk off his ass. Tony had no idea what May had seen in the guy, maybe he was more believable sober.  

“Your kid? Now that’s a good joke. You have quite the possessive problem, huh.”

“It doesn matter… I didn want him…  ‘es been passed down through every parent he has. I’d say he killed ‘em but I don’t think ‘es smart enough!” Gabe let out a cackle that could only be compared to a pirate that had all of his teeth knocked out for being an asshole. Tony was considering doing just that. Fortunately, he kept his cool.

“He doesn’t deserve you… hell, he doesn’t deserve me. That kid, My kid, is one of the smartest people I have ever met and twice as compassionate as anyone I have ever encountered. He was too kind to you. I’m not so nice. I got enough dirt on you to be treated like a murderer. When you get out of the pit, I’m going to kick you back down and you’ll never be able to live without becoming a hopeless beggar. You won’t be able to afford to treat your heart disease or liver failure and you will wish that you were never born with the pain you will have to endure each day. No one will be charitable to such a scumbag.” Tony said in a tone that was much too cheerful for the words that came out of it.

While Gabe was gaping like a fish, Tony got a call. The caller ID said that is was from May.

“Hey May, are you having fun with my fiance?” Tony smiled and gave Gabe a cold stare while he spoke.

“I have been informed that you got my boyfriend arrested… It’s a shame you got there first. I was planning on getting him accidentally run over by a car… at least after what Peter told me…” Tony honestly couldn’t tell if she was joking. “Thank you, Tony. It’s too bad that you have more self-control than I do. No one hurts my kid.”

“Our kid.” Tony corrected in a joking tone even though he wasn’t completely joking. He was really attached to the kid.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I didn’t even notice how bad this was…”

“People like him are very good at manipulating people. And Peter is very good at trying to do the whole lone wolf, teenager thing. It’s not your fault.” Tony promised.

“Are you still near Gabe? I want to send him a message.” May said in a poisonously sweet tone.

“Of course.” Tony put his phone on speaker and the voice of May Parker sounding angrier than Tony have ever heard her echoed out from the device. Her roar reminded Tony of a lioness and if this was directed at him, he would honestly be afraid.

“If I ever so much as see you again, I promise that these seven-inch metal stilettos that Pepper just bought me will go so far up your dick that you’ll be pissing silver for the rest of your miserable life.” Tony winced just at the imagery.  

“Well, that was… graphic… I would avoid her if I were you but where’s the fun in that.” Tony shrugged.

“I am thoroughly traumatized.” a familiar young voice said from behind him. Peter, in normal clothes, even though he had been in the spider-suit only minutes earlier.

“Hey kid, wanna go get some pizza?”

“I literally can’t say no to pizza.” Tony smiled as he led Peter away from the scene with an arm over his shoulder. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice a drone with a camera attached to my backpack?”

Tony just laughed, and it was over much more simply than they thought it would be. Over pizza, they discussed the option of talking about their feelings because it was something that should probably be done eventually. They moved on to talk about the new star wars movie instead. And everything was fine or at least going to be that way.

[gingersaremytype]

Sad Songs x Peter Parker

Masterlist

Prompt List

Peter Parker x Reader

Peter comforts reader after they have a pretty shitty week :)

Word Count - 2.3k

It had been a long day. Scratch that, a long week. It seemed as if nothing was gonna go right for you. Monday morning, you'd woken up with a pounding headache right before a biology exam. The exam had been ridiculously hard and even though you'd studied hard, there were topics you'd never even seen before, let alone learned and revised. Tuesday, you missed the bus and had to walk home in the pouring rain. Throughout the week, little things got to you and ticked you off. Your parents were on a new diet and had gone dairy free. The food they cooked wasn't bad but they'd also removed all dairy products from the house, meaning you had to unwillingly partake in the diet also. Usually, it wouldn't have annoyed you but, after a couple of bad days, all you wanted was some ice cream and chocolate.

You got home on Friday evening, just escaping the rain as you opened your front door. You dropped your bag on the floor and slumped on the sofa. The house was completely silent besides the soft patter of rain on the windows. You got up from the sofa and walked to your bedroom. You switched your speaker on and connected it to your phone. Scrolling through your playlists you couldn't decide what you wanted to listen to. You weren't sure whether it was the depressing weather outside or the rough ride you'd had this week but your sad playlist seemed to fit the mood best; the playlist you would normally listen to after watching a sad film or when you were just feeling a bit subdued, like today.

You took your speaker into the bathroom and hopped into your warm shower. You softly sang along to the music as you washed the shampoo out of your hair. After showering, you put on your comfiest trackies and an oversized hoodie you'd stolen from your Dad.

You walked into the kitchen to make something to eat, chucking your phone on the sofa and putting the speaker on the counter beside you. Opening the fridge, you sighed at the lack of interesting food. After scanning the shelves you decided on some pasta with a weird sauce your Dad had bought and flicked the kettle on for the saucepan.

Peter's POV

Peter jumped in through his window after swinging around the city for a couple of hours after school. He sat down at his desk, not bothering to take his suit off in case there was another call. He took off his mask and opened up his laptop, Spotify still open from earlier that day. He clicked shuffle on a playlist before his eyes drifted to the bar on the side. He saw your name at the top of the list. You'd been off all week and Peter had noticed. You'd been quiet and normally you were always making him laugh by making jokes but, this week, you hadn't made any. Peter's eyes flicked over your choice of song and playlist. He knew you well enough to know that when you were listening to that playlist you were upset. Plus you'd told him earlier in the week that your parents were out for the weekend so you were home alone. Without a second thought, Peter slammed his laptop down and jumped off from his chair and over to the window.

He swung off building to building before jumping down to the street. He walked into a shop and within a couple of minutes, reappeared with a tub of your favourite ice cream. He then quickly shot a web towards another building and swung away, trying to avoid the rain as much as possible, the ice cream gripped tightly in his hand.

Y/n's POV

You were sat on the sofa with your bowl of pasta and your laptop, attempting to finish some schoolwork, when a tap at the window caused you to almost throw the remaining pasta sauce all over yourself and the sofa. Putting the nearly empty bowl of pasta down and shutting your laptop, you walked swiftly over to the window. You opened it, allowing the rain-drenched superhero into your house.

"Um, hi?" You said, shocked at Peter's sudden unannounced appearance at your house.

Since you were best friends, Peter had trusted you with the secret of his true identity. To be honest, you probably would've worked it out anyway, seeing as he wasn't the best at hiding his bruises or coming up with excuses as to his whereabouts sometimes.

"Everything alright, Pete?" You asked, scanning his figure for any signs of injury.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he replied, taking off his mask to reveal his brown curls.

"Cool... So, why are you here? Shouldn't you be out doing, I don't know, hero stuff? Saving cats from trees and stopping bank heists and all that, Spidey."

He chuckled, as you sat back down on the sofa. The smile left his face when he took in your appearance; to him, you were always pretty but there was something about you lately that just seemed... well, off. There were large bags under your eyes and Peter couldn't spot their usual twinkle.

"Well, um. this is probably gonna sound really dumb. But I... er... got home and then I sat down in my room and I was gonna do some homework or whatever but I opened my laptop and Spotify was open and then I saw you were listening to your sad playlist. Then, I was thinking how you've seemed really um, down, this week. So I came here to help cheer you up. Oh, and I brought you some ice cream because I know your parents are doing their diet thing so you probably wouldn't have any and-"

"Pete."

"Sorry, I just-" He sat down next to you, "I wanted to make sure you were okay and if you aren't then I wanna do whatever I can to make it better."

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. Suddenly, all the stress from the last week hit you and tears started streaming down your face. Peter had only seen you cry a couple of times, mostly when you watched sad movies together and it made his heart physically ache to see you upset. He pulled away from the hug to look at you.

"Hey, Y/n. It's okay, I'm here. You can tell me, whatever it is." He said calmly, gently stroking your face and wiping the fast flowing tears away.

"I don't know." You whispered, "it's everything. Just- nothing is going right at the moment and I don't know how to fix it. My work isn't as good as it should be and I don't even know what's going on in half my lessons anymore and it's just all too much and I-" You choked on the tears as Peter pulled you closer, burying your had into his chest.

"Shhhh. You're okay." He whispered as he stroked your back. He pulled away and picked up the bag he had discarded on the floor. Reaching in, he pulled out your favourite ice cream and handed it to you.

"Here, now you wait here whilst I quickly change and grab us some spoons. Okay?"

"Okay," You whispered softly, your throat sore from the tears that were still gently streaming down your face. Peter squeezed your arm before quickly going into your room to change out of his suit.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your eyes were red and your skin was blotchy. Peter had never seen you look this rough before but it hadn't phased him nevertheless. A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared in the direction he had just gone. He was so incredibly caring and you were so grateful to have him in your life. Despite everything he had to juggle, he always made sure he had time for you. Sure, he had missed the occasional study session or meet up due to being Spiderman but he had always made it up to you later. You felt the cold chill of stress inside of your chest be replaced with warmth; the warmth that Peter caused to swell inside of you whenever he was near. The butterflies you feel in your stomach whenever he smiles at you or laughs or hugs you. You sighed heavily as the realisation hit you. You thought you had a crush on Peter, but you were wrong. You were completely and hopelessly in love with him.

Soon enough, he reappeared having changed out of his Spiderman suit and grabbed some spoons from the kitchen. He sat on the sofa as you went and sat next to him.

"One for you and one for me," He smiled, handing you a spoon as you opened the lid to the ice cream.

He grabbed the TV remote from beside him and looked at you, "Disney?"

You smiled and nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as he picked one of your favourite Disney films. He grabbed a nearby blanket and pulled it over the two of you as you watched the opening credits to the film.

Peter hoped you couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating as your head rested on his shoulder and your hand lay on his leg. He smiled at you as you softly mouthed each and every word of the film, due to having watched it so many times. He hoped that the twinkle in your eyes was returning. He understood exactly what you were feeling because the truth was that he was feeling it too and both of you just needed some time to chill out and escape from all the stress you were under lately.

After a while, he felt your head become slightly heavier on his shoulder and heard your breaths even out. The film was only about halfway through but your lack of sleep this week had already consumed you and you had fallen asleep. Peter turned his head and softly kissed you on the forehead. Not wanting to disturb you, Peter reached his arm over and grabbed his phone. He texted May saying he was staying at Ned's tonight because he didn't want to leave you by yourself. Equally, it didn't matter that you were by yourself, he didn't want to leave you anyway.

You had always been close but the past few months, you and Peter had gotten closer and closer and since he revealed the secret of his identity to you, he told you everything. You were completely honest with each other about everything. Well, nearly everything. The one thing you both kept hidden were your feelings for one another.

Peter had wanted to tell you so many times but each time, he couldn't find the courage or the words. He cared about you so deeply that he didn't know how to translate it into words without becoming a rambling mess.

Peter was brought back from his thoughts by you raising your head from his shoulder. You looked at the film and saw that the end credits were rolling, you hadn't even realised you'd fallen asleep.

"Oh... oops," You said, chuckling slightly. You looked at Peter who was staring intently at you. "What's wrong?" You asked him.

"Oh, nothing. Don't worry." He responded quickly, blushing and smiling at you.

"Ah c'mon tell me. What's on your mind?" You asked gently nudging him in the arm.

He studied you as the smile dropped from his face slightly and his expression became serious.

"You."

The response caught you off guard but as you opened your mouth to reply, Peter continued, finally understanding how to say what he needed to.

"You're always on my mind, Y/n. I want to know how you're feeling and what you're up to. I want to know everything about you, not just your favourite ice cream and Disney film, but everything else. I want to do the things you like doing, I want to see your smile every day and hear your laugh. I want to tell you stories and cuddle you whilst you sleep. And most of all, I want to know if you love me as much as I love you. Because I do, Y/n. I really love you. And not just because you're my best friend but in every other way as well. I'm in love with you, Y/n and it's taken me this long to finally be able to find the words to tell you how I feel. But, for some reason, seeing you upset today made me realise that I wanted to tell you. Even if you don't feel the same way, I want you to know how I truly feel about you. I trust you more than anyone in the world and I want to be honest with you. So, what is on my mind? You, Y/n Y/l/n. You are because you are the funniest, most caring and most beautiful person I have ever met and I really really like you."

Peter looked up at you and you saw the raw honesty in his eyes; everything he said was true. You didn't know what to say. So you didn't say anything. Instead, you pulled Peter's face towards you and brought your lips to his. After recovering from the initial shock of you kissing him, Peter kissed you back, gently and lovingly. The kiss was filled with emotion as the two of you finally put your true feelings on display.

You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, "I love you too, Peter Parker," you whispered, your hands around his neck. He grinned widely before bringing your lips to his once again.

The stress of the week melted away as Peter held you and stroked your cheek. You grabbed his hand as you walked to your bedroom. You got into bed and shifted over to make room for him. He climbed under the covers, holding his arm out as you nestled into his chest. He kissed your head as his arms draped over you and your breathing became steady as you fell asleep, wrapped in the safety of Peter's arms.

[lovelythesimmer]

feel free to blame @blurri-sim-kid​ for me posting this ;)

plot: based around the events of the Strangerville game trailer, Bella Goth finds herself lost there, with something unexpected happening along the way. Gameplay of the Goth family would’ve followed along what happens after the story.

Bella Goth’s life had always been one of quiet pleasantry.

University came and went easily for Bella. She was a social butterfly, made friends easily, and graduated at the top of her class. She entered the spy academy early; though if anyone asked, her cover story usually involved her being a personal chef. She met her one true love, Mortimer, not long after, got married, and had two beautiful children with him.

To an outsider, Bella Goth seemed to have it all. Her life was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it happened.

***

The day had been warm, getting cooler as the sun sank lower in the horizon. Penny Pizzazz had been having one of her famous parties. For what, Bella couldn’t remember. Maybe because she had gotten a promotion. Maybe because it was someone’s birthday.

Maybe because it was a Tuesday.

A festival went on somewhere in the city streets below. Fireworks shot up in the sky, and everyone in Penny’s apartment crowded around her big bay windows to watch. Soon, rain streaked the glass panels, and everyone said their goodbyes.

Bella’s windshield wipers beat furiously back and forth as she hunched over her steering wheel, peering out into the dark and stormy night. The rain drowned out the music coming from the car’s radio, and Bella looked for any signs that would point her towards the bridge crossing from San Myshuno into Willow Creek. And when she saw none, Bella knew: she was officially lost.

There was nothing but trees to her left and to her right; nothing but rain falling from all around. Oncoming lights blinded her, a car horn forcing her to pull the wheel suddenly and swerve. She hit the shoulder of the road and braked, watching as the car flew by. Bella let out a stream of unintelligible words, and tried to steer her car back onto the road. But it wouldn’t move.

Throwing her sweater over her head, Bella stepped out of the car and groaned. Her tire was flat, and she knew for a fact there wasn’t a spare in the back. Rain pelting her head, Bella climbed back inside, grabbing her cell phone from her purse and switching it on.

There was no signal, no one to call for help.

Just great, she thought, tossing her phone onto the passenger seat and cranking up the heat. For a while, all was silent but the rain, and the soft sound of the music flowing to meet her. Static sent the music in and out, until soon it was nothing but fuzz and hissing.

Bella shut off the radio, and hoped the rain would stop soon. But when it didn’t, a chill went up her spine, and she realized for the first time that she was truly terrified.

But why? she thought. And she didn’t have an answer.

Soon she wouldn’t need one.

After another hour, there were more lights up ahead. They started out dim at first, then got brighter. Bella hopped out of the car, her sweater thrown back over her head. She waved her arms, hoping it was a truck, someone who would save her.

But no. The lights flooded all around her. A helicopter, she thought. But she was wrong again.

The lights… they blinded her. She shielded her eyes. But no, she thought, as she looked again. They were… beautiful. Dazing. Dazzling.

She reached out a hand, spots forming in her vision as the lights got closer. Or maybe she was getting closer to them. If she could just touch them…

The light filled her hand. It bathed her in warmth. She had a sensation almost as though she were floating.

She was floating.

And then it all went black.

***

When Bella first came to her senses, she realized she was hot. The ground below her was hot. Hot wind blew dirt into her face. Sweat slicked back her hair and beaded her forehead. She opened one eye just a crack, then closed it again as more dirt struck her. No, not dirt, she thought. Sand.

Sitting up, Bella winced, holding her hand to her head. The sun beat down on her from the sky, vultures circling the air above her head. Bella didn’t wait long enough to give them time to land.

Standing up, she brushed the sand from her legs. Her shoes were gone, and her feet stung as she moved them slowly across the ground. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Where was Mortimer?

She licked her chapped lips, looking around. She was in a town, smaller than Willow Creek. Men and women in army fatigues walked by, though something about them was off. They seemed… strange.

Bella folded her arms across herself, keeping her head down, keeping her feet moving. If she could just find a phone, call Mortimer.

Where was she? How long had she been gone?

Maybe she’d call Penny.

Someone’s shoulder bumped her own, and Bella moved aside quickly.

“Sorry,” she muttered, and moved to keep walking.

“Are you alright?” a concerned voice asked, and Bella looked up. A boy with orange hair stared at her, and he was wearing something odd on his head. Bella squinted to get a better look. Was that… a pasta strainer?

She heard a rough noise, and it took Bella a moment to realize she was laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped out, and pointed to his head. The boy was young, definitely still a teen, and he frowned when she pointed at him.

He pointed back. “You’re not wearing any shoes,” he said, and she felt herself hunch under his stare. “Come with me,” he said, not giving her any time to answer, grabbing her arm and leading her away.

He smiled at everyone who walked by. They smiled back. Though they didn’t seem happy, or pleasant, or normal. “Where are we?” Bella asked, though the boy just hushed her.

“Not yet,” he said.

They stopped outside a small trailer, and the boy disappeared inside. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of shoes, a bottle of water, and another strainer. “These are my mom’s,” he said, handing her the sneakers. Bella slipped them on her feet, dirty and calloused, and winced. She accepted the water bottle then, and when she didn’t take the strainer, he shoved it in her hands.

“Put that on, it’ll protect you,” he whispered.

“Why?” Bella asked.

“Just put it on,” he said, and though she felt silly, Bella did. She waited for him to burst out laughing, to tell her it was a joke, and when he didn’t, she frowned.

“Where are we?” she asked, and the boy leaned closer.

“You’re in danger,” he whispered, looking around with wide eyes. “It’s not safe here.”

“Can I use your phone? To call my husband?” Bella asked, though the boy shook his head before she even had a chance to finish.

They’re listening, he mouthed, and pointed into the air. Bella looked around behind her, though she saw nothing.

“Who?” she whispered back. “Please, tell me where I am.”

“You’re in Strangetown,” he said. And then, “You’ll be safe here, until tonight. Then I’ll take you home.”

All the warning bells inside Bella went off. She was an agent, after all, and the first rule was never to trust anybody you didn’t know. But after seeing the others, Bella knew this boy had to be the safest one around to trust.

She took no comfort in that at all.

***

Bella sat on the back porch of the trailer and watched the sun sink low into the rock formations surrounding the town. The boy brought her more water, and something to eat. He watched her carefully, and never gave too much information away. All her questions were met with “not now” answers, and “not yet.” She knew she’d have to ask the agency about all of this. Surely someone there would know something.

When the sun finally disappeared from view, the boy locked up the trailer and took her around to the side. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat parked under a tarp. Rust ate the body of the car in patches, and the tailpipe rattled and billowed smoke when he started it up.

Opening the passenger door for Bella, he gestured for her to get in. She hoped this time it was a joke. When it wasn’t, she blanched.

“Are you even old enough to drive?” she asked, and the boy nodded once, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I learned to drive early,” he said, and closed the driver’s door behind him.

Making her way to the other side of the truck, Bella climbed in slowly, adjusting her strainer as it slid down over her eyes.

“Try to keep low,” the boy said, and very slowly edged the truck out onto the dirt road.

Bella watched as the town passed by. Lights inside buildings and homes and shops lit the place up, making it seem serene. All those passing by on the street made it seem like a terror.

“So where exactly is Strangetown?” Bella asked. “Are we near Willow Creek at all?”

“You’re from Willow Creek? How did you end up hear?” the boy asked, not taking his eyes off the road. Bella wondered if he could even actually see it.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was in San Myshuno, at a party. And it was raining, and I was driving home…” Bella wondered where her car was as the memories started to slowly come back. “My tire went flat, and I was waiting for the rain to end. And then…”

Bella shut her eyes, thinking. And then what? She didn’t know. She voiced as much.

“I woke up in your town, on the ground.”

“With no shoes,” the boy added.

“With no shoes,” Bella repeated.

“What would they want with those? Your shoes, I mean. That’s the first I’ve heard of them taking those. I’ll have to make a note of that for my files.”

“Who? Who would want what with my shoes? And what files?”

The boy shook his head, and so did Bella. “Can I use your cellphone now, to call my husband? I’m sure he’s worried.”

“Can’t, I left it at home. They can’t track us this way.”

“Who?” Bella asked. “The ones who took my shoes?”

“No, the others,” the boy said. “The military. The government. The know our every moves. I told you, Bella, Strangetown isn’t safe.”

When the town gave way to more sandy roads, the moon shone clearly overhead. It was full and bright, and there was nothing around them for miles.

Soon, Bella saw a sign on the side of the road. Welcome to Oasis Springs, it read, and Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She was almost home.

More sand soon gave way to grass, and trees. Willow Creek loomed ahead in their sight, and soon, the truck was pulling up outside Bella’s home. It was noisy on their quiet little street, and the boy killed the engine. They sat in silence for a moment, before Bella opened the passenger door and climbed out.

“Thanks,” she said slowly. “For… everything.” She made to take off her hat and give it back, but the boy shook his head.

“You keep it,” he said. “Bella,” he added. “Don’t come back to Strangetown. Ever. Promise me.”

“But - ” Bella began to protest.

“You’re not safe. Don’t come looking for the town. Promise me,” he said again, and Bella nodded.

“I promise.” The words felt heavy on her tongue. It wasn’t a promise she meant to keep.

As the boy started up the truck again, Bella closed the door, then paused. “You never told me your name,” she said.

“It’s better this way,” he said, over the roar of the engine, and then sped off, leaving her standing there in the cold of the night.

The porch light of Bella’s house flipped on, and she turned to see Mortimer standing in the door. His hair was disheveled and his robe pulled tight around him. Gasping, he ran down the steps towards her.

“Bella, honey,” he shouted, and the faces of their children appeared in the window. “Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you, everyone’s been out looking for you. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!”

“How long was I gone?” Bella asked, weary.

“Two days.”

Bella leaned heavily on her husband, realizing just how tired she was. “Mortimer, take me inside,” she pleaded quietly, and with no more questions to ask, he did.

***

About three months later, a hard truth came to the surface for Bella: she was pregnant.

Six months later, an even harder one came to be: the baby obviously was not Mortimer’s. It obviously was not any human’s at all.

Bella pleaded for her husband, and her children, to keep the truth hidden about her new baby. And they did. Mortimer loved her like she was his own, and Cassandra and Alexander accepted their new sibling like nothing was wrong at all.

And if they hadn’t taken a wrong turn four years later, maybe they could have kept pretending that’s how it’s always been.

They were lost. Mortimer was driving, Bella in the seat next to him, the kids in the back. They kept whining, about the heat, about wanting to go home, about one teasing the other.

“Stop!” Bella cried, the kids all thinking she was talking to them. “Mortimer, stop!” she cried again, and Mortimer slammed on the brakes.

A rundown sign stand before them. It had an arrow pointing up a dirt road, one that was obviously not that traveled. The population for the town was covered in sand, unable to be read.

There was no mistaking what the sign said. “Strangerville, ten miles ahead.”

Bella and Mortimer shared a look. They both knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.

They’d come to find out it wasn’t.

[bbloomjoon]

BTS Reacts to: you randomly saying ‘I love you’

Jin

It had been a pun that started it all. Jin had made the pun as he passed by you, a small chuckle leaving him as he laughed at his own joke. You had turned around and shot back your own at him as a grin tugged at your lips. He turned towards you, brows raised in a silent challenge. You quirked yours back at him and the fight was on.

You and Jin took turns pulling out your best jokes on each other, feeling accomplished when the other doubled over in laughter. You had tears in your eyes by the time you both called it quits. Your laughter had quieted down until you looked at each other, smiles wide as they tried to conceal more laughter. You made a face at Jin and the laughter between the two of you erupted again.

The laughter died down, for good this time, and you were left staring at each other. You watched as he wiped away the remaining tears from his eyes, smile still on his face. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. But his eyes took your breath away. They appeared to be gleaming and you didn’t know if it was from the tears or from pure enjoyment.

“I love you.”

You caught him off guard. He lifted his eyes to you and held them before moving his gaze to the kitchen counter. “With olive your heart?” Jin asked as he held up a jar of olives that was sitting on the counter.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he spoke.

Yoongi

You and Yoongi were cuddled together on the couch watching movies. It was nearing the early hours of the morning but you didn’t want to head to bed just yet. Yoongi had been busy for the past few days and this was the only alone time you guys would have. You suppressed a yawn by pulling the blanket that covered the both of you up to cover the lower half of your face.

“Why don’t we head to bed?” Yoongi reached for the remote on the coffee table but your hand pulled him back, your head making its way onto his shoulder. He chuckled, knowing that you were going to be stubborn if he continued to push the matter. His eyes went back to the TV while you shifted your head so that your eyes could study him. His hair was messy yet it still looked perfect to you. His eyes were fixed on the TV and you could see the bags underneath them from him working late. Despite how much he had been working the past few days, his face was completely relaxed. He looked like an ethereal being in the soft glow from the TV.

“I love you,” Your voice pulled Yoongi’s attention to you. It was quiet between you two, the only sound coming from the TV. You smiled up at him, “I really do. I love you so much.”

A small smile broke out on Yoongi’s face. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss, his hand reaching up and cupping your face. He pulled away from you and let out a quiet laugh. “I love you too.”

Hoseok

To say you were having a rough day would be an understatement. You were late to work, spilled both your coffee and lunch on yourself, had to walk home when you missed the bus, and broke your heel while walking home. You wouldn’t be surprised if it started raining while you were still on your way home.

At least one thing went your way as you stepped into your home dry. You kicked off your heels and threw your bag next to them before making your way into the living room, searching for your boyfriend. You found Hoseok laid out on the couch, arms above his head as he watched whatever was playing on the TV. You approached the couch and he immediately perked up as soon as you entered his line of sight. He smiled at you, “Y/n! How was work?”

You didn’t respond to him. Instead you flopped down onto his chest, wrapping your around his chest and smothering your face into his chest. You felt his hand begin to stroke your hair and sighed at the feeling.

“That bad?” He stared at the top of your head as he continued to stroke your hair. “Y/n…” You peaked up at him, “Tomorrow is a different day, one that will be better than today. You’ll be unstoppable tomorrow.” He gave you another smile, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

“I love you.” You spoke without thinking but you didn’t care. You were absolutely in love with Hoseok.

“I love you too,” He gave your forehead a quick peck, “There’s ice cream in the freezer. Want to eat that for dinner?”

God, you were so in love with him.

Namjoon

“The sink! Put it in the sink!” Your yelling startled Namjoon, causing him to almost drop the scorching hot pan he had in his hands.

“Get the pot- it’s boiling over! Stop it!” Namjoon shouted back at you as he raced to the sink to try and attempt to fix the burned food that stuck to the bottom of the pan.

You looked behind you in horror as you watched the pot begin to boil out under the lid. You rushed to the stove and turned it off. You lifted the lid of the pot, hoping to see that there was nothing wrong with the food, but were met with blackened pasta. You turned towards Namjoon at the sink, “It’s a no go. Any luck on your end?”

A loud snapping noise answered your question as Namjoon held up the broken spatula in one hand and the burnt pan in the other, eyes wide as he stared between you and the other end of the broken spatula stuck in the burnt meat. Your mouth hung open at the fact that he had broken a metal spatula. You stared at him for a few seconds before breathing out a laugh, face changing from shock to amusement.

“I love you,” You walked over to him and leaned up, stealing a quick kiss before grabbing the broken spatula from his hand. You felt Namjoon press his chest to your back, arms wrapping around your waist. You turned the spatula over in your hand a few times, “Take out? I’ve got a coupon for that new place that opened.”

“Sounds good.” Namjoon rested his head on your shoulder, enjoying the moment that the two of you were having, even if the fire alarm started blaring a few seconds later.

Jimin

You were sitting against the far wall in the practice room watching Jimin dance. His rough breathing and shoes squeaking against the floor being the only sounds to fill the room. You switched between watching his back and watching him through the mirrors. Every now and then his eyes would catch yours, causing him to raise his brow at you and smirk as he ran his hand down his body. You laughed and turned your attention to your phone, trying to not get caught as you continued to sneak glances at him.

Jimin stopped dancing and made his way over to you, grabbing the water bottle that you held out to him. He downed half of it before he turned his attention to you. You stared up at him, head slightly tilted to the side as you watched the metaphorical cogs turn in his head. He set the bottle down and reached for your hands, pulling you up from your sitting position and dragging you to the middle of the floor.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You laughed as he twirled you around.

He laughed back, “Feel the music and dance with me, Y/n.” You decided to ignore the fact that there was no music playing.

He moved your body with his, but he wasn’t dancing the same way he was five minutes ago. You noticed that his dancing now was goofy as he twirled you this way and that. He placed his hands on your lower back and dipped you. You stared up at him as he held you, adoring the way the lights seemed to make him glow.

“I love you.” You whispered up at him. Jimin leaned down and kissed you, humming against your lips. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer.

Taehyung

You weren’t having the best of weeks. Everything that could go wrong went wrong and it was taking its effects on you. Taehyung noticed that you weren’t your normal self and decided to make you feel better. He scheduled a couples’ spa treatment for the two of you to help you relax. You were kind of excited for it. A whole day relaxing with Taehyung by your side sounded like heaven to you. You couldn’t wait.

And then your alarm clock didn’t go off in the morning.

You woke up and opened your eyes, only to immediately close them as the bright light in the room hit you. You opened them again once you adjusted to the light, groaning at the fact that you were know awake. You shifted to get into a more comfortable position and felt Taehyung’s arms tighten around your waist. Smiling, you reached for your phone to see how much time you had left until you had to get up and get ready for your relaxing day.

Your eyes became the size of saucers when you saw that it was almost twelve in the afternoon. Three hours past your scheduled appointment.

You groaned again. “Tae,” You rolled around until you were facing him. His eyes were still closed but you could see him trying to keep the smile off of his face. You poked his cheek, “We’re late. By three hours.” Taehyung opened his eyes at that. You sighed, brows knitting together in slight frustration at yourself for not setting an alarm.

Taehyung hummed in thought, “That’s okay.” You gave him a confused look. He had the entire day planned at the spa and now those plans were down the drain. “As long as I have you then everything is okay.” He gave you a smile that made you fall for him all over again.

“I love you.” Your hands ran through his hair and brought his forehead to rest it against yours.

“I know.” He gave you another smile and you swear you felt yourself falling for him yet again.

Jungkook

You enjoyed spending time with Jungkook, really you did, but when he did nothing but play games while you were over was a bit irritating. You came over around noon hoping that you and Jungkook could go out to eat. When you asked him, he had nodded with a mumble of ‘five more minutes, hold on.’ That was an hour ago and you were having some difficulty getting his attention.

“Jungkook, baby, come one,” You dragged out your words hoping that they would catch his attention but you were met with silence. You huffed, annoyance quickly settling over you. You looked around before making your way to the kitchen cabinets. You pulled out a bag of chips, one that Jungkook was specifically saving for the party that was this weekend. You plopped beside him on the couch, twisting the bag around in your hands so that it would make noise to draw his attention to you. Nothing. “I hope you don’t mind me opening these chips, Kook, I’m starving.” Once again, nothing came from him. You glared at him and threw the bag onto the coffee table.

“Jungkook, I’m leaving you. I’m leaving you to be with my true love, Esteban Julio Ricardo Montoya de la Rosa Ramírez.” No response.

“I broke your computer and all your game discs.” Nothing.

“I’m pregnant with your child.” Nil.

“Jungkook, I’m naked.” Nope.

“I love you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, “Really?”

“Of course,” You replied, startled by his sudden reaction.

“I love you too.” He gave you a huge smile, causing you to smile back at him. You went to nestle up next to him until you realized something.

“That was a pretty fast reaction. Could you hear me the entire time?”

Jungkook let out a nervous laugh as he put his controller onto the coffee table. “How about I take you out to lunch. You must be starving by now.”

[angel-scythe]

I need you : Chapter 20

Hi Everybody!!

Here’s my 20th chapter!

It holds more Hankcon than Reed900 this time. I hope you’ll love it anyway!!

Have a nice day!!

As you know, pass my door |  °| or keep reading!

In his chest, Connor’s heart was still hammering and it was almost hard to breath. He didn’t smell as good, didn’t look as good as Hank. The man had made a lot of efforts. He shouldn’t have listen is brother?

But… yes, he needed to listen to his brother. His brother was so intelligent…

“You look lovely,” Hank said as he was closing the door.

“Woof!”

“Look at that, Sumo thinks the same!”

“Thanks. Both of you. But… you look lovelier. I… I think?”

“Thank you. Wanted to impress you.” Hank saw his partner uneasy. “For work,” he said.

Connor laughed a bit, feeling uneasy. “I bring you chocolate. I thought… it would be great.” He handed them to him and the man accepted it with a smile and thanks. “I found a good place for Blossom. She’ll have a lot of sun and I’ll water her well.”

“So you love… her?”

“Yes, really much. Thank you.”

Hank smiled then moved to the living room, calling Sumo. “Come, Connor. Let’s have a seat.”

The younger did follow him and took the seat offered to him. The big dog came to him so Connor caressed him with a smile. Here, it was more soothing. Even if he had seen the document, the papers and the computer. The sheets of paper made the younger smile. In that strange case about Androids, when they had decided to let the Revolution go on, Hank had said to him how much he loved the smell of papers, how he loved to read books. That was at that apartment. The first time he decided to don’t follow the orders because…. Well, Rupert Travis had done nothing except being a Deviant.

And after that… they had let the Tracis go because it was only self-defense.

Androids were just like them and today, he was happy of that choice. Of the choice Hank had helped him to do because his own brother took advantage of that.

“Do you want something?” Hank asked. “Something to drink? Or eat? The spaghettis are ready if you want. I wanted to add meat ball and then… I wasn’t sure anymore. I still can add them. That will take few minutes but I can do it. As you wish, Connor.”

“You like meat so… I’m up for the meat and… we will work while it gets ready? Maybe?”

“Yes.” Hank got up. “Connor…”

“Yes?” he squeaked.

“Please, relax. We know each other and we’re working, right?”

“But… it’s also a date and I don’t know what to do.”

“Just what you want, Connor. What makes you fine.”

Connor watched the man as he walked to the kitchen to throw some meatball in a pan when the pasta where in a kettle, done and just waiting for them to eat. The younger caressed Sumo and even kissed his big head.

A bit after, the Lieutenant came back and sat next to him.

The boy bend on the coffee table to look the information on a tablet, passing his fingers to switch between the information.

Hank looked him, couldn’t prevent a tiny smile on his lips. He found him so pretty… The way his hair fell back, the way the light shone against his soft skin… looking so soft. The way he moved.

“So… you…” Hank hesitated because Connor wanted to work, feel better but…

Yes that was a date. They couldn’t lie to themselves that way.

However, Anderson couldn’t bore the idea to hurt Connor or making him uncomfortable. Connor saw his efforts. He wanted to reply to them.

“What about Cole, if I may? You have news from him? Niles saw him yesterday and he said he was doing well.”

“Oh…” Hank smiled. “Fantastic. It’s… fantastic.”

Connor realized his smile wasn’t so happy…

“I’m sorry…”

“No. I’m happy to know that. I just didn’t saw him since a while. But I’m trying to have him for Christmas.”

“Christmas! That’s a beautiful day to have him. Does he… does he still believe in Santa Claus?”

“He’s nine, so yes,” Hank laughed softly. He saw Connor’s face and frowned a bit before laughing even more. “Well, you’re really smart so I’m not surprise you stopped to believe earlier.”

Connor put down the tablet he had in hands.

“In fact… I kind of never believed in?”

“Never?”

Connor shook his head. “My mother thought it was really stupid. The first time they had talked about Santa Claus at school, I had four, I think, and when I asked why he didn’t come at our house, my mother said it was a liar used to force parents to buy presents.” He noticed Hank’s shocked face. “But she was a great mother! She’s right, it’s not useful to have present! Especially if that come from an old strange man! See, I never accepted candies from strangers,” he laughed softly.

Hank smiled at this sweet joke.

“But…”

Connor looked him, shyly. God, was it okay if he took out his coin to play with? He was so stressed!

“You never had present?”

“My mother thought, and still think, it’s bad to offer things to people when they didn’t deserve them.”

“But you never…”

“We received a bit of money if we had a good year at school. Niles more than me because he did better.”

“It’s…”

“It’s normal! I’m not mad against him. And he was really cute all the time. He used the difference to offer us some candies and we ate them together.” Connor smiled, lost in his thought. “Before today, he was the only person buying me things without I deserved it…”

“Connor!”

The younger jumped and moved a bit in the sofa. He felt oppressed when Hank went just next to him and took his hands.

“You don’t have to deserve present!”

“May… Maybe? But my mom is also right… I didn’t need all of these.”

“It warms the heart. It show to someone you care for them. That doesn’t have to be useful. It just…another way to express your love to someone.”

“You’re saying my Mother doesn’t love my brother and me?”

Hank blinked, his hand still in his big one. “I… I…”

The words Connor whispered were like a big slap in his face. Did he…

“What… what did you say?”

“You’re right…” Connor smiled a bit. “But… But I’m happy Cole will have presents! Did you have already those you want? Can I offer him something? And what can I offer him?”

Hank smiled to him a bit. “So… You do love Cole?” he asked.

“Yes! And, especially, I lo…” Connor blushed. “I… You’re fine and I want you to be happy? So if he’s happy…”

“I’m happy, yes.” Hank looked him. “I’d also be happy if you could come at Christmas.” His face looked blank. “Crap… is this to quick?” he asked. “Just forget!”

“I don’t know. For Christmas, we have a big family reunion every year and now Niles is better so he’ll probably come and I really can’t let him alone there, Lieutenant.”

Hank’s thumbs were caressing his hands. “Why don’t you… go for ‘Hank’?”

“Excuse me?”

“I just offered you to… call me ‘Hank’ since we’re…”

“Oh… Oh, yes! Yes. If you want to. Yes… Hank.” Connor blushed.

“Except if you don’t feel it?”

“I… I feel it? I think? I… don’t know…”

“I’m sorry. Just… stay comfortable.” Hank let go of his hands and got up to join the kitchen and check the meatballs.

The silent went back and Connor didn’t know how he needed to react. If he called Hank ‘Hank’, could he work? That was so strange. And it wasn’t so warm in there. Him, with his only t-shirt… he was freezing.

And what should he do with his hands? Where was his coin? He started to ruffle his pockets, his hands twitching, when he received a big lick on his face. Of course, it wasn’t Hank but Sumo and he started to caress it fur, so fluffy. And so distracting.

Soon, he heard a tiny sound and looked the plate put down on the coffee table.

“Here you are,” Hank said.

“We eat here?”

“You want to eat at the table?” The old man was about to eat a fork of the meal but he got up.

Fuck! The table wasn’t undressed from… all its mess. Connor knew about that but he wasn’t proud. So much empty noodles cup, pizza cardboard so greasy, and beer… by dozen.

“No, no. Please. Here, it’s fine.” Connor reach to him but didn’t dare to touch  his hand.

However, Hank took it. Softly. Sweetly.

“Okay… Do you want something to drink, I forgot about that.”

“Just water but I can…”

“I’m inviting you.” Hank pressed a kiss on his hand. “I’m coming back.”

Connor watched the man leaving for the kitchen, once again. He switched just a bit and caressed, once again, Sumo.

When the man came back, he had a glass of water and a beer bottle in his hand. Connor thanked him and took the glass to sip a bit before taking the spaghettis’ dish. He was so uneasy, his fork turning in the pastas.

The silent.

Once again.

He should work maybe?

It was hard to him because he didn’t know what to do. Was it supposed to say it was yummy? Was he supposed to talk? He watched his hand because the kiss that had landed on it was really soft and he wanted to do something but… but what?

“So… Cole is in 3rd Grade, right?”

“4th Grade, in fact. Since he’s at the first of the school year.”

“End of September, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You had it for his birthday?”

“No…”

“I’m sorry.”

Hank shook his head. “Don’t worry. That’s not your fault.”

Connor hesitated because his face was so sad now. He switched a bit to come nearer. Like from on inch?

“You look like a great father to me… Well… I’m clearly not the good reference.”

“It’s a long story… But…” Hank bit his lower lips. “Fuck!” He looked toward the younger Lieutenant. “Lori wants to punish me,” he finally said.

“How’s that?” Connor muttered.

“She’s younger than you. A bit younger. I met her because she had been robbed and she went for a claim. I was the only available and took care of her. While the filing, we joked a bit and that was pretty cool. I didn’t see anything long but when she asked me out, I found it was bold and quite sexy so I accepted. It was fun but… she wasn’t for me.”

Connor frowned.

“I don’t get it…”

“We had sex…”

“Oooh! I get it! She was pregnant from that time?”

“Yes. So I assumed the baby, for her and… I wanted to be father, to be honest. I was quite excited by that and Lori was fun so that could work? That was what I believed. But… few after Cole’s birth, I fell in love. Not with Lori. First, I tried to forget those feeling, being loyal to Lori, to my baby Cole but I was just lying to me. I found it was horrible to stay with Lori in this situation and I offered her a good divorce. I was ready to pay a rent for her and Cole and even to let her have it at the beginning, offering to start the sharing when he’ll be three or four? But she didn’t like that…”

“Why you didn’t attack in justice?”

“I did, Con’, I did… At this time, I was ‘working too much and my job was too dangerous’. That destroyed me… I already thought about attack again but I’m a fucking alcoholic. A barrel of beer. I do…”

Hank looked toward the table where he was so often playing Russian roulette…

Nobody will let him have his Cole back. He never saw him and he just wanted to hug his baby. What that will happen at Christmas!

“And… and what about the person you loved?” Connor asked. “They said ‘yes’?”

Hank looked him with a soft smile.

“Connor…”

“Yes?”

“It’s you.”

The younger blushed.

“You… You mean it’s… it’s my fault? It’s my fault if you’re not with Cole? It’s… I… I’m supposed to…”

“No, no… I fell in love with you but you don’t have to do anything, Connor. I swear. Though I asked for be your partner to know… Know if it was a crush or way more than that…”

“No!” Connor got up so quickly the dish fell in the floor and broke, splashing the meal everywhere.

The younger shivered, his eyes widened by the horror. And he paced backward.

“I can’t… I can’t… I can’t be with you just because you had lost Cole because of me. I don’t… I’m not… You don’t…”

Hank got up, just after shifting his plate on the sofa, and he moved to him. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not asking you anything. I was just saying the truth to you. But I don’t expect you to be with me because of that.”

“But… No. No. No… I need… I need my brother. I…” Connor paced backward and when he felt the wall against his back, suddenly, all became black in his mind and he just slid on the floor.

“Connor?”

The younger shook his head, moving slowly his hand and pressed them against his ears, his head so low it almost touched the floor and he whispered the “no” again and again.

[awkward-radar-tech]

Duct Tape and Helmets

Summary: When you accidently toss your phone across the room during a playful debate, shattering a picture frame, Clyde returns with a helmet and some duct tape.

A/N - warnings: This is a mostly fluffy fic, but it is mentioned that reader has a mental illness that causes sudden mood swings and is working to find a proper treatment. It was meant to be complete fluff, but this is where it went in my head.

Prompt from @michaelathewordsmith: Clyde x Reader based on the song "stay stay stay" revolving around their relationship this time, it's told in his perspective.

He couldn't believe what he was finding in the depths of his closet, so far he has found a few things he “borrowed” from Jimmy in his teenage years, a fake love note that Mellie wrote for him his junior year so he could “prove” he had a girlfriend at a different school across the state, some random assignments, his first photo after boot camp, but not what he was looking for yet. Finally, after more digging Clyde found what he was looking for, his old football helmet from when he was forced to play his freshman year due to his size alone. He strapped it on, grabbed the roll of duct tape from his dresser, and slowly returned to the living room.

You and him were having one of your playful debates, this time about what pasta cut was the best, and right when your energies were highest, you got a call from an annoying acquaintance who won't get the hint you don't want to hang out without your mutual friends and ended up throwing your phone across the room. It flew past Clyde’s head and broke the frame that held a caricature from the fair of Clyde as a princess and you as a knight in shining armor. He left the room to get duct tape to fix the frame and decided to find his helmet to give you more time to calm down, and just to be the smartass you loved.

When he returned, you were crying over the broken frame. He was worried you had hurt yourself on the splinters or the glass and quickly came to your side.

He placed his hand on your shoulder, “Darlin, what's wrong? Did you hurt yourself on the broken pieces? You could have stayed on the couch, I told you I was gonna grab some tape to fix the frame.”

He watched you as you stayed looking at the pieces, “No, Clyde, I didn't hurt myself on the pieces. I just realized I'm not your knight in shining armor, especially when I throw my phone at your head. I understand if you want to break up with me.”

He moved to sit down facing you instead of squatting at your side, “Sweet pea, you are so much more than my knight in shining armor. And I know you didn't mean to aim at my head, I just happened to be in front of you. And hey, at least your phone is okay, that is why you have a good case on it. I cannot even fathom breaking up with you. Can you please look at me, darlin?”

He watched as you slowly raised your head, looking over him and then letting out a laugh, “Where the hell did you get that, babe?”

He couldn't help but smile, seeing your mood was getting better, “Freshman year of high school. The coach didn't give me much of a choice about playing for that first season, he liked my size. I hated every second of it and was so glad it was over I burned the jersey that summer, but I kept my helmet thinking it could be helpful one day. Today was my lucky day.”

You just shook your head, “You are such a smartass, you know that, right?”

“Exactly why I put it on. And you know you love it, because then you can throw it right back at me.”

“That is true.”

He scooted closer to you and pulled you into a tight hug and kiss, you deserved all the love he could give, no matter what. It hurt him deep down to see your struggles with finding proper treatment for your mental illness, but he would stick by you through the constant ups and downs and curves. You had confessed to him many times that nobody stuck around very long due to your unpredictable mood swings, and that it was fine to leave when he had enough. Little did you know that he meant it wholeheartedly every time he told you he would stick around for as long as you wanted him around because he loves you for you and won't let an illness deter him. Rolling with a switch in mood was hardly the obstacle you and others have painted it out to be, maybe it is just because he is easy going and adapts to change easily. He reads the situation quickly and gives you what you need, whether that is love and comfort, space, reassurance, or a hand to hold in silence, he does it and makes sure to check up on you. He knows you hate the phrase “normal mood”, and prefer the more clinical sounding “baseline mood”. While he understands and emphasizes with some of your struggles, he knows he will never completely know what you go through and accepts that fact. He loves you no matter what, and he plans on staying by your side through everything.

He stayed seated, holding you close, until you began to squirm and then let you go, “What do you need darling? Anything I can help you with?”

You spoke softly, just above a whisper and Clyde had to listen closely to hear you, “I think I want to fix the frame myself.”

He decided to join you lowered volume, somehow making his accent muddle his words more than normal, “Sweet pea, ya don't have ta do that. I got it, you can just rest some more.”

You laughed at his drawled words and his sentiment, “Baby, you have one hand, how do you expect to hold the pieces and wrap them in tape?”

He hadn't thought that far, he just knew he was going to fix it, “Uh, I have my ways. I would get it fixed eventually.”

“How about you just rip off the pieces I need and I do the taping?”

“Alright, that can work.”

He carefully pushed the pieces of glass to the side, away from the pieces of wood, then began ripping off strips of duct tape and lightly pressing them to his helmet while you found the matching pieces. After he had a few strips placed on his helmet, he ripped off some more and used them to pick up the pieces of glass from the floor. He stopped his work when he heard your voice.

“Okay, Clyde, I'm -” and then your sentence was lost to giggles, he was pretty sure it was because of the duct tape fringe his helmet now had.

He decided to play into your mirth, “Ma’am I will have you know you are laughing at the latest fashion, Dookt Tapée Forange by Claudius.”

You began to laugh harder, and he couldn't help but laugh too, both of you falling into each other, resting against the other until you both had calmed down. When you both sat up, he heard you gasp, and when he looked at you, you were pointing at the side of his head. Reaching up his hand, he felt it, he accidentally pressed two pieces of duct tape to his hair when he leaned into you.

“Fucking hell! The latest fashion attacked me. I'm gonna sue Claudius!”

You were already removing the other pieces from his helmet, “Here, babe, let me fix this.”

He sat still as you slowly pulled his hair free from to adhesive, thankfully it wasn't pressed in too badly. The strips were removed, but there was still a sticky residue left in his hair. He immediately grabbed his phone and called Mellie, she should know how to get this gunk out of his hair. After some laughter and scolding, Mellie gave him a few things to try and told him never to put sticky things near his hair again or she would shave it all off because most of her clients would kill to have hair like his. He grunted out an “Okay mom” before thanking her and hanging up. He gathered the needed supplies, and with your help applying the remedies, the sticky residue washed out.

With his hair back to normal, he helped you finish fixing the frame and hung it back up. Then he told you to settle in on the couch and find something to watch while he grabbed some food. Going into the kitchen, searching through the fridge, he settled on some leftover pizza and Chinese takeout, a beer for himself, a soda for you, and then he grabbed a couple of glasses and his water pitcher just to have something healthy. He carefully balanced everything on the pizza box, thankfully it all fit since he had gotten the extra-large for the purpose of leftovers, and walked out to you. He had your assistance as soon as he entered your line of sight, and you carefully removed the more precariously balanced items. After placing his remaining items on the table, Clyde settled down on the couch with some food and his beer, smiling when you cuddled up next to him.

The rest of the evening was spent eating, watching the cooking competition shows you had selected to watch, and enjoying being next to one another. Clyde thought to himself that he wouldn't ask to change today even if he had the choice.

[herheroics]

can we get some avalance with something to do with the legends please

SEND ME YO DRABBLE REQUESTSI GOT YOUR BACK

    as she put  the finishing touches onto the dinner, ava smiled with a nod. she had banned the legends from entering the kitchen until she was finished, well mostly banning sara and ensuring the blonde didn’t enter, but banning all of the legends for the whole night was her plan, she and sara hadn’t been together in a long time because of the legends, she really missed time with the blonde, that was however where she was now, fixing up the kitchen to make it look semi okay for their impromptu date, hell, she was even wearing a dress.

    this dress, this dress however was better looking than her other one, it was, perhaps, because she was more confident with how things were going. the tight red dress with a v shaped cleavage, paired with a red set of heels of her own, she was hot, she looked hot, and she was wanting to take the other blonde to bed later that night, she was incredibly hot after all. 

   calling out, ava informed gideon that she could let sara know she could return. lighting the candles on the table, ava straightened out her dress and stood, facing the direction of which sara would be walking from with a rose in hand, she wasn’t normally this sappy but for sara, things were definitely going to change. it was moments later that the blonde of her thoughts and dreams had walked into the kitchen, wearing her own black dress and heels, it was definitely a delicious sight to see.

    “you look beautiful.” ava smiled as she stepped closer to the shorter blonde to meet her half way as she pressed a kiss to her lips and handed the captain the rose. the look that crossed sara’s face made ava happy that she had chosen to pick the dress “you look stunning babe, and I wish I could take you back to my room with you and show you just how good looking you look and ravish you in that dress.” sara grinned as she moved to tug ava in the direction of her quarters but stopped with a pout as she noticed ava wasn’t budging.

    “noooo I’ve actually cooked this meal, it’s an actual home made cooked meal that i did for you and want to eat with you and then take you back to your room and ravish each other later.” ava grinned as she tugged the blonde in the direction of the table and pulled the chair out to seat sara at the table before going around to sit opposite her.

   “okay, now here is everything. dessert, actual dessert and not me, is available afterwards and you will be eating it so do not pout at me like that because you need to eat both.” ava smirked at the blonde as she used her foot to rub up the inside of sara’s thigh, trying to tell her she’d make it up to her later.

   they spent then next short while eating the mains and talking to one another about basically everything and she honestly couldn’t have been having a better time. the frown she had however formed on her face the moment the heard the foot steps approach the table “oh food, I thought I smelled something.” zari grinned as she took the seat to ava’s side and picked some things of the time bureau’s plate and popped them into her mouth. ava was about to tell the muslim woman off before they were soon joined by mick, who took one of sara’s sides and began to pick the food off of the blonde’s plate. 

   “you both honestly need to leave, now. I promised it’d break both of your legs if you came into the kitchen.” the time bureau director spoke with a glare as she placed her cutlery down on the plate as she turned her gaze to glare at the woman beside her “yeah but, we were hungry and it smells so good.”

    before she could even speak, the heard of the legends was heard and the rest soon followed in, with wally speeding ahead of them as ava groaned. they were soon surrounded by every legend just sitting around, eating the foot and drinking the alcohol, ruining the time “You are all bloody children.” with a huff, ava stood up and pressed a few buttons on her courier and stepped through, closing it behind her quickly, not allowing anyone to follow.  

   turning her gaze to the legends ahead of her, sara placed her cutlery down on the plate and stood up with a glare whilst they all just stared at her with their mouths open “what…?”

    with a roll of her eyes, sara placed her hands on her hips as she sent the legends a glare “you do know I won’t stop her from putting you guys into time out right? you honestly deserve it now by ruining the night she had planned.”

    the moment the taller blonde arrived at her apartment, she stripped off her dress and threw it on the ground before heading into her bedroom to grab and oversized shirt to pull it on. the legends always seemed to ruin everything, the one thing she wanted was to be able to have some quiet time with the captain, but instead, she’s back at her apartment in a huff, with her gorgeous dress on the ground.

   moving back into the lounge room from her bedroom, ava grabbed the files off the bench and sat herself down on the lounge and began to write out the notes that were required, at least if she buried herself in files, she could at least depend on them to not screw up like the legends. letting out a sigh, ava tilted her head to the back of the lounge and looked up at the roof, if only the legends made it easier, then they could have some alone time. 

     she sits like that for a few moments, taking in a few deep breaths before closing her eyes, she already had a headache from before and the paperwork seemed to make it worse, maybe she’d just sit here for a few moments and just take a moment. she didn’t know how long had passed before hearing the whooshing sound of a portal, she knew it wasn’t anyone from the time bureau, she had told them to not disturb her, which meant one thing: the legends.

    “oh come on, when someone storms off, that means they don’t want to be followed.” the blonde groaned as she opened her eyes to see the legends standing there sheepishly, each with some plate of food in their hands. with a raised eyebrow, ava stood up, crossing her arms across her chest as she stared them down. when her gaze went passed mick, she couldn’t help but notice him staring at her legs, something that caused the director to groan inwardly, she only just realised she was still just wearing her shirt and panties but there was no point in backing down. she raised her eyebrows deeper at them, just where was this going?

   clearing her throat, amaya spoke “I for some reason was nominated to speak on behalf of the legends, probably because I’m the most sane logical one out of the lot of us, except for the one that you’re sleeping with…but we just wanted to say we are sorry, and for being sorry, we’ve each cooked you a meal that is part of our families histories, except Mick, he has brought you beer, because that’s, well, part of his families history.” amaya spoke as she was the first to move to place her plate down on the bench before offering ava a smile and headed back towards the portal, of which she was soon followed by the rest of the legends, except for sara.

   sara closed the portal and moved across the threshold, noticing the crumpled dress on the floor before turning her attention to ava, even with heels on, sara was still shorter than the blonde. “you know, you looked incredibly beautiful in that dress, I also would be preferred to take it off myself..although I do like seeing you in this shirt with just your panties on too.” sara spoke softly as she lifted the shirt up slightly and placed her hands on the taller blonde’s lower back with a smile.

   “I bet you did, and I wanted that too, but, you know what it’s like with kids, things don’t always go as planned.” the blonde commented softly, she wished the night had gone smoother, she really did enjoy just speaking and being with the blonde, if only they didn’t have the children to look after then it’d be so much easier, or at least, somewhat easier.

   sara leaned up on her tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to ava’s lips and smiled as she pulled away “come on, I’ve got an idea.” smiling, sara let go off ava and walked towards the food, grabbing a few dishes, as well as the dessert dish, and indicated for ava to grab some cutlery before heading into ava’s bedroom with the dishes.

    “food in bed miss lance? as long as you don’t make a mess then I’m fine to eat in bed with you.” with a grin, sara placed the dishes on the bed and crawled up onto her side as ava crawled onto her own, grabbing the remote to the tv and switched on netflix, turning it to the tv series they were watching before leaning back into the bed head with a sigh.

    “you know what.?” ava commented softly as she grabbed the plate of pasta bake and pulled it to her mouth with her fork as she turned her attention to sara, the other blonde who was waiting for her to say something. “I’m actually glad the legends screwed up our dinner,  this is so much better than what we were doing...I’ll always love dinner in bed with you.” ava grinned as she smiled at the blonde before her.

    “I’ll do anything in bed with you anytime.”