#he usually takes good ones but his new phones kinda tricky even for me to figure out at the moment

[mollificen]

THIS REMINDS ME:

When I was about 15 years old (this was like December 2020)

I was very pissy and hungry and hormonal and I was making a toastie

And my dad came up behind me, and put his hands on my waist and hugged me by the waist

And I didn’t like that so I was pissy and I snapped at him

I told him I didn’t like it and how I didn’t want him to do that and he got upset

Apparently I was making him feel like he was gross (I really can’t remember this clearly but I think he was implying I was making him feel like he was a pedophile?)

He was basically offended he couldn’t touch my waist

So I got even angrier at his reaction and told him to stop gaslighting me (cringe inducing I know)

He didn’t know what that meant so my mum explained from the other room and he got upset and stroppy

So then he made a point of walking to the opposite side of the kitchen whenever I walked anywhere (for example he was by the fridge, I went to put the butter away, so he made a big show of walking away to the other side of the room)

So my sister (13) asked what was going on and he said he was “making sure he didn’t violate my boundaries” or some bullshit (I’m struggling to remember)

He was doing this maliciously I think, to punish me for being mad

And I just

Started sobbing

I bawled and bawled and bawled until my mum was hugging me and screaming at him about how it was teaching me to let boys assault me (he listened then)

And it’s so messy because. I hate him for that. The memory still hurts when I remember it but at the same time I love him because he’s my dad

I love him and I hate him and I really don’t like him but at the same time I’m desperate to make him happy

I’m constantly feeling like I’m contradicting myself when it comes to him, and i don’t even know what to do anymore

I feel really guilty about this but a lot of the time when people get super happy, jokey or show a lot of love randomly I assume they’re drunk

Or if someone I don’t talk to that much talks to me over text I assume they’re drunk

And it’s rude right? Of me to assume that

Why do i assume that people only want / like time when they’re drunk

Why am instantly assuming that’s the only time people will be truly happy with me

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I

Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!

Series Masterlist

Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.

———

“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”

As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”

Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.

“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”

…

When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.

When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.

Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”

“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”

Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”

“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”

“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.

“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”

“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.

Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.

“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”

“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”

…

They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.

“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”

“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”

Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”

Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”

“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”

“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.

Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”

“So they are better than mine?”

Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”

…

A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.

Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”

Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”

“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”

“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.

“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.

“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”

Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”

“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”

“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”

“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”

“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”

Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”

“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”

“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”

Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”

“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”

Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”

“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.

Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”

…

“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.

He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.

I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!

Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.

I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!

Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.

JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉

Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.

JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.

———

Tags: @spacedikut

[ficsnroses]

Intimate - John Wick x Reader (nsfw A-Z headcanons)

Word Count : Way too many. (little under 5K...im so sorry guys you know I have a problem)

Warnings : Smut. Fluffs.

Summary : All about your sex life with John :)

A/N : Requested by a few lovely anons! Did I forget a letter? Let’s hope not. Are these even headcanons cuz they’re so long??? These were tricky, I’m sorry if they kinda suck, it took me a hot minute into last night to complete them. Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.🖤

A : Aftercare. (What he’s like after sex).

John has a heart of gold, despite his enthralling profession. Many think John can be stoic, cold, reserved, but you; you know John. After sex, John makes sure to keep you close, asking over and over to make sure you’re alright. He’d never hurt you, even if during the deed. For a moment, he rests his forehead against yours as you’ve both came together, eyes closed as he catches his breath, cock still buried deep in you. He relishes in the afterglow, your head on his chest as he holds you, bulky arms wrapped around your figure, every now and then he presses a kiss to your hair, sighing deep relief; contentment. Sometimes, you’ll lay there together, skin sticking from the heat, relaxing in the moment. John will pepper kisses over your temples, your cheeks, your hands, your wrists. Being quiet and reserved, it’s his way of letting you know how much he loves you, and how lucky he feels to be able to make love to you. Normally, he prefers being the big spoon after sex. But, he is human. Sometimes, he likes being held by you; finds it really cute when you try to wrap your much smaller limbs to his much larger body. If he’s been away for a while, he loves pillow talk, lost in the company of just him, and the woman he loves.

B : Body Part. (His favourite body part of yours).

John is a simple man. He adores each part of you, to him, you are the embodiment of perfect. If he had to choose, however, he loves your breasts. They provide a safe haven for him to nestle his head in during sex, especially if its missionary. When you’re on top, it turns him on immensely to see them bounce up and down, so full, so plump, swollen from pleasure. John loves hugging you from behind, whether it be in the morning in front of the washroom mirror as you’re just waking up, or as you’re getting dressed on the edge of your bed after some hot and passionate sex. Occasionally, he’ll trail his hands up, palms and fingers working your breasts, fondling, massaging as delicate kisses place themselves on your neck from his sultry lips. Of course, when he’s spoon fucking you, or has you bent over as he slams in from behind, he loves to reach forward and hold your breasts.

C : Cum.

John has a lot of cum, can you even be surprised though? You feel dirty admitting it, but you love his cum. It’s the most intimate form of him, and its reserved only for you. It’s quality seed as well; thick, succulent, creamy, perfectly glossed. It’s not a bad taste at all; a delicacy to your lips if you will. John has almost a primal need for his cum to be inside you when he finishes; he feels it where it belongs. Whether it be brimmed deep inside your cunt, or in your mouth after you’ve gone down on him. He’s never actually admitted it due to his slight shyness, but he loves when you swallow for him. Pulls his heart seams to know you love and trust him enough to do it. Part of the reason you’re on birth control is so he can come inside, you know how much he enjoys it, and how much he appreciates to feel all of you, without the barrier of a condom. The feeling, his orgasm hitting him as with the force of night to day, you tighten around him, feeling him spill inside you; it’s pure nirvana for him. Coming inside you makes him feel closer to you; something he always craves.

D : Dirty Secret.

John is away often, but that doesn’t mean your sex life dies for the time he’s away. John and you always want one another, crave each other. You take pictures for John often, some suggestive; his favourite black, lacy lingerie embellished on your satin skin, allowing little to his imagination, and some full and frontal nudes. You love to hear the way his breath hitches over the phone as you hit send, the way his raspy voice compliments you.

 “Beautiful, sweetheart. So beautiful,” his coarse, yet velvety voice whispers, hand pulling out his girthy cock, that has already started to throb for you, from thousands of miles away.

What you don’t know though – John keeps each and every picture of you in an album on his phone, locked away where no one can find it, but him. He only does it because he knows you wont mind, those pictures are all for him, and you best believe he’s going to savour each and every one for as long as he can. They come in handy when he’s away and needs you; he can’t get off to anything else since but the thought of your heavenly body. You assume they just disappear in conversation overtime, so you take more for him, constantly replenishing his feed ;)

E : Experience.

John is experienced, in the sense that he certainly knows what he’s doing. He hasn’t slept with many people, his work made it tough, his attention and focus constantly diverted to it. You’ve been with John for many years now, but he is on the older side still. John has had a few flings over the course of his life, however, they never really meant much. With the very few times he has been with someone, it was merely because he needed someone to give him sweet, sweet relief. But when he met you, it all changed. With you, his experience comes in handy, because he always puts your needs before his. He pays close attention to what you want, always making sure to communicate.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” His hand moves to securely hold yours, letting you know he’s listening. “Harder, baby?”

John can effortlessly bring you to multiple orgasms during a session. His sturdy fingers, his veiny cock, his suave mouth, he knows how to use each tool to the best of it’s ability, for you. Of course, he’s willing to try anything new for you as well. You want to try a new position? He’s on it. Want him to pay attention to a certain part of your body? He’s already there.

F : Favourite Position.

Definitely depends on the mood, but he is simple and doesn’t try to be too adventurous. Normally, John prefers good old missionary. He likes the intimacy, holding onto your hips with your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close. His lips have easy access to litter slow, passionate kisses to your face, your neck, your chest as he pleases. However, John also appreciates a good ol riding as well from his baby, especially after a demanding job. During riding sessions, he indulges in you; being able to sit back and relax, your aching cunt bobbing up and down on him, your walls tightening around him, so perfectly soaked. The way he’s able to buck his hips up into you, to feel you deeper, the way he can hold you to his chest as you ride him, allowing him to speed up when he needs. 

The sounds you let out drive him insane. Did I mention, he loves watching himself slip in and out of you, the way your glistening releases coat his thighs, slicking his pulsing cock. Sometimes, he likes taking you from behind, he enjoys the gorgeous view of your peachy ass for him, and the way you whimper when his balls slap into your skin, the sounds so delicious filling his ears. Doggy style is also a close favourite of his, more for days when you both crave a good, rough fuck that’ll clear any trace of stress.

He enjoys a good against the wall fuck as well, in the shower is always nice. There have been a few times, he’s came home, neither of you able to control as he pins you against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist with his cock pounding you into oblivion.

G : Goofy. (Is he serious in the act or goofy?)

John isn’t too too goofy in the moment, but he can be on some days. Although he finds sex to be a very intimate, serious act, he can’t help but giggle at how adorable you can get during foreplay. You make him smile, laugh, feel loved, valued. You make him happy, and that comes out during sex as well. He sees you smile, and he’s gone. It’s his favourite thing in the world. If something happens in the moment, such as your face turning red from a particularly loud and explicit moan, he can’t help but smile, giggling with you.

On days when he’s tired and just needs to feel you, he can be a bit more serious. You don’t mind though; on days such as those, you focus your entire attention on making him feel good anyway, you know he deserves it. In turn, John tries incredibly hard to make you come as many times as possible on those days as well, it gives him relief and makes him feel better to know his lady is being treated well, leaving little room for giggles and laughs in those sessions.

H : Hair.

John used to not care before he met you, but now, he makes sure to keep himself tame and trimmed for you. The mans beard is always on fleek, you best believe the same follows down under. He does keep his hair; he’s never been one for being clean shaven. You love going down on him, tasting him in your mouth. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so he makes sure to keep clean for you. It is a bit bushy, but he’s consistent with grooming.

I : Intimacy.

Sex is John’s way of showing you how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him. John hasn’t been with many women; he’s never really had time for sex before you. But now, now that you’re together, in love, sex is what keeps your love fresh, alive, keeps you close and vulnerable with each other. He takes his time with you, making sure to appreciate each part of you, and the alter that is your body. He’s tender, gentle, he loves to feed your self confidence.

He loves kissing you during the act, lips smothering you as his cock slips in and out leisurely. While he’s thrusting is usually when his lips leak with praise for you, how good you feel, how much he loves you.

“Fuck, Y/N…” your name glides off his tongue, smooth as honey. “You…you feel amazing, sweetheart.” He whimpers, cock grinding your G spot each time he thrusts. “So good, baby.”

Even when he’s pounding into you, thrusts hasty, profound; he’ll still make sure to hold you tight, whether it be your hips or your hand. Anywhere from eye contact, to forehead touching, to the cuddle sessions after - John likes to let you know that he’s there with you in the moment; there for you, as he’ll always be.

Till his last breath.

J : Jack off.

Only when he’s away from you. When you’re together, he doesn’t need anything but you to make him feel good. But his work calls for it, and you know there’s times where you need to be away from him. Of course, he loves to have you on the phone for him as he sits in the Continental hotel room, a completed job behind. His palm sloppily wraps around his base, pumping slow, thumb swirling his tip as precum seeps out to the sound of your voice.

“Are you touching yourself, John?” You purr, your own hand trailing suggestively close to your heating center. A mere moan escapes his lips, the sound of your voice enough to make him feel bliss. Twitching, shuddering, he throbs in his hand, movements picking up as he strokes, base to shaft, to tip, pumping, with images of you clouding his mind.

“I want you to come for me, John. Let it out, baby. Let me hear you.” You encourage, hearing his moans, gasps and grunts over the much too distant phone line.

K : Kinks.

John is calm and collected, yet still a little shy. You adore that about him, the way his gentle personality shies away from fully letting you know what he wants sometimes. Over the course of your relationship however, you’ve learned some of his preferred kinks, and you love using them on him, on days you lounge together and have time to really get down and dirty.

Due to his profession, John takes control too much in other aspects of his life. In bed, on days where you want to focus on making him feel good, John relishes in being submissive. He loves to let you take control of him, allow you to do what you please with him. It makes him feel vulnerable, helps him feel human to be at your mercy. He loves you, trusts you enough to let you have him this way. He’s into light bondage, he likes having his wrists restrained, although nothing too insane. He is a simple man after all. Marking is a huge turn on for him, he loves leaving hickies on your silky skin, your collarbones, loves having them on him in turn. He loves body worship, appreciating each inch of you as he trails his kisses down your breasts, your chest, your stomach, slowly inching down to the ache between your legs.

Although John isn’t huge on praise kink, you do like the way he blushes ever so slightly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel.

“John…” You moan, fingernails digging into his back. “You’re fucking me so…” Whimpering, you whine softly in his ear. “So good, Jonathan…don’t stop baby, please…” He picks up pace, husky tone letting out small, soft moans as he slips in and out, fueled by your praise.

L : Location.

John and you have a mission; to have sex in each part of your home. Although his favourite is your bed, it’s safe, familiar, allows you both to be free and active as can. A close second is the couch, usually because the couch means you’re on top of him, spread on his thighs as he thrust up into you, hugging your body close. Hot seat position sex is easier on the couch as well. Anywhere in your house is John’s preferred place, in the comfort of where you live in peace together, the gateway to the dream that is your connection. He’s had you in the shower, in all the rooms, even on the hood of his car in your garage. 

The kitchen counter has been one of John’s favourites, assuming how often he has you whimpering for him on it. Fucking into you with your body propped on the counter? He’s a sucker for it. Being tall enough to reach your cunt standing, he props your leg against his torso and shoulder, holding it for support as your other wraps around his waist, watching himself glide in and out of you. it’s always rough on the kitchen counter, but you like it that way. He makes breakfast right after, returning the favour for letting him get one in before the start of the day. 

M : Motivation. (What gets him going?)

John is always turned on by you, you never have to try to get him to want you. Perhaps that’s just how deep you both are smitten with each other. He loves when you wear lingerie for him, it gets him tenting in his pants, his cock rising to the mere sight of you embroidered in lace for him. Lingerie shopping with John is always tricky due to it, he’ll have his hands roaming each crevice of your body in the dressing room, lips leaving delicate, quiet kisses along the skimpy lace adorned on your breasts. Of course, he’s no help in choosing a piece. Everything is perfect on you through his eyes.

He has a sensitive neck and ears, so he loves when you whisper for him, in your oh so sensual voice, smooth and sugary.

He loves celebrating with you after a successful contract. What better way to wind down than buried deep inside your cunt, warm, wet, as if perfectly moulded for him. Sometimes, that’s what gets him through work. Knowing that soon, he’ll be in your arms, where you’ll make him feel so, so good.

N : No. (What he won’t do)

John would never, ever hurt you, even if you asked. With all the violence, the murder that lies on his fingertips, he feels guilt. He tries not to, but he feels guilt. You love him endlessly, and you know he fears causing you even the smallest amount of pain during sex. If you wince a bit too loud, he’ll immediately pause and ask if you’re okay. Even if its simply the bulk of his sizable cock making you feel pain when he first enters, he gets concerned, always holding off until you’re adjusted to him, nodding when you’re ready for him to move.

You have a fantasy of John face fucking you, his twitching length jammed inside your throat, lapping as much as you can with your cheeks hallowed. You know it would be pure bliss for him, they way you’d choke on his cock for him, allowing him to savour each inch of your wet, warm, tight mouth. John is still a bit scared, however. He almost doesn’t trust himself; he fears he’ll hurt you.

You’ll get there someday, though. As long as you keep proving to him that you trust him.

More than anyone, anything else in the word.

O : Oral.

Oral is one of John���s favourite parts of sex. He loves going down on you, and love’s having you go down on him. John is crazy good at eating you out, he has had tons of practice with you. The way you moan for him, fingers tangling his hair turns him on like crazy, it’s addicting. The mere sound of you, writhing, whimpering as he laps your nectar, tongue expertly flicking your folds, your clit, hands graciously soothing your thighs, your breasts; he thrives off all of it. You love the sound of his mouth eating you out as well, the slicking, the smacking, the wetness of two of his stocky fingers pumping you, the way you know they’re the sounds of him making you feel good. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, alternating between the perfect symphony of fast and slow licks, making sure to dot a few kisses to your center through the process.

Head from John is a dream. A sweet, sweet, beautiful dream; only you have the pleasure to drift in.

P : Pace.

John is a master of pace, another attribute that comes in handy from his work. He knows exactly what pace to use for exactly the type of fuck you’re going for. During proper sex, where you both can take your time, he’ll always start off close and sensual as you get used to each other. His generous length is thick, heavy, and always needs time to get used to as mentioned. Slow at first allows him to focus his attention on kissing you passionately as he glides his dick in and out, feeling each other close. Gradually, he’s unable to hold himself back. Not when your pussy feels so heavenly around him. He’ll get faster and faster, until the bed frame is creaking and the wall behind is being pounded into-much like you. John has the power to shake your entire body with his thrusts, always keeping sure to hold you secure. Often, John leaves you aching for hours later, sometimes into the next day.

Q : Quickie.

A good quickie is always delightful for the both of you. You crave each other so much, that quickies inevitably find their way into your daily lives together as you coexist. In the morning as you’re just waking up? John never says no to a good ol quick morning fuck in your bed, your soft morning voice moans causing his heart to flutter. At breakfast on the kitchen table? John wasn’t able to resist when you wore just his oversized shirt and a pair of panties. Sometimes a good ol quickie before bed helps him sleep better, and you never deny him when he asks for one. John can have trouble sleeping sometimes, so sex before bed helps him relax, wind down, and most of all,

feel good. Something he deserves. 

R : Risk.

John is okay with taking risks, if you want to. He’s always looking for new ways to satisfy you in bed. If you want to try something new, he’ll always say yes for you. He trusts you, and you trust him, so experimenting can be nice sometimes. Sometimes, there have been instances where either he, or you don’t end up liking it, and it makes him a little upset. He doesn’t want to let you down.

You try out new positions all the time, the most recent being The Wheelbarrow. He loved it, the way your hands planted on the floor as he raised your hips to his cock, pounding, pelting into you from behind; your legs wrapped around him.

John likes thrill too, sometimes. He fantasizes about public sex, perhaps in the washroom of a restaurant or something, somewhere where the stakes are higher and you could get caught. He’d be extra cautious, of course. He’d never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

S : Stamina.

John can last decently long, long enough to make you cum. If it’s been a few weeks away from each other, and you haven’t been able to have sex in a while, his stamina increases and he can go for more rounds. There have been times where you’ve had to tap out on him as well, but he’s alright with it. He respects you way too much to make you give him sex when you don’t want to. On average, John can go for 2 rounds if you want him to, although most of the time, one is enough. John is the embodiment of quality over quantity; he fucks you so good, so well the first round, that you’re too sore for another, you’ve been completely satisfied.

“You got another one in you for me, princess?” John chuckles, your breathless body under him, coming down from your high with him still nestled between your legs. You look at him in disbelief almost, wincing when he removes his cock out of you, collapsing on the bed beside.

“Another one already?” You breath, running a hand over your sweaty forehead.

He softly smiles, leaning over to kiss your shoulder, his hand moving to lightly rub a few circles to your clit, building your anticipation again. “Give me a few minutes, sweetheart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

T : Toys.

He has no problem incorporating toys into the bedroom. Neither of you need them, but they do add some spice to your sex life. John isn’t too much of a tech guy, but he did spend hours on his laptop searching up the best vibrators to try out for you. John gets off seeing you get off, and pleasing you. Sometimes, he’ll use the vibrator on you before sex, allowing you to delve into oblivion. On nights when he’s away, he loves when you send him pictures of you using it on yourself; his cock wheezes to the sight of your dripping cunt at the mercy of a vibrator, knowing it makes you feel no where near as good as he does when he’s home. John is willing to try out more toys, and he’s open to the idea of you buying some for him as well. You mentioned a vibrating cock ring to him; (not that he needs it for the extra support), but more for the pleasure the vibrations could give to your sensitive nub and his balls when he’s fucking you. There’s a lot you want to explore with John, you want to find out what he’s into, what he may be fond of. He’s a tricky man to get a feel of since he’s always so focused on you.

U : Unfair.

“John…John please..” You wail, feeling him sink just his tip into you, before pulling back out, teasing. He smirks slightly, placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, teasing to not even give you a proper kiss when all you want is for him to fuck you senseless. His fingers rub small circles to your clit, eliciting deep moans, yet he makes sure to keep them slow, light, enough to let you feel him on you, but not enough to let you feel relief.

You love edging each other, love building up each other’s orgasm to maximum potential. When you’re on top, you’ll halt movement, your hands planted to his chest as his palms hold your hips tight. He’s always panting under you, biting his lip with breathy moans falling as you start to move again.

He’ll tease you when he’s going down on you as well, leaving kisses to the insides of your thighs, close to your heat. You totally get him back, though, the way you wear very revealing shorts around the house the next day, making sure to bend over a little further when you reach down to pick a towel off the floor.

V : Volume. (Is he loud?)

You both can be loud, depending on the type of sex. If it’s just a quickie before bed, you both tend to stay a little quieter, reverting to small whispers of praise, soft, gentle moans into each other’s necks and ears. John’s voice is smooth, buttery, fine as velvet when he’s trying to be quiet, it makes your pussy quite literally tremble knowing you’re the reason those delicious, delightful sounds are leaving his lips.

When you’re having a proper, longer session of sex however, you both tend to get slightly louder than you mean to. You live alone together, in a reserved neighbourhood. John’s grunts and groans can get excessive when you clench around him, your screams of his name flood the bedroom walls when he’s expertly working you. Sometimes, with John, its far too difficult to hold back your cries and sobs, his balls slapping your core to his demanding pace, his breath tantalizing on your skin. Perfectly, he hits your sensitive nerve endings each time, your eyes fill with tears at how well he’s fucking you, loud gasps to each buck of his hips.

W : Wildcard. (Random headcanon).

John has needs – he has to masturbate when he’s away from you, but only to the thought of you, and the nudes you send him. They’re marvellous, but he wants more. John wants to record you having sex at least once for when he’s away. He misses you dearly, although the lonesome comfort of his stocky palm, coated with the blend of shea hand cream he carries with him show no comparison to your soaking cunt. A video of you unravelling for him will definitely elevate his lonely nights spent away from you in the hotel walls. He would never do it without your consent, so he’s made a mental note to ask you next time you get intimate. Phone sex with you is nice, and it gets home going so well. But the thought of the real deal, a video in which your moans can be heard, your beautiful pussy on display for him, would be divine.

X : Xray. (What’s going on in the pants)

John has a very generous load to offer. His cock is quite literally- fucking gorgeous. When you first saw it, your breath hitched. He’s above average, makes you swallow in anticipation when he’s fully erect for you. He has the perfect amount of girth, a few striking veins running down his shaft, and a very slight curve. His tip shows a blushy, rosy shade of dusty pink, and you can’t help but elicit a moan when droplets of his gleaming pre cum glide down the length of his cock, almost as if a delicacy made just for you to devour. John’s cock is the only to ever had made you feel completely full, completely fulfilled. Struck gold? Definitely.

In more ways than just one.

Y : Yearning.

John has a pretty high sex drive. He’ll never deny you, that’s for sure. You almost never deny him either, whether it’s when he’s tossing and turning in the middle of the night and you offer him a quick session to calm his nerves, or whether it’s in the middle of the day, when he craves to feel your body close. John would like to have sex every single day of the week, but he knows that’s not always what you want, and he respects that. You settle for 4-5 times a week, right in the middle so his needs are taken care of. Sometimes, when you’re not in the mood for sex, you’ll give him a blowjob because you want him to feel good.

That’s your man, and you know how to take care of him.

Although he would like to have sex everyday, he doesn’t ever resort to masturbating unless he’s away. If you’re there, he wants it from you, or not at all. He’d rather wait for you than whip one out alone, without the feel of your body to compliment it.

Z : Zzzz. (How quickly he falls asleep after).

John and you both need a good round of cuddling, just holding each other after sex to doze off. A good cuddle session is part of sex for you; it’s part of the aftercare, part of the intimacy. Value is so important in a relationship, and holding each other, even if it’s just him holding onto your hand on his chest as you lie in comfortable silence, coming down from your highs; it all allows you both to feel valued, appreciated. You both share a little bit of pillow talk, and get cleaned up before you can actually fall asleep. John is a well organized, clean man. He helps you wipe down, change, shower, whatever you need to do before you both retire to bed, your skin freshly peppered with the scent of the eucalyptus shower gel you always buy. He can fall asleep pretty quickly after that, nice and relaxed, gratified and content with the love of his life tucked securely in his arms. He loves it when you hold him and use his chest as a pillow, takes him out like a light to know you’re safe there with him. The clothes you ripped off each other before sex are still scattered on the floor.

“John?” You quietly whisper, arms wrapped around his core, his biceps holding you close to his chest. He stirs slightly, half dozed off already.

“Hmm?” He murmurs, ever so slightly, eyes closed with his heartbeat steady against your ear.

Giggling, you softly plant a gentle kiss to his chest, allowing your head back to rest on him. “Goodnight, I love you.” You whisper into the quiet of the night, sure he’d already drifted to dreamland. He doesn’t reply, until a few seconds later, his deep voice drifting,

in and out of consciousness.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Taglist Posted Seperatly (Ask to be added or removed!)

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 1

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  2188

Rating:  E

Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - Widow’s Bite

Warnings: none for this chapter, there will be smut and canon typical violence, etc for the series

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 1

Bucky sat cross-legged on the floor of Clint’s apartment fiddling with Natasha’s widow bites.  They'd malfunctioned while they were out chasing down some creeps trying to hold up a bank using stolen alien tech and now parts of them were spread out on the stained Ikea coffee table along with his machine gun, Clint’s bow, a handful of arrows, and some throwing knives.  Bucky had already been zapped three times, and at this point, he was determined to fix these things just to spite them.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he was zapped once again.  He shook his hand and sucked on his finger.

“Just leave them, James,” Natasha said, as she passed through the room on her way to the fridge. “Stark can fix them.”

“This is way below Stark’s pay grade.  I can do it,” Bucky argued, and like the miniature tasers were trying to spite him right back he got zapped again.  “Fuck!  You little…”

There was a rapping on Clint’s door followed by a snuffling sound and scratching.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” Clint complained, tripping over Steve’s shield and then his own quiver as he made his way to the door.

He pulled the door open to reveal Clint’s one-eyed Labrador mix, a little boy who looked to be about three or four years old, and you.

“Hey, Clint,” you said, cheerily as the little boy chased the dog inside.  “Returning Lucky.  Thanks for letting me take him out.”

“You kidding?”  Clint replied as Steve quickly got to his feet and started picking up weapons and putting them up out of the reach of little hands.  “Did me a favor.  Thanks for taking him with you.”

“Of course, Geo loves him,” you replied.  “Geo, you say thank you to Mister Barton?”

“Dank,” the little boy who seemed to be named Geo said.  “Nad, Nad, Nad…”

Natasha smiled softly.  It was a rare thing to see and it made Bucky feel a little warm on the inside.  A feeling he was still getting used to experiencing.

“What is it, malysh?”  She asked.

Geo then babbled a series of words that seemed to include ‘balloon’, ‘doggy’, ‘fly’, and ‘cake’ but Bucky couldn’t quite follow what he was actually saying.

“Well that all sounds fantastic,” Natasha said, brushing the little boy's hair off his face.  “What a wonderful day you’ve had.”

He bounced on his toes and kissed her cheek before running off toward Bucky.

“Geo, honey,” you said in that patient voice that some parents couldn’t seem to be able to perfect.  “We need to go,” you said taking a step into the room.  “Sorry, Clint.”

“Mama, but dis,” Geo complained, coming over to Bucky and patting his arm.

“No, honey, they’re doing work,” you said, as Geo caressed the metal plates on Bucky’s prosthetic arm.

“Whad dis?”  Geo said, looking up at Bucky.

“Oh my god,” you said, sounding mortified as Clint stifled a laugh.  “I’m so sorry, Sergeant… Barnes?”  You said his name like a question, confirming his identity.

Bucky shook his head.  “It’s fine,” he said to you and turned his attention back to Geo.  “That’s my arm.”

“Is a robod arm?”  Geo asked.

“Yeah, it’s a robot arm,” Bucky answered.

Clint laughed and closed the door behind you.  “You might as well get comfortable.  This is gonna be a while.”

“You’re sure?”  You asked, “You look busy.”

“Nah, Bucky’s just trying to fix something he can’t fix,” Clint said.  “You want a drink?”

“A beer would be amazing,” you said and took a seat on the couch.

“You fix fing?”  Geo asked.

“Yeah, that’s right.  I’m fixing these?”  Bucky said, showing the little boy the Widow Bites.  Steve gave Bucky a look that was slightly disapproving but he didn’t actually say anything.  Bucky wasn’t sure he was good with kids.  He always felt a little awkward, like he was going to say or do the wrong thing.  He did like kids though.  They didn’t know what he was and they were true to their emotions.  If they didn’t like you, you knew right away.  Maybe showing the Widow Bites to a toddler was a terrible thing to do, but he seemed interested and you didn’t say anything, so Bucky figured he can’t have done anything too bad.

Clint handed you a beer and introduced you to everyone as Geo looked at all the pieces of the Widow Bites carefully like he really understood what was going on with them.  “They rent the place two floors below this one,” Clint explained.

“Geo loves Lucky, so Clint lets us take him to the park when we go and he doubles as my guard dog,” you added.

“So what is it you do?”  Steve asked.

“Oh, this and that,” you said, cryptically.  “I sometimes do shifts at a coffee place down the street.  I babysit.  I do some temp work here and there.”

“That must be difficult,” Steve said.

“I make do,” you said.  “Geo’s dad died and I do what I have to to get by.”

Steve frowned.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You shrugged.  “Thank you, I’m sure you understand loss.  Given… everything.”

“Dis go dare,” Geo said, pointing at one of the wires and moving his finger to a circuit board.

“Yeah?  I dunno, buddy,” Bucky said, not sure how to tell a toddler that he could just randomly solder pieces of a weapon together.

“Goes dare,” he insisted, climbing into Bucky’s lap.

“You might as well just do it,” Natasha teased as she lounged back on the recliner.  “It’s not like he’ll make it worse.”

“Alright,” Bucky said.  “You keep your hands back okay?”

“Otay,” Geo said, putting one hand on each of Bucky’s arms.  Bucky carefully soldered the wire into place and powered the tasers on.  They started up fine and when he gave the to Natasha and she tested them out they seemed to work fine.  Bucky looked from you to Geo and back at Natasha with the tasers.

“Did … did you just fix them, pal?”  He asked.

“Uhh… he… kinda has a knack for things like that,” you said, putting your drink down.  “Hey, Geo, maybe we should go.”

The way you reacted reminded Bucky of a prey animal who’d realized they’d just gotten themselves cornered. Your eyes flicked to the exits and back to your son.  “Hey,” Steve said, gently.  That commanding but soothing tone coming to him instinctively.  “You’re alright.  You’re safe here with us.”

“Yeah, hon,” Clint agreed.  “If you can’t trust Captain America, who can you trust?”

You seemed to relax back in the chair and Geo climbed off Bucky’s lap and toddled over to where Lucky was lying and lay down against him.  Steve looked at the little boy and then at you.  “If you need to talk to anyone… or you need any help.”

You shook your head.  “It’s… fine.  I’ve been dealing with it.”

“Dealing with what exactly?”  Steve asked.

“You ever read the book ‘Firestarter’?  Or see the movie?  The movie had Drew Barrymore in it?”  When Steve’s blank look never changed.  “No, of course not.  Why would you?  Anyway, it’s like that.  And … well, less attention the better.  So thank you, but I’m fine.”

Steve looked you over and gave a nod.  “If you ever change your mind…”

“I know where you are.  And I appreciate the offer,” you stood up and threw your beer bottle into Clint and Natasha’s recycling bin.  “I better take him back home.  He’s gonna pass out.”

Bucky looked back over at Geo who now had his eyes closed and was curled into Lucky’s side.  You picked up the little boy and he snuggled into your neck and opened and closed his hands on your back.  “Thanks again, Clint.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Clint said getting up and opening the door for you.  “He likes going out with you.”

“I’ll see you,” you said and hurried out of the room.

“Way to go,” Natasha teased.  “You scared away our only normal friend.”

“What did she mean by the Firestarter thing?”  Bucky asked.

“See, that’s new,” Clint said, flopping down on the couch. “I just knew she was a widow.  Firestarter is a story about this couple that goes through a bunch of medical testing at college and then they have a kid who can light fires with her mind.  And the people who did the testing on them start chasing them around the country to get the kid.”

Steve stiffened up and pulled out his phone. “You didn’t know she was on the run?”

Clint shook his head.  “Just a widow with a kid.  I have heaps of single mom tenants.”

“Clint likes to offer them cheap rent and then they’re so grateful they sleep with him,” Natasha explained.

“Hey now!”  Clint spluttered.  “Don’t make me sound like an asshole.  I offer them cheap rent ‘cause they are usually getting back on their feet.  Plus they’re often divorcees and they feel safer in the building two Avengers live in.  Can’t help it if some of them start hanging around and making me food and then one thing leads to another.”

“Maybe I should do some checking up on that,” Steve said.  “If she’s in trouble, we can’t just ignore it.”

“She obviously doesn’t want to be noticed, maybe you should just leave it alone,” Natasha said.

“We’re authority figures.  I can understand why she might not trust that we can help,” Steve said.  “But you and I both know we can.”

“Fine!” Natasha said, holding up her hands in defeat.  “Do what you like.”

“Did you really sleep with her?”  Bucky asked, getting up off the floor and moving to the recliner as Steve tapped around on his phone.

“Her?  No.  Just something that’s happened a few times with other tenants.  Nothing planned,” Clint explained.  “She’s cute though, right.”

Clint wasn’t wrong.  Bucky did think you were attractive.  You seemed nice too, the fact you trusted Geo with him meant a lot to him and the way you didn’t make a huge deal about Steve.  A lot of women always made a huge deal of Steve.  Not that Bucky could blame them for that too.  He’d been harboring a crush on Steve that stretched way back before most women even looked twice at Steve.

“You’re really okay with that, Tasha?”  Bucky asked.  Natasha and Clint didn’t exactly have a conventional relationship.  It wasn’t really one he was used to seeing but they seemed happy.  He kept expecting jealousy to rear up but they just spoke about how they each slept with other people like it was no big deal at all.

“Yeah, of course,” Natasha said.  “Gotta let go of the idea monogamy is the only possible happily ever after, James.  Some people find happiness alone and in themselves, some find it in the beds of strangers, some with one loving partner.  And some with multiple.”

“And some people like to shack up with their best friend and get up to all kinds of shenanigans,” Clint added, moving from the couch to the recliner with Natasha and curling up with her.

“Find what it is that makes you happy,” Natasha concluded.  “Besides sleeping with one person for the rest of my life-” She mimed yawning and Clint laughed and snuggled into her more.

“If only…” Bucky muttered as he looked at Steve.

Steve looked up from his phone puzzled and raised an eyebrow at him.  “What's that, Bucky?”

“Nothing, go back to being a snoop,” Bucky grumbled, once again ignoring the clear opportunity to come clean about his feelings.

“You want us to set you up with her, Buck?”  Clint asked.  “She's really fun. She and Geo come up a bunch.  We eat pizza and play videogames or take the dog out.  She's artistic too and snarky.  And Nat even likes her.”

“It's true, I do,” Natasha said.  “She brings us coffee and croissants from the place she works.”

“Then what would she want with me then?” Bucky asked, almost folding in on himself.  Clint gave him a look that both said he understood and that he pitied him and Natasha scowled at him.

“James,” she said.

Bucky knew he had to deflect quickly or he'd get a lecture about being worthy of love, and he was really not in the mood for that.  He quickly waved a hand in Steve’s direction.  “Set her up with Steve.  He's the one worried about her past and she treated him like a normal person.”

“Oh that's a good point,” Clint said, nudging Natasha.

Natasha picked up a cushion and threw it at Steve.  He caught it on reflex and looked up at him. “How about we organize dinner for you and her?” Natasha suggested.  “Then you can try and get her backstory in person in a less aggressive fashion.”

“That's a good idea,” Steve said, completely oblivious that he was being set up on a date.  “Set it up.”

Natasha smirked at Bucky and winked.  Bucky smiled back and hoped that it hid the little flare of jealousy he just felt raise it’s head.

// NEXT

[uwua3]

drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

[charming-mage]

Opposite Day: Contrary Fairy Gives DuPont High Their Worst Nightmare (Part 1)

Hello everyone! Here’s my take on my prompt, Opposite Day (Or DuPont’s Worst Nightmare). Does anyone even remember I said I would take on this prompt? It’s been such a long time. Ha ha ha. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know.

If anyone takes on this prompt too, the Akuma or any details in this fic doesn’t have to be the same. Go with your vision as you see fit. I don’t mind. 

A student at Dupont is Akumatized into Contrary Fairy. She has the power to turn people into their “Opposite” self by taking a victim’s major personality traits and switches them with an antonym of it.

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

Chapter 1: This is just the beginning

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

Mrs. Bustier’s class awaits in eager anticipation for the arrival of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The only people who haven’t arrived yet is Adrien, Marinette, and Lila. Today is Alya’s birthday and her first friend at Dupont is bringing her a special birthday cake. Even though they’ve had some disagreements about Lila, Marinette is still bringing her a gift. It’s a rough patch, but she knows they’ll get past this bump in the road. Alya privately admits to herself that Marinette gets a bit high strung about Adrien sometimes. In the end, Marinette will get along with Lila like she does with Kagami. 

“Where’s Lila? She’s usually here by now. She promised to tell me about her charity work in Nigeria,” said a concerned Mylene. “Did she have an emergency trip again?”

Alya assures Mylene. “Lila is just running late. She promised to be here today.”

Just as she was mentioned, Lila walks with a nervous look on her face. It quickly changes to a happy smile when she spots Ayla. “Happy Birthday Alya!” Lila quickly jumps Ayla and gives her a strong hug.

“Whoa. You’re really energetic today.” Ayla returns the hug.

“I’m so happy to celebrate with my best friend.”

When Alix grumbles out loud about tricky math problems, Lila excuses herself  to go help her.

Ten minutes later, Marinette walks in with the cake along side.....is that Adrien? Alya thinks the blonde boy in ripped black jeans, black jacket, and a devil horns headband. The classes’ sunshine has become the sunset.

“Good morning Marinette.” Marinette, strangely, ignores her.

Nino asks, shocked, “Dude, you’re finally rebelling against your father?”

“The old man can’t tell me what to do. By the time I’m done today, he won’t stand to have any black in his designs. Not even the buttons.”

“Adrien, count me in.”

Nino grabbed Adrien and they seated themselves in the back of the classroom for a private conversation.

Ayla turns her attention to Marinette, who’s been very chilly to her. Very unlike her. Usually they’d say their good mornings and jump right into gossiping. She has a very bad feeling about this. 

Marinette drops the delicious looking cake into the trashcan next to Mrs. Bustier’s Desk. “Oops,” says a unremorseful Marinette.

Gasps echo in the classroom. Rose asks,” M-Marinette....why would you do that?”

What Marinette says next nearly gives her a heart attack.

“You owe me 500 euros. When you sprung on me to babysit your sisters, they broke my new sewing machine. You’re lucky they didn’t destroy anything else or you would be talking to my celebrity clients’ lawyers.”

“I’m so sorry! I’ll pay you back, I swear. I’ll tell my sisters to be more responsible too.” Ayla is shocked Marinette didn’t say anything yesterday when she came to pick up the twins. It’s become a routine for them. If Alya wants to do anything last minute, she’ll drop off the twins with Marinette. Later, the kids will be picked up and the money dropped off. Marinette is owed a favor as well.

Alya has to tell her parents what happened. She doesn’t have enough money to pay Marinette. The money saved from side jobs is not enough to cover it in full. Her and the twins were all going to be in trouble, but it’ll be worth it to make it right for Marinette. No more last minute babysitting either. Heck, on top of the babysitting money, she’ll do more favors for Marinette in exchange for scheduled babysitting if her bestie is up for it in the future. 

“Good. I expect the money in my hands soon.” Marinette takes her usual seat next to Ayla. It’s kinda awkward since Marinette refuses to speak to her.

The birthday celebration mood is gone. The class is filled with quiet whispers as no one dared to raise their voice too loud. Marinette’s look of displeasure when Rose once made the mistake to happily squeal a bit too high pitched scares the rest of the class to behave.

It gets worse once Mrs. Bustier comes to start the class session. The teacher announces her presence with an angry door slam. The rest of the time is stressful as everyone did their best to avoid drawing Mrs. Bustier’s ire. Once class ended, everyone left in a hurry. 

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

Alya thought the worst was over. She was wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. This is just the beginning. 

The morning classes’ teachers suddenly became strict. Their usual passiveness replaced with a no nonsense attitude. When brave students asked why the sudden strictness, most of the teachers said something along the lines of orders from up top. Rumors circulated there’s going to a school inspection soon.

Strict teachers like Ms. Mendeleiev are their usual selves. The classes where they sit together is painful. Marinette barely talks to her. And when she does, it’s in a passive aggressive manner. 

 Alya is relived when lunch is finally here. She didn’t think she would have made it until lunch without Lila. Her kind friend did her best to cheer her up. Very helpful with group assignments, ran damage control when Alya messed up a few times in a presentation, and gave her useful tips in physics. This kindness must be what others experienced in Lila’s adventures around the world. No wonder her friend has so many famous friends.

Lila was so kind to carry Alya’s lunch to their table. Her girl even paid for her lunch. Her friend insisted it’s the least she could do to repay Ayla for doing the same.

Alya slumps in her seat. Lila is taken by an excited Mylene to her table. “Hey guys, had a rough day too?”

Groans abound at their table.

Nino sighs. “Did you guys hear? There might be an inspection soon and the teachers want everything in order before they get here.”

Alix rolls her eyes. “Yeah, time to cover up the things that’ll make them look bad.”

Kim pouts. “My history teacher told me to quit my dares. I can do them again on Friday.”

“That’s three days from now,” Juleka says slowly.

They chat a bit. Not much excitement besides Mylene getting upset about something and Lila consoling her.

Aurore and Mireille unexpectedly come to their table.  Aurore places a hand on Alya’s shoulder. The weather girl says with concern, “I know you can’t talk about it, but we just wanted to let you know we both support you.”

Alya looks at them confused. “What are you talking about?”

Mireille pipes up. “Your message on the Ladybug.”

Ayla thinks back to her recent posts. Nothing comes to mind that’ll warrant the concern they’re showing. The latest post is just LadyNoir shipping. The post before that talks about the damage her camera received from dropping it. No way the weather girls would approach her over such a trivial matter.

“Oh dear, you don’t know what were talking about?”  Mireille looks concerned. “Alya, you need to check the Ladyblog.”

Ayla quickly digs through her bag. She’s unable to find her phone. “I can’t find my phone.”

Aurore hands over her phone. “Here, I already have it open.”

Alya gets the second heart attack today.

Dear Ladyblog fans,

I’m sad to say due to legal issues I’m taking down the blog soon. Certain posts contained false information. I’ve already deleted the mentioned posts. I didn’t do my due diligance in fact checking. I should’ve provided sources. For that, I’m so sorry.

- Ladyblogger out (for the final time)

Alya mind-numbingly taps the Ladyblog’s home page. It refreshes to a ‘sorry the website you’re looking for is deleted’ page.

Nino peaks over her shoulder. “Oh god, Alya......” Their reactions gets everyone else huddled over the phone. Gasps ring out.

“Guys, I didn’t write that message. Or take down the Ladyblog.” 

Nathaniel asks, “Then who did?”

Doesn’t take Ayla long to figure it out. “Whoever stole my phone did.” Her phone was already logged into the Ladyblog’s admin page. She puts her heartbreak on hold to solve the mystery. “I need to do some investigating.”

“We’ll help you,” says Aurore. Mireille nods with a look of determination.”

“Me too!”

“Don’t worry! We’ll get justice.”

“I’m with you Alya.”

Alya tears up a bit, touched. “Thanks everyone.”

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

They’ve spent half of lunch interviewing students. They have a lead. One girl in Ayla’s last class before lunch said she saw Marinette borrow the mentioned phone. Although the girl didn’t see if Marinette put it back. After some more asking around, Marinette was last seen in the student council room. 

“-and that concludes our council of evil meeting.”

Marinette’s face forms a grimace when she catches sight of them. “What are you doing here?”

Alya is taken aback. “Girl, I know it was super expensive, but I think you’re taking it too far.”

The student council members snicker.

“Oh my god, are these the gullible morons?” This comment opens the floodgate.

“I’m best friends with the tooth fairy. I can tell you all about on your tabloi-I mean credible blog.”

“I’m secretly Rena Rouge. Want an Autograph?”

“I can hook you up with Stan Lee. Even though he’s dead.”

“I’m the president of the United States. I’m doing this council stuff for fun.”

“I’m Adrien’s secret girlfriend. So secret even he doesn’t know.”

“HEY! I’m just here to ask Marinette something.” Alya looks right at Marinette’s blank face. “You’re the last person seen with my phone. Did you see anyone suspicious near it when you were done with it?”

The student council erupts into laughter. Once Marinette stops laughing she answers, “Oh my, you didn’t figure it out yet? I deleted your blog.”

“W-What?” The revelation startles Alya. The everyday Ladybug never made it to the suspect list. Not even the top ten.

Alya mind is well rested now. The pieces are coming together. This morning’s strangeness, Marinette’s hostility increasing throughout the day, and the teachers sudden 180.

“An Akuma got you. All of you.” The Marinette she knows would never be so cruel.

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “No, I just stopped keeping in what’s bothering me. Besides, I didn’t see an Akuma today.” Various student council members pipe in the same. No one else saw an Akuma.

“So either an Akuma snipped all of you or none of you remember.”

“Look tabloid reporter, I would have noticed if Hawkmoth’s latest fashion disaster was here.” Marinette waves them away. “Shoo pests, unlike some people, we have a lot of work to get done. The school dance won’t magically appear itself.”

“Don’t worry Mari,  I’ll get help. You’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Come on guys, we need to let the teachers know an Akuma is here.” 

“Let’s try Ms. Mendeleiev. She seems her usual strict self.”

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

“Thanks for following my lead everyone. Glad we don’t have to waste time fending them off if they discovered we already knew about the Akuma.”

“No problem President Marinette.”

“That’s Queen Marinette to you peasants.”

“Yes, your most evilness.”

“Aren’t we going to stop them? They know about the Akuma now?”

“There’s a plan in place. It’s been several hours and no one has ‘seen’ an Akuma running around. Why do you think that is?”

“You think of everything Queen Marinette.”

“Of course I do. One of you tell our ally Contrary Fairy the Akuma class knows now. They may be stupid, but they have been competent help to Ladybug before.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Don’t forget to tell her to get Ms. Mendeleiev ASAP. The only competent teacher in this school might believe them.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Let’s have some fun before Ladybug spoils it.”

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

To be continued in Opposite Day: Contrary Fairy Gives DuPont High Their Worst Nightmare (Part 2)

Chapter 2: There’s No Akuma in Dupont

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

Lila will be featured more in part 2.

I sprinkled in some salt tropes. I find it funny they work so well for Chloe 2.0.

@andromeda612 @whatsupwithjinx

[juuls]

Pharmacist/Me = 1 🏆 Doctor/Nursing Staff = 0

Thank you in advance for reading this rant. I’ve been really frustrated and just needed to get this off my chest, and today at least I had a wonderful knight in a white lab coat. 🩺❤️‍🩹🥽🥼💪🏻

Content warnings and squicky squicks: (further down there is) an image of a medical vial with a clipped image of a more benign part of a syringe, health conditions (endometriosis, fibromyalgia), menstrual cycles and associated terms such as bleeding and other things, lack of empathy in my specific healthcare system, hysterectomies, pain, swearing and losing patience. Most important warning: self-administered syringes and injection discussions of legal medications (Depo-Provera) approved of by professionals and properly researched. P.S. this may sound rather Karen-like but I would never do this to someone’s face. Online ranting and acknowledging where I could do better is not the same as screaming in public for bossy requests or comps, etc. Ew.

Another ‘warning’… pharmacists being kick-ass allies and giving a damn about their patients.

I’m really annoyed because (and I know healthcare and scheduling is a clusterfuck right now, but…) for over a month now I’ve been trying to get an appointment in person to get this injectable medication that is, yes, birth control, but is also used for endometriosis in my case. And I have severe endometriosis (exacerbated severely by fibromyalgia, siiiiigh) to the point I bleed enough and lose so much I have to go to the hospital when my care is not properly preventative… like in this case, and the pain is unbelievably severe also to the point I’ve spent time in the hospital, including my 11th Christmas Eve and Day. I started this injectable medication at 13 because it was the only thing that came close to helping reduce my endometrial tissue. Even a hysterectomy wouldn’t help as much, unless they decided to go the super invasive route and remove all the organs (or parts of them) that had become ‘infected’ by the tissue. Again, tissue where it’s not supposed to be, and it causes extreme pain as the tissue tries to flush out of my body each period, even if it’s attached to, like, my pancreas. Just no. That does not work at all. No. That is not fun.

SO. I’m 31, nearing 32, and the doctor’s office knows this. I’ve had the same doctor since I was 10. Been on this medication nearly non-stop for just shy of two decades (with appropriate precautions such as bone density tests) because of the absolute severity of the pain and my inability to function when it hits… which can be months at a time of non-stop bleeding and morning sickness-level nausea and vomiting, migraines and the occasional complete inability to move—in other words, it’s debilitating.

My doctor (even the nurses, as it’s in large print at the top of my file in the system) knows all about this. They’re supposed to call me if I’m overdue by a certain margin (I get they’re busy but months and months???). But my doc’s also a bit of an airhead (albeit a smart one when he focuses) and takes forever to reply to anything on time, even when it’s a severe issue, but not severe enough to go to the hospital. But it’s gotten to the point where the nurses say to go to the ER and then the ER nurses and doctors there get SUPER pissed off (AT ME AND SOMEHOW NOT AT MY DOCTOR/NURSES AND THEIR ORDERS) at the ‘waste of time’, and it’s just a clusterfuck.

Oh yeah, and that ER visit while I was overdue for my injection? Internal intestinal bleeding along with a lovely, even if small, perforation in my fucking uterus from the growth of endometrial tissue. I MEAN COME ON — WHAT IN THE HELL. Totally preventable if they fit me in when I called literally over a month ago.

But I will not change my doctor (the other docs at the practice know what is going on and have offered to take me on, but they don’t have the experience with myself and my conditions or the history, but they can do little else because of professional conduct—it’s between myself and my doc) because he is the only one who treats me with humanity and understands fibromyalgia, endometriosis, pre-MS and pre-RhA/PsA, endo-related IBS, (ulcerative) colitis, and other neurological conditions with any degree of empathy. (See, I told you I’m a mess!) There is no way I’m switching offices in the perpetual shortage of doctors in Canada moving elsewhere for m o n e y (plus Covid-19 being a teen hooligan and constantly coming back to wreck more goddamn shit, including everyone’s sanity, then setting things on fire like the real hooligans in my village have been doing this summer — I mean… what in the hell!?!?), so with all that in mind I actually thank my lucky stars. So I put up with a lot of this shit because he treats me, besides him being an airhead, like an actual human being deserving of compassion and care and quality of life despite my severe disabilities and pain. So.

I’m usually treated really well (even if they often think I’m a nuisance for daring to be severely chronically ill/in pain all the time) so I try to be patient and good and understanding when I can.

But his STAFF (I know they’re busy and I’ve been patient but they’ve been so awful honestly to the point I cried hard enough my dad noticed my red eyes and frustration-tear fracks on my face)! And the doc himself’s inability to reply to notes on time even when urgent and when he knows the circumstances (I admit I am a bit of a hard patient so I can understand if he just kinda ignores me sometimes, honestly). But in this case I was THREE DAMN MONTHS LATE for my injection and they’ve always called in the past when I was coming due if it looked like I hadn’t scheduled an injection, so that I was all on time and squared away and didn’t risk severe pain and damage to my already-fucked hormonal system (learning I couldn’t have kids was absolutely heartbreaking, let me tell you, but even a hysterectomy in that case would solve nothing — this is by far the easiest option, especially considering how my fibromyalgia would fuck with my post-surgery recovery and leave me with lasting pain for years if not decades; sigh).

Anyway. So. After some ridiculous levels of back and forth and some truly remarkable levels of lack of compassion (she kept giving me the exact same, word for word response in a bored tone UGH) considering the severe pain I was in (I was told, in front of OTHER PATIENTS AND STAFF, that I could just wait until I talk to the doctor myself at my next phone appointment and then schedule my injection for my next MONTHLY followup — 4.5 months overdue at that point, it would’ve been — because, and I quote, ‘am used to dealing with pain because of my fibromyalgia and years of dealing with it and other conditions’ which they named in front of others!!!!!!!! what. the. fuck. But I kept my cool because I know all these people, my mom taught their kids music, they’re a fixture of the community, etc. and I refuse to be a Karen…. At least externally.

But here comes the nice part that makes me love our new (okay, he’s been here like 5 years but still, in a small town that’s pretty new lmao) pharmacist that much more. Rasik was aware of my frustration with the doctor and nurses and was even the one who brought to my attention that, at the time, I was 2 months late for my injection and he was a bit concerned since he’s privy to how much pain I exist in without throwing in one or more knives directly into my womb, ovaries, tummy, hips, and other areas my endometrial tissue has taken root. He’s such a sweetheart and he really does care for his patients— the work he does with my father’s diabetes (the tricky one where you’re not obese) management is above and beyond the call of a pharmacist and I will forever be grateful for that alone, never mind how he cares for me.

So I went in today to pick up another medication, after yet another frustrating stop-over at the nurses’ desks, and he suggested I ask for my injectable medication (it’s Depo-Provera, by the way) and the syringe plus the two tips necessary — I’m actually familiar with this since I had to learn epinephrine injections from an early age (not Epipen) and how to give testosterone daily to my ex-husband (sorry not sorry, dude, but congrats on your first kid *grouchy thumbs up*). But yeah! Legally he’s not allowed to suggest I give it to myself, but he was getting super fed up with the nurses and doctors dragging their feet and ‘being assholes with little empathy’ in his own words, so I took the hint and requested my vial plus syringe, as well as the drawing and injection gauge needles…. which he gleefully filled for me, and I reiterated that it was ‘fully my idea, not yours, Rasik, because everyone knows I’m dumb and would never think it’s you if something happened’ (I’m not dumb and I’ve given injections to others many times looool).

Long story short: HERE’S TO PHARMACISTS AROUND THE WORLD, BEING AMAZING AND CARING FOR THEIR PATIENTS AND ‘BENDING BUT NOT REALLY BENDING’ THE RULES TO MAKE SURE THEIR CLIENTS ARE CARED FOR PROPERLY. They are amazing and deserve every last bit of your courtesy, especially when they pull double duty every. single. day. because of Covid and their subsequent boosters. (i.e. boosters in the form of humans who are fucking stupid if they have no medical reason not to get the vaccine… I mean JFC.)

Rasik? You are amazing and I am 100% going to find you some Indian-Canadian (or North Indian; I believe that’s where he’s from originally) treats or desserts or make some myself after slyly asking his assistant what he leans toward liking.

Be kind to one another, yeah, but… my goodness: be kind to those who can truly make a difference in your health, sanity, and even life or death.

Pharmacists, volunteers, and frontline health workers: the true heroes of these times.

Thank you so much. So very much.

💜💙🇨🇦👨🏽‍⚕️❤️‍🩹🙏🏻

P.S. … now I just gotta stab myself intramuscularly after making sure there’s no air bubbles and etc., and swap out to the proper gauge needle (different, smaller, to draw from the vial, larger to inject so that it goes in more quickly and, oddly enough, hurts less haha). I don’t think air bubbles are as much of an issue as when injecting intravenously (ummm I have a doctor uncle and grandma nurse and nurse friends, so shush 😆). But I’ve done this for others and animals so I should be good! :)

I’m a smart enough cookie even if I’ve lost a few nibble-size pieces around the edges. 😉😘 buahaha

Cheers to my pharmacist!!!! You are amazing and I can’t wait for the pain and months and months of bleeding to settle down.

Remind me again why humans are the only mammals (animals?) with monthly fluxes? UGH wtf ever. 🙃

[hatsukeii]

@justanne Ilysm you know that right

This is the best idea I’ve gotten in a while

Pixel hearts // Kenma Kozume x Reader

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Cursing, but nothing more because this is a crackpot of fluff

Summary: It all started with a pixel heart, and the rest was chaos.

“Dude, hold on, I’ll send you a heart.”

“Waiwaiwait why? Those are way too hard to earn, pudding-chan you don’t have to!”

The class was dead silent, the classroom filled with boredom as students listened to their literature teacher ramble on about some Shakespearean bullshit. Kenma’s classmates paid no mind to the blond as he fiddled away on his switch, earphones in. Literature was boring enough on its own, however it was simply a pain in the ass to have the oldest, most physically crippled teacher on campus teach them. There was no doubt Kenma wouldn’t listen in class. He had other resources that could help him ace this subject like he always did anyway. What mattered more, was his farm that he had spent months building. In order to maintain its pristine condition, he had to water the crops, feed the animals, clean out the stables, furnish the barn, then visit other farms to collect social points, all while fending off critters and monsters from his own. It was quite the hectic schedule for sure, but in the end, it was all worth it.

“Bear-san, take it as a way of me sending my never ending love to you.”

Blushing, you peeked up from your lap, scanning your eyes around the classroom. Almost everyone had their nose in their phones scrolling through social media, texting each other, even watching some... interesting stuff. Your math teacher looked completely uninterested, sitting at her desk as she marked papers, not even sparing a glance at the students. The class was supposed to complete the entire worksheet that was on the projector screen, yet no one seemed to even have something as basic as a pencil in hand. Pressing your earbud deeper into your ear, you gulped down a mouthful of saliva, praying not to be seen with your console under your desk. Seeing the red pixel heart pop up on the screen, your actual heart melted, a dorky smile plastered on your face. Pudding-chan was always a nice person, gifting you with crops and animals, and this time a heart, the hardest known currency to earn in game, accompanied by his flirty way with words.

“Ah, I can already feel the blooming love in my heart, oh dear, please catch me when I fall-”

“What on Earth do you think you’re doing in my math class young (Y/N)?”

Fuck.

Stopping in the middle of your sentence, your heart dropped as you peered up, only to be met with the furious, unrelenting glare of your math teacher. Other students stared, their phones suddenly gone as if they were never using it in the first place. A couple of boys snickered from the next row, earning an irritated look from your extremely annoyed teacher. In your ear, you could hear Pudding-chan’s voice, now laced with concern. You mentally apologised for not being able to respond with your fuming math teacher confiscating your console.  

“Bear-san? Is everything okay?”

All he heard was a yell, before you were disconnected from the discord call. Cold sweat gathering at his temples, he thought of all the worst case scenarios. Were you kidnapped? Did your family take your console away and beat you? Oh shit, were you in an abusive relationship? Crap, were you being arrested? Was he never going to see you online again? Were you leaving him forever? This wasn’t the usual Kenma who was calm, analytical, and collected. You were the only other friend he had apart from Kuroo, there was no way he wasn’t worried out of his mind. The bell rang from the speaker across the classroom, signalling the end of class for students. Shoving the switch back into his bag, he grabbed his phone. Your status on discord now replaced with a grey circle, Kenma sighed in distress. Maybe you were just taking a break from gaming. Wait, that wasn’t a good thing either. Who was he going to game with then? You were the only person that managed to appeal to him in game, if you weren’t there, he’d be all alone in the world of Chubby Cows. He wanted you to stay with him. He knew he only enjoyed this dumb game because he was only able to talk to you whilst playing the game. If he lost you, he would seriously consider quitting the game and just never gaming again. He was about to sling his bag over his shoulder, when his teacher’s voice rang through the classroom.

“Class, we will be conducting a compulsory bag check. Students, please kindly unzip your bags and stand behind your chairs with your hands on your desk.”

Kenma’s eyes widened at the tricky situation that dawned upon him. Gaming devices were strictly prohibited in Nekoma High. He was only able to hide the switch from his teachers for so long because they never conducted bag checks. However, now that his console was comfily stuffed in his bag, there was no running from his inevitable outcome. Their literature teacher circled the classroom, checking every bag thoroughly. Not one tiny pocket was left unchecked. Teetering back and forth, the teen fidgeted with his fingers, watching as the teacher looked into the biggest pocket of his bag. Remembering that he put his switch in a hidden pocket of the bag, he sighed in relief. Squinting, the old man shuffled around his belongings, before walking away without any suspicions. 

That was when a notification decided to pop up on the console.

Hearing the cheery chime of the notification, the teacher looked back, digging his hand in and checking through Kenma’s bag again. The man harshly unzipped the hidden pocket, pulling out the red and blue switch. The class landed their eyes upon the blond, occasionally giggling at how bad Kenma fucked up this time.

“Mr. Kozume, what is the meaning of this?”

“Sorry.”

The bald teacher cradled his face in his hands, never once letting go of the console.

“That won’t be enough. Detention after school in the principal’s office with me. Don’t expect to get your console back if you even think about skipping it.”

“Yes, Mr. Nakamura.”

Zipping his bag shut, the blond pulled the strap over his shoulder, before grabbing his phone.

Familiar numbers were dialled on the screen as Kenma held the device up to his ear. 

“Yello- Oh, Kenma? What’s up buddy?”

“Hey Kuroo, I can’t come to practice today, sorry.”

From the other end of the line, Kuroo perked his brow.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“Mr. Nakamura found my switch. I have detention after school, so I’m gonna have to skip for today. Sorry.”

Sighing, the third year smiled softly, rolling his eyes a bit.

“As expected from Kenma Kozume, the game addicted teen. I’ll see you tomorrow, and don’t worry about practice.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

With that, Kenma ended the call, before grabbing his stuff and leaving in a frenzy. 

“Ah, young (Y/N), take a seat next to Mr. Kozume.”

You rolled your eyes, slamming your backpack onto the desk as you gave the old teacher a stink eye. Just mere hours ago, you were happily gaming with your online love interest- no, friend. Now, you had to sit through another two hours of nothing but schoolwork. From next to you, Kenma sunk in his seat, completely done with everything that had to do with this day. The both of you stayed silent, waiting for Mr. Nakamura to say something.

“Both of you are to finish the work missed during your maths and literature lesson respectively. If you finish before two hours, you shall stay in this room until the time is up.”

Groaning out of frustration, the two of you went to grab your worksheets from the teacher’s desk, before heading back to your seats and plopping down. Sneering at the jumble of algebra and equations that awaited solving, you ripped a pencil out of your pencil case, starting on the questions. Oh you were gonna finish it. You were gonna finish it at such a terrifyingly quick pace that your pencil would break. Anything to shy away from the horror that is maths. It didn’t matter if you still had to sit there for another hour or two, just anything to stop the torture.

“Yo.”

The pencil lead beneath you snapped in half as you stopped abruptly. Looking to your right, you were met with a pair of golden irises.

“What’re you here for?”

Shuddering at the memory, you composed yourself before answering, head hanging low in embarrassment.

“I got caught playing video games in class, you?”

Chuckling to himself, Kenma didn’t even wait to reply.

“Hm, seems like we’re both in similar situations. Mr. Nakamuda over there found my switch in my bag during the bag check. What game were you playing?”

“U-uh-”

You stuttered upon your own words. How were you supposed to tell him you played some stupid game like Chubby Cows? He was cute, definitely, and you didn’t want to look like a tasteless idiot in front of him. First impressions matter, you know? How were you going to explain that you had no friends in real life, but only had one close friend (that mind you, you were kind of whipped for) in game? Was he going to think you were a pathetic loner? Oh god, was he going to spread rumours about you being a basic weirdo-

“So what game was it?”

To hell with it.

“Chubby...Chubby Cows... PLEASE DON’T MAKE FUN OF ME, I SWEAR I’LL DO ANYTHING JUST DON’T TELL PEOPLE PLEASE THEY’RE ALL GONNA THINK I’M STUPID AND CHILDISH AND-”

Kenma’s eyes lit up as he took in this new information.

“Chubby Cows? You play it too? Oh my god, and I thought I was the only one in this school that played it! Too bad, I only have one friend ingame, or I’d be able to start my own cult!”

Responding with just as much enthusiasm, you rambled on, Kenma listening to every single word.

“Oh my god! Yes! It’s so underrated! Deadass it’s kinda dumb but like it’s so cute! I also have a friend in the game, he’s super cool, you should add me and we can play together sometime! It’s gonna be so much fun if you, me, and him started a cult together! Add me, what’s your username?”

You grabbed your notebook and a coloured pen, ready to jot everything down.

“Oh, mine’s puddingheadboy, what about yours?”

You let out a gasp, surprising Kenma. This was him? This was the one person you’ve been playing with all along? He was right in front of your nose the whole time? 

“Wait... pudding-chan?”

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Kenma tilted his head, waiting for you to explain.

“Wow, a nickname already? That’s what my friend calls me too-”

“DUDE! IT’S ME! BEAR-SAN! HOLY SHIT, YOU WERE IN NEKOMA ALL ALONG, HOW COULD I HAVE NOT GUESSED?”

The blond’s eyes widened in realisation as a grin spread across his face.

“Wait, you’re bearoncrack? Seriously?”

“YEAH!”

Kenma could not believe what he was hearing and neither could you. To think that fate somehow brought the two of you together was absolutely insane. Who would’ve thought that the world was such a small place? The two of you were practically shaking with excitement at this revelation, when Mr. Nakamura decided to ruin the mood.

“What are the two of you clambering over? There’s still thirty minutes to go, zip it and get to work.”

Rolling your eyes, you continued to work on the worksheets. This dude was a literature teacher? Seriously? He really just used the word clamber wrong, what a dunce. You were only halfway through the pile of math worksheets that was presented in front of your desk, but holy shit were you feeling absolutely fantastic now that you finally found out who your online friend of half a year was in real life. Feeling a piece of paper hit your head, you glanced towards the floor to see a crumpled paper ball. Picking it up, you read the contents of the note.

“(Y/N), right? I’m Kenma.”

Smiling to yourself, you grabbed your pencil, writing “Yeah, it’s great to finally meet you pudding-chan.” Under his text, before folding the paper back into an airplane and throwing it back at the blond. Seeing your response, Kenma went a light shade of pink, goofily smiling as he wrote something down hastily. You bit your lip in anticipation waiting for his response. To your excitement, you received a reply almost moments later, this time the ball of paper landing on your worksheet instead of the side of your head.

“I was wondering if you wanna go out sometime, I can’t wait to get to know you better, internet buddy Bear-san:D Maybe that way I can send you a pixel heart in real life><”

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @just-another-bored-writer @burnt-snot​ @bokutokoutarou​ @trashcanweeb​ @tiger1719​ @justachillgirl​ @inlwlevi​ @talks-a-lot-of-stuff​ @random-fandomlover​ @kaylacinderella​ @agentvicinity​ @sakusasgarbage​ @skyeackermans​ @ewfilthymundane​ @poppirocks​ @eleiaisagoodgirliswear​ @tiredgr3mlin​ @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un​ @macaronnv​ @mariechan123​ @artsamber​ @itmekisuu​ @emsvegetables​ @sneezefiction​ @shoutsukii​ @xonfusedsoul​ @burnt-snot​ @iwaigroomi @swingflamingoat

Feel free to comment to be added to the taglist:3

Waaaaa Anne I hope you’re happy lmaoo 

Btw I hope you enjoyed reading this thing and if this flops oh my god I will cry thank you have a great night.

This goes in the short kings clan:3

[mattymattymerduck]

Fluff Alphabet with Matt Murdock 🥺 Pls

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Free time’s probably pretty lowkey with Matt, cuddling on the couch sipping coffee in the morning and playing little games like two truths and a lie. Which is pretty unfair because Matt can tell when you’re lying, but you always take the challenge to pull one on him. He also probably has a decent amount of board games (I know braille monopoly exists, you probably got it as a housewarming gift and spent the first night in his apartment trying to team up with Foggy to beat him, but at the last minute Foggy bankrupt both of you) and laugh at all your failed attempts to cheat. 

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Matt’s in love with your voice, but maybe more in love with the way you phrase things. He’ll be listening to you recount the plot of one of the shows you’ve been watching recently and smile hard just because the way you emphasis little parts and where you stop to breathe and the places were you slur the words together in a rush to get them out are adorable. He could listen to you talk all day.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

I think Matt would have a hard time knowing what to do, but he trusts that you know what you need in those situations. He’ll be there waiting for any request from you, whether you need a drink or a distraction, anything. He’d draw a bath for you or whip out a book and start reading to you, or he’d just sit there beside you until you put your head on his lap and he’d run his fingers through your hair and talk you through it. 

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Matt doesn’t like to think about the future much. He doesn’t want to let himself hope for too much and get disappointed if it doesn’t work out. But despite telling himself this there’s a little piece of him that really longs to get married and maybe put Daredevil away to live out a proper life with you. Maybe you guys would have a kid or two, but as long as he was making you happy it didn’t matter too much to him. I think he’d be a pretty big family man if he weren’t dedicated to vigilante-ism.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He’s passive. He has his moments of assertiveness, usually regarding the Daredevil and keeping you safe, but for the most part he’s happy just following your lead. 

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

You have a lot of different ways you fight, Matt’s more assertive than passive aggressive, but he’s also pretty cool-headed so I think when you argue it’s a lot of him being clearly tired of the topic and disappointed at what’s happening and that makes you even more angry and upset. Usually it takes a few hours of cooling off separately before one of you calls the other and you make up again. 

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

It depends on the day. Even though Matt’s super selfless he manages to let that image consume him and gets pretty self-involved over his work. So when he’s preoccupied with a case he doesn’t necessarily notice the coffee you leave on his desk for him, and when you’re out fighting crime he doesn’t think about you stocking up your first aid supplies or fixing up a meal for him in case he’s hungry when he gets back. But when he has a spare minute, cuddling you on a late morning or taking a bath with you at 4 am when he gets home all aching and bruised, he really appreciates you. 

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He has a habit of keeping things to himself because he feels like compartmentalizing his problems is easier for both of you, but he’s spent most of your relationship realizing that’s not sustainable. He’s not great at sharing, but he’s actively trying to be better at it.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Yes to both! Your relationship takes a lot of work from both of you because Matt’s so used to doing things on him own and you’re so hungry to help but it never feels like you can help enough. You’re both constantly learning how to make up for those shortcomings and being better at working together. 

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I don’t see Matt as a terribly jealous person. I think he puts a lot of trust in his s/o, and he has too much respect for them to get too touchy or possessive around others. I do think it’s possible his s/o tries to tease it out of him sometimes, in which case he’ll be pretty subtle but firm in showing who you’re with. (i.e. you’re at a party between a few law firms and he hears you talking to a guy who’s clearly flirting with you, he’ll wander over and join in, wrapping an arm around your waist or put his hand on your lower back and escort you to the bar when the conversation dips. It’s very possible that when you get home he kisses you extra hard to make sure you know he’s your best option though :) )

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Hell yeah he is. Your first kiss was outside Josie’s, you were both riding the high of winning a tricky case and a few celebratory beers. Matt had his hands on your waist to push you through the door into the refreshing night air, you kept complaining that it was too early to leave and you wanted to stay (all the while Josie’s literally shooing you off so she can lock up). When the door closed you turned around in his arms and grumbled about how it was too early to stop celebrating and he laughed.

“Don’t laugh! You don’t wanna stop either, right?” You pulled your hands up to rest on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your fingers. “You can’t lie to me like this,” You smiled, Matt wondered if you felt his heart skip a beat there. 

“No, I don’t want it to end yet.” His hands moved from your waist to your back, your fingers played with his tie, already half undone. 

“Then... what should we do next?” You tilted your head and Matt could feel your breath on his lips, felt your heartbeat speed up a bit and tug at his tie lightly. 

It’s a soft kiss, he moves in and your lips meet and you’re both thinking “this is exactly what I thought it would be like” - everything you thought it would be. His lips are soft and they taste like the foam of the beer you’d just been drinking, but his arms around you block out any chill that wind might give you and every time your lips separate they come back together more desperately, until your fingers are in his hair and he’s pulling your body flush against his and neither of you want to forget the way your lips tingled afterwards. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Matt wouldn’t make a big fuss about it. He’d be showing you how he felt in his actions long before he felt like he needed to say the words, but I think there’d just be a moment of silence between you two where nothing particularly special happens, and he’ll turn to you, find your hand to play with your fingers, maybe rest it over his heart so you knew he was being sincere, and say softly “I’m in love with you.” 

Or, you know, just super casually in the office when everyone’s around and he’s in a particularly good mood. You guys just finished deciding what to get for lunch and he’s leaving the room when he pops his head back in and says to you “oh yeah and I’ve been thinking, I’m in love with you.” and just dip. He’d get a big kick out of you, Foggy, and Karen just sitting there completely baffled. 

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

It’s like Matt’s secret fantasy to get married to you, a guilty pleasure. When he finally does it, there’s no way he’s doing it alone, so Foggy and Karen help him. Karen takes you to a jewelry store to figure out what ring Matt should get, under the guise that she’s trying to interview the shop owner or something, you fall for it. Foggy and Matt visit an old client of theirs, who has a small restaurant that you and him visit every so often. They convince the owner to get on board and decorate the whole place with flower petals and soft lighting, sets the stage for a guitarist who agrees to play your favourite sappy songs all night. Matt’s pretty traditional so he’ll do the whole romantic wine-and-dine thing before having the ring come with dessert, he’ll get on his knee and say that he’s known for a long time that he wants to spend his life with you, that he wants to promise you he’ll do whatever he can to make you happy. When you say yes he’ll jump up and sweep you off your feet in a hug. 

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

When you’re alone it’s sweetheart. He’s more of an old fashioned pet name kinda guy, babe and baby just sound weird coming from him. Sometimes you tease him into trying something different until you’re just goofing off and calling each other dumb names like “poptart” and “yogurt tube” and laugh your asses off when one of you casually uses it a month later. In public he’ll just use your name, or some shorter version of it. 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s pretty clear if you know Matt, it’s not like he tries to hide it. But he’s not like, shouting it from the rooftops, it’s more in his body language than anything else. If you’re in the room he’s stand close to you, or smile more when you talk, be faster at checking his phone when it rings in case it’s you. Sometimes he’ll even lean his head on your shoulder, if you’re in the office late and he’s tired or stressed. Foggy’s caught him laughing at a little voice memo you left for him when you were on a trip out of town and hadn’t been able to talk to him much. One time he asked Karen to describe a picture of you that was on his phone (you two had been walking through a park when an old lady stopped and asked to take your picture because “you two are so precious together”), he had a big smile on his face the whole time, Karen thought it was adorable.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He’s modest. He’s not about to dip you and make out in front of people, and it’s not exactly professional to hold your hand in a courtroom, but if he’s in a place where he can then he’ll kiss your temple when he’s leaving or give you a quick peck on the lips. 

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Hmmmm okay well I know this is a fluffy list but ... because he can hear your heartbeat he’s really good in bed bc he can always figure out what you like best in the moment, just sayin.

Also because of that he can tell when you’re stressed and tired just from your voice on your phone, so if you call on your way to his place he’ll make sure he has some way of making you destress when you get home! Whether that’s your favourite meal or a bath or something else ;))) He’s on it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Cliche, he’s so corny. If he’s gonna do some grand gesture he’s gonna do something traditionally grand, just like with his proposal. That being said, he doesn’t do those things very often. Usually it’s the little things he does that prove he loves you, but for things like anniversaries he’ll be super sappy.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Yes! It’s important to both of you to support each other,, and the whole point of a relationship is to help the other grow and achieve what they want, so anything you ask of him to help he’ll do as best he can. You both prioritize your own work though, so if he has too much on his plate between the firm and being Daredevil he’ll tell you. Even if that’s the case, he’ll find some way to make it up to you later. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I think Matt’s a routine guy for the most part. He doesn’t have a lot of consistency in the other aspects of his life, I think he’s enjoy having something like that in his relationship. But, he’s not adverse to doing new things, and he’ll happily join you in whatever you want to do. 

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Matt’s easily distracted by other things in his life, so he might not be the most empathetic person off the bat, but he can also read you like a book. From your tone of voice, the way you walk into a room, even the way you’re breathing tells him everything he needs to know about what you’re feeling. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

It means a lot to him. He’d be willing to give up being Daredevil in the future, if you asked him to or if he felt like it was putting too much strain on the two of you. But even with that, it’s not going to be his top priority at all times. He cares about you more than anything but protecting people and taking down Hell’s Kitchen’s villains is integral to his self-worth, and until he feels like he’s done enough to let himself have that peaceful happy ending with you, he’s not gonna give it up; at least, he won’t be happy giving it up.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Around twice a month you use Matt’s kitchen to make a whole bunch of meal boxes for the homeless, it has more space than yours and you like the extra time you get with him while you cook. It’s one of Matt’s favourite things about you, how thoughtful you are, and that you’re doing something in your own way to help the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He also just loves listening to you ramble or hum while you cook, or when he gets to wrap his arms around you from behind and nuzzle his nose into your neck, maybe sway to a song you’re playing from your phone. 

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

When you’re alone together then totally, when he’s in a cuddle mood he’ll always have some form of contact, even if it’s just your knees pressed together. 

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’ll cling to his phone and hope you’ll call him soon. Or he’ll call you, maybe wander over to your place. He also has some saved voice memos and voicemails you’ve left him in the past, he might replay them just to hear you. 

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Oh yeah, he’ll do just about anything to keep you safe and happy. If you’re threatened for some reason, he’ll find the person and deal with that on the same night. If you’re kidnapped or hurt he wouldn’t take a break until you were back in his arms again. And if you’re just generally sad he’ll do anything you ask of him to help you feel better. 

Send me a character and one/several letter(s)

[boundinshallows]

Peaky Rare Pair Bingo Mid-Fest Round-Up

We started the Peaky Blinders Rare Pair Bingo Challenge back in July and still have a few weeks left. However, I thought it would be a great time to do a mid-fest round-up to catch folks up on what’s been written so far. 

Rare Pairs are tricky things. They’re rare because they don’t get a lot of fanworks produced about them. And in turn, sometimes the authors don’t get a lot of love on their fics because the audiences are limited. It becomes a vicious cycle, and in the end, fandom suffers because there's an overrepresentation of just a few pairings, but many amazing characters to love and explore. 

I would like to invite you all to take a look at some truly incredible pieces of fic for some much undervalued pairings in Peaky Blinders. If you have a moment, please leave the authors a comment to keep fueling their creativity, even if it’s brief, especially if you like the ship. Kudos are wonderful too, but comments really help writers know there’s an audience out there looking for rare pair content. 

Cheers! 

++++++++++

 Chester Campbell / Tommy Shelby

Shameless by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy has his usual meeting with Campbell in a café but decides to spice it a bit up.

Tatiana Petrovna / Alfie Solomons

Solnishko by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something lovely about all the movements, about kneading the dough, while listening to some radio shows, shaking one’s hand and laughing about the people and music the whole time. As stupid as it could be, Alfie didn’t like to be interrupted during this process. There was only one exception, only one person that could call him or come in without having to deal with his grumpiness.

Vivid by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] In which Alfie dreams about getting fucked by Tatiana, and asks Tommy a question.

Dazzle Me Blind by Strawberriez8800 || [ T ] Tatiana glances back at Alfie over her shoulder. “Have you ever been fucked by a princess?” “Can’t say I have, no.” “Good,” she says, voice like molten gold. “I like to be the first at everything I do.”

Singular by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] Alfie tugs on Tatiana's silver chain, pulls her down towards him. “Something you should know, princess,” he says, mouth brushing against the shell of her ear, “I’m not in the habit of sharing, am I now.” She grins a feral grin. “Not even with Tommy Shelby?”

Barney Thompson / Tommy Shelby

Play Pretend by Valkrist || [ T ] It shouldn’t feel this way, should it? He shouldn’t be that afraid, feel more comfortable. Enjoy all the moments, blossom and feel all this happiness, but he didn’t. Why was he sad? Why didn’t he experience the same things others were talking about?

Peaches, Roses, Sandalwood by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something fascinating about all the oils, vials and equipment standing on the table. Small glasses, various colors, paste, scrapers, everything one could imagine. Different scents filled the room - and in the middle of it all there was one filled, slightly violet flacon.

Always Landing on Their Feet by Valkrist || [ G ] Tommy had always been torn between doing business properly and giving Charlie enough love and attention. Never really knew how to do it well enough, how to make his childhood fulfilled enough, but he had thought that it was okay, that he did his best giving Charlie good education and lovely father-son evenings. Had even dared to think that his boy didn’t have any secrets and behaved nice when he had to go to London for some days. Well, this was until he got one particular fateful e-mail.

Indulge a Desire by Valkrist || [ E ] There were many things that helped Barney forget about all his duties for a while, but the low lighting was the best one, after all.

Been Reading Books of Old, the Legends and the Myths by Valkrist || [M] Remember the last time we wrote each other letters? I don’t, but well, maybe it’s a good idea. Kinda funny to send all this words, knowing that you won’t read them immediately. But I won’t write them too often, still gotta pay for my living, you know.

Tu as tué la peur qui là dans mes bras by Valkrist || [ T ] Tommy chuckled. It was always funny to listen to Barney, even if he couldn’t understand how the latter managed to stay that calm. It seemed as if Ollie made nothing but mistakes, but Barney was patient, so terribly patient. Repeated the words again and again, encouraged Ollie to go on and not to send it all to hell.

Thoughts of You Consume by Valkrist || [ E ] Barney had already known what was about to come at the races. Going there hadn’t really been his preferable option for the day, but there was no harm in doing it - just being on Tommy’s side, looking at the majestic horses and seeing the other man’s lips curling into a smile when everything went the way it should. Barney didn’t understand much of this sort of business, but it was alright as long as Tommy knew what he was doing.

May Carleton / Tommy Shelby

When You Walk in Smelling Like Her Perfume by Valkrist || [ T ] May had never thought this necklace would mean so much to her one day. It hadn’t been much more than a lovely gesture back then, a little present, a joke. Something that looked lovely and united them. Even the telepathy coming with it didn’t seem intimate back then, being a lovely side effect. Oh, how easy it had been back then…

Between This Heartbeat and the Next by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Tommy is looking at her like he’s finally living their moments rather than stealing them. What a sight it makes.

Off the Beaten Path by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Thomas is waiting for someone; May is not so conceited as to assume it is her, yet when she takes the seat beside him and orders herself a drink, with the way he looks at her, it would be asinine to conclude the case is anything else. 

The One Who Got Away by Boundinshallows || [ M ] Tommy and May go on an overnight trip to purchase a horse.

James / Tommy Shelby

This was Nothing by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy is frustrated after another meeting with Alfie and he needs an outlet. Luckily it finds him first.

Salt and Mint by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy was forced to remain for dinner at Ada's, in fear of James revealing their little secret, and makes a deal with the boy for his good behavior... things escalate very quickly.

Like Thunder, Like Lightning by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy feels torn after his hasty departure from Ada's, and a surprising phone call might, or might not help him move forward...

R U Mine? by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy goes back to James, but it also comes with more consequences than he imagined... (Direct sequel to Like Thunder, Like Lightning!)

Jessie Eden / Ada Shelby

Dress by Keine_angst || [ G ] Now that she's made peace with her feelings towards Jessie Eden, there was only one obstacle left. The dress. 

Hungry for (Your) Love by Keine_angst || [ G ] “Tommy, sweetheart, how can you expect me to agree to do something for you if you don’t explain what do you need from me?” she pointed out the obvious, because really, it wouldn’t be safe to just say yes and take the pot luck, not when Thomas Shelby was in charge. Ada agrees to help her brother out, but things get out of hand.

Billy Grade / Finn Shelby

Beyond Redemption (Just a Pawn) by Valkrist || [ M ] Finn was angry, fucking angry. Should’ve probably known that it all would come this way. Done something against it. Then again, what could he have done? Tommy hadn’t told him that much, trying to keep him away from this bad kind of business. Football bets were alright, but nothing more. Didn’t need to ship cocaine or opium or whatever this was about. Bets like in the good old times, having Billy to write everything down.

Gina Gray / Oswald Mosley

White Swan by Valkrist || [ M ] It was funny how they all hadn’t noticed it at all, Mosley thought. Such blind people. Didn’t see it, maybe simply didn’t want to, who was to say that. He hadn’t been truly interested in joining this dance - an evening with a bunch of fucking Gypsies wasn’t exactly his idea of a well spent time - but apparently there were some good things about occasions of that kind. Well, as long as he ignored the opium, cocaine and brandy. Really didn’t seem to know the rules, this silly people.

Lizzie Stark / Tommy Shelby

Again by Emjen_Enla || [ T ] Tommy rolled over. Again. Or Tommy and Lizzie mostly fail at this sharing a bed thing.

Bonnie Gold / Goliath

Raise the Boxing Gloves by Valkrist || [ M ] Poor boy didn’t know what dreamless nights were anymore. Always had something to think about, adventures happening, a combination of all the things he had experienced. Sometimes bad, sometimes good, sometimes it was simply unclear. But Goliath could beat it all out of him if he wasn’t careful enough. Made him forget with ease, his senses focussing on some little, often rather unimportant details. An impressive and talented young man.

Ollie / Alfie Solomons

Our Bones May Turn to Stone but Hearts like Ours Don’t Rust by Valkrist || [ T ] The dunes, the water, the sand, it was all calming. Ollie simply couldn’t get used to it after having spend so much time in London, knowing all the dirt of Camden. Muddy shoes, blood, he had seen it all, even though it was way better than Birmingham, if Alfie was to be believed.

Luca Changretta / Tommy Shelby

Now and Forever by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Luca is enchanted with the beautiful blue-eyed boy that attends the school he helps his mother at, little does he know Tommy Shelby feels the same way towards him...

Boysenberry Tie, with Periwinkle Eyes by WTSL_Writer_of_Things || [ G ] The bow was strange and new, the colour hard to come by and find. It wasn't often people managed to dye a bow that colour, so he snatched it up and bright it home to his blue eyes doll. Years go by and he finds that colour again, this time as a tie, and he gets the tie for his new Periwinkle eyed lover, who he practically drops to the floor for. So he gets a boysenberry tie, for the Periwinkle eyes of his strange lover.

Oswald Mosley / Tommy Shelby

Coat Wrapped Around His Shoulders by Valkrist || [ M ] It was a miracle, a fucking miracle.Tommy still didn’t know how Barney had stayed alive, but he had. Could have shot Mosley marvelously if it weren’t for this horrible interruption. A life for a life, except both people had stayed alive this time. And this was the other side of the coin. Mosley was still alive. A wonderful plan, all for nothing. So much effort put into it, all for nothing. But at least they hadn’t caught them, so Tommy could still keep his cover. Could enter the hospital without people suspecting him, ready to figure it all out.

[innittowinit]

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (Chapter 19)

Fic summary: 

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

Eret's been acting...strange Techno senses somethings definitely off

Chapter word count: 1726

AO3

Friendships were a complex thing. Techno had known that as long as he could remember. People come and people go, it was nothing, especially not to him or Wilbur. Inherently, they knew all they had was each other, maybe their other brothers would also always be with them but what they had together was a special bond. Neither Phil nor Tommy would ever be able to understand them the way they understood each other and that was fine, they had lived every day side by side, they shared almost all their core memories and so their rationality was incredibly similar because of it, meaning they could very easily understand each other. 

Never had they asked for a friend that would feel the same way as the friendship they had with each other, and yet they always seemed to be asking for too much. That’s the part that confused Techno. 

Never had they needed to be understood. Never had they needed something complex. All they needed was someone to accept them so why did it feel like everyone always ended up leaving? Were they the problem? It always felt like they were trying so hard so why did it feel like they were pushing people away? 

You see, recently Eret had been acting….off. 

He had been stumbling over words, fidgeting, leaving quickly with the excuse of ‘being late for something’, and taking hours to reply to any kind of message. Each of these things would be fine on their own but with them all together, they felt a little strange. 

It didn’t seem like Wilbur had noticed the recent shift in behaviour yet so Techno didn’t dare bring it up, it wasn’t uncommon that he was overly cautious and he didn’t want to risk upsetting his brother over something that might not even be a big deal, especially when he had just started to get over the incident with the ticket booth. 

“So....He’s been busy a lot lately” Wilbur sighed, draping himself across the couch and clutching his phone in one hand. Niki had insisted they add some stickers onto it since letting them live off a ‘boring flip phone’ (as she had called it) was apparently not okay.

“Do you think he’s okay? Maybe something’s going on at home..”

Oh. Techno was positive everything was okay at home. Of course there was a possibility that he was just being protective of Wilbur because he didn’t want anyone hurting his brother but seriously! In his opinion, if you had enough money to eat fucking burger king as a school lunch you were doing fine financially, and really, that’s all that mattered right? Money had always been the reason why their parents were never around.

It was probably just his jealousy talking but he had always had a bit of an underlying anger for people with a big disposable income, how was it fair that their parents had to work so much at minimum wage jobs that they could hardly see them just to keep them warm and fed and yet other families could have their parents around by the time they were home from school /and/ have extra money for treats.

“Wil, don’t worry about him.” Techno sighed, trying to choose his words carefully. He knew Wilbur was always more sensitive to rejection than him.

“He’s more..social than we are, he probably just has other friends that he doesn’t want to ignore or something”

“Maybe.. I wish he’d tell us though, I don’t like being left on read” 

With a sigh and a gentle prod for him to sit up a bit more, Techno wrapped an arm around Wilbur, feeling how he melted into the contact straight away. Of course it hurt Techno too to be ignored by the one person they thought actually could be a good friend but he needed to put on a brave face for Wilbur. Of course it felt like a stab in the gut to have trusted someone so much to be able to start talking to them and then they just disappear but Wilbur needed him right now, it was obvious to anyone that he was the one with the bigger connection issues. 

“Wil, trusting people is a part of being friends. We can talk to him tomorrow alright? And we can explain that it would make you feel better if he said his plans before disappearing”

-----

It was Tuesday night and other than a few memes she had screenshotted off of instagram and sent them, they hadn’t really heard much at all from Eret. She hadn’t hung around them long enough at school for either of them to really bring it up with her and honestly, Techno was getting incredibly worried about what was going on. He’d never had a real friend like this before, of course Skeppy always made him laugh but he was family so he didn’t count, if he messed up with family he knew as long as they weren’t adults they’d still love him afterwards, friends worked differently though. He had his Hypixel friends too but they didn’t count either since they were online and he could type to them on days when he was struggling more. By now he’d known them so long they were basically family, they’d all taken hours out of their own time to research Techno’s problems to try and be as accommodating as possible- all in all he really couldn't compare them with Eret.

It was tricky and he knew communication was one of the more important parts, which was ironically what he struggled with the most. Maybe on one of his worse-off days, where he normally would have had Wilbur doing most of the talking for him, Eret had assumed he was angry with her or giving her the silent treatment, maybe she had taken offence to the fact that Wilbur and Techno were very obviously closer than she was with each one of them. The thought that somehow they might have made her feel left out made him feel a little sick, had they not explained well enough what had led to this point? Maybe it was selfish for them to relish in the fact that she rarely bugged them for explanations.

All in all, Techno was sure they had done something for the sudden shift in attitude and, not wanting to make Wilbur feel worse than he already did, he wasn’t sure who could help him. 

Maybe he could wait up until his parents got home? People on TV were always getting advice from them but then again.. His family wasn’t really like those on tv, if he was being honest he was half sure he’d be yelled at for being awake before he could have a chance to ask for help. 

He could also ask Phil, but then again Phil was already beyond stressed trying to make sure they were all okay, he really didn’t want to bother him. Niki was closer to Wilbur than she was with him and he was sure his hypixel friends were all still at school because of the time zone difference. 

The only other person he could really think of talking to about this was Skeppy, and so, hopping out of bed, trying his hardest not to make too much noise and wake up Wilbur, he made his way to the PC. 

11:36PM 

From what he knew, Skeppy usually stayed up late and slept so late he often missed his bus anyway so he probably was still up.

Clicking onto discord, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the green dot next to his cousin's icon, immediately messaging him. 

11:36 OrphanDestroyer: Hey nerd

11:36 OrphanDestroyer: U awake?

It took a few minutes for him to answer, Techno was just about ready to give up and accept he had just chosen the one night he may have gone to bed on time to try and message him.

11:42 japanesesymbolforbeginner: 1 sec ina call wiv bbh 

Writing ‘bbh’ off as one of Skeppy’s friends he had forgotten to tell them about, Techno waited patiently for Skeppy to say he was free. 

11:46 japanesesymbolforbeginner: ok im done, what you need

11:46 OrphanDestroyer: SO

11:46 OrphanDestroyer: Do you remember Eret?

11:48 OrphanDestroyer: Okay well basically for like the past few days he’s been ignoring me and Wilbs and I’m really really worried we offended him or something like maybe we hurt him or he’s mad or maybe he decided he's too good to be friends with us which tbh I don't blame him for because we kinda are losers and maybe people won't be friends with him because he's friends with us or something? Idk idk I just really wish he’d tell us something because like Wil is freaking out and idk what to tell him, he really struggles with this kinda stuff and I wanna help but idk how. 

11:48 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Ok...fuck

11:48 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Has he replied to any messages or anything? Maybe he’s busy?

11:48 OrphanDestroyer: Not really 

11:49 japanesesymbolforbeginner: Okay okay so here’s what I think you should do

11:49 japanesesymbolforbeginner: If he’s ignoring you you're gonna need to confront him next time you see him and don’t just agree when he makes an excuse to leave, like say you NEED to talk

11:50 japanesesymbolforbeginner: If u think he’s offended bc sometimes you don't speak a lot maybe just message him some resources or whatever on the type of mutism you deal with, even if he doesn’t reply he’ll probably still open it.

11:50 japanesesymbolforbeginner: like he might just be in the position where he’s nervous he’ll offend you if he asks something about it? Like maybe he doesn't understand fully and he just needs one of you to open the discussion 

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: okay you're probably right

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: There’s a link I have to one I normally email teachers whenever we have a new one so i'll probably send him that

11:50 OrphanDestroyer: Tomorrow though, my dads gonna be home soon and he’ll kill me if im still awake 

11:51 japanesesymbolforbeginner: aight, night Techno, good luck and btw you're all always welcome to come over if things get tense over there with ur parents

[the-ghost-and-the-writer]

The Dinozzo Charm pt 2-Ziva David X Female Reader

After the case, you take Ziva up on her dinner offer as a way to grow closer to your brother’s workmates. It couldn’t possibly be a date, could it? (AKA, the one where two wlw try to build up the courage to ask each other out on a date over the course of several dates)

I realise that I kinda changed the request a little bit, since they don’t have a proper date in this, but in my defence I forgot. And I love the idea of them dating without realising. It’s my level of dumb lesbianism, I thrive on it.

Requested

(Part 2 of 4) (Part 1)

Fandom: NCIS

Ship: Female Reader/Ziva David

Characters: Ziva David. Female Reader (Dinozzo). Anthony Dinozzo. Abby Sciuto Minor Characters: Jethro Gibbs. Timothy McGee

Word Count: 7869

Warnings: Swears,  dumb wlw being dumb

You woke up to a blanket being draped over your shoulders. It was dark outside, only a small lamp near the door shining any light around the room. There was enough light to let you see your brother standing over you, smoothing the blanket out over you properly with his tie and jacket removed and his top button undone "Hey." You muttered and Tony looked to your face suddenly with a tired smile. "Hey peanut. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Didn't want you getting cold." His hand stroked across your hair. "Did you just get in?" He nodded "Time's it?" With a deep sigh, your brother straightened up and groaned. "Really early." You sighed and nodded your understanding as you turned on the couch. "Okay, sorry. You go to bed." Tony pressed his lips to your temple when you closed your eyes again, keeping them there for a few seconds before he moved back with a soft exhale. "Night." "Ni'." You grumbled and tugged the blanket further up, curling it around your hand. In seconds, before you even heard Tony's bedroom door close, you were asleep again.

You woke up before Tony did, evidently, only a few hours later. With a grumble, you sat up and stretched yourself out from the curled up position you'd had to deal with for the couch. When you felt able to stand without falling over, you went over to the kitchen to see what you could make for breakfast. There was pretty much nothing in the fridge, in the cabinets, anywhere in Tony's kitchen, and you sighed softly. Then again, you guessed it was only to be expected since he spent most of his time at work and had little free to have a proper meal at home. This time, at least for a day or two, he had you though. So you went to your bags and dug out a simple outfit that would do, checking that Tony was fast asleep before you left to get something for the both of you so he could have breakfast at home

You found this cute little place not too far away. It was quiet, for the time being, and you were greeted with a smile as you walked in. Looking over all the options, you pouted and wondered if any of it was really Tony's style; after all, he either ate more pizza and burgers than a hungover frat boy or he downed coffee and hoped for the best. You decided to get two breakfast wraps, a few bagels, and two coffees, ordering them with a smile that was more awake than you really felt. A chime from your phone distracted you soon after, a text from one of your teammates back at New Haven. A simple 'miss you already, your desk looks so weird empty' that made you smile. Of course you'd miss your team in these months, but it wouldn't be forever and it was worth a bit of homesickness if it meant you got to spend time with your brother. You shot off a message that simultaneously teased him with an accusation that he was sweet on you while also returning the sentiment, only just managing to get the right wording and sending it off when your breakfast was ready. You took it with a smile and a sweet thank you that actually made the kid that served you light up as you paid (with a bit extra). You weren't too sure if Tony would be awake when you got back so you hurried over in order to make it a surprise that didn't start with him worrying over where you were.

He was still out cold when you came back, but it seemed that the smell of coffee and hot food made him stir out of it and you heard him grumble as you took your wrap and one of the six bagels from the bag "Food?" He called out and a laugh was pushed from you. "Yea, I got breakfast. Come get it while it's still warm." A minute or two later, Tony came out in a pair of boxers and a plain t-shirt, rubbing his eyes and trying to tame his bedhead. "Whatcha get?" You set him off towards the bag in the kitchen, where he instantly picked out the coffee and took an obnoxiously loud sip and groaned. "Wrap, bagels, coffee." "Oh, peanut, you're an angel." You smiled pointedly at him as he walked over to sit beside you with his wrap in one hand and the coffee in the other, falling sleepily against your shoulder "I'm glad you decided to come over." He sighed, a frown twitching at his lips "I've missed you." "Missed you too, Junior." You patted his head softly and then turned to kiss the top of his head "Sorry it was in the middle of a case though." Tony shrugged. "Hey, you helped. Gibbs appreciated it, definitely, and you made me look better." "Did you get any further with it?" He nodded slightly as he took a large bite from the wrap, not even bothering to cover his mouth with his hand when he spoke. "Only a bit. After Abs found the, uh, Pero..." You sighed and shook your head. "Paroxetine." He snapped his fingers and pointed to you. "That one. After she found it, we tried to find who gave him the prescription for it. Tricky shit, really, there’s a lot of smooth talking our way through things. We think we've got that guy, so we're going to talk to him today." "Who's 'we'? You and McGee?" He shook his head and washed the food down with a mouthful of coffee that was too much and spilled a few drops from the sides of his mouth like a child. "No, me and Ziva." You straightened up a bit and nodded as casually as you could. It really didn't end up being so casual at all. "Oh. Cool." That made Tony look at you with a confused frown and you ignored him "Are you close to her? In general?" "I guess." He said slowly, closely inspecting your profile as you ducked your head and traced your finger around the rim of the cup in your hand "Why?" "No reason. Just asking." You took a quick swig of the coffee, followed by a small bite of your almost-finished wrap.

Silence set over you as Tony seemed to try and read your mind with his intense gaze, until you sighed "You know, she's actually not that bad." "What do you mean?" He sat up then, properly, and stretched slightly . "Well, you made her out to be really cold. But she's actually nice." His eyes narrowed at you for a second and then he shrugged as he gave up on trying to gauge you. "She probably trusts you already then. I mean, it makes sense, since you are my sister." You nodded softly and finished up the wrap by jamming the rest of it into your mouth, crumpling the paper wrapping up and throwing it towards the small waste bin across the room. It fell in perfectly and you laughed in triumph as Tony nodded once, an impressed pout on his face “Yep, definitely my sister.” He said, almost smug about it. You grinned at him and then sat back heavily, tipping your head back to the ceiling.

It had been far too long since you'd seen your brother, and it was such a relief to be sat beside him and hear him eat his food even though it grossed you out slightly. Not that you were going to complain about it just yet though. You heard a sigh come from Tony but didn't look to the side until you felt the couch dip more as he sat back. You turned your head and looked at him, your smile falling at how sad he looked all of a sudden "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you for a while. And didn't mention you to the team." "It's fine, Junior. I understand." You moved closer and hugged him gently. He rested his head against your shoulder and wrapped his arm around your middle, like a child, his frown still deep, and the two of you stayed like that for a few seconds until you clapped him on the shoulder and sighed "Okay. Up you get. You need to get to work. Killers to catch." He groaned and slid down the couch before nodding and getting up properly. "Fine." He groaned again and put his coffee on the table in front of the two of you "Don't you be bringing anyone back here when I'm out." He called back before he went into his room to dress. "Yea, because I pull that quickly." You laughed with a roll of your eyes. You had stuff to do, which you were sure he'd prefer you'd do other than try to get some. First on your list was looking for somewhere to stay that wasn't Tony's couch, though you were sure he'd appreciate it if you kept buying him breakfast he could eat before setting off to work. You were told to sit tight for a day or two, so you could get yourself sorted, before you were able to meet your temporary team and properly get back to work. So you went to your bags and shifted through a few of them to find your laptop.

After an hour or two of searching, dotted with answering texts from your team about how the day was already going so slowly and how they all missed you, you decided to go out and get some actual food in for Tony. There wasn't much else you could think to do, since you had already arranged one viewing of an apartment and were waiting on a response from the other, and you didn't want to live off what Tony usually did for the few days you were staying with him.

Despite your jokes about his diet, the same ones you'd been recycling since he was in college but with the occasional "you eat like a frat boy" thrown in there, you knew he actually had good taste in food. Given the chance, he'd eat right. It was just his job and how borderline obsessed he was with it, the hours he'd put in and the days he'd spend without sleep because of it; he'd eat rarely and when he did it was high-fat stuff to make up for skipped meals. You were determined to make sure he'd have a decent meal today, even if he did have to microwave it if he got in late, so you decided on something simple but that you knew would make him happy. Along with his favourite tooth-rotting dessert that you would indulge in as well and a few things for the next day, you lugged the bags back to Tony’s place. It didn’t take too long to put everything away, there was plenty of room, and then you went back to your laptop to carry on the search

As it turned out, Tony was able to leave work at a reasonable time so you could actually sit and have a hot meal together on his couch, since he evidently didn’t have a dining table. He spoke a lot about nothing, like how good you were at cooking and how he almost didn’t want you to leave if you kept this up, but you could tell there was something up. He is your brother, after all “Bad day?” You asked during a lull in his babbling. He sighed and bowed his head. “Yea.” “Wanna talk about it?” “I met Kirk’s sister. One of the foster ones.” His voice was low, almost inaudible “She’s seven months pregnant, father’s nowhere to be seen. Kirk’s been helping her, with everything. And now he’s gone as well.” “It happens, all the time. Do you usually get so upset over this stuff?” “No. I…I shouldn’t. But she’s so young, and so far along.” You looked over him and shook your head softly. “There’s something else.” “I don’t think he did it. With everything she said, I don’t think he could.” “What does the evidence say?” “It doesn’t say definitely that he did it.” “But it doesn’t say definitely that he didn’t. And you’ve got to find him to prove either.”

You’d moved to a new place two days later, were introduced to your temporary new team, and managed to have enough time to unpack everything and try to make the place cozy. There had been barely enough time to spend with Tony those few days but you at least spoke to him whenever you could, never really speaking about the work either of you were doing other than it was difficult and draining.

The first you heard that the case had ended was when you got a text from Ziva maybe a week and a half after moving from Tony’s place. A simple ’This is Ziva, I was wondering if you’re still interested in meeting for dinner’ that you weren’t expecting. You thought it through for a second or two before you typed up a message that you then deleted and rewrote another three times before settling on a (hopefully chirpy) reply. Hi, Ziva. I didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon. Of course I’m still interested. I’m free this weekend if that’s okay. It still wasn’t 100% but you couldn’t think of anything else to send. The almost ten minutes that it took for her to reply almost had you picking at your nails. It was stupid to deny, to yourself at least, that you were attracted to Ziva; after everything you’d heard about her and how surprisingly nice she’d been when you met her, and how beautiful she was, there was a –slight- draw towards her. The chime of your phone almost made you jump and you had to take a breath to make sure that you didn’t instantly open the message and seem too eager. Saturday then? Is there anywhere you’d prefer to meet? Saturday is perfect. I don’t really know many places around here, so it’s your choice. It would be nice to get more accustomed to the area, as well as get closer to Tony’s friends; you’d meet up with Abby for drinks, and probably see Tim as well if you got the chance. Ziva was a good start, at least.

She’d told you where to meet, a little coffee shop not too far from your place that made you wonder how far she lived from you, and said it’d be best to meet at 5:30 since it wouldn’t be as busy. She must have gone a few times, to be so sure of the flow of people through it

You showed up early, almost fifteen minutes early in fact, and got yourself a drink as you waited. You read through emails, using the free wifi of course, and replied to a couple through sips of your drink and looking up each time the door chimed. Ziva had been right, the place wasn’t so crowded and people were arriving and leaving at closely similar rates so you weren’t worried about missing her when she came in. You’d only just finished your drink when the door again opened and Ziva walked in. She looked somehow more beautiful than when you’d last seen her and you had the urge to stand up the second you saw her, like the world was Pride and Prejudice. Despite the urge, evidently, you stayed sat and just waved when she met your gaze. She smiled as she came over and you almost cursed yourself for the flip that your heart did. For God’s sake, you thought, you hardly even knew her.

You both ordered a drink each, which didn’t take so long to arrive, and sat in silence until Ziva spoke up “I’m glad you agreed to come here.” She smiled and you let your own smile out. “Of course I agreed.” You sighed with a shrug. Ziva's smile changed, only very slightly, but it seemed to change the entire meaning of it. Slowly, you felt your cheeks start to heat and, as soon as you realised, ducked your head to your cup "I mean, I've heard a lot of great things about the team, I just want to find out how much is true." "To prove it, I'll have to know what Tony's told you." "Even forgetting the cases that you do, that you all work so much for. I mean-" You sighed again and tried to think back. He had tried to catch you up on a lot of stuff in six months, and the two years before that hadn't exactly been quiet either "-there's been a lot. He tells me about almost everything." As you looked up, Ziva looked almost worried so you quickly corrected yourself "Nothing too personal, of course. Just about when you hang out, and some of what you've talked about. There's still quite a bit I'd like to know about you." There was a beat of silence where you just looked at her, and she looked back just as unblinking, before you realised what that sentence could imply "All of you sound really cool." "Well, I'd like to know more about you as well. Like I said, I only wish Tony had told us about you sooner." "Plenty of time to make up for it." You muttered before taking a drink.

"So how was the case?" You asked, resting your elbows on the table and leaning forwards a little "I'm guessing that you got him. Kirk, I mean." "We found him, yes. But he didn't do it. He was there, where we found his blood, but he didn't do anything." Your soft confused pout and head tilt made her pause before she carried on "It was one of his friends, from training, and the Staff Sergeant tried to stop him but ended up injured. He was worried after that and went into hiding. He helped us, a lot." After a second, where you were silent and thinking it through, Ziva spoke again "Didn't Tony tell you ?" "No, he's probably taking a break while he can. I'll try to drop in soon." "You look after Tony a lot, don't you?" She asked with a smile that could almost seem fond. "I try to. He's, pretty much, the only family I have." "I thought Tony was okay with your father now." "Tony is."  You nodded, your mood souring slightly "But it's okay. Just what happens." A fake smile was thrown onto your face and you sat up straighter "Anyway, none of that. We're meant to be getting to know each other." You laughed softly, shaking your head "Daddy issues come in later." It was obvious that Ziva wanted to talk more about it, but regardless she let it drop and instead nodded.

When that moment passed, you actually ended up having a regular conversation. You spoke about your team back home, and how strange it was to not be working with them for a little while, and she spoke about the MCRT and how close everyone was, the basic things you’d need to know about them all. She promised to somehow introduce you to Ducky and Palmer without taking you to the morgue, despite your assurances that dead bodies didn't gross you out that much due to your line of work, and when you mentioned maybe having drinks with Abby, she had hesitantly asked if you wouldn’t mind her tagging along. You learnt a few of her likes and hobbies, and how extensive her skillset was, and you told her yours similarly. All in all, you spoke until it was almost closing time and the two of you were pretty much the only ones left.  You only noticed after a text came through and you caught a glimpse of the time.

After the two of you laughed softly at yourself for so easily losing the time, you personally left quite a tip as an apology as well as went to the woman behind the counter to apologise for staying so long. She had a strange smile on her face as she assured you it was okay and you were both welcome back any time. As you left, Ziva turned to you with an almost bashful smile “I hope I didn’t bring you too far from where you’re staying.” “No, not really. It’s closer than I thought. Walking distance, actually.” “Oh. Well, maybe I could walk you home then.” In your slight shock, you almost choked on air but managed to cover it up b clearing your throat as you nodded gently. “If it’s not too out of the way.” “It isn’t. And I’d…Like to keep talking to you.” “Um.” You said with a slightly nervous laugh, ducking your gaze away as the irrational gay side of you went a little too far “I’d like that too. Um, let’s go.”

You didn’t so much walk back as you did stroll, taking your time to find out more about her. Similarly to yourself, as you soon realised, she wasn’t very  open to talking about her own father to much. “We haven’t spoken in a while.” Was all she said with a forlorn look that was so slight you almost didn’t catch it. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “It’s better that we don’t.” She explained with a shake of her had before looking to you “I thought Tony would have told you.” “He doesn’t tell me personal stuff about you. I don’t ask and, even if I did, h wouldn’t tell me because he knows it’s not his place.” “How much has Ton actually told you?” “About you?” She nodded and you took a deep breath, trying to recall some of the things as though you hadn’t paid extra attention. “He told me that you are, now ex, Mossad, and that you have more talents and abilities than he could imagine. You’re funny and kind and you actually remember a lot of the little things even if you pretend you don’t sometimes.” The almost bashful look she had made you smile “And you’re an amazing cook. “He said that?” She asked with a smile. “Yea. Apparently, everyone thinks so.” You couldn’t seem to help yourself before you said “Maybe I’ll be able to see just how true that is, before I leave.” Looking over at her almost hopefully, you found that she was already looking at you. You anxiously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, which drew her gaze downwards for a second before she looked away suddenly. “I, uh, I suppose so. If you want to.” “Well, of course. I want to know what Tony’s been bragging about for you.” Ziva chuckled softly and nodded. “Then I hope we’ll have the time.”

She carried on walking with you, all the way to your door, and you felt almost nervous as you turned to her “I’ve not given you too far a trip, have I?” “Not at all. I’ve enjoyed today.” “So have I. You’re very good company.” Ziva’s smile to you made your heart flip and your cheeks warm, but she seemed to catch up to herself and cleared her throat almost awkwardly. “I should probably go, leave you to the rest of your day.” You wanted to say that you had nothing planned, and invite her in, but instead you just nodded. “Yea, sure. I’ll see you later then.” “I look forward to it.” When she was out of view, that’s when you went into your apartment

You got your phone out to actually answer the text from earlier. It was from a friend back home, Robin, asking how your ‘date’ had gone. With a sigh, you replied. It wasn’t a date. And it was nice, I just got back. The reply was almost instantaneous, though they should have been working. Like hell it wasn’t a date. You’ve been way too excited for today for it not to be a date. Well it wasn’t. Are you meeting up again? Probably, yea. You didn’t voice your ‘hopefully’, because that would only reinforce Robin’s idea that it was a date. And, if part of that hope was for some form of date with Ziva, you definitely weren’t going to mention it.

Your hope seemed to be rewarded, at least a bit, since not only did Ziva ask you to dinner again but she’d even accepted the two of you meeting up before work for coffee. Both of them in the following week, and both went pretty well. Neither of you spoke much about your past, though when you said the little that you did of your biological family and vaguely why you ended up adopted by the Dinozzo’s, she opened up a little about her own family; Primarily her sister and  the tragic event that occurred. Rather than dwelling on either of those subjects, you both filled the silence with basic catching up as though you were old friends, or told each other tales about your respective teams or what you could of cases and occasionally ones specific to Tony.

The messages you got from Robin were highly similar; “Wow, you got a second date, good on you”  “Third date and no kiss? You’re playing hard to get”. You knew they were meant well and that Robin was just playing off the highly obvious crush you had. Tony, meanwhile, was as oblivious as he always had been about your affections and rather decided to joke that you couldn’t be bothered making friends so were trying to steal his. You just make it worse, on purpose of course, by asking him to pass your number on to Abby in case she wanted to actually meet up for drinks. That got a paper ball thrown at your head but a text from Abby the next day showed that he didn’t really mind at all.

Not even two weeks later, after making plans with Abby a few times that always fell through due to work on both sides, you had a late start so decided to make a trip up to Tony with breakfast that you knew he probably had skipped. While you were waiting, you decided to get at least a coffee for everyone else just to be kind. So you set off to NCIS with five cups of coffee, a big cup of Caff-pow, and a little bag of croissants that were on sale, as well as Tony’s breakfast. Luckily for you, everyone (but Abby) was in the pen as you popped up in the lift “Peanut!” Tony exclaimed happily at seeing you, his smile widening even more at the sight of the coffee “Oh, please tell me that one of those is for me.” He groaned. “More than just that.” You trilled as you handed him his coffee, marked with a T, and his breakfast muffin. He again groaned his appreciation and blew you a kiss as you went to Ziva’s desk and put her coffee on the desk with a little smile. She mirrored it as she thanked you and took the offered croissant. Then Gibbs, you’d guessed he preferred black coffee and, judging by the small nod he gave you as you handed McGee his, you guessed right. McGee took a croissant as well, but Gibbs needed a bit more coaxing. “Look at you. The breakfast fairy.” Tony teased, which earned him a childish reply of you sticking your tongue out at him “What do you want?” “Can I not just visit when I have time, Junior?” Sighing, you leaned against Ziva’s desk since it was the closest, and crossed your arms “I wanted to just say Hey again. I mean, I know you’re probably busy but...” You shrugged softly, almost getting anxious before Ziva spoke up. “Not just yet.” You turned to see her, fiddling slightly with a pen as she looked up at you “The Director told us to ‘hang tight’, for something.” “Oh. Guess I’m lucky then.” “I’d say we’re luckier.” The way that she smiled up at you made you start to blush so you quickly turned your gaze away and ducked your head as you turned your empty cup in your hand. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Abby’s Caf-Pow poking out slightly from your bag and you sighed. “Would it be okay to go down and see Abby? I got her something as well.” You got a nod of confirmation from Gibbs so thanked him softly and stood “Won’t be that long.” You promised and set off to the elevator. “I’ll come with you.” Ziva said quickly, standing just as suddenly while taking up her jacket and taking a shirt from her bag “I need to give this back to her, before I forget.”

Though you’d been closer to her, such as when you were walking with her, you hadn’t been in such a confined space with her other than your car that first time but you were unconscious for most of that, so you were almost nervous as the doors closed in front of you. Thankfully, Ziva spoke up first “It was very nice of you, to bring us coffee.” “Well, I was going to bring Tony some things anyway.” You duck your head to hide your cheeks just in case they started to grow red “And I thought I’d get in everyone’s good books.” “You’re already firmly in mine.”  She teases, nudging you with a soft chuckle that you echo almost nervously. “There’s no harm in making sure.” Before she can say much else, though you’re sure that she wants to with how she looks at you, the doors open and you both step out to enter Abby’s lab.

Just as the first time, Abby was listening to her music and was bopping around but this time she saw you almost instantly and perked up instantly. Turning the music down, she grinned a shining smile at you “Hi again.” She trilled and hugged you softly “What’s brought you here?” “Bringing you this.” You brandished the Caf-Pow from the bag and Abby looked at it like it was all she needed to live before taking it. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I needed this today.” She took a deep gulp instantly and groaned “I barely slept last night. You won’t want to know why.” But of course, her saying that made you more eager to know. You barely had any chance to talk before she again perked up “Oh, I was going to text you tonight; I can definitely make it for Friday night, if you can.” “I, uh…” You paused and thought it through then nodded “Yea, I should be able to.” “Finally!” Abby grinned and sighed with a shake of her head “Only took a few weeks.” “What’s on Friday night?” Ziva asked, evidently confused with her frown. “We were planning to go for some drinks.” Abby shrugged casually, and you took a second before turning to Ziva. “You could come, if you want.” Then you looked back to Abby “If that’s okay.” “Oh, of course. More the merrier, it’ll be fun.” “It could be nice, yes.” Ziva nodded just slightly “I’d like that.” “Great.” You smiled widely, almost forgetting to hide how actually excited you were to be able to spend more time with Ziva, and she gave you a soft smile herself that made your heart flutter. You almost forgot Abby was there until she broke you out of your reverie by asking Ziva why she was visiting her little lair.

Friday night came far sooner than you thought it would and, before you even realised it, you were stood in front of your bathroom mirror and doing your makeup as neatly as you could. Your hair was already on point, and your outfit was purposefully picked to be quite flattering to your form, and you were very happy with how you looked to the point that you didn’t even think of changing anything. The muttered confident words of encouragement that you gave yourself were just between you and the mirror as you checked yourself out until you had to go to the bar. You walked it there, not too far really, and you could easily get an uber or a cab back if you had to. Abby and Ziva were already waiting for you as you got there and the second that she saw you, Abby let out a ‘whoo!’ and clapped “You look amazing. I mean, you look amazing anyway but wow.” “Thank you.” You laughed nervously before looking over the two of them, turning you breathless with how they looked “You two are absolutely gorgeous.” “Charmer.” Abby teased and then forcefully looped her arm in yours to lead you into the bar with Ziva at her other side “Now, let’s have some fun, we deserve it.”

The first round was on Abby, she got to choose as well which was an experience. While you were waiting for her, you again looked over Ziva. Of course, she was beautiful, how could she ever be anything less? Her dress had only thin straps, didn’t dip any lower than to show just a slight amount of cleavage, and stopped at her knee though almost clung to her hips. And, of all things you could go goo-goo over, it was her shoulders that really got to you; her shoulders and her neck were causing you to already get flustered, thoughts of kissing her and taking your time to nuzzle against her neck and just… Evidently, she caught you staring and smiled a little, confused “Are you okay?” “Hmm?” You asked, perking up and looking at her. “Are you okay? You were…staring.” “Oh. I’m…I’m fine, I was just thinking, I didn’t even realise.” Lies. You realised, you were just too lost in your own mind to really do anything about it. But your smile seemed to sate her and she just nodded with a smile of her own "I'm glad we could do this today." "So am I. Me and Abby make plans quite a lot but we haven't had the chance to actually go out until today." "Well, for the sake of my ego I'll say I'm the reason for that." You teased, and she laughed. "I can't say you're not the reason." She muttered softly, almost inaudible under the music but you caught it and that set you off blushing again. Thankfully, in some ways, it was a hot bar so you could use that as an excuse. When Abby came back with the drinks, not even twenty seconds later, she looked between the two of you and smiled slyly as she placed the drinks down "Here we go, let's see how you deal with these." "We said nothing too crazy, Abs." "I know, and it's not. It's just...got a special something."

That special something was quite a kick of sour lemon that made you and Ziva start coughing as Abby laughed in pure glee. Certainly an icebreaker, at least, as you instantly got into a conversation about how that should not be allowed which lead to your own personal tastes, which, eventually and somehow, lead to your personal life. You mentioned your boarding school days, a few things about Tony that Ziva already knew but that she and Abby could probably tease him about in the right way, and got to know the girls a little better as well.

"How long have you been in the FBI?" Abby asked and you sighed as you thought about it. "Quite a few years now. Not as many as Tony in NCIS but...still." "What military branch were you in?" Ziva's eyes widened. "You were military?" She asked suddenly, before you could answer, and you nodded once. "Mhm. I forgot to tell you that, didn't I?" The nod that Ziva gave was almost like she was insulted "To be fair, I didn't think it was that important. Tony loves to brag about it, for some reason, but I just...it doesn't come up and I don't go out of my way to make it." A worried frown crossed your face as you looked over to Ziva "That doesn't change anything, right?" "Oh, no, of course not." The way she looked at you, however, seemed like it had changed a little "It does help explain how you're so observant though." "I had to be." You shrugged "It's a habit by now, to notice things." Abby scoffed a little, suddenly, and you looked over "What?" "Nothing, nothing. I just...remembered something that McGee said yesterday, that's all." Bullshit. You didn't mention it, just pulled a face at her that showed just how much you believed that, before going back to try another sip of the drink. Thankfully it was only small, and you did adapt to the sour taste quite quickly. When you all were finished with that round, the conversation lasted a few more minutes before Abby seemed to realise that there were no drinks so piped up that it was someone else's turn. Instinctively, you held your fist and palm out to Ziva. Of course with her being around Tony she recognised the gesture so repeated it and you did a best-of-three go of rock-paper-scissors that ended with you losing so you went to get drinks. Despite asking what they wanted, Abby insisted on 'Surprise us' as an option above all. So surprise them you did; you got a drink that you had only heard of in movies and had no idea what it really was so you'd all have an experience with it.

What you didn't expect to come back to was a whispering Ziva and Abby, who hushed the second Ziva saw you coming back with the mystery drinks. It didn't cause you that much of an anxiety, as though they were talking shit about you, and you just smiled as you placed the drinks down "We're all going to be surprised with this one, I have no idea what I got." Ziva thanked you with a laugh, but before you could even sit down Abby looked over to you with a curious pout. "Are you gay?" Luckily you hadn't started to drink, otherwise you were sure it'd be shocked out of you and through your nose. Much like it had with Ziva, who coughed out a 'fuck' as she tried to get rid of the apparently fruity liquid from her nose. "Abby." She scolded softly but you just nodded, with a pretty heavy blush. "Uh, yes. I, I am. Is it obvious?" "Not too much. I had a feeling so I thought I'd ask." "Your gaydar was pretty on point there." You joked and Abby laughed as she took a drink, suddenly humming in surprised pleasure as she got her first taste of it. "These are actually pretty good, good choice." You couldn't help but agree when you tried it yourself and, though Ziva did look a little sheepish, the conversation carried on.

After that was Ziva's turn to get the drinks, and Abby just quizzed you a little more to get to know you as much as she could. Then the cycle went once more, and about an hour and a half later it was Ziva's turn again. Abby had an almost sinister smile on her face, from the time you came back with the last round, so you were quite worried when she turned straight to you the minute that Ziva was out of earshot "So." She said. "Yea?" "You have a crush on Ziva." "What?" You asked, wide eyed instantly and heart flipping almost in fear actually. When people used to figure out your crushes, it didn't usually go that well. "It's okay, you can tell me. I mean, it's a little obvious." "Oh my god, does she know?" "Oh, no, she's clueless. She's as clueless as you." She dismissed that with a wave of her hand "You should tell her." "I...I don't know. Isn't she straight?" "Not...totally. I think. I think it's worth a shot." She said, sing-songy, and you scrunched your face up in thought. "I don't-" "-Hey, I know what I'm talking about. Just...trust me?" How could you refuse. For one, you had all of Tony's stories of her, and what you knew of her from tonight, and for two you had just enough drinks in you that you were a little more open to it than you usually would be, so you nodded. "Okay. I don't know when I could." "Tonight, silly." She elbowed you just on the right side of too hard with a smile "The sooner you do it, the sooner you can get to it." She wiggled her eyebrows and you groaned out a laugh. "Jeez, Abby." "What?" Ziva asked, smiling a little, with the drinks in hand. "Abby's just being crude." "I was nothing of the sort." She exclaimed, but her smile on her face said otherwise. Ziva seemed to understand so just nodded. "And she spends time with nuns." "Wow." You laughed, but the side-eye that Abby gave you made you hide your red cheeks around your glass.

Maybe you shouldn't have been so surprised that, after finishing that drink, Abby made her excuses to leave you and Ziva there. She also insisted that you two stay and hang out for as long as you wanted, and that she'd be fine getting home. The look she shot to you after it showed you that this was your opportunity and that she would Judge You if you didn't take it. As said before, you were probably tipsy enough to actually take it. That wasn't to mean that you wouldn't have another drink or two before that, however "Want another?" You asked. After a second, she nodded once and smiled. "I don't see why not." "Be right back." You winked before hurrying off to the bar. As you waited for the drinks, you took that time to think back; Was there a chance that Ziva liked you?

Sure she smiled a lot around you, she would bump into you as she laughed, and she'd pretty much memorised your usual coffee order as you had hers, but there wasn't anything definitive. She had shifted plans around for you and woken up early on her last day off so she could have coffee with you before you went to work, sometimes she'd fall asleep messaging you and you'd wake up to an apologetic message that she hadn't meant to just pass out on you like that. You'd gone to dinner with her more times than you expected to and each time she asked you had some sort of undertone that made your heart flip but your consciousness scold you for being way too quick to jump to conclusions. The more you thought about it, the wider your eyes got as you realised that there might be something there, that maybe the dinners were dates

You plastered on a smile as you walked back to the table, not faltering in a step despite how much time you still needed to figure your tactic out. Ziva seemed quite uncomfortable, almost conflicted, herself and your smile melted into a comforting one as you sat a little closer to her than before "You okay?" "Yes, yes, I was just thinking." "Don't hurt yourself." You chuckled with a soft nudge to her side. She smiled widely in return and then sighed, taking a mouthful of her drink as you just fiddled a little with your own glass "Ziva, I, uh, can I tell you something?" Her eyes widened in almost a fear that you instantly saw and hurried to calm down "Nothing bad. Nothing bad, I promise." Your reassuring smile made her take a breath and nod. "Sure, what is it?" "I...like you. Not like a friend, sort of in...the gay way." God, maybe you should have taken another few seconds to think this through, to be a little less '13 year old with their first crush' and more of an actual grown-up. You buried your head in your hands and groaned "Fuck, that wasn't...how I wanted to say it, can I try again?" "I like you too. The gay way." "Really?" You asked with a hopeful little laugh, eyes bright suddenly "Even after I completely ruined that?" "Even after that." She giggled, reaching out to touch your hand in comfort. The contact, however innocent, made you blush and duck your head. "Okay. Um. Good." Nodding, you stared at the table and your untouched drink in silence for a second or two before looking back up to her with a sentence in mind. When you saw her already looking at you, however, all words left your mind yet she seemed to have it covered. "I've been trying to...Ask you on a date for a while." "Oh." You chuckled, having had the same thoughts as well. Then you paused and frowned just slightly "Were...any of the dinners we had meant to be dates?" From the look on her face, almost a little enlightened, you guessed that she hadn't thought about that. "Maybe a couple." "Does that mean I can kiss you?" Ziva was quiet for a second, just looking over your face and lingering her gaze at your lips, before she breathed out her reply. "Please." Though hesitating a little, you did shift closer slightly and lean forwards to kiss her gently.

While it was quite chaste and almost as innocent as the first kiss you'd had, the way that her hand came up to the side of your neck made your heart flutter in a way that she just seemed to love doing without realising it. You didn't open your eyes for a good three seconds as you moved away, when she chuckled and tapped your jaw with her thumb. Your eyes locked with hers, glistening with her smile, and you quickly ducked your gaze away from her. Without a word, she stroked her hand under your chin and tipped your head back up to guide you into a second kiss that was a little more. "I think-" She said softly as you pulled away the little that you did "-that we should go on a proper date. Tomorrow?" "I'd love to." You smiled, bordering on a grin, as you hesitantly sat back and took up your drink.

When you woke up the next morning, not as hungover as you could have been, it took you a second to really catch yourself up mentally on what had happened with Ziva and the second that you did there was a surge of joy that scrunched your whole face up with a smile. You squealed, like an anime schoolgirl, and kicked about happily on your bed before suddenly stopping and splaying out while staring at the ceiling with a deep sigh.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 7)

Bakugo x Reader 

Who let the dogs out!

Words : 2489 

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

You had your headphones in. Listening to a podcast while you did your daily physical therapy. You were almost done. Only a week left and you could technically be cleared for hero work. Key work being technically. 

It was something you and Bakugo had been discussing at great length recently. For obvious reasons he would be totally okay if you retired from being a hero, but he knows that he can’t put you in a bubble nor should he keep you from your dream job. 

You were proud of him for even considering it an option. He understood what it was like to be a hero, and he understood how hard it would be to quit. He also knew first hand how hard you had worked to get to where you were and it’d be a shame for your career to but cut short. 

The thing was.... you weren't sure. You absolutely loved being a hero, but you were sill having a hard time with the psychological repercussions of being shot. No matter how hard you tried you still freaked out over loud noises and you hated going outside alone. You just had this weird irrational fear that they were going to come back and finish the job. 

You hadn't voiced these worries to anyone. You were nervous that if you said it out loud they would think you were unstable and then you would be permanently benched. Doomed to desk jobs and paperwork. 

You wrapped up your workout and headed back to the apartment. You kept your headphones in while you walked which Katsuki scolded you for constantly. Saying it was dangerous and anyone could sneak up on you. But you couldn't help it. Drowning out all the noises of the city that made you jumpy was imperative to make sure you got home without having an episode. 

Usually once you got within a mile or two of home you would just teleport. Ever since you woke up your range had been much larger. You decided that it must be like a muscle. The more you used it the stronger it got. Teleporting all those girls out that night had pushed you into the miles range now. Although you have no idea how you ever managed 15 miles, let alone how you did it on accident. 

Today was a nice day though so you decided to just walk. 

You were probably a block or two from home when a hand came out of no where and grabbed your shoulder. Panic seized you for a few short moments before your instincts kicked in. You raised your arm and swung out to hit your attacker. But it did no good because they just caught your arm with one hand and ripped your headphone out with the other. “And that is how easy it would be for someone to attack you when you walk around with headphones in.” 

You rolled your eyes at the familiar red head as you teleported to the other side of Kirishima. “And that’s how easy it is for me to get away... Did Bakugo ask you to do that?”

He just chuckled, “No he didn't, but he did send me to tell you his phone got destroyed today while he was chasing down an arsonist. He’s going to be late tonight and might possibly pull some extra hours and work a graveyard shift.” 

You pouted slightly at the thought of being home alone the rest of the night. “Well I was going to make some dinner, you are more than welcome to join.” 

Kirishima narrowed his eyes at you, “Say we can order in and I’m down. No offense but I’ve heard stories about your cooking and I’m not really in the mood for food poisoning.”

You leaned over and started slapping his shoulder repeatedly, “Bakugo is a fucking liar! I am a perfectly good cook! He just never lets me!” 

Kirishima started laughing as he acted like he was going to put you in a headlock, “Whatever you say Y/n. Lets just order anyways. It’ll be my trea- AHH!” 

Kirishima let go of you in an instant as you looked down to see a small german shepherd that was probably no more than a year old with his teeth sank into Kirishima’s pant leg. “What the hell! Where did he come from?” He shook his leg a few times. Not really bothered by it considering it didn't break through his hard skin. When he finally shook the dog off it immediately backed up until his butt was practically between your legs facing Kirishima almost as if it was daring him to come any closer. “Well would you look at that? I think you have a friend there Y/n.”

You tentatively reached down and scratched the dog on his head. He softened at your touch and his tail started to wag. “He must have thought you were trying to hurt me... He doesn't have a collar.... Maybe I could -”

“Y/n so help me if the next words out of your mouth are take it home.. Bakugo will flip.” 

You smirked, “Well thats what he gets for leaving home alone. You know I’d call and ask him, but wouldn't you know it, I don't think his phone is working.” 

“Oh boy... you’re lucky he loves you.” 

It took no coercion to get the dog to follow you home. In fact all you had to do was say “Come on boy” and he followed you the whole way home like the literal puppy dog he was. 

Once you got him inside you made a little makeshift bed for him out of and old blanket of yours. You used a damp towel to get some dirt off of his paws. Katsuki was very compulsive about keeping a clean and organized home. If he came home to muddy paw prints on his hardwood floors it would be game over. 

You sat on the floor and the pup ran over and plopped down in your lap. His tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth while his tail was going a mile a minute. “Who’s a good boy? Huh? Is it you? Are you a good boy?” 

He flipped over and showed you his belly and gave a soft woof as is to confirm that he was in fact a good boy. 

“He already seems to be attached to you.” Kiri had a worried look on his face. 

“Well good because I’m already attached to him too. And I’ve already decided I don't care what Suki thinks. We’re keeping him.” 

Kirishima just rubbed his neck, “If you say so. I’m going to order us some food. You want me to order him some white rice or something?”

“Oh! Good idea! With chicken too! Make sure you tell them no seasoning though. Completely bland. We don't want him to get an upset tummy. We need to make a good first impression and I don't think pooping on the floor would be the quickest way to Katsuki’s heart.” 

“Well if there's anyone who knows the secret access codes to Bakugo’s heart it’d be you. Just do me a favor and don’t get your hopes up too high. I know he loves you and all. But you and I both know he doesn't like surprises, or messes.... or anything that cant take care of itself...” 

You snorted, “Well I guess we’ll consider this practice for a baby.”

Kirishima dropped his phone... “Baby? Did you just say Baby? You're not like...” he motioned to his stomach with wide eyes. 

“Oh no! Sorry no I didn't mean like right now. But you know eventually I’d like to have kids. This could be good practice for him.” 

He looked relieved, “I hate to break it to you I don't think Bakugo has a paternal bone in his body.” 

You shrugged, “I didn’t think he had it in him to be a good boyfriend either yet here we are. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

He seemed to think that over a bit, “Yeah I guess that’s true. I always knew you two would end up together though. He never shut up about you at UA. He was always, ‘Did you see y/n today at training? She looked so good!’ ‘Hey do you think if I asked y/n to study she would think it’s weird?’ and my personal favorite , ‘If one more fucking extra looks at her ass I swear to god I’m blowing the place up!’”

Your eyes widened, “Okay fist of all that is probably the best Bakugo impression I have ever heard. Spot on my friend. And second of all.... NO FUCKING WAY? Was he really like that? All I remember is him pushing me around and yelling at me in training.” 

“Oh he was smitten from day one. He could hide it from everyone but me.” 

Your food arrived and you and Kirishima continued to swap stories from UA. You telling him all about the behind the scenes gossip you and Mina would get into about him and he told you about all the times Bakugo almost asked you out but chickened out. It was a good night. 

He walked outside with you as you let your new, still nameless puppy go potty. Then he took off to go home. Saying he couldn't wait to tell Mina all the new things he learned about her. You just chuckled and waved goodbye. 

Now it was time for the tricky part. Every time you would crawl into bed the puppy would hop up as well. He would curl up to your side and it was so cute. But you couldn't push your luck so you would pick him up and put him on his blanket on the floor. Then a few minutes later he was back in the bed. 

The cycle continued for a while before you finally just got on the floor and cuddled with him until he fell asleep. Then you gently go up and snuck into bed. Not that it mattered because right as you fell asleep he jumped up and laid down near the end of the bed. Keeping your feet nice and warm. Everything was going alright until around 5 am when your boyfriend finally got home. 

“OI! What the fuck is this?” 

You bolted upright to see your dog now standing over you protectively, head bowed low as he followed Bakugo’s every movement with his eyes. 

“Hey don't yell! He doesn't like it.” You gave the dog an affectionate pat on his head and he seemed to calm down a bit. 

“Oh well forgive me if I hurt some random ass dogs feelings. Where the fuck did it come from? Who does it belong too?” 

You started to look anywhere but at Katsuki. Mindlessly petting the dog as your nerves settled, “Well Kiri walked me home as I expect you asked him to and we were kinda play fighting and this dog came out of no where and basically attacked Kiri to get him away from me because he thought he was hurting me. But he's actually really sweet and he seems to really like me and -” 

“Y/n... what the fuck where you thinking? Do you know how much responsibility a dog is?” 

“Well Katsuki I was thinking that now that I’m basically at home alone all day, stressed the fuck out may I add, that it would be nice to have some company. Not only does he like to cuddle but he’s also a perfect guard dog! Wouldn't you feel better on overnight shifts knowing that he’s here to help keep me safe?” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Y/n....” 

“Please Suki... We’ve already bonded. Honestly I think he would really help with my anxiety. I haven't really told you because I didn't want you to worry... but I’ve been a little... uh nervous.. leaving the house. And I feel like It would be easier if I had him with me. Pleaaaaaaaaase”

He sat on the edge of the bed and scratched the dog behind the ear, “Have you named it yet?” 

You beamed at him, “No not yet, I wanted your help. I’ll name him Lord Explosion Murder if you want I don't even care I just want to keep him...” 

He smirked, “That won't be necucesaay... What about Lucifer? Because I swear this dog is the devil. He tried to corner me in my own apartment when I came home.. You were right about him being a good guard dog.” 

“Does this mean we can keep him?!” You practically held your breath while you waited for an answer. 

“Uh I guess. But you’re the one that needs to take care of him. I already have to take care of you. I’m at my limit..” 

You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Oh my gosh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you so much! You're the best boyfriend ever!” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. So what are going to call him?” Katsuki climbed in bed next to you and pulled you to him. The dog settling in by your feet again. 

“Not that Lucifer isn't a great name babe but you know I was kind of thinking about Zuko. He’s our favorite character from Avatar the Last Airbender and he’s a fire bender kind of like you so... I don't know. I guess I just kind of liked it.” 

He huffed, “I don't bend fire y/n. My sweat explodes. Hence the name Lord Explosion Murder.... but yeah.. I guess I could get on board with that.”

Later that morning you could hear the door softly close as you assumed Katsuki took Zuko out to go to the bathroom. Already doing exactly what he said he wasn't going to do. When he came back inside you could hear him talking to Zuko as if he were a human. 

“Alright so I’m only letting you stay because she likes you. As if she really thought I was going to tell her no. She took three bullets for me and thought I’d tell her she couldn't have a dog... yeah right. I’d give her ten dogs if that’s what she really wanted.” 

The sound of him filling up a bowl of water echoed from the kitchen, “But don't get too comfy because you have a job to do. You need to be the man of the house when I’m not around. And don't for a second think you can steal my cuddle time when I get home at night. You have her all damn day. When I get home it’s my turn... You got that?” 

There was a faint sound of Zuko panting as if they had gone for a run, “I guess you are kind of cute..” 

[doomstypewriter]

Helpless Au - A draft fragment

This is my Prinxiety ghost/haunted mansion AU. 

More about the AU

If anyone wants to be tagged on posts regarding the AU, please, just comment, I’ll be thrilled. 

Helpless Au - A draft fragment: In which Logan saves Virgil’s life from a situation worse than social interaction and, thus, they become best friends. 

This is written quickly, because it’s a draft, not to say that it’s poorly written (although that would be for each one to judge), just that some transitions are fast as a means to tell efficiently what’s going on. 

CW: Persecution, swearing, anxiety on Virgil’s part (but that is to be expected). Nothing more I can think of (don’t hesitate to tell me if you find anything else). 

Word count: 2069 (heh, you know what that means). 

Virgil goes down the pathway that takes him out of the grounds of Patton’s house. Even though the sun is still setting, there’s a certain degree of darkness because the clouds have turned black. A pouring is about to start, Virgil rushes so he doesn’t get caught in it on his way back to the mansion. 

He reaches the dirt path that’s beside the road, he ought to be in the mansion in a matter of five minutes, provided that he walks at a decent pace. Patton’s house is relatively near the mansion, but, for starters, Patton’s garden and the mansion’s are equally enormous, and, secondly, the access that connects them by road, the only way to come back without jumping a fence (which wouldn’t have been an ideal first impression for Patton’s grandma, but, now that Virgil knows her, perhaps the strange woman would have found it hilarious), is quite twisted. 

Virgil sees a person walking in the distance. He doesn’t really care for it, he simply internally prays that they won’t speak to him. Social interaction would be worse than anything. ANYTHING. 

Predictably, it begins to rain and Virgil quickly gets his folding umbrella out of his backpack. Quite a thoughtful present from his dad, not to mention the cool design with a giant white skull on a black background. He keeps on walking whilst thinking ‘fuck, my converse are turning into soup. Heh, my converse are at soup. But, for real, this is horrible’. 

After a while he realises that the person from before is keeping the same distance and Virgil proceeds to methodically overthink it: ‘they don’t have an umbrella, how is it that they aren’t walking faster? They’re getting drenched!’. He asks himself too where are they even going, taking into account that the only thing ahead is the mansion. In the end, Virgil chooses to walk faster. So does whoever. This is when Virgil lets go off his umbrella and RUNS. 

Our favourite emo searches for his phone, but lo and behold, it’s not anywhere to be found. The memory hits him like a brick ‘OH SHIT I MUST HAVE FORGOT IT AT PATTON’S. COOL. I’M GOING TO DIE’. The stalker keeps on running and jumps over the umbrella, sprinting towards him.

Suddenly, a bike races by and skids into a stop with a deafening sound of the brakes. Logan is on that bike. 

He looks at Virgil with a deadly serious expression and tells him to hop on. Virgil runs for the bike and gets on holding onto Logan. 

Logan starts pedaling like a bat out of hell. THANK EVERYTHING THAT LOGAN’S LEGS ARE LONG. 

“Sorry for not bringing a spare helmet, I wasn’t prepared for this happening”.

“Honestly, I don’t fucking care. You just saved my life”. 

Would you look at that, there was something worse than social interaction after all. The universe must love him dearly to correct him in such a kind way. 

“I wouldn’t exactly say so, but that man running after you is certainly distressing”. 

“Light way to put it”. 

“You’re right. It was scary. We ought to call the police as soon as possible”. 

“You bet. What the fuck was that?” 

“I don’t know. Oh, on the subject of calling, you left your phone at Patton’s”.

“Yeah, I found out while I was being chased. Honestly, thank god for my forgetful ass”. 

Logan laughs loudly. 

“Indeed”. 

“I won’t tell Patton you laughed”. 

“Thank you”. 

“No, thank YOU, man”. 

They arrive at the mansion completely soaked. He asks Logan for his phone and calls Janus to open the door. 

After a while, the entrance door swings open. 

Janus starts by saying: “Sorry if you rang the doorbell, I was in my room and I didn’t…” that’s when he takes a proper look at his brother and Logan and is worried sick. The only thing he can ask, obviously, is: “WHAT HAPPENED?!”

Virgil explains, not gladly, none of the events could quite get him in the mood, the world shall be left wondering why. 

Janus tells him to take Logan to one of the bathrooms and let him borrow some clothes so he can get the shower he so desperately seems to be needing and also instructs him to do the same while he calls the police and their father. 

The sound of keys then is heard. Janus mentally tells himself ‘one less call, then’. 

The father enters frantically asking for Virgil, two umbrellas in his hand. 

He sees him wet from head to toe in the hall with his friend and runs to hug his son. 

“I saw your umbrella laying on the road on my way here. Thank god you’re fine. What happened?” he asks while looking at his sons and Logan. 

Janus gestures him while on the phone and mouths an ‘I’m on it’. 

“Okay, tell me after getting a shower, both of you. Lend him some clothes, you can take some of mine if they don’t fit. Oh, hello, by the way, I’m Virgil’s dad” he says as he offers his hand.  

Logan gladly takes it. Yes, gladly, because social acceptance and interaction are quite refreshing from his usual interpersonal awkwardness. 

“Greetings as well, I’m Logan, and I’m Virgil’s…” he thinks about how to phrase it properly but Virgil simply cuts him. 

“He’s my friend, dad”. 

“Oh, gosh, you made a new friend! That’s great son! Well, we can talk later, go get that shower”. 

“Okay. Follow  me Logan”. 

They both climb the main stairs and turn to the block of rooms to the left. 

Logan talks about the architecture all the way. They go up the spiral staircase. He mentions that the painting of the house that hanged in front of the stairs looks like an impressionist depiction of a British manor of the sixteenth century. Virgil blinks like on a vine and asks him how does he know that. 

“I have an appreciation for architecture”. 

“Just as you do for poetry”. 

“Indeed”.

They reach the bathroom of the second floor. 

Virgil tells him that he’ll go to his room to fetch some clothing and might leave it on a chair outside or in the bedroom nextdoor. 

“I’ll see you at the living-room”. 

“How can I find it?” 

“Go downstairs back to the hall and then to the left, it’s the room with the big ass stage”.

“That seems a little excessive”.

“Yeah, the dude who made the house was extra af”. 

The police arrives and takes their statement. A middle aged woman and her young male partner question them. The partner looks kind of goofy but pays full attention, the lady, on the other side, looks like she is done with life after having seen too much shit, but she is really nice. 

“Look, guys, I’m going to be honest with ya. It’s hard to tell if we may find whoever did that, because you haven’t seen their face. Without that, there isn’t that much we can do to find them. Pressing charges is hardly possible because they did not assault you nor pulled out a gun. What they did to you was bad, and I’d love to be able to help more, but I cannot tell you how this is going to turn out, it’s a tricky situation”. 

“Excuse me, ma'am, but, hadn’t I arrived when I did, anything could have happened to my friend. It is most distressing to have someone chase you down and I can’t make out what their intentions would be to do such a thing if the individual didn’t plan something nasty”. 

“We know it’s unfair, well make sure to catch them!” the goofy-looking guy answers this time.  In his righteous enthusiasm he coughs a few times. 

“Asthma too?”. 

The guy looks at him awkwardly and nods. 

“Can I speak to you alone, son?” the lady asks Virgil. 

“Sure”. 

They leave the room to the corridor of high ceilings that connects it to the library and the main dining room. The voice of his father and Ethan are coming from the library, discussing their shared worries. The talking ends as soon as they hear them. 

“Why do you think that person was chasing you?” 

“How could I know? Am I in trouble for something?” 

“Uuuugh” she pinches the bridge of her nose “shit, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Look, if anything remotely weird has happened, that could link to that person chasing you I need to know, I want you guys to be safe. It’s never a good sign to be chased by someone on a lonely road. Tell me, it’s my understanding that you and your family have been here for a month, has anything out of the ordinary occurred? Something that could alarm you?”

“I’m the kind of person that is alarmed by mostly anything so you’ll have to be more specific”.

“I’m also that kind of person, Virgil, so I hope you understand what I tell you when I say that there’s the ordinary kind of alarming; like the fear forgetting about closing your front door, and finding that door open after you made sure to check it was closed”. 

Virgil breathes in with tension. He feels watched. Not precisely by his family, which is odd. Who else would be watching? Damn, this hypervigilance thing was driving him nuts. Although, this once it made total sense, the situation had been a perfect brew for anxiety. 

“Would you mind following me elsewhere?” 

“Sure”. 

On their way upstairs, to the tower room, Virgil adds: 

“Okay, I know it seems kinda weird to make you climb all of these stairs and unnecessarily mysterious, but my room is the ‘loneliest place in the castle’ and I don’t want my family to get worried if they overhear this”.

“It’s fine, son, that’s perfectly understandable”. 

They enter the room and the lady whistles in awe. 

“Wow, what a room you got here, I’d wish I’ve had this when I was your age”. 

“Well, you must be the only one”. 

“Why is that?”. 

“Everybody keeps on ranting about how this place is freaky”. 

“Is it?”. 

“No. This and the library are the nicest places in the house. I like being able to see so much”. 

Virgil guides her to one of the windows. 

“Well, with the panoramic view, it’s almost like a watch tower”. “There” Virgil points at the part of Patton’s garden that’s visible. “A few nights ago I spotted a guy talking at a phone, I think he saw me watching him, because when he looked at the tower he immediately left”. 

Later, when the police has left, Logan tells him that he is trans. Why? Well, he has to stay the night because the pouring is more like a violent storm. Also, Patton might kill him if he doesn’t take off his binder, which he put back on in spite of being soaked. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back dude. Here, have this, it’s one of my baggiest”. 

On Virgil’s hand is a giant black zip-up hoodie. 

“It’s not much of my style, and not the most elegant solution, but it will suffice. Although, it is very comfortable and the fabric texture is kind on the skin. Thank you very much. I shall take off my binder and put it on”. 

“Toilet’s over there. Place the binder on the radiator so it dries”. 

Virgil tends to his devices. Logan comes back with the hoodie on, comfy as ever. 

“Are we having a sleepover?” 

“I don’t know. Do you want us to have one?”

“I’m unsure as to if it’s appropriate given the circumstances that brought me here, as well as the fact that I have no expertise on the subject”. 

“Neither do I, but it could be cool. We can have a spooky sleepover, throw some candles here and there and read Edgar Allan Poe or watch some horror films”. “I’m not convinced by the horror films, but, perhaps some Hitchcock would be a suitable replacement suggestion and we may add Bukowski to the least of authors to read”. 

“Sounds fine by me. Maybe we could get Patton on Skype”. 

“I’d enjoy that. On a different note, it’s getting late, we should have dinner”. 

“Uh, sorry, right, you probably didn’t have time at Patton’s”. 

“Not to worry, though, I’m glad I didn’t. Otherwise I wouldn’t have caught you in time”. 

“Ain’t that the truth”.

[gideongrace]

i’d hunt your heart to the ends of the earth

this isn’t even my fault. blame @judasviscariot. really. 

—

It’s a Tuesday night at around 11:30 and it’s raining and Billy is right in the middle of fucking this guy from the bar down the street when another guy, a much prettier one, comes busting into his office all covered in blood and panting and talking about demons.

Billy figures it’s just as well, the guy he’s fucking had just been giving him heart eyes and had asked him where he thought this was going, if they could do this again or maybe go for dinner. In other words, if they could have a future, which had prompted Billy to look at the guy and give him one of his usual lines. This time he’d gone with, “We can do this as many times as you like. I can call you my darling, my love, the only star in my sky. I can play whatever part you want. But we met in a bar an hour ago and I hope you’d know I was only playing a part to get what I want.” Not that Billy’s against romance, just with this guy? After picking him up in a bar? When they don’t even know each other’s names? Really?

This new guy, though. The bright light from the hallway is lighting him up from behind and making him look all soft and ethereal, the way people think angels are supposed to look and Billy thinks, well, fuck.

“I really need your help, please,” the guy says, breathless.

Billy uses this an excuse to stop the very mediocre sex he’d only been counting down the seconds to the end of anyway and hops off his desk to begin looking for his pants. This prompts two reactions: one, for the guy he’d been fucking to grunt, pull his pants up and leave without a word and two, for the new guy to blush in the most delectable way Billy’s ever seen, even with all that blood all over him.

“You know, you should knock next time,” Billy says as he finds then shoves on his pants. 

“There are demons after me, I don’t have the time for polite shit like knocking,” the guy says, taking a step inside the office and closing the door behind him. He runs a hand over his face and through his messy, fluffy, gorgeous brown hair, smearing the blood there all over and adding in some new from his hand.

It makes something clench uncomfortably in Billy’s stomach. Now that he’s got his pants on and is no longer thinking solely with his dick, he notices that there’s blood on this guy’s face, on his neck, on his hands and there’s enough of it on his t-shirt to have changed the color of most of it from blue to near black. In short, it’s everywhere and worse, there’s no source Billy can see, not in this dim, shitty lighting, anyway. He makes a note to yell at his assistant to buy more light bulbs later and grabs the guy by the hand to lead him over to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

That Billy doesn’t know what’s going on worries him, nags at him in a way that has his skin prickling. He doesn’t usually take on new clients this way. This is his office, sure, he deals with demons, sure, and the guy said he’s got demons after him but that’s not the same sort of indicator it once was. This guy might need a demon hunter, yeah. Or he might need a psychiatrist. Or, considering all that blood, a doctor. 

“What happened?” Billy asks as he sits the guy down and kneels in front of him. He puts his hands on the guy’s blood-splattered forearms but his eyes scan the room for the first aid kit he thinks Robin left in here a few weeks ago, after the incident with that small-time demon on 89th street that’d tried to turn her very human leg into something resembling barbeque.

The guy doesn’t say anything, just stares at him, so Billy snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Why are you covered in blood?” he asks. He looks for the first aid kit again and still can’t seem to find it. But looking at this guy more up close, some tiny little first aid kit probably isn’t going to cut it. He probably needs an ambulance and what Billy should be looking for is his phone. 

“It’s not mine,” the guy says, his voice all scratchy. He has that far away look people usually get after seeing their first demon. Or in this case, maybe killing one. At least it’s not his own blood and Billy won’t have to call an ambulance, won’t have to make up some story and won’t have to watch him die. 

But then the problem is the blood he’s covered in doesn’t look like demon’s blood. The guy looks like he’s seen a demon but the lighting in here isn’t so bad that Billy’s confusing human blood for a demon’s. He really hopes this guy hasn’t just snapped, hopes the blood’s not from some poor human schmuck lying dead in an alley after this guy lost his fucking mind. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he really hopes that isn’t it.

“I have a demon after me,” the guy says, soft. Like he doesn’t want to believe it. And that? 

That note of apprehension, like maybe this is all some terrible, crazy dream, like this can’t possibly be happening? It makes Billy want to believe him.

“Well,” Billy says, slapping his hands firmly on the guy’s thighs. “You’ve come to the right place for that. I’m Billy Hargrove and dealing with demons is kinda my thing. What’s your name?“ 

"Steve Harrington,” Steve says. “And I have a demon after me." 

"Yeah, you said that part. A couple of times now, actually. Mind explaining to me why?” Billy gets to his feet and begins looking for his shirt. He finds it, or at least he finds a shirt - he can’t tell if it’s exactly the one he was wearing earlier or not - underneath his desk and puts it on. He walks back over, buttoning his shirt up as he goes. “Please tell me you know why.” This is going to be so much harder if Steve doesn’t know why.

“My girlfriend,” Steve says, sounding more far away than ever. “My fiance, actually…” The way Steve’s voice cracks on the word fiance makes Billy want to kick himself. Of course this guy is attached to someone. Of fucking course he is. 

“She got shot for interviewing a guy accused of killing children. She was trying to prove he didn’t do it and she got shot. She was in this hospital and she was dying and…” The guy closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Billy wishes he’d thought to open a window, it probably reeks of sex in here. It kind of always reeks of sex in here, but…

“And I summoned a demon to save her." 

"And now you don’t want to pay up, right?” Billy phrases it like a question even though it really isn’t one. He’s seen this more times than he can count. People are always making deals they have no intention of fulfilling, always thinking they can sell their souls because they don’t believe in them, thinking that they’ll only have to hand them over once they’ve lived a good, long life. And then they’re always shocked when the price comes due sooner than expected. 

“Actually,” Steve says, the bitterest of smiles playing at his lips, “I’d have paid. That was the plan. He saves her, I give him my soul. Suited me just fine. But the demon didn’t keep its’ end of the bargain.” Steve’s eyes close again for a moment and this time it’s Billy whose taking a deep breath. He knows what Steve’s going to say before he says it. “She died anyway." 

Billy swallows, lets the words he needs roll around on his tongue for a second. He hates this part, hates what he knows this all means. "What exactly was the deal?" 

"It shouldn’t matter the exact specifics,” Steve spits. Suddenly the thousand yard stare is miles away and in its place is a fire that has Billy’s skin itching in a different, entirely more pleasant kind of way. “Demons have to keep up their end of things, don’t they?" 

"Yes,” Billy says, “but what were the words you used exactly?” Demons have to keep their deals, it’s true, but demons are also tricky bastards who know how to get you coming and going. It’s in the name. They’re fucking demons, but somehow, that part usually escapes most people’s notice. 

“I just told you,” Steve says, “He saves my girlfriend and I give him my soul." 

Billy smacks his hand to his face hard enough it hurts. This guy is particularly dumb. And must have been particularly desperate. "Oh my god, you’re like a kid with his father’s gun,” he says. 

“What?” Steve snaps. Billy doesn’t look at him. He can’t. Right now, if he believed in a god, he’d be praying to it. He really doesn’t want to deal with this. 

The universe hates him. He knows it hates him but this is too much.

Billy drops his hand from his face as slowly and as dramatically as he knows how and looks at Steve dead on. “You needed to specify that the demon would keep your girlfriend alive and on this plane. As it is, they haven’t actually broken their end of the deal because you didn’t specify what saving her meant." 

Outside, there’s a roaring that is definitely not the wind and is definitely not the rain and is definitely coming to kill them both.

"And now they’re here.” Billy takes a step towards his weapons and that’s when he realizes it. He’s not wearing any shoes. He’s going to have to fight who knows how many demons in only a few short minutes if that noise they’re making is anything to go by and he’s not wearing any shoes. He doesn’t even know where his shoes are.

What a fucking bad day.

[hymn2000]

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C15

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, family conflict, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, corporal punishment, hurt/comfort

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 15 - A Heart Has Many Secrets

-

Getting ready for school the next morning felt incredibly strange; almost foreign. Getting up early hadn’t been easy. He didn’t have an appetite, which nearly led to a bit of a ding-dong with Loki, who was very insistent he needed to eat anyway. And, as if tensions weren’t high enough, Loki broke the news that he had to go to work so wouldn’t be able to take him to school.

-

Peter wasn’t happy being in the car with Tony, and he made his feelings very clear. He’d become very good at keeping silent since becoming a member of the Stark household. Tony wouldn’t be deterred though, and kept talking, offering unwanted advice, reassurance, and generally chatting away as though he were actually getting an answer from the teen beside him.

Peter tried to dive out of the car as soon as they parked, but Tony grabbed his arm.

“Hey” he said. “Come here”

Tony hugged him, and Peter pulled away furiously. Tony kept hold of his arm a moment longer.

“Be good, sweetheart. I’ll see you after school”

Peter scowled, and Tony reluctantly released him. Peter took great pleasure in slamming the car door behind him. Oddly, as he walked towards the main building, he didn’t feel as though he’d been away all that long. He didn’t feel nervous either. In fact, he felt quite calm; although he was certain he could see huge changes on the horizon - far above what he could imagine.

-

Peter seemed to have inherited Loki’s flare for a low-key but poignant entrance. Oddly, as he walked into his form room, and was met by the shouts and voices of so many, he felt so free. In a way, he felt like a felon who was to be released while everyone else was left behind. Let’s be honest; he’d never quite managed to fit into this high-class school in the way everyone had hoped. And he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure how homeschooling was going to go, but he felt so calm looking at everyone, that he was certain he wasn’t going to miss this.

-

Going to his music lesson after lunch was the only thing that almost made him change his mind about the school. He’d grown to be quite close to Mr James since starting private lessons. Mr James was so down to Earth, so unlike a lot of the other teachers, and so supportive of Peter’s playing, and always seemed impressed with all of his progress.

“It’s good to see you again, kiddo” he said, shutting the practice room door. “How have you been? I heard about what you did”

Peter shrugged noncommittally, but he looked a little embarrassed. 

“Don’t worry” Mr James said, squeezing his shoulder. “I was a right little terror when I was a kid. When I was your age, I’d been expelled four times”

Peter looked at him.

“Yes, really! If someone hadn’t shoved a saxophone into my hands, I probably would’ve got expelled from the last school too! Incredible how much music can help you turn things around”

Peter nodded, sitting down at the piano, running his fingers along the keys. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve had any chance to practice. I hope you’re not too rusty”

“I’ve got one at home now” Peter said, and then started slightly, surprising himself.

It surprised Mr James too. “Nice! I’ve gotta say, kiddo, I imagined your voice a lot different”

Peter could feel himself blushing, but Mr James just smiled.

“It’s nice to hear it. Now, fancy showing me what you’ve been working on?”

Peter swallowed, turning to the piano properly. He felt nervous now, and he was still surprised that his voice had jumped out. But maybe... maybe that meant he could perform properly here. 

Maybe.

But he couldn’t think of what to say, and Mr James could see his hesitation.

“Why don’t you do something we were working on first?” he suggested. “Clair de lune?”

Slow, but long. A good way to ease in. Peter understood his choice. It had been a little while since he’d played anything classical. He watched Mr James find a page in a book and set it in front of Peter. He’d managed to pick up a few notes, but he didn’t really need them. He knew this track well enough; it was so popular. 

It was nice playing it, though. Something so familiar, and calm, but somehow dramatic too. He didn’t feel like he was playing the music, but more like it was playing him; making his fingers glide almost effortlessly across the keys. He started feeling much more relaxed, much less nervous and embarrassed. Maybe he’d miss this. All these calm, practice room moments... 

“...That was perfect” Mr James said. “You’re incredible. I’ve never known someone learn so fast, and so well”

“Thank you...”

“You know, I do lessons outside of school. If you wanted to continue after you leave”

“I... I’d have to ask dad” Peter said, not quite looking at him, his voice small.

“What have you been working on?”

Peter shrugged slightly. He’d been playing a lot since getting the piano, mainly to drown out everything else that was happening. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to play. Maybe something fast, or something complex. Maybe...

“I’ve got one, but it’s kinda... long”

“That’s alright. So was the one we just played. If there’s anything you want to show me, just go ahead. This is your lesson, your learning, and your talent: you don’t have to let other people decide what you do with it”

Peter looked at him. He’d played strange and wonderful things to him before, and he trusted him - both his music judgement and personally.

Mr James listened, unsure if he recognised the tune at first, and then startling when Peter opened his mouth.

“You tell me there's an angel in your tree. Did he say he'd come to call on me? For things are getting desperate in our home, living in the parish of the restless folks I know”

Mr James watched him. He’d only just heard him speak, so finding out that he had a voice - and one like this - was a bit of a shock to say the least.

“Burn down the mission, if we're gonna stay alive. Watch the black smoke fly to heaven, see the red flame light the sky. Burn down the mission, burn it down to stay alive. It's our only chance of living, take all you need-” 

And it carried on like that, with power and passion, and very few wobbles, and all too soon, voice and keys petered out, and the practice room was filled with a moments silence.

Mr James merely leaned closer. “What else have you got?”

Peter couldn’t help but grin, and he knew exactly what to play now. Something a bit tricky. But something he knew well enough after all the times he’d played it.

"-But where were all your shoulders when we cried? Were the darlings on the sideline, dreaming up such cherished lies? To whisper in your ear before you die”

Something that had started as a way to show off a bit soon turned into something to enjoy, and in his usual fashion, he got sucked into the music deeply. He wasn’t even distracted by Mr James gently correcting his posture as he played.

“Junk.., angel.., this closet's always stacked. The dealers in the basement, fillin’ your prescription for a brand new heart attack. But where were all your shoulders when we cried? Were the doctors in attendance saying how they felt so sick inside, or was it just the scalpel blade that lied?”

Peter shivered, but he didn’t miss a note. He didn’t let up, hardly even opened his eyes, until he’d tapped out the last few notes.

Once again, there was a moments silence. Peter looked at Mr James, biting his lip nervously. The man looked back, and smiled.

“You’re a special case, Peter Parker-Stark” he said. “You should sign up for the end of term show”

“I don’t know...”

“Well I do, and I think it’s a great idea. You don’t have to sing, but you should definitely play and show everyone what you can do. Go out with a bang”

-

Peter was ready to tell Loki all about his day, so he was pretty furious when Tony turned up to collect him at the end of school. Luckily, Tony was on a work call, which eliminated any awkward one-sided conversation. He was still on the call when they got home, so Peter wasted no time in getting out of the car and darting upstairs. He rushed to Loki’s room, but stopped outside, hearing voices.

“...As long as there’s a decent school within walking distance, that area would work well” Loki was saying. “What are the public transport links like? I had a hire car so...”

Peter stayed quiet, pressing his ear up against the door. What on earth was he talking about? He must be on the phone, but who to? All this talk of schools and transport and amenities. It was almost as though-

“PETER!”

Peter jumped so violently he smacked his head on the door frame.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right” Tony said. “What are you doing, eavesdropping like that?”

“Daddy’s on the phone” Peter mumbled, rubbing his head. 

“I’ll ask you again: what are you doing, eavesdropping like that?”

“Being nosy, I guess”

“Come here”

Peter looked at Tony properly, remembered he was supposed to be giving him the silent treatment, and scowled, annoyed at both of them. Tony sighed, deciding he had better things to do than argue.

“Go and get changed. Now”

Peter didn’t really have a choice, not with Tony watching. He shut his door behind him, throwing his bag down and pulling his tie off. Typical of Tony to sneak in undetected at such a crucial moment. Tragically, there was an en-suite and a cupboard between Peter’s room and Loki’s, so he couldn’t even listen through the wall. He’d have to get his answers some other time.

-

Peter got changed, checked the coast was clear, and snuck back over to Loki’s door. Loki was still on the phone, although the conversation seemed to be coming to an end. 

“-Like I said, it’s still just an idea. It’s good to have all the fact first though. Sorry...? Yes, of course... Thanks again, chick. Talk to you soon. Bye now”

Everything went quiet, and Peter stood where he was, even more confused than before. Loki only called people he cared about ‘chick’. Who could he be talking to? 

As he was considering the options, Loki’s door opened, making Peter jump. They looked at each other.

“Hello, you” Loki said, closing his door behind him.

Something was off here, Peter knew it. “Who were you talking to?”

“Maggie, one of the ladies I worked with in Scotland. You know, I told you about her?”

Peter nodded slightly. He’d heard a lot of stories about Loki’s time in Scotland after he’d got back from his sabbatical. He used to talk about it a lot, but he hadn’t heard him mention it much lately. Although... he’d been looking at houses for sale, hadn’t he?

“Peter? Are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” Peter shook his head slightly. “Sorry”

“Never mind, sweetheart” Loki said, kissing him on the forehead. “Do you want a hot drink while I’m making one?”

Peter shook his head. He watched Loki go, and then looked back at the door. If Loki was just making a drink, he usually just left his door open. Peter knew that he was being overly suspicious, but he wanted answers. So he opened the door and slipped into Loki’s room. 

Loki’s tablet was on the bed. Peter tapped the screen, hoping it had only just timed out. No such luck: it wanted a password. Well, Peter knew a lot of Tony’s passwords, but he’d never managed to guess any of Loki’s - aside from his phone password. Peter abandoned the tablet and picked up Loki’s phone. He tapped in the pin he remembered - and the phone opened. He sat on the bed, looking through the phone. Loki hadn’t lied; his last call had been to Maggie. More than an hour, it had been. He looked through the notes on the phone. Most of it was the usual stuff: extra shifts, household tasks, ongoing shopping lists, something about Tony’s prescription, and then something titled ‘Peter’.

Peter looked up, checking the door, and then clicked on the note. It was another list: School, Room, Tech, Piano, Swimming?, Music, Drama?, Routine. Bike???

Peter looked at the list, confused. He had absolutely no idea what was going on here. What was the thought process? He closed the notes, glanced up, and spotted a notebook, just the corner poking out from under the pillow. He picked it up. It looked old, with curled corners and a well-thumbed front cover. He opened it, finding more notes - but this looked more professional, and upon closer inspection, he suddenly knew what it was. This was Loki’s old notebook from when he’d been working in Scotland; notes on the kids he was helping look after, everything from history to medical appointments to nighttime routines. Why would he be looking at his again? Nostalgia? But, if it was just nostalgia, why would he be hiding it? He liked talking about it; they were used to it in this house now. So why the secrecy? Or was Peter just being paranoid?

He put the notebook back, and picked up Loki’s phone again, opening his recent texts. There wasn’t much. Nothing to people in Scotland, anyway. He opened his latest texts to Tony. ‘Back at 3 x” read the last one. Above that wasn’t really much of interest. Lots of saying when they’d be back, asking if the other needed anything, quick ‘I love you’ texts, that kind of thing. But when he went back further, he found what looked like an argument, and he clicked the back button, sharpish. He knew his parents argued sometimes, but he didn’t like thinking about it. He sighed, and put the phone down. He was just being silly. 

He stood up, and something crackled beneath his foot. He crouched down, taking hold of the folder. It was a new one, evidenced by the price sticker still in place. He opened it, surprised at how thick it felt, and surprised even further by what he found inside. All of a sudden he felt a bit sick, and hot, and on high alert; his pulse beating in his ears. He took the papers out of the folder, looking through them properly. Job adverts, some of them. Information about residency and citizenship and things like that. And property listings. Lots of them, with notes and bullet points written on them in Loki’s familiar scrawl. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the words - and then the door opened. Peter jumped, and gasped a little, looking at his father. 

Loki carefully set his mug of tea down on the nearest cabinet. Peter couldn’t move, only watch, as Loki came over to him. 

“And what” Loki said, dangerously quiet. “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I-I was just-” his hands were shaking, and he dropped everything. “Ah! I- Sorry!”

He went to pick everything up, but Loki put a hand out, stopping him. Peter stayed as still as he could while Loki gathered everything and put it back in its folder. Loki stood up, dragging Peter to his feet too. He left him stood there and put the folder into the little lockable filing cabinet by the desk. 

“Daddy, I-”

“Not a word” Loki said. “I know exactly what you were doing”

He picked up his phone off the bed, opening it and clicking the button to see the recently viewed items. Peter had definitely taken leave of his senses, leaving everything out in the open like this. 

“I-I’m gonna go” Peter tried.

“No, I think not” Loki said. He held a hand up, and the door slammed shut. 

Peter swallowed hard. Loki hadn’t looked at him properly since he’d walked in, and Peter’s senses were screaming at him. He wished he’d just left everything alone.

“You came into my room without permission” Loki started, setting his phone down on his bedside table. “You go through my personal files, y-”

“Why have you got all that stuff? Is that from when you were in Scotland before? Were you gonna stay a lot longer?”

“Peter, do you really think that’s important?” 

“...Is that a yes?”

Loki looked at him. “You try to get into my tablet. You get into my phone, you look at my private notes and messages”

“Not all of them!”

“Found your tongue, I see” Loki said. “You went through my things, you came in here without permission, you’ve invaded my privacy and you’ve betrayed my trust in you”

“I-I didn’t mean to! I just heard you on the phone and I thought something might be wrong and I wanted to find out what”

“And you didn’t think to just ask me?”

Peter stopped, and he felt himself blush. 

“I’m really not happy with you, young man”

Peter looked down, shuffling on his feet. “...Am I in trouble?”

“YES, you’re in trouble!” Loki snapped, making the boy jump. “If you’d listened instead of interrupting, you’d know why. Although, judging by your face when I caught you red-handed, you already know why. You know you’ve done wrong”

“Mm... I didn’t mean to”

“What did you think would be the outcome, if you came in here and started going through my things without permission, and got caught? Did you stop to consider that?”

“Well...”

Loki folded his arms over his chest. Peter took a step back, and dared look at his father, at the look in his eyes, and the slight tremble of his left arm. 

“I’m sorry”

Loki didn’t say anything. He sat down on the bed, resting his head in his hand.

“...Daddy?”

Loki stayed quiet, thinking. Was he right to be this angry? Was it really as bad as he though it was? Had any real harm actually been done? What should he do? Punish the boy in the way his first, second, and third instincts were telling him to? Let him go without consequence? Risk him doing it again, and maybe finding more? He’d found so much in eight minutes. How much could he find in an hour? He might even reach the right conclusion if he had long enough.

“Get my tea”

Peter did as he was told, surprised by the request, but still cautious. He watched Loki sip his drink and sit up a little straighter. It looked like he was calmer, like he was relenting. For a moment they looked at each other, and just when it looked as though Loki was about to say something, there was a knock, and the door opened.

“Hey, a- oh, you’re both here” Tony said. “What’s going on?”

Loki sighed. “I found him going through my phone and private things”

“What?!” Tony marched over, the look on his face bringing a new meaning to Hell Hath No Fury. “How DARE you?!”

“I-”

“No, don’t interrupt!” Tony snapped, making him face him properly. “You shouldn’t have been in here without permission anyway! How dare you betray our trust like this? Why I-”

Loki watched them, feeling absent. He watched the way Tony spoke to Peter. The way he snapped at him. And then the way he shouted at him. He looked at his hand on the boys wrist, keeping him there. He watched the way Peter tried to shut down the situation, the way he tried to explain but kept getting cut off. He saw the look in the boys eyes. 

“I’m sick to death of your behaviour! I never would have gotten away with acting like this, and neither are you”

Tony tugged the boy close and hit him hard. Peter’s squeak, the next smack, and the sound of the boy crying broke Loki out of his dazed state.

“Tony!”

“He’ll never learn if we don’t discipline him” Tony said through gritted teeth, bringing his hand down again. 

“I’m sorry!!” Peter cried.

“There” Tony said. “You’ve had an apology now”

“He’s already apologised!”

Tony didn’t seem to be listening. Loki stood still for a moment, trying to think about things rationally. But another horrible smack, followed by the sight of his son howling and begging his father not to hurt him anymore was more than enough to make up his mind.

“Tony, stop it!” Loki grabbed Tony’s wrist. “You’re being too hard on him! It’s not that big a deal, and certainly not enough for you to be hurting him like this! Stop it now!!”

“He can take a few taps, Lolly” Tony said, but he let go of the boy.

Loki quickly moved Peter away from Tony, shielding him as he hugged him. 

“Are you alright?! Be honest with me, honey”

Peter covered his mouth with his hand, keeping his eyes averted, sobbing. Loki hugged him tight, protectively, willing the boy to stop shaking. He glared at Tony over his shoulder.

“You’ve scared him, you bastard!” he all but shouted. “You can’t take out all your pent-up emotions on our little boy!”

“I’m not!” Tony protested. “I’m being a parent”

“You’re being a bully” Loki shot back. “Do you want him to go and live with Thor, is that it?”

“What are you going on about?”

“That’s what happened last time you didn’t think he was safe with you. If you don’t sort yourself out, he’ll have to go again”

“Lolly, darling, you’re tired. Let’s talk about this in the morning” Tony said awkwardly.

“No, let’s talk about it now” Loki said, sitting Peter down on the bed and turning to Tony properly. “I don’t care how much you want to deny it, we both know you’ve been horrible to Peter ever since you got those DNA test results”

“Are you surprised? It’s a lot to process!”

“I know it’s a lot to process! But that’s not a reason nor an excuse for you treating him so badly. I can’t be here all the time, and-”

“Loki, I’m not being horrible to him! He’s the one being a little nightmare!”

“He’s being fine!”

“He was going through your stuff!”

“And I was handling it! You didn’t need to barge in here and launch an attack, did you? You’ve hurt him multiple times since that appointment, and the scariest part is you seem to think it’s just discipline or something, or you’re just a very good actor. You can’t seem to see that there’s a difference between a firm smack and an absolute wallop like you’ve been dolling out”

“I haven’t been that harsh!” Tony insisted. “...Have I?”

“Who in their right mind would react to those results the way you have? Thank god our kid is the only one, if this is how you are”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You talked to that Asgard man?” Peter piped up nervously.

“Yes, I did, sweetheart, even though it put me at risk of bumping into all the other bastards up there, because you asked me to, and you needed to know. And so did I”

“...He’s really the only one?” Tony said, suddenly a lot calmer.

“Yes, and I’m bloody glad of it too, and not in the least because you’ve reacted so badly to this that I’m not sure I even trust you around him right now”

Tony didn’t say anything, but he looked shame-faced. Loki didn’t look any happier for it.

“You need to face up to this and start acting like a proper dad again. Your denial is doing no one any good, and your way of ‘processing’ your emotions is damaging us. But it’s starting to seem more and more unlikely that you’re ever going to accept this new reality, unless you’re forced to” he said. “And maybe doing that is a good idea”

Loki picked up his phone, checking the time. It was still fairly early. Good.

“What are you doing?” Tony said.

“Making you face up to this”

“You can’t do that!”

“Watch me”

Peter flinched at the struggle that followed. Part of him wanted to jump in and make it stop, but he felt like he’d already caused enough trouble for one day. Tony was no match for Loki anyway. Peter looked at them. Tony had ended up on his back, hands trapped by his sides, with Loki sat on top of him with one hand holding his phone, and the other over Tony’s mouth. Something about it seemed to be evidence of truce - or at least, something close to it.

“Hello, Marco, my love” Loki said. “Have you got a pen? Perfect. I’ve got a little something for our press release”

Tony tried to struggle and get Loki to stop, unsuccessfully. He looked over at Peter for help. Peter knew what that look meant, but there was no way he was going to jump to Tony’s aid, not after how hard he’d hit him. He flopped against Loki’s pillows and hid his face so Tony couldn’t throw any more signals at him.

“Word for word, darling, promise me that now. You can choose a little opening if need be, mind” Loki was saying. “Everything ready? Beautiful. So, this is what I was thinking” Loki cleared his throat. “Due to recent findings in our personal lives, my husband decided to carry out a paternity test on himself and our son, under the guidance of our General Practitioner. Having now had time to process the results, we are happy to announce to the general public the wonderful coincidence that our son, Peter, is also my husband Tony’s biological son. While shocked by the discovery, we still remain the same family of equal parents and child. We will not be available for interview and ask that our families privacy be respected during this time”

“Nice... Nice, beautiful” Peter heard Marco saying over the phone. “Great! Tony got anything to add?”

Loki paused, his hand still over Tony’s mouth. “Tony Stark is not available for comment”

*