#he's been lying there like that for five minutes so apparently it's comfortable

[running-in-the-dark]

the cats were sleeping on my lap, Coco was half lying on Freddie. then Freddie moved...

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Sore

Logan Howlett x Reader

Minors, do NOT interact.

A/N: More of my Wolvie because my creative side rests in him atm. Based on the fact that my back literally is brokeback mountain and my legs feel like I took that cowboy up on his offer for five hours after saving his horse atm 🤣 also, domestic smut is SO underrated.

Anyway, all interaction, especially commentary is heavily appreciated! Enjoy!

Cw: Logan’s helping you feel less sore, things get steamy. Fluffy and spicy, domestic!Logan.

P.S: Want more of Logan? Check out my headcanons and/or feel free to submit an ask for a Drabble or Ficlet. :> You want daddy dom Logan? I gotchu. You want Logan to watch, idk, Cars with you?? I gotchu. Just nothing too dark or too crazy, please. Anonymous or not, feel free to drop your thoughts/thots!

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

You had flopped down on the your big ass bed the moment you’d gotten home from the gym. For whatever reason you had thought it would be a good idea to overdo it both today and yesterday, and now your legs and back were suffering the consequences.

So here you are, lying face down, starfish style. You barely remembered to kick off your nasty shoes and socks. Haven’t showered, haven’t pulled the comforter down. Just lying there in your misery as the pain in your legs chooses to linger.

You had to have been lying there for about ten minutes when you’re finally ready to get up, but then you hear the door open.

“Y/N?” Logan calls, having just got home from work apparently. It’s about eight at night, this is very early for him.

“Bedroom,” you call back weakly.

You hear his light footsteps pattering towards you. If you hadn’t been together as long as you had you wouldn’t be able to hear him because of how stealth he is.

“Aw, sweets, what’s wrong?” he asks as he walks into the bedroom.

“Sore,” you mumble, giving him another one word answer.

“Why?” he prods, in a somewhat lilting tone that implies he knows exactly why.

“Cause I overdid it,” you say begrudgingly. He was the one who warned you not to, and you could all but sense the smirk that had to be on his face right now. “If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m going to smother you,” you threaten as a follow up.

“Do it with that pretty cunt of yours and we’ll call it even.” Cheeky, as always. You groan in response, and not in a sexy way, even though his dirty words don’t fail to make your core feel a little warmer. “Alright alright. Can I try to make you feel better?”

“Please.” Your voice is slightly whiny as the ache in your legs is starting to get unbearably annoying.

“Aww, sugar,” he tuts, kissing you on the top of your head. “Just give me one second.”

He disappears momentarily, reappearing with some Advil and lemonade for you to drink it with. He sets the pair on the nightstand.

“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”

“Wait-“ you protest, before gasping ‘ow!’ as he uses his trying arms to hold you up, resting your back against your plush pillows and headboard. He sits in front of you, draping your calves over the tops of his thighs.

“Here,” he hands you the lemonade and Advil.

“Thanks. Wait- tell me about your day,” you prod, before swallowing the pill and the drink down.

“Oh, you really are sweet on your old man, ain’tcha,” he grins, flattening out the random wisps of hair that had escaped your updo. You smile sweetly at him, before downing the rest of the glass.

“Well, I went to stop some guy from stealing an old lady’s purse, but by the time I got over there she was smacking him over the head with it.”

“What in the Tom and Jerry?” you laugh incredulously.

“I swear it! In my too-many years I’ve never seen anything like that.” God, you could never grow tired of seeing Logan like this. Giggly, tired, relaxed. It’s so nice.

“It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I offer.

“Yeah, until Granny knocks it out of you,” he quips, and we both laugh. “So, where are you hurting?”

“My legs and my back. Shouldn’t have done the extra set of the one where you close your legs on the thing,” I tell him.

“What’re you wearing under this?” he asks, motioning to you. You’re wearing a sports tank and shorts, and underneath…

“Girl’s boxers and a sports bra.”

“Attagirl. Mind if I strip you down to those? Less layers makes it easier for me to dig into you.”

“You ask that as if you don’t fuck me almost every night,” you quip, the affirmation plain in your voice.

“And almost every morning and afternoon, but who’s counting?” he retorts with a mischievous grin. This is true- even after so many years of being together the two of you still can’t keep your hands off of each other.

“Don’t forget about evenings,” you add.

He gasps melodramatically, -“I could never.”-before tugging off your shorts. You sigh contentedly, glad to be free of your fabric confines. He then gently eases off your shirt so that, true to his word, you’re only in your undergarments.

“Can you lay on your stomach for me?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you slowly move from your spot amidst the pillows, slowly but surely. The pain doesn’t get enough time to build as much as before, and just rests at the same throbbing as before. You hear Logan rummaging in the nightstand.

“Shit, sorry, baby. I thought I had bought more of that lavender oil, but I forgot,” he says apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, your hands are more than enough already,” you tell him.

“Oh yeah?” Logan turns any words he can into a double entendre, it’s his sense of humor.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a rabbit mutation,” you laugh, referring to his persistent and ever present horniness.

“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” he asks gruffly, still joking. You feel the bed dip from behind you under his weight.

“You are pretty cute,” you tell him.

“But a rabbit?” he asks, incredulousness in his voice.

“Mayb-ohh,” your words are broken off as his surprisingly gentle hands start kneading your calves.

“Ohh,” he imitates, pressing deeper. God it feels good- hurts on contact, but then completely alleviates the pressure.

“Shut up,” you try to say through your soft moans of pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a no, sugar,” you can hear the overconfidence in his voice, and it doesn’t even bother you because of how much better you’re feeling.

“Ow-,” you whisper as he presses on a particularly painful spot in the inside of your leg.

“That’s it, huh?”

You meekly hum in response as he takes initiative to continue pressing on it, digging into it with his thumbs.

Eventuakly he has you feeling like putty, all comfortable until…

“Oh, come on!” you say indignantly as he flips you over. You feel the dull pain in your legs ignite again, and you already know what he’s about to make you do.

“I know, but you know you need to stretch,” he chides, sitting on his knees between your thighs. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, because he knows damn well how inflexible you are, especially when you’re sore.

You stick your tongue at him to no avail. He grabs your thigh, squeezing it before beginning to push it back. The dull pain immediately intensifies.

“F-fuck you!” you squeak as he pushes your thigh back further, your knee nearing your shoulder. You clutch Pookie as tight as you can to your chest. The words are directed more to the pain than him, but he can’t help but tease you, naturally.

“Is that nice?” he chastises lightly, the smile plain on his lips as he holds you in place. You can feel your muscles screaming from the soreness, but the position does seem to be alleviating the pressure some.

“No,” you pout guiltily, not wanting to seem ungrateful to him.

“I’m kidding,” his voice softens as he presses my leg back further.

“Ow!” you whine, the additional pressure making your leg impossibly more sore.

“Easy, sweet girl,” he reassures me, massaging the back of my thigh as he holds it in place. He grabs the lone stuffed animal that rests amongst your too-many pillows and blankets. It’s an okapi, his name is Pookie. However, Logan calls him ‘Abomination,’ because the first time you showed him a picture of one that’s what he called it. You always get miffed about him calling it that, so he adamantly makes sure to do so, even though he’s the one that bought it for you on a whim. Go figure.

“How about you hold A-Bomb? Will that make you feel better?”

“It will if you call him by the right name,” you tell him, sass in your voice. He grins- for whatever reason he finds it extremely amusing to annoy you.

“But his name is Abomination,” Logan insists, momentarily distracting you from putting down your leg before picking up your more sore one.

“No it’s not,” you protest, before literally squeaking from how bad it hurts to have the other leg pushed back.

“Fine, it’s not,” he says gently, handing you the stuffed animal with his free hand as he keeps your leg pinned back. You squeeze it as he pushers further, holding it for what feels like fifteen years but in reality is probably all of fifteen seconds.

Slowly you start feeling better, that is until he drops your leg and grabs both this time.

“Logan, no, I’m already stretched out, I feel better-,” you try, but as always, he knows better. He lifts both legs up, and however much better you were feeling is immediately ruined because your lower back is being added to the equation.

“Ow!” you whine, trying to wriggle free from his grasp to no avail. Damn his super strength. Your back is all but shrieking at you now.

“I seem to recall you being able to do this,” Logan says smugly. And you immediately clench on nothing, because you know exactly what he’s referring to.

“Well you’re not exactly dicking me down right now, are you?” Usually when your legs are over his shoulders like this it’s because he’s ploughing into you like it’s your last night on earth. And the memories are vivid- he always makes damn sure of that. The sweat on his brow, his filthy vocabulary….

Okay, you’re wet now.

“Dicking you down?” he laughs. “What are you, Wade?”

“Suddenly I’m not turned on anymore,” I roll my eyes. The Merc with a Mouth may just about exclusively talk about sex, but somehow it’s never sexy. Maybe it has something to do with the fact he still has the brain of a thirteen year old. Who knows.

“Mmm, let’s see about that,” he murmurs, tossing your stuffed animal to the side and dropping your legs down, to your relief. He tugs at your boxer shorts, looking you in the eye for consent. You nod, and he takes no time at all to slide them down your pretty legs. “Looks pretty turned on to me,” he says gravelly as he looks at your cunt.

“Mhm,” you agree, your voice wanton and low.

He knows exactly what you like, and neither of you is surprised by the shiver your elicits from you as he runs a knuckle through your slick folds.

One of the things about being with Logan is anything can be sexy, and by association, turn into sex. You don’t mind at all- you match his freak, if you will- but it is easy to marvel at how random it can be.

Some days it’s just your morning chatter- you’ll be talking about who knows what, maybe a movie you’ve seen, maybe your plans for the day. And then you’ll straddle him to get him to focus on you, because he’s always sleepy and slow in the morning. Before you know it he’ll have his hands on your hips, easing you up and down on his cock.

Other times it’ll be you two silently reading on the couch, legs crossed over one another because you can’t go a second without touching. Once one of you gets bored, it’s over for the other. If it’s he who gets bored but you’re still invested in your book, he’ll have you cockwarm him and finish your book. Sometimes it’s the other way around, but because you’re so needy you’ll usually be bouncing on him before he can finish and who is he not to do as you wish?

It’s always something. And one of those somethings apparently him helping you stretch,, which is a new one because usually you pass out after he contorts you like that.

After getting you ready for him, which really doesn’t take long since you’re almost always wet for him when you’re in his vicinity, he pulls down his sweats and his own boxers just enough to expose his dick.

But, because he’s Logan, and he’s annoying, he grabs the backs of your thighs with a mischievous grin, and before you even realize what he’s doing he presses both of your legs back. It really doesn’t hurt as bad, especially when he leans down to kiss you so passionately and all-consumingly that your mind clouds over.

“You ready f’me?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know that you are.

“Yeah, baby. Yeah,” you breathe. “Just go slow, please.”

“I promise, sweet girl,” he kisses you again, aligning himself with your entrance. “God, I love you,” he whispers as he watches himself slide into you with ease.

“I love you too,” tell him through a gasp, kissing his nose. “Please don’t make me more sore.” You have to reiterate that you want him to be slow, because while Logan is the sweetest, most considerate lover you could have, sometimes he can’t help but overdo it.

He laughs, not one to deny your imploring. “I’ve got you.” He bottoms out slowly, resting inside of you before pushing just a little bit more, hitting a spot that feels so good that it brings tears to your eyes. You’re so, so full of him, you can feel every twitch. This angle, painful as it may be, lets him get so wonderfully deep inside you. It’s a wonder you hadn’t tried this sooner.

“Oh, Logan,” you breathe, leaning into his touch as he kisses over your collarbone.

“Good, huh?” he says somewhat cockily, slowly pulling out of you before bottoming back out, hitting that impossible spot again. It feels so good that you can’t even think of something to say in response. “Thought so,” he smiles, kissing you on the nose. His voice has gonna somewhat breathy, but he still continues his steady, slow pace. The sounds that fill the room are gentle, with soft sighs and grunts and the occasional moan of one or the other’s name. And it’s perfect.

It feels so good that you feel tears slipping down your cheeks, and he leans down to kiss them away. “I know, sweet girl. I know.” His tone is soft, and it prompts you to further bury yourself in your fluffy comforter and pillows as he slowly coaxes a release out of me. He kisses you, slow but passionate as his fingers start to circle your clit in the way you like. The circles are much faster than his thrusts, and the sensation of the contrast in paces is absolutely delicious.

Logan loves having you like this- soft and sweet, in no rush. Your legs strewn haphazardly over his shoulders, squeezing him every time he nudges the head of his cock that extra inch inside of you. He loves to kiss you, to talk you through it. He loves you.

“You’re taking me so well, beautiful. You always do,” he coos, adding more pressure to your sensitive bud. You only whimper in response as your orgasm starts to build. He can feel it, hell, he can smell it. That sweet smell that’s so uniquely yours, that he’s so addicted to. “You gonna cum f’me? Make a mess all over this big dick?” he asks, knowing full well how much of a mess his dirty words make of you. You nod ever so slightly, you’re entire body on fire from how good it feels.

Your legs tighten around his head as you cum, and it’s perfect. The pleasure is immense, intense enough to make you close your eyes as he keeps his same pace, drawing it out longer than ever. “Logan?” you whisper once you catch your bearings.

“Yeah?” he asks, still moving slowly and hitting that perfect spot. His voice is slightly strained, you can tell he wants to cum.

“Cum in me, please,” you ask with your best doe eyes.

“Gladly, sugar,” he kisses you again, coming with just a few more thrusts as you clench around him as tightly as you can. “Fuck,” he mumbles, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder and darkening what may as well be a permanent mark from him. He always bites in the same spot. He lets your legs down but stays inside you, panting as he holds you close. Eventually he pulls out, and you whine from the loss of contact, feeling your mixed releases slip out of you.

“You feeling better?” he asks, laying on his side as you do the same.

“Yeah. Thank you so much,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, gorgeous. I’ve heard that a good orgasm releases tension.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he hugs you close.

“Waiiiit I need to shower,” you complain, trying to push him away.

“In a minute,” he counters, nuzzling his face in your neck and squeezing you tighter.

That’s definitely the biggest lie he could have told you, because you both knew damn well it would be more than a minute. And even when you do get out of bed- sorry, Pookie!- there’s always room for showers and post-shower sex. You don’t make the rules, it just happens. And with your luck you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, and you’ll probably have asked for it.

What can you say? You’re just a girl, after all. A girl who loves her guy, whose guy loves her.

Fin! Xx.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

PETER TAKING CARE OF DRUNK!READER PLS

You’re Drunk, And He’s In Love

--genre + trope: FLUFF, sfw.

--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x college!gn!reader

--word count: 0.9k

--warnings: mentions of alcohol, consumption of alcohol, reader throws up (womp womp), the smallest angst ever (still wondering if angst is even in this...), FLUFF, peter loves reader so much!!!

A loud thump shocks Peter out of his relaxed state, the sound coming from downstairs. Knowing that no one is home, he makes his way out of his room. Ascending the stairs, he’s silent, waiting to see if he can hear the noise again. Hearing nothing, he twists the lock and pulls the fraternity’s front door open. 

A quick glance outside proves that there is nothing, but then he looks down. There you are, lying across the doorstep, a drunken smile written all across your face. Looking up through your eyelashes your eyes light up at the sight of your boyfriend, “Hi, Petey!”

He squats down to grasp under your arms. Pulling you up, he wonders where all this sudden dead weight came from. Once you’re standing (more like leaning), he finally greets you, “Hey, bug. What are you doing here?”

“I was at this party over there,” you point behind you, “and then…I realized that I’d be having way more fun with you, so…I walked over, and now I’m here!”

Throughout your rambling he closed the door behind you, starting to make his way up the stairs with you by his side. Following your last sentence, he stops dead in his tracks, “Wait, how far did you walk?”

“Uhh, I-I’m not sure…but, I made it,” your memory is spotty. If you were sober, you could’ve heard how Peter’s question was more serious than you realized. Oblivious, it passes over your head.  

He decides to let it go, choosing to focus on your current state, “C’mon let’s go to bed, bug.” Wobbly nodding your head, you follow Peter’s lead up the stairs and to his room. 

Falling back onto the familiar sheets of his bed, you mentally declare that this is heaven on earth. You bask in the feeling, even in your hazy state, you know for a fact that you want to stay here forever if you could. Your bliss is interrupted by a very cold cloth on your face. Apparently, your confusion is quite apparent in your features, as a breathy chuckle escapes Peter’s lips. 

“If I didn’t do this you would be so pissed at me in the morning. You don’t need to be angry and have a hangover,” Peter is quickly pleading his case as you open your eyes to see him bunch up a, now dirty, makeup wipe in his hands. Tossing it in the trash, he stands and makes his way to his dresser, rummaging through an extensive collection of shirts. When he finally finds one, he tosses it on the bed next to you, walking back to you shortly after to stand between your legs that have been hanging off the bed. 

He extends his hands towards you, even going so far as to wiggle his fingers, hoping that his actions will convince you to sit up, “Do you want to stay in your clothes, or do you want to actually get comfortable?”

You groan as you lift your arms up to grab his hands. As soon as you make contact with his touch, he wastes no time in pulling you up to meet his chest. Still holding your hands, he kneels down to start undoing your shoes. Now that you’re sitting up, the spins hit you, and they hit you hard. 

Peter has been looking down, working at your shoes when he feels a hand slap down on his shoulder. He looks up immediately, his face plagued with concern, “You alright, baby?” Your other hand rises to hold your mouth as you shake your head, and that is all Peter needs to rush you to his bathroom. 

The sight is far from pretty, but Peter doesn’t care. He’s holding your hair up with one hand as his other is making slow circles on your back, letting you spill tonight's contents into the toilet bowl. 

You haven’t been there for a long time. The feeling of nausea passes after a good five minutes. Originally Peter was just going to get you changed and bring you to bed, but now he knows that you need a hot shower to wash off the feeling of being sick from your mind and your body. 

He reaches over to flush the toilet before carefully lowering the toilet seat cover and pulling you off your knees to sit on the ceramic, brushing the tears that escaped your eyes off your warm cheeks, “Let’s get you in the shower, my love.”

Everything Peter does, he does it with care. Especially when it came to you. 

While in the shower with you, he knows that in the morning you’ll be extremely apologetic and embarrassed. But what he also knows is that he’d do that one hundred times again just to know that you’re safe. He can’t imagine what it would’ve been like if you hadn’t come to him tonight. It honestly scares the shit out of him at the thought of you being this vulnerable at a party, alone. 

He knows that you can handle yourself, there’s no doubt about it. He can see you brushing off your feelings just for the sake of not ruining the party. 

He almost prides himself in the thought of you feeling this comfortable around him, because there isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you. So when you wake up and ask him to grab an Advil for your killer headache, he’ll do it in a heartbeat. 

--author's note: honestly, i love a good drunk!reader or drunk!peter fic. there's nothing like caring for someone despite their drunkenness. i keep writing everyone to be slightly sassy...LMAO. WHOOPSIE!!! thank you for liking, commenting, and reblogging!!! my asks/inbox is opennnn, so send in requests if you feel like it babes. ok, bye ily<33

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 4

 [Master List]

Mrs. Bianchi hadn’t been lying when she’d said he would see an influx in children. Within a week of visiting her, he had seven more kids, a total of thirteen. He definitely needed to hire some help- he couldn’t keep duplicating without exhausting his powers and despite Ember’s help, they wouldn’t be able to handle thirteen kids on their own. He could afford to hire help with all the money the Ghost King apparently had.

            “Danny!” A happy little shriek sounded from across the room, quickly growing closer. A small body crashed into his leg and a little ‘oomph’ came from the child who fell to the floor. “Danny! Look! Look, look!” Maru, an unusually energetic four-year-old, shoved a picture she’d drawn towards his face.

            The picture was of two stick figures, the smaller one was crying, and the bigger one was… comforting her? “Wow, Maru! It’s really creative!” He nodded sincerely. “Who’s that?” He pointed to the bigger stick person, assuming the smaller one was her.

            She sighed dramatically. “That’s you silly! Cause I was sad being left home alone all day but now I don’t have to cause mommy said you’re good!”

            He masked the frown that threatened to overtake his face when she mentioned being left alone all day. She didn’t want him to be sad, she wanted him to appreciate her art and reassure her that he’d be around for a while, so she didn’t have to be alone. So that’s what he did. “I like having you around too, Maru!” Her story was just like Marco’s. How many other parents left their children home alone all day just so they could afford to put food on the table?

            A little bell rang alerting him to someone standing in the entrance. He glanced at his watch (which he’d connected to the very thorough security system) and saw a couple of parents waiting to pick their kids up.

            “Allegra! Tommy! Your parents are here!” The two kids groaned, both totally immersed in their activities and not wanting to be dragged away. “Five minutes okay?” He smiled, opening the door for Mrs. Reik and Mia. “They’re finishing up what they’re doing, I’ll grab their bags.”

            They’d fallen into a routine, he, and the parents. They would show up, give their children a few minutes to finish what they were doing, and he’d grab their bags (which he often slipped a book, toy, or snack into without their knowing). Tommy’s bag was a little worn down and he made a mental note of the brand and color so he could replace it.

            When he made his way back to the two women they were each holding a child. “Danny are you still looking for help?” Mia asked, shifting Allegra on her hip.

            He nodded brightly. “Yeah, I haven’t had much time to look, and I don’t know many people yet, so it’s been difficult. If you’re interested or know someone who is, let me know!”

            Mrs. Reik thanked him, grabbed her son’s bag, and was on her way, but Mia lingered.

            “Do you have applications or…?” She trailed off, embarrassment clinging to her frame.

            He nodded, considering the tired look on her face. “I do. It’s mostly a formality,” he moved towards his filing cabinet and pulled out some papers. “and so I can run a background check and such. Do you have experience with kids?”

            She shifted Allegra pointedly. “Mama and- and papa were always working. I raised this one and Georgie too. Now that papa is… anyway, mama needs a little help with money and my schooling’s all online, so I was going to start working anyway.”

            “Well, fill this out, I’ll run the check, and we should be able to get you working real soon.” The bell rang alerting him to another parent. “You have my number if you have any questions.”

            After Mia left most of the parents arrived with the exception of only a few who worked much later. Danny’s daycare was open from seven thirty to six -which was, admittedly, a very long time. But he wanted to be as available as he could for families in need. With Mia’s help he wouldn’t feel so worn down at the end of his eleven-hour day. 

            And worn down he was. When he got back to his apartment he didn’t even realize it had been infiltrated. Usually he would notice something like that immediately, but Ancients he was tired. So tired he didn’t even react when his eyes finally landed on the vigilantes in his living room. He added two more to his list of people who’d managed to sneak up on him and also a mental note to brush up on his observational skills.

            “Oh. Hey.” He nodded slightly, dropping his bag on the ground and crouching to pet the cats, noting Curiosity’s energy. Good, the medicine was working. “Give me a second,” The vigilantes squinted, looking between each other in confusion. “I need coffee.” One of them nodded in understanding, the other sighed dramatically. “You guys want anything?”

            “Coffee sounds great.” The red one responded. Red Robin, his subconscious provided.

            “Agent A banned you from coffee, Red. “The purple one -Spoiler- groaned.

            Red shrugged. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him- or me. Besides, he offered, it’d be rude to turn him down!”

            Deciding this argument had nothing to do with him, Danny began brewing a fresh pot, poured two mugs, and grabbed a water bottle. Returning to the living room he found Red examining his pictures of him and his Fraid, and Purple collapsed into his couch. “You didn’t ask for anything, so I got you water. It’s still sealed.”

            She looked touched, grabbing the bottle, unsealing it, and taking a tentative sip. Red didn’t hesitate when grabbing the coffee and taking a large gulp, not even wincing at how hot it was.

            “So. What can I do for you guys?” He collapsed into the armchair across from Purple and began sipping on the coffee. Gross, he should have added sugar.

            Red squinted. “You don’t seem terribly shocked about our presence.”

            Danny shrugged, tiredly. “Hey man, it’s Gotham. I would have been annoyed that you guys broke my four-month streak of not running into any vigilantes or rogues except Nightwing ruined that streak a few nights ago so…”

            “You ran into Nightwing?” Red asked.

            Before Danny could answer, Spoiler spoke up. “What the hell’s going on with your pants?”

            He glanced down, considering the right leg of his jeans which, he now noticed, was covered in doodles, and sighing. “I should know better than to wear my nicer jeans to work, huh? Allegra probably did that while I wasn’t paying attention. Anyway, as fun as this is, I’m sure you didn’t come here for refreshments and conversation?”

            “Actually, that’s exactly why we’re here.” Red Robin placed his now empty mug on the coffee table (seriously, how did he drink it that fast? It’s literally a thousand degrees!) and sat beside Spoiler. “Just wanted to get to know the new guy in the Bowery.”

            Danny snorted, taking another sip before closing his eyes and tilting his face towards the ceiling. “More like, you wanted to get to know the guy who is doing a good thing for seemingly nothing in return and wondering if it’s a front or if he’s a rogue in the making. Am I right?” He slid one eye open and took in their surprised faces. “I’m not an idiot, I know what I’m doing is going to raise some questions. It took forever to get anyone in the community to trust me.”

            “So-”

            “Who’s your mystery donor?” Spoiler asked, cutting Red Robin off.

            He smirked. “You’re looking at him.”

            Tucker had added an egregiously wealthy relative to Danny’s backstory when recreating him. He’d forged a death certificate, a will, bank transfer’s, a charge for cremation and an urn, everything one could need to convince the world that his money was earned in a normal way and not through combat for a ghost throne. He even displayed the urn on a bookshelf in his living room.

            The two vigilantes stared, glancing at the run-down apartment, and back to him. “No really, who is it?” Red asked.

            Danny rolled his eyes. “I have a pretty big inheritance, just using it for something good. No one would trust me if I told them it was me though, definitely makes me seem like a rogue out to traffic their kids or something. Which,” He looked at them pointedly. “is not the case. I’m just doing what I can as a favor for a friend.”

            “Pretty big favor.” Purple whistled.

            “Yeah, and I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have free time. But after finishing my bachelor’s and not needing to work, I was getting bored.” Technically, that was only partially true. Danny still spent more than his fair share of time working in the Infinite Realms as their king. But they didn’t need to know that.

            The vigilantes looked at each other skeptically before Red spoke again. “You decided to open up an entirely free daycare, paying for everything out of pocket, as a favor to someone because you were bored?”

            He shrugged.

            “No matter how much money you have that’s not sustainable!” Red threw his hands up in the air.

Danny considered this for a moment, taking another drink. “You know Bruce Wayne?” The two froze only for a moment, so short that it would be hard to catch unless you had experience reading people’s micro expressions. Which he did. “The amount of money I have makes Bruce Wayne look impoverished by comparison. That’s not a brag, it’s disgusting, and I’m trying to get rid of it. So. There. I can keep this daycare running for the rest of my life without putting a dent in my inheritance.”

            “How the hell do you have that much money!?” Purple shouted.

            “Listen, Purple, can I call you purple? I’ve been calling you Purple in my head this whole time, you didn’t exactly introduce yourselves.” Sure, he knew her name was Spoiler, but she didn’t need to know that. “Anyway, Purple, I inherited the money, don’t ask me how I have so much, ask the guy who gave it to me- well, you can’t, I guess, cause he’s dead, but that’s not the point.” He paused, realizing he’d been going several sentences without breathing which was definitely suspicious. “I have a shit ton of money; my friend raised me better than to be a rich capitalist scumbag so I’m doing my best to make her not hate me for my wealth.”

            Maybe that would be enough breadcrumbs to keep them busy for a while and off his back. He was rich, he inherited it from someone who was dead, he had a friend who hated the rich, he might as well give them his social security number and childhood home address while he was at it! Tucker could find someone more mysterious with less.

            He heard the distinct voice of a woman coming from their ears (probably a comm?). “You two done with RR’s weird obsession? We have actual crime to deal with.” It was an amused but stern voice, and it reminded him of Jazz the few times she’d joined Tucker on his comms.

            Red was grumbling something, but Purple seemed amused. “Well… I’m Spoiler, but Purple is fine too I suppose. Aaaaaand while this has been -fun- and all, we should probably get going. Thank you for answering our questions and for the drinks. Sorry for breaking into your apartment.”

            He grunted in response, the exhaustion of the day seeping into his weary bones. The sound of his window sliding open and shut signaled their departure and while he had intended to take a shower and eat dinner, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. This daycare thing was a lot more exhausting than he’d thought it would be.

            The thought he’d been having on and off since opening the place up reappeared. How long was he planning to keep this up? He’d done it all on a whim and by the time he realized what he was doing, it was done. He was now the (maybe proud?) owner of a free daycare in the middle of the Bowery and also the king of the infinite realms and how long was he going to be able to do both?

            Hiring Mia would help (would he be able to explain Lunch Lady and Ember?) but he had had so many ideas on how to help Gotham, he wanted to do it all. While he wasn’t a true Gothamite, hadn’t grown up here, had barely been here a few months, he’d grown to like the rough city, this wasn’t simply a favor to Lady Gotham anymore. It was something he really wanted to do. The people here needed help; he could provide it.

            Teaching some classes at Gotham U could be interesting but he hadn’t decided if he wanted to or not. He already had so much on his plate, could he really add something as big as teaching college level classes? And if he did want to teach, would his teaching be better off at Gotham U or maybe a younger level? If he could hire enough trustworthy people to watch over the daycare and run it themselves, he could work on some of this other plans for Gotham.

            Their education was extremely lacking anywhere that wasn’t Gotham Academy (for rich snobs) and he’d double majored in Engineering and Biochemistry, surely his knowledge would be useful to teenagers?

            Great. If he followed his usual pattern of following through on whatever whims he had, he was likely to build a whole Ancients damned school in the Narrows next. Although…. It would help with the exorbitant wealth thing….

~~~

            Danny had definitely prepared for messes. He’d stocked his cabinets with different cleaning supplies and tools for all kinds of spills. He’d expected food, drinks, and bodily fluids, but he didn’t have a cleaning product to get melted crayon out of carpets- he didn’t even know how Allegra had managed to melt the crayon!

            It hadn’t been that big of a deal, honestly, but the carpets were new, and Danny liked when the place looked organized (the same could not be said for his apartment or bedroom) and the large dark red stain on the light blue path of the carpet looked suspiciously like blood which was not a good look for the daycare.

            That was how Danny found himself searching the convenience store down the street for some kind of cleaning product for melted crayons. It was only after he’d gone to three convenience/grocery stores in the area that he decided he would make the trip across the river to the Upper East Side and search one of the ‘nicer’ stores.

            Despite his desire to get rid of his wealth, he didn’t like shopping at the fancier stores in the area, for the same reason he didn’t live in a penthouse in the Diamond District. He couldn’t help Gotham without putting himself in the shoes of her people. And while he wasn’t truly in their shoes (being an incredibly wealthy king meant he’d never truly understand their suffering) he also refused to live lavishly.

            But he really wanted to get the red crayon out of his carpets. There were… so many cleaning products. Staring at the shelves, Danny began mentally crossing out each one he knew wouldn’t work before picking up individual bottles and checking what they were meant for. It took a long time. He was only halfway through the search when he felt someone approaching.

            An older man in a suit of some sort (who goes grocery shopping in a suit?) stopped a few steps away, picking up a couple of cleaning products and placing them in his cart. He began to move away before stopping once more.

           “I noticed you seem unsure about the cleaning products. Perhaps I could be of assistance?” His tone was polite, but Danny felt a blush spread across his cheeks anyways. He was supposed to be a responsible adult, but he couldn’t even find a cleaning product correctly.

           Nodding appreciatively, Danny faced the man. “I need to get melted crayon out of a carpet and apparently my closet of cleaning supplies wasn’t prepared for that.”

          The man nodded. “That sounds like quite the mess.” He plucked a bottle from the shelf that Danny had yet to look at. “This will do the trick. Pour a generous amount onto the affected area, let it sit for fifteen minutes, then scrub it out, repeat, and rinse.”

          Danny grinned. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Danny.” He offered the man a hand.

          “Alfred Pennyworth, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

          They shook hands before Danny stepped away. “Well this is all I needed and I’ve gotta get back to take care of this as soon as possible. I really appreciate your help Mr. Pennyworth.”

          “I’m glad I could help you. Have an enjoyable evening, Mr. Danny.”

          And an enjoyable evening he had. Once he’d gotten back to the daycare, Danny managed to scrub out the stain (Thank you Mr. Pennyworth) until the carpet looked almost good as new and definitely not like blood had been spilled on it. Afterwards he made his way home with a bit more energy in his step than he was used to.

           Jazz had insisted on Danny having one of those large family calendars due to his crazy schedule and tonight being a Thursday night meant it was time to plan out the following weekend and week after. Things were generally the same every week- Daycare from seven thirty to six, Monday through Friday, the evenings were spent recharging, Saturdays he slept in and went to the Infinite Realms from eleven to eleven, Sunday mornings he got brunch with Jazz, Sunday nights was the group call with Tucker, Sam, Val, and Jazz, and then it repeated.

           But he hadn’t made it to the soup kitchen in a while and he had really enjoyed volunteering there while the daycare was under construction so tomorrow he was going to get up early, go to the Realms from six to six and make it back in time to help with the dinner crowd. He hadn’t seen the two brothers in a few weeks but there were few days he didn’t think about them.

~~~

            Mia was an incredibly helpful addition to the daycare and Danny thanked the Ancients she was so reliable. Although he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her entirely alone at any point throughout the day, he did get to take a few hours in the afternoon to get paperwork done in his office while she watched over the kids. On busier days he wouldn’t even do that. They had eight kids every day, guaranteed, but there were many families with less regular schedules that would drop their kids off once or twice a week and on those days, Danny wouldn’t leave Mia alone for even a moment.

            The best part about her was that she didn’t ask questions. She’d taken one look at Lunch Lady, paused, looked at the menu, nodded, and didn’t say a word. When Ember introduced herself Mia acted as though it were a completely normal situation, completely ignoring the green/gray skin and getting to work.

            She didn’t work the entire day, he couldn’t (and wouldn’t) ask her to stay for an almost twelve-hour shift. She came in around nine in the morning and left around three, taking Allegra with her. When he told her how much he’d be paying her she nearly had a heart attack, but working with children was a difficult and demanding job and he refused to underpay her for her work.

            “Hey boss, you looking for more help around here?” She asked in the middle of cleaning up for naptime on an unusually busy Friday afternoon.

            He dumped his armful of toys into the bin and pushed his hair out of his face. He really needed a haircut. “Yeah. Your help has been great, but I’m hoping to eventually have enough people here that I don’t have to actually be here all day every day anymore, you know?” She nodded thoughtfully. “You have someone in mind?”

            She wiped down the tables still covered in crumbs from snack time and took a moment before responding. “I have a friend who mentioned an interest. He doesn’t live around here but he’s a friend. I’ve known him a long time, he’s good people.”

            He shrugged. “Give him an application and I’ll look it over. And if you’ve got more friends like that, feel free to give them applications too. Like I said, I’m looking to hire quite a few people. Although, I’d like to hire people slowly, make sure everyone gets trained well and gets along before hiring another person.”

            She hummed in agreement and at the end of her shift took three application packets, stuffing them into Allegra’s backpack before picking the girl up and toting her away. Mrs. Reik was the last person to pick her son up that day and she ended up staying a bit to chat.

            “I can’t tell you how helpful your daycare has been for our family.” She started, a sentiment that many of the parents had conveyed to him many times. “I was wondering if you’d like to come by for dinner sometime, so we can properly thank you?” Her offer was shy, slightly guarded, but definitely genuine.

            He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. He’d been told that his smiles could be unnerving (too many teeth) so he channeled all the appreciation he could into this one while still keeping it small. “I would love to, Mrs. Reik.”

            “Oh please, call me Diane. Would next Friday work? My husband will be home all day with Tommy, and he makes a mean lasagna.”

            As long as his food didn’t come back to life, he wasn’t too picky about it. “That sounds great. The daycare is open until six, is seven all right?”

            “That’s perfect. Thank you again, Mr. Nightingale.”

            “Please, if I’m going to call you Diane, you can call me Danny.”

            Apparently, Jazz was right, making friends wasn’t so difficult. The formula was as easy as opening a free daycare, putting yourself out there, befriending every person you meet so they spread the word about you and your business, and working twelve hours a day five days a week chasing after energetic demons. Easy.

~~~

            The good part about being able to open portals to the Infinite Realms was that he didn’t need to wake up extra early to get to work. He rolled out of bed (which he’d actually made it to before taking one of his power naps, thank Ancients) at 6:02 in the morning, ripped open a portal, transformed, and BAM! He was at work.

            Stepping directly into his office (seriously he needed to get rid of a few offices how did he have so many?), he settled in for a few hours of paperwork before taking a break. He had quite a few requests to schedule a time to spar which he scheduled first- putting those off only meant his rogues would come find him and he didn’t want to explain to Gotham why he was fighting ghosts- before moving onto other matters.

            The Observants knew not to bother Danny in his office after an incident where Danny had refused to do work for a day for every disturbance he received. It was a three weeklong strike that finally ended in them leaving him alone and Danny eventually catching up on his paperwork.

            Three hours later he experienced a moment he thought he’d never see. There wasn’t any paperwork on his desk. He was free! Free! Standing up in the hopes to leave the Infinite Realms early, a pile of paperwork materialized in front of him.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            Collapsing back into his chair, Danny regretted every moment of his miserable life. He just had to stop Pariah from destroying the world, didn’t he? But guess what, Danny? No world, no paperwork! He could be nonexistent right now, oblivion, dead, but instead, he was half dead and one hundred percent responsible for copious amounts of paperwork.

            There would be no rest for the dead it seemed.

Prev. Next

[cookiegirlsstuff]

Hello there! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where BTS are back in their early debut days when Jungkook was like 15 and he was shy around the members, so Seokjin asks him to cook with him to try and make him more comfortable around him and then Jungkook is really nervous the entire time so Seokjin starts tickling him in like a goofy brotherly manner? I don’t know if that made sense but yeah. Have a good day :)

Nervous Kookie

Lee: Jungkook

Ler: Seokjin

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆

"Jungkook, come here and help me cook!" Jin's voice echoed through the BTS member's dorm.

Surprised, Jungkook looked up from his smartphone screen. He was sitting alone in his bedroom, which he normally shared with Taehyung. Fortunately, his roommate wasn't there at the moment.

He was actually trying to kill as much time as possible until dinner, but apparently his hyung had other plans. Unfortunately…

Jungkook and the other members had only been living together for about two weeks and he still hadn't really gotten used to it. It felt strange living with six older boys. Jungkook just didn't want to do anything wrong in front of his hyungs and just felt very uncomfortable around them in general.

But for better or worse, he had to go to the kitchen and help Jin. So he set off immediately so he wouldn't keep his hyung waiting any longer.

"Hi Jungkook, nice of you to help me," he heard Jin's voice as he entered the small kitchen.

Jungkook secretly wondered if he had had a choice, but of course he didn't say that out loud.

"What should I do?" Jungkook asked. He wanted to be a good dongsaeng and do everything perfectly if he had to help.

"I wanted to cook japchae and it would be nice if you could cut and fry the vegetables," Jin replied before moving on to something else.

"Okay," Jungkook mumbled and took a carrot, which he then began to cut."

However, he couldn't avoid turning around every five seconds to look at Jin.

"Jungkook is everything okay? Do you need help?" Jin asked worriedly when he noticed Jungkook's constant glances.

"No no! Everything's fine… really," Jungkook said, almost panicked, and quickly returned to his task.

But the sudden question made him even more insecure and he nervously started to play with the sleeves of his hoodie instead of cutting the vegetables.

"Jungkook, are you not feeling well?" the eldest of the group asked again.

Slowly, Jin began to get seriously worried. Jungkook always seemed so lost and frightened, so he wanted to integrate the youngest a little, but for some reason his plan didn't seem to work out.

But he really wanted to help Jungkook loosen up a bit.

"Wait, I'll help you a little," he said firmly and took the knife from Jungkook's hand, which he was using to cut an onion.

"That wasn't so difficult after all," Jin announced once he had finished. Jungkook just gave him a self-conscious look, after all, he hadn't even managed to help his hyung cook.

"Jungkookie, don't make such a face," Jin laughed and gave Jungkook a playful poke in the side.

Jungkook hadn't expected that and let out a little squeal.

"Jungkook, is somebody ticklish?" he asked in a teasing voice.

Jungkook was too embarrassed to answer, but it was answer enough for the older man.

He immediately began to poke Jungkook in the side again and again until he was lying on the floor laughing.

But of course his sudden tickle attack wasn't over yet. It was only just beginning.

Before Jungkook could even realize what was happening, Jin had already taken a seat on the younger boy's hip and was running his finger along Jungkook's belly.

"Hyung…stohohop pleaasse," Jungkook managed to say between his giggles.

“Awww does someone have a ticklish tummy?” Jin smiled at his cute maknae.

After a few minutes, he began to tease Jungkook even more, making smaller and smaller circles around his belly button until he finally dipped his finger inside.

“Looks like I found the giggle button!” Jin said, feeling proud of himself.

“You’re such a ticklish little thing, aren’t you?” Jin said as he slowly moved his hands down to Jungkook's hips.

"Jin….nohoho….it ticklehehes!" gasped Jungkook desperately as Jin continued to tickle him.

He was trying so hard to squirm away from Jin's touches, but he followed every way that Jungkook managed to move.

After a while, Jin was finally done and Jungkook lay on the ground exhausted but happy. Jin helped the younger one stand up and gave him a welcome look.

“Well, that was fun, don’t you think?” He asked. When he got no response, he fluttered his fingers against Jungkook's stomach again.

“Yehehes! I-It wahas!”

"Let's keep cooking before the others complain," Jin grinned, and they both started their work again.

Thank you for your request. I had so much fun to write it and I hope you like it 😉 (ok this saying is getting a little bit weird after a while but...yes) and sorry for being late again.

[slytherinshua]

hiii i have another request, #24 from hurt comfort #1 from e2l and #21 from action for taehyun? tyyy 😻

Complicated

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. rivals to lovers? friends to lovers? ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: some mention of violence, blood, and bruises. crying & kissing. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: taehyun x reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 2.2k. (yes, i went overboard sdfjks) ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: tysm for requesting hannie!! i hope you enjoyy

You and Taehyun had a… complicated relationship. Very complicated. So complicated that neither of you understood it, nor did your friends, or his parents, or anybody who knew even a little bit about it.

One day you would be complaining about how much you despised him and everything he did. You would practically be complaining that he was allowed to breathe the air and walk the same ground as you.

And well… the next day you were kissing him at his house.

So, yeah. It was complicated.

It had been easier to navigate a couple months ago, back when the aforementioned kissing at Taehyun’s house had only happened twice. Back when you actually still could be sure you despised him. As of now, you were starting to question it.

You couldn’t even remember how the first kiss played out. One minute you were studying together, the next minute his lips were on yours. And you couldn’t remember the rest. But the fact that you kept coming back to it— coming back to him— must mean something, right?

These were the thoughts that swarmed through your head as you sat in your little spot: the tree house your big brother had built for you when you were five. Built for Taehyun and you to be more precise. But it was in your yard, and you had long since banished Tae from it. But every once in a while, when Taehyun needed to talk to you, he knew exactly where to go when no one else did.

“Y/n, I know you’re up there.” He called out, and you cursed under your breath, not in the mood to talk to him at this very moment.

“What do you want- you piece of shit?” You shouted, poking your head out of the window just to give him your best glare. And he giggled, making you annoyed and in love with him all at once.

“I beat you at the test… I thought you said you wouldn’t let that happen in a million years.” He teased, his arms crossed and a stupidly pretty smirk on his face.

“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” 

“Well, I thought you would. You seemed pretty stressed about it last week.” He continued, smile growing whenever he saw the annoyed look on your face. His heart fluttered that he had that much of an affect on you, even if it was not the most ideal affect— it was still an affect.

“I’m not stressed about it, trust me- so you can leave.” You spat, even though you were lying, and Taehyun could probably see right through you. The truth was, you were more stressed than ever, but not specifically about the test.

The same brother who had built your lovely tree house and who you loved so much had died. But that was 5 years ago. The problem was, he was apparently in debt. And in debt to some pretty awful people - who were now expecting you to pay off this debt.

And you didn’t think it would be a big deal, but you didn’t have a lot of savings, and despite working 2 part time jobs, you still didn’t make enough. If your grades continued to suffer like they were, then there was no way you’d be able to get into a college on a scholarship, or even a college period. So, yeah, you were stressed.

“Are you okay?” Taehyun said suddenly, and it was about the last thing you expected him to say. Taehyun? Concerned about you? It was unheard of.

“I’m fine, so you can leave.” You said again, realising that you would be late for work if you didn’t leave pretty soon.

“Okay…” His voice was dejected as he glanced up at the treehouse one more time before leaving you be.

You sighed, rubbing your fingertips over your temple to ease some of the stress, but it didn’t work. You didn’t have any time left to sit around, so you climbed down from the treehouse, and hopped on your bicycle to ride to work. 

You’d have to meet the thugs later on if you didn’t want them to follow you home from work and then figure out where you lived. You were not looking forward to it, but for some reason, you weren’t scared either.

//

Turns out, you should have been scared. You should have been very scared. You should have called the police. You should have been more persuasive. You should have kept your brother alive 5 years ago. You should have been born rich. You should have had a trick up your sleeve. You should have never dropped out of those martial arts classes when you were eight. You should have done something.

But you didn’t. And now you were limping your way to Taehyun’s house cause you didn’t know where else to go. You didn’t know if you would make it to your own house, and you didn’t know if you could take care of yourself if you did make it home. So here you were on your way to dump your problems on Taehyun. 

You barely managed to walk up the 3 steps to his front door, pressing the doorbell as many times as you could out of urgency.

“Shit-” You coughed, feeling a bit of blood collect in your mouth. You spat it out on the pavement, feeling your head pound and your body lose the strength to stand. Taehyun opened the door, confusion turning to shock turning to worry as he took in the sight in front of him

You were beat up. Badly. Taehyun felt angry— at himself for not being able to stop this, and at whoever did this to you. But he would save his anger for later. He stepped forward, catching you just before you were about to hit the wall.

“Hey- just stay awake, okay? Just… stay with me.” He whispered, looking back into his house quickly. His bedroom was the best place, he decided. It would be comfy and close enough that you didn’t have to climb stairs. He supported you (and half-carried you) to his room, setting you down as gently as possible on his bed.

You coughed again, wincing at the pain and clutching your stomach that had been kicked too many times to count. It felt like you were still being rammed again and again with the heavy steel-toed boot of that man. If only you could’ve done something else.

“T-taehyun-” You whispered, willing yourself to stay awake and keep your eyes open. He was at your side immediately, eyes wide and waiting for you to say something else. He wanted to grab the first-aid kit that was stored in the bathroom, but he didn’t dare leave your side.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He knew you weren’t, but he didn’t know what else to say. 

You grimaced, “Do you have water?” He nodded quickly, hesitating to leave your side, “I just want water.” You said again, and he finally left to go get it. He was back in 2 seconds, handing you the cup gently and making sure you were okay before going to get the first-aid kit.

“Where are you hurt?” He spoke softly, like if he raised his voice to normal speaking tone you would crack. You appreciated his concern either way. It was something you rarely got from him— at least not in the past 4 years.

“Stomach and face. I think that’s it.” You spoke, voice shaking a bit, but at least you could get words out.

Taehyun nodded, grabbing the disinfectant. You lifted up your shirt slightly, exposing your gruesomely bruised stomach, decorated with a few cuts as well. Taehyun gasped and then gulped, tears pricking at his waterline, but he blinked them away. If anyone should be crying in this situation, it should be you, not him.

But seeing you like this was the worst thing he could think of. He cared about you, and you both knew it deep down. The difference was, he chose to accept it, while you were in denial. 

His teasing was a way of showing his affection towards you, and competing against you was just an excuse to gain your attention. Whenever he stopped by your house with sandwiches and raspberry lemonade it wasn’t just chance that it happened to be your favourite. Taehyun knew it was your favourite, which is why he did it. Practically everything he did was centred around you, you just hadn’t quite realised it yet.

Taehyun’s fingertips lightly grazed one of your cuts, his touch soft enough that you could barely feel it. He started disinfecting it, and you tried to ignore the small stinging pain. Taehyun told you to squeeze his hand if it ever got too painful, and you listened to him, clutching his hand tightly. 

But you wouldn’t cry. It would hurt your pride, you thought. You hadn’t cried in front of Taehyun since you were 4. 

“How did this happen? Who did this to you?” Taehyun whispered once most of your injuries were taken care of. You opened your mouth, about to tell him everything, but then you backtracked.

“You’ll think it’s dumb.” You said, looking away and Taehyun’s eyes widened. The look of hurt on his face when you said that was not one you were used to. He never thought that anything you said was dumb. Ever. Every beautiful word that came out of your mouth, he savoured and recalled on days when he missed you. So why would you think he would judge you for telling him what was going on?

“It’s okay. You can tell me. I won’t judge.” He said, eyes boring into yours as his words hit you somewhere deep. You thought back on your years and years of spending time with him. No matter how many times you had said he was aggravating and you couldn’t stand him, he had still been there for you.

He had never given up on you or left you, even if you had wanted him to. If you had fought one night, the next day he was there eating lunch with you. And you were just now starting to appreciate that fact as you heard him promise that he wouldn’t judge.

You started explaining everything to him as tears slipped down your cheeks slowly. You told him about the men and how your brother was in debt, and how they were after you now that they had tracked you down. You explained how this was what was stressing you, and not your studies. 

He stayed quiet while you talked, listening to every word you said, saying a soft “go on” whenever you took a pause, and nodding when you needed affirmation. He wiped your tears occasionally. It was an excuse to be closer to you, as well as the fact that he hated to see you cry.

“So… you’re in debt because of your brother. And they beat you up because you didn’t have the money.” Taehyun summarised and you dropped your head, nodding shamefully. You probably sounded stupid and desperate and weak right now, and you couldn’t quite understand why Taehyun hadn’t left you by now. 

The answer to that question was simple, though. And Taehyun could explain it to you in just 3 words. 

He cupped your cheek softly, distracting you from the pain with the galaxies in his eyes as they looked at you fondly. “Will you let me help you?” He asked, praying that you would accept his request without a fight.

“Why?” Your tone was heavy, referencing more than what he had just asked with your question, “Why do you care?” You asked more specifically, dying to know the answer.

“Because I love you.” He admitted, letting it out even though he was nervous about what your response might be. He wasn’t anticipating feeling your lips moving against his a second later, but he was grateful for it. He knew it was your way of accepting his offer and telling him that you felt the same way.

He would figure out what to do about the men later. For now, he just wanted to focus on you. He kissed you back, pouring all his love into it. This kiss felt different. It was more genuine, more delicate. It meant more to both of you. 

You wished you could relive it again when you finally pulled away, but you curled up into Taehyun’s chest instead. You were exhausted. You pulled on Taehyun’s hand softly, your head hitting the fluffy pillow as you led Taehyun to lie down next to you.

He stared at you, one hand stroking your cheek while the other found its way to your hand that lay on the bed. He intertwined you fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I love you.” You said, realising you hadn’t said it properly in words when he did. Your eyes were still closed and you didn’t bother to open them. 

You felt Taehyun’s lips make contact with your temple in soft kiss before he whispered, “I know… Now, sleep.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ txt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @90steele,, @ddenoudepression

[casuallyimagining]

Big Thoughts | myg

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Yoongi's late night confession spurs some deep thoughts. Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, slice of life Word Count: 2,496 Warnings: intrusive thoughts

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic for beta-ing. And thanks to @btsstan12 for the gorgeous banner!

Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here.

It was late. Ridiculously late. Yoongi had showed up on your doorstep almost an hour ago, exhausted but wanting to hang out for at least a little bit before you both passed out. It had been almost a week since you’d seen him last, and you’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t nice to have him with you, even if it was three in the morning and you could barely keep your eyes open.

He’d wanted to watch the newest episode of your favorite sci-fi/fantasy series, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d watched it without him, days ago when it first came out. You’d cuddled up together on your bed, snug under the covers and warm in his arms, your head on his chest as you fought sleep. Yoongi himself had been quiet for a while, though you weren’t sure if it was because he was as tired as you were, or if he was really that invested in the space cowboy and his tiny wizard son. 

You sighed and snuggled further into him, recognizing that the end of the episode was coming soon. Yoongi’s arm tightened around you. So he wasn’t quite asleep yet. You felt him yawn, felt the rise of his chest as he inhaled deeply, felt him shake his head in an attempt to ward off the sleep. He groped for the remote as soon as the end credits started to run, turning off the tv and dropping the remote on the side table before pulling you somehow closer. His legs tangled with yours as he got comfortable, nuzzling ever so gently into your hair.

“‘Night, jagi, ” he mumbled, the gravel of sleep already starting to take hold of his voice. “I love you.”

You froze, your brain the equivalent of radio static “Oh,” was the only thing you could manage. “‘Night.”

He didn’t react, but mentally, you slapped yourself. What the everloving fuck was wrong with you?

You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat, with a sour taste in your mouth and three words stuck in your throat.

When you woke up the next morning, you were immediately struck by how soft the surface under your head was. Without even opening your eyes, you could tell you’d been given an actual pillow sometime throughout the night instead of the boyfriend-shaped one you’d fallen asleep with. Blindly, you reached out, groping around the side of the bed to try to find him–perhaps he’d just rolled away–but no luck. You cracked open an eye, immediately regretting the action with the invasion of light through the barely open curtains, and confirmed: no Yoongi.

You groaned, allowing yourself a moment to wallow.

Oh. Who the fuck responds to someone saying ‘I love you’ for the first time with oh? Especially an I love you from the person that you most absolutely, desperately, unabashedly wanted to hear it from. You loved him, too. Or, at least, you thought you did. Six hours ago, though, apparently, your vocal chords decided they wanted to have a think about it.

You couldn’t have dreamed of a more perfect partner than Yoongi. You had been nervous at first, what with the fact that he was world-famous and you were, well, very much not that. And sure, he was busy. His schedule was hectic and he was constantly going, but he chose to hang out with you. Like, willingly. He’d made a shared Google Calendar so he could make sure he was spending time with you. In the beginning, you’d thought that maybe he would come around every once in a while, that maybe you were just a bit of a fun–hopefully not temporary–reprieve from his life that he would indulge in whenever he happened to have a spare five minutes.

Instead, he would drop his keys into the bowl by your front door and collapse onto the couch with you, his arm around your shoulders, and watch a few hours of television before crawling into bed and falling asleep with your arm firmly around his middle. He sought you out, through text and video chat and phone calls, as often as he could. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind now that he actually wanted to be with you.

And, god, you wanted to hang out with him, too. You loved hanging out with him, craved it, never wanted to stop hanging out with him. You’d known him for a grand total of less than a year, and yet he was your best friend, your closest confidante, the person you turned to when you needed comfort, or a shoulder, or just a joke. He was… everything.

And yet ‘oh.’

You groaned, kicking your legs angrily for a moment, before forcing yourself to stand. Normally, you’d talk through something like this with Yoongi–he’d seen plenty of your dumb, stupid brain shit by now. But it was more complicated now that the issue involved him. It didn’t matter, though, because he wasn’t even here. Rarely did you go to sleep with him and wake up with him there. He was far too busy. This, it seemed, was just business as normal, as usual.

But as you tugged a hoodie over your body and you trudged your way out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, a presence forced you to pause in the doorway. There, in your kitchen, leaning with his forearms on the counter, was Yoongi. His hair was a mess, with strands sticking this way and that, and he looked like he’d barely slept. But he was there.

You inhaled sharply and briefly considered making an about-face and retreating right back into your room, but he looked up almost immediately and you were caught. His eyes fell back to his phone–you presumed he was scrolling through the news. The less he said, the smaller you felt, and suddenly, you were nervous.

“You’re still here,” you noted, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the pit quickly forming in your stomach. You watched him carefully as you opened the fridge, pulling out a small can of orange juice. You couldn’t tell if he was mad–you’d never seen him actually mad before, so you weren’t really sure what that looked like. “I thought you worked today?”

“I don’t have to be there until one. Do you want breakfast?”

“Oh!” The monster, back for a second round of massacring your relationship. “Uh… sure.”

He nodded, and you moved out of the way, easily swapping places with him so he could open your fridge. It wasn’t the first time Yoongi had cooked for you in your own kitchen, but it was the first time it was… weird. Not uncomfortable necessarily, but weird. You slid into one of the stools at your counter, the tiny bar allowing you to watch Yoongi as he busied himself with pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

Long minutes passed in silence, every one seeming to stretch ad infinitum, and the longer you stared at his back, the more you felt like you had to say something.

“Hey, so listen,” you said softly, playing with the tab of your orange juice can. He hummed, signaling that he was listening, but he didn’t turn around. You weren’t sure if that was good or bad. “About last night…”

“I get it.” Carefully, he chopped green onions, the quiet thwack, thwack, thwack doing nothing to soothe your nerves. “Don’t feel like you have to say it, too. I don’t mind if you take your time.”

“That’s not it at all!” You said it quickly, but as soon as it left your mouth, you knew it was true. He was Yoongi–your Yoongi–and having him around brought you more comfort than you could possibly say. In such a short time, he’d become something more than your best friend, more than your boyfriend. He’d become something akin to home, a soft, warm place to land when times were bad. “I… I just…” You sighed, eyes falling from his back to your hands on the counter in front of you. “I’m not sure how to do this. I’m not sure how to do relationships like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know.” When you looked up at him again, he was facing you, leaning back against the counter beside your stovetop. A perfectly chopped pile of green onions sat beside him on the cutting board. “I grew up surrounded by people who spent decades of their life with someone they didn’t love, let alone like.”

“Do you really think I’d string you along like that?”

“Well… no…”

“But?”

“It’s the sunk cost fallacy, right? Humans are just as susceptible to inertia as everything else. Things start off great, but slowly, they become good. And then fine. And then okay. And you’ve been together too long to just walk away. Dating again after so long is scary. And it’s not like things are actually bad. They aren’t great, but they aren’t bad. You don’t hate each other, so that’s a plus, right?”

“Sure, maybe, but-”

“-But then time passes, and you start to fight more and more, but that’s just what living with someone for 20 years is like, right? After a while, you get sick of each other, you’ve spent too much time together.” You spoke quickly. Now that you’d started, it was like a dam had broken, the thoughts flowing out of your mouth almost as soon as they formed, unceasing. “The heat just keeps getting turned up and up and up until before you know it, you’re a 75-year-old lobster boiling in his own pot of water, and there’s not much you can do except deal with it. You’ve been together so long, it’s the least you can do, right? Not much time left together. And you don’t hate each other, but you don’t particularly like each other either, and it’s scary to imagine the other not there, even if somewhere inside of you wishes it was someone else.”

Eventually, your mind stopped racing and you ran out of things to say. You hadn’t noticed it while you were talking–your focus had mostly been on the half-empty orange juice can in your hands–but Yoongi had left the spot across from you, moving around the breakfast bar so that he was nearly standing beside you. Deep brown eyes focused on you, curious, but not judging. He almost seemed sad, his brow a little furrowed as he silently listened. 

“That’s quite a big thought.” His voice was soft, warm as honey and full of concern. “It’s tough. I’m sure that a lot of people do end up stuck in relationships like that. But–and feel free to correct me if you don’t agree–but when you get down to it, I think this happens most often to people who choose partners solely for maybe one or two good things.”

“Right.”

He was much closer now, his chest practically brushing against your shoulder. You could feel the heat of his body–or maybe you were imagining it, you weren’t quite sure. It was weird. If anyone else stood this close to you, you almost certainly would have felt your skin crawling. But with Yoongi, it was comforting.

“But by that logic,” carefully, he took your hands, pulling you off the stool so that you were standing in front of him, “I think that perhaps we don’t fall into that category.” His eyes flitted around your face, checking in with you silently before he said anything else.

“I just… don’t want us to end up like my parents,” you told him softly, reaching out and gently balling your hand in the softness of his t-shirt. “I don’t know if they started out loving each other, or how they got to where they are, but god, it sucked to be stuck between them and to constantly walk on eggshells.”

“That must have been hard.”

“I didn’t even realize that married couples could joke around and have fun until I met one of my professor’s husbands when I was in college.” You sighed, and Yoongi took a step closer, his arms carefully winding their way around you. “I don’t want to be 40 and realize that we fucked up somewhere along the way, you know?”

He nodded, brown eyes meeting yours. “Long relationships are hard,” he admitted, his thumbs drawing gentle circles into your back. “I’m not saying that things will always be perfect all the time. I don’t know what the future holds. But what I do know is that I love you. I don’t foresee that changing, but if it does, we will not become your parents. At the risk of sounding like I'm bragging, we know how to communicate. We argue, sure, but I don't know that I would consider you forcing me out of the studio at three in the morning to be a fight.”

"You're just stubborn," you mumble, tugging at the material of his shirt.

"I am." He laughed, placing a kiss on your forehead. "You're my best friend outside of Bangtan. I tell you everything.” You didn't mind being in second place behind the other members. As curmudgeonly as Yoongi could be about them, you knew they were brothers in all but blood. He continued. "I know you always have my back. I hope you know that goes both ways." You nodded, and he whispered a soft 'good'.

He fell silent, then, pulling you a little closer into a proper hug. His arms tightened around your waist, holding you firmly yet gently, as if he was afraid that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. You hooked your chin over his shoulder, appreciating the warmth of him, of his actions, of his words. He was rarely like this, but somehow, he seemed to know what you needed. He swayed you gently back and forth, a soothing motion you weren’t even sure he was conscious of. And as you stood there in the kitchen, whatever Yoongi had been attempting to make for breakfast all but forgotten, it finally bubbled to the surface.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, squeezing him slightly. “I’m sorry my brain sucks sometimes.”

“All brains suck sometimes.” You felt him shrug, felt the rumble of his voice as he spoke. “And I know. You wouldn’t have had to say it. Your giant crush on me is not very subtle.”

You hummed. “Then I don’t need to say it again.”

Immediately, his grip on you tightened, holding you impossibly closer and shaking you back and forth. “No!” he whined. “That’s not what I meant!”

The two of you dissolved into giggles, the heaviness of the previous moments forgotten, the cloud of awkwardness entirely gone. You hummed as Yoongi pulled away, stealing a kiss from him as he let you go to resume cooking. As you watched him crack eggs into a skillet, you felt a little flutter in your stomach. 

Perhaps, together, things would be okay. 

Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here.

[shoegazingmonad]

Classpecting the Candy / Omega kids

I've been hellbent on trying to classpect these 4 kids and after spending hours analysing every scene each kid appears in, the narration and anything used to describe them, and their conversations I believe I may have finally reached a conclusion for all 4 of them. Here's the fruits of the most arduous labour I've ever been put through in the form of a huge ol' text post then, I guess!

Tavros Crocker

Tavvy's currently my favourite and he's the one who started this classpecting spree so I'm going with him first.

At surface level he isn't visibly a very angry or aggressive kid like Rage would suggest, but the first time we see him in HS2 is when he's having to bother with Gamzee's corpse which leads to him screaming, kicking and punching his corpse and then feeling something he 'refuses to call fear' that, based on the description, seems to be some kind of repressed anger. Also in a similarity not-so-visible at first kind of way, he's a little chaotic unintentionally (or passively). It doesn't appear as the large scale destructive chaos Gamzee causes, instead it comes across as him simply being clumsy like when he breaks a jester on accident in John's house and gets Gamzee's shoe stuck on him which causes them all to fall in the school. Despite being a very orderly and passive person (thanks to his upbringing) he's shown enjoying a little bit of chaos and feels somewhat comfortable in the presence of confident people who actively cause it like Vriska.

Even at Tavvy's first appearance in the Epilogues at age 5, he's incredibly intuitive and pacifistic but whenever he's shown trying to pacify or reason (which comes off as very meddling adjacent) with another character it only makes them more angry, sad, confused or scared / worried, in a way that would suggest he 'Makes Rage' for others like how a Sylph of Rage would. There're a few instances where he makes 'rage', like Harry's birthday party in which it's said 'John's heart wrenches at the sigh of him (Tavvy)' and John tries to kidnap him because he pities his cruel homelife and wants to help Jake out, but he ends up so mad his breath powers destroy the room. It isn't always rage as extreme as that though, sometimes it's made in the way he's viewed as a wimpy loser by people like Harry, or when he tries to understand and explain why a person may be feeling unhappy or stressed about an event or the situation they're in (often with Vrissy). Over analysing and explaining people's feelings or words is a pretty big part of his character and it's one that makes the Sylph part terribly obvious.

However we've yet to see much hatred towards lying as described in the Extended Zodiac definition. He doesn't agree with his Mother's wrong and cruel views on trolls, even though he grew up pretty sheltered and probably should've picked those views up. He also understands Gamzee isn't a good person despite the attempts to instill otherwise through the whole 'redemption arc' propaganda, so maybe he simply notices lies easier than other people do and / or leans more towards just explaining / passively combating misinformation rather than committing to the destruction of it thanks to his nature as a Sylph? Gonna have to wait to get more on this it seems.

Harry Anderson Egbert

Harry's probably the one that took the least amount of time for me to get the gist of what he was about because taking his time (like a Thief of Time) is apparently what he does best. It, like time in general, is brought up constantly with him. He mentions atomic clocks the first time we see him, he takes too long talking to Vriska, Tavros finds him typically 'slow to respond', when he's trying to choose his strife specibus he struggles a little with the time limit, he has a car ride with John and apologises for how long it took for him to be done, in her recent appearance Vrissy mentions he 'can't go five minutes without pestering her over something', and his morning routine suggests he takes his time tending to his appearance. Though just time in general isn't the only thing associated with the aspect, in his conversation with Tavvy at night he asks 'what does it feel like to know someone who's died?', and death is another reocurring theme with Time.

He's a fan of remakes of old earth movies (remaking a movie involves taking the idea / liberties for yourself) and enjoys making costumes. Though the cloth, needles and stitching could suggest he's a space player as we've seen them take a particular interest in clothing / fashion, or things like the 'fabric of space', this could be because the opposite of a Thief of Time (someone who steals time for themself) is a Knight of Space (someone who serves space for others). But the costumes he makes take up most of his 'free time', and his sewing machine was given to him at 10 to stop him borrowing Roxy's all the time. In his little scarf sequence he's also shown wearing a scarf that looks Hephaestus themed, which is the Denizen of Dave's planet and presumably the Denizen associated with time players.

Almost everything about this guy screams 'Time' to the point I'm questioning whether they're making it super obvious to throw people off.

Though an issue I have with the Time aspect specifically here is that it wouldn't fit the 'aspects we haven't seen in the beta and alpha kids' trend we've got going on with the others. Mind/Rage/Blood/Doom but instead it's Mind/Rage/Blood/Time? Might make more sense in the future if there's any additions to the group to make up for that.

Yiffany Longstocking Lalonde Harley

Funnily enough, Yiffy, the kid we've seen the least of so far and haven't even gotten any proper dialogue from was still somehow way easier for me to classpect than Vrissy, the first kid we see and the one with the most appearances.

Bards, as Calliope (seemingly correctly, based on what we've seen of them) states, are a 'wildcard' with a spontaneous story-altering influence who can cause the 'spectacular downfall' or 'improbable victory' of the group. Bard of Mind would loosely mean 'someone who allows logic / mind to be destroyed or invites destruction through logic / mind', and from what we've seen of our new dog kid they sure do manage to bring about victory through the destruction of logic / the logic they impose because of their existence!

Their entire existence is quite literally an anti-logic bomb due to their creation, life, and character being a product of the Candy timeline's slow disintegration into nothingness now that there's no more narrator or space cherub looking after it. They're a character who shouldn't and couldn't exist if we're to consider the rules of canon, but they do and they kick ass because of it! Candy Jane, the fascist dictator billionaire baker baroness who seems to practically own or rule over everything that's within Candy Earth C puts them in a shock collar with enough volts to immobilize or kill - and they still get up and desecrate a shitty other-bards funeral, all whilst the panels of them show jolts of electricity with similar colour and shape to Terezi's mind powers!

Jane even starts listing all of the reasons Yiffy shouldn't be acting up during their revolt; from the assistance she'd given their parents, to what Rose and Jade would think of them if they saw them behaving like this, and that she has agents ready to deal with them if she continues. But Yiffy doesn't listen to a single one of them. They simply growl, slap the remote out of her hand, and proceed to boot Gamzee's corpse into the crowd. The logic and reasoning others try to apply to situations is something they blatantly disregard.

Also, steering into the aforementioned Terezi and Mind aspect territory here; when Terezi is discussing with Ult Dirk about how she's able to see his narration and why Rose can't despite also being a Seer, she tells him aspects that oppose eachother (e.g. Heart and Mind) 'define each other on a fundamental level', seemingly allowing the opposing aspects to pick up on the presence of the other better than non-opposing ones would. And the only mention of Yiffy by someone outside of the Candy timeline is when Dirk is messaging Hussie and it leads to a tangent about the implications and him saying 'her very existence feels like broken glass screeching over my frontal lobe' which would be a pretty fitting description for how he views another Destroyer class with the Mind aspect as a Destroyer of Heart.

Vriska Maryam-Lalonde

I've been struggling with Vrissy for a while now but since her reveal there's been this consistent 'I know a guy' theme for her that I don't think could mean anything besides Blood. Mage though? Not as sure as I am with her aspect considering we barely have any strict definitions for them compared to any other classes thanks to the lack of their presence in Homestuck. I do think that she's some kind of knowledge class though, and luckily we've got a Blood version of the Mage's accompanying knowledge-based class the Seer; Kankri. And comparing him to her, she doesn't actively participate in seeking out knowledge in the same way he and other Seers do, instead it looks like knowledge of her aspect comes to her more naturally like Doom does for Sollux and Heart does for Meulin.

Her first appearance in the epilogues is the scene where her and Harry are meeting up. They kiss, and Harry has to wipe a bit of blood off of his mouth. Vrissy proceeds to bring up Meenah and Karkat's relationship (which I'm gonna bring up again later), hinting at her affinity for close bonds between people.

The first time we get to see her in Homestuck 2 is when she's interacting with Vriska, who's a Thief of Light and not a Blood player or Mage, but she literally shares her blood colour and upon meeting her she immediately tries to befriend / form a bond with her. The scene that comes before this conversation, is one that involves her interrupting Vriska in the midst of the most blatant depiction of 'bonding' we could get (bonds being a huge part of Blood as an aspect) aka, sex.

Out of everything in Vrissy's life, it's reiterated that she thinks her relationships with others are the most practical and important part of it. Like Tavvy, her kismesis. He should have a typical tempestuous blackrom relationship with her, but they still genuine care about eachother enough that she feels like she 'can't lose him'. She trusts that he won't tattle on her and Tavvy knows that despite her cool indifferent front she's got some troubles of her own and tries his best to understand them. And in the same scene in the previous link, Tavvy also hints at Vrissy's frustration towards bonds being broken, specifically in reference to a 'mutual' bond online that he assumes is a 'sacred bond of trust'. Her matespritship with Harry is also very stable, and whenever they interact there's clearly mutual care and reliance on eachother even when we see some screw ups or arguing from either of them. Her friendship with Vriska is all good at first too, but she quickly realises that Vriska isn't trying to form a genuine mutual connection with her as much as she's trying to create a student of her likeness so she can feel smug about it.

Focusing a little bit more on the Mage part here, the scene where Jade and Rose inform the others in the tower about Yiffany; Vrissy and Kanaya are the only ones agitated and she mentions later in her texts with Tavvy that she feels like she was the only one who was mad about not knowing Yiffy existed, and for a Mage of Blood (a role dedicated to knowing about relations), learning you somehow weren't aware of a close blood relative like a half-sister must be infuriating.

Other general Classpect stuff

Anyway now that I've got all of the main reasons for why I think those kids are what Classpects; I just want to bring up the interactions between the 4 of them and characters outside of their friendgroup, parents, Vriska and how they might correlate to them.

Starting with Tavvy, currently his significant interactions with other characters have been with Gamzee, a Rage player, in the Epilogues and Kanaya, our only Sylph on Earth C.

Harry's not had too many important interactions with anyone outside the group, but when he's texting Vrissy at night he says he went to get some water but the adults were discussing something and he didn't want to interrupt. This scene is after the Yiffy reveal and John finds out about Dave's death when talking with Jade at some point we don't get to see directly, but according to Harry the conversation they were having seemed quite serious, so that could've been when they were discussing Dave. And besides Aradia, Dave was our only other time player on Earth C. He's previously had quite a few positive interactions with Dave as well, shown in Candy 23. There's also another interesting (and too specific for me to disregard) comment from Meenah about her going to Harry Anderson's birthday party, perhaps hinting at him as a Thief. However John has a lengthy conversation with Sollux, who has apparently been getting to know Roxy which could suggest he might be Doom if we consider that they're both Harry's parents?

Vrissy's meeting with Vriska should mean some kind of link with her as a Thief / Light player but so far she doesn't have any Thief of Light traits at all. Returning to Vrissy's first conversation with Harry in the Epilogues, the one where says that her and Harry could run away and join the rebellion and be 'wild rebels in love, like Karkat and Meenah', her comparison of their relationship to another between a Knight of Blood and a Thief of Life could imply that either of them share a aspect / class with one of those two; which I'm guessing would be Blood for Vrissy and Thief for Harry, because Harry says he doesn't have the 'rebellious stature of someone like Karkat' and he jokes about how he couldn't lose an eye like Karkat did, leading to a retort from Vrissy claiming she'll be the one with the eye patch. 7 chapters after this she actually informs Harry that she got a place in Karkat's rebellion thanks to her parents (who aren't blood related to her but she trusts and relies heavily on them like she does others). There doesn't seem to be any specific interactions for the Mage part as of now though.

And as I already stated earlier, Yiffy's linked with Gamzee (our only Bard) due to her presence at his funeral and the electric lighting we see from the collar used on them has a similar colour + shape to Mind abilities we've previously seen with Terezi, which is pretty much the best we can get with no Mind player available on Candy Earth C.

The last possible hints I'd like to bring up are weapons. We only know 2 out of 4 right now but Vrissy uses a pair of dice bound to each other and Harry uses what is arguably the slowest cutting weapon we've seen in all of Homestuck so far, a pair of scissors, which can also be to 'steal' things when used to cut off part of something you need for yourself.

That's all I've got. Took so much skimming between the Epilogues and HS2 but this was pretty fun and I'm looking forward to getting more on the kids and their classpects. I might end up adding more onto this at a later date when we're more well-informed and have a lot more text to make use of but as of now I'm done with this

[theflyingfeeling]

Eighteenth Day of Gift-Giving: Aches

Prompt: "Just focus on me and try to relax."

This is the prompt I asked a little help with, and here's the result! I wanted to bring back the airport saga one more time, the previous part of which can be found here (although I'm afraid you still won't get to learn how Niko and Tommi are doing at the bar, sorry). This piece was sort of inspired by several prompts on the list, but this was the only one I included as it is. Enjoy 🖤

~

Joel’s head hurt. His eyes hurt. His back hurt from lying on the floor. His jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. His palms hurt from his nails digging into them in an attempt to mute all the other pain into something more harmless and bearable, but it only made him more frustrated. The only part of him that wasn’t hurting was a small patch of his skin near his collarbone where Joonas’ thumb worked in a circular motion. It wasn’t much, but definitely more than what Joel deserved after having complained the entire day, as if everyone else wasn’t as tired and irked about the situation; he was just the one being a huge bitch about it. 

And then there was Joonas. Joonas, who always knew better than to bother Tommi when he sat still with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. Joonas, who would let Niko borrow his powerbank charger even though he was running on 8% himself, just so he could call Minna to wish her good night before he'd climb to his bunk. Joonas, who had made everyone promise they wouldn’t comment on whatever Olli and Aleksi had going on between them, because apparently they were yet to figure it out themselves and that they should be left to do that in peace, on their own terms. 

Yeah, there was no way in hell Joel was worthy of Joonas’ solicitude. Not even a little bit, Joel decided and turned to his side on the new-ish hardwood flooring of the airport lounge, even though it made him feel even more uncomfortable and pained. 

Only then he noticed that the only other part of his body that wasn’t hurting, apart from the little piece of skin Joonas had been caressing, had been the back of his head. 

Because Joonas’ arm had been there this whole time, keeping his head from dropping to the cold, hard floor.

The arm was now protecting his temple and showing no signs of moving from under him. It must have gone numb by now, although Joel wasn’t sure how long they had been lying there. It might have been only five minutes, but with Joel’s sense of time being manipulated by his agony, it could've also been five hours for all he knew.

“Do you want me to go?”

Joel sighed. He was surprised by the smallness of his own voice when he heard himself speak.

“I bet the sofa would be more comfortable.”

“For sure, but do you want me to go?”

It’s not that Joel hadn’t known his answer the first time Joonas asked him. He just didn’t know how to ask Joonas to stay without feeling like he was asking too much.

Too much, as in more than what he was worthy of. 

Joonas, however, took his silence as an affirmative answer and tried to slide his arm from under Joel’s head. Instinctively – or not knowing what else to do to have his way; to selfishly keep Joonas by his side – Joel grabbed Joonas’ hand to keep it in place. Joonas stopped in his tracks that very second, and two more later, intertwined their fingers, and in doing so, stopped the entire world around Joel.

For a fleeting second, there was no half-empty airport lounge, no fog outside the enormous windows keeping them as its prisoners. There was just Joonas' hand in his, and it shattered his world.

Joel wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy. He simply wouldn't let it happen, not with Joonas, not with anyone. Fleeing before anyone got too close to him never made him too proud of himself, but he didn't know anything else.

He couldn’t really explain why. It scared him, he supposed. Even now, his entire body shivered and his chest felt tight with something Joel did not know how to put into words.

He was thankful that at least with Joonas, he never had to; Joel sometimes felt as if the guy could read his thoughts, which was a comfort as much as it was a nuisance.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh.” Joonas ran his hand up and down Joel’s arm. “Breathe, Joel. Just breathe.”

It was incredible how Joonas knew he was suffocating even before Joel realised it himself.

Joel squeezed his eyes closed and tried to imagine himself some place else, just anywhere that wasn’t a room half filled with strangers, many of them probably gawking at them and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. 

I’m what’s wrong with me, Joel wanted to tell them. I’m so wrong and broken that I’m on the verge of a panic attack by having lowered my walls enough for my best friend to fucking comfort me when I need him the most, nothing else to see here, thank you and have a nice day.

“Joel.”

He could barely hear Joonas’ voice. He couldn’t tell if it was because it was so quiet or because his heartbeat was so loud in his ears.

“Joel. Please turn around. I want to help you. Please.”

Maybe it was the calming tone of Joonas’ voice. Maybe it was the movement of Joonas’ hand on his arm, or the fact his other hand was still clasping Joel’s, tight as if to keep him from falling off a cliff. Whatever it was, something made Joel do as Joonas asked, and he turned slowly, first to lie on his back for a moment, then to face Joonas. 

He kept his eyes shut, for he found some kind of strange comfort in the darkness. Sometimes it terrified him to death, but with Joonas’ soft voice speaking to him, Joel suddenly felt as if nothing would.

It took him a minute, maybe two, for Joel to find his normal breathing rhythm again. Somehow it matched perfectly with the pattern of Joonas’, which made it easier, Joel guessed. He didn’t even try to understand it; one moment he’s a trembling mess, a prey animal who had digged inside a leaf pile trying to hide its own heartbeat, and in the next he’s boneless and warm under Joonas’ touch, his blood finally flowing to his limbs again.

“Just… focus on me and try to relax. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m here, Joel. You’re safe.”

I know.

~*~

"Joel. Hey, Joel, we're going."

The headache wasn't gone, but Joel supposed he had managed to fall asleep for a short while, since keeping his eyes open wasn't such a strenuous task any more. There was a slight pain in his neck, but he felt warm, even when Joonas lifted the leather jacket he had put on him at some point.

Maybe, against all odds, he'd make it back home alive.

"They're boarding us soon."

Joel could only nod at the information. His entire body felt heavy, possibly too heavy for the plane to take off with him inside it, if Joel was to count on his luck.

Only at the boarding queue he had the strength to lift his head and take in his surroundings. He saw members of the crew, yawning tapping on their phone cases. There was Tommi and under his arm almost sleeping Niko, perhaps a little tipsy if the shade of his gaze was anything to go by. Behind them, Olli and Aleksi's eyes kept wandering back to each other time after time, quick smiles visiting their lips each time they caught the other staring. They way their hands kept fumbling with each other, almost teasingly before shying away again, implied they would've holded hands if they had been some place else that wasn't an international airport.

Joel could relate: his hand was no good for anything without Joonas holding it.

~*~

The time on Joel's phone was nearing four in the morning when they finally stepped out of the taxi. It wasn't unsual to him to be awake at that hour, more often than not against his will, however.

His tired eyes blurred when he stared at the front door of his apartment building. Joonas' would be a few blocks down the street; close enough for Joel to stomp to whenever he ran out of oat milk.

(The nearest grocery store with an entire shelf full of Joel's favourite brand was about as close in the opposite direction, but Joonas wouldn't be there.)

"D'you wanna stay at mine?"

(And they wouldn't read Joel's mind at the grocery store the way Joonas always did.)

[bluiex]

Got a little idea of how the aftermath of Grian breeding Scar in the scp thing could go but I added in angst hehe. Kinda Dubious consent because Grian is mentioned to not be in the right state of mind (he got drugged) and Scar thought it best to let Grian do what they wanted while in that state.

~~~~

He takes a gasping breath as the creature, a bird/human thing named Grian, finally pulls out of him after a way too long 'play' session. A groan escapes from him soon after, feeling something begin to leak out of his very abused hole. Their blankets are going to be so messy from this…

Grian had come to him rather frantic, looking as disheveled as they were acting, and babbling about 'something being wrong' and 'the water has a different taste' before collapsing backwards into the pile of blankets that make up his bed. He got a little concerned when they continued to shake and mumble things under their breath even after collapsing. And because he couldn't just leave them to what he thought as a manic episode, he went up to them. He talked to them in a calm voice, thinking loud noise would set them off ranting again, and tried asking them questions about what they meant. 

Then he made the mistake of touching them when he realized they weren't hearing anything of what he was saying. The way their eyes snapped to him, like they finally realized he was there…It was like they weren't completely there in their own head. Like they had escaped to a corner of their mind and something else took up their seat. Like an animal was looking at him and sizing him up…

And then he apparently took his hand back way too quickly, because Grian pounced on him seconds after, pulling and manhandling him into the pile and underneath them. Lips were on his neck and hands were pulling at his pants maybe minutes after that. And when he helped them out with undoing the button keeping his suit’s butt flap close, his fate was sealed.

"Finally got it out of your system, Gri?" He asks, trying to make light out of the situation where there isn't much to find. "Got yourself back in order?"

He hears only faint chirps and warbles from the bird man, and he doesn't blame them for their lack of words. He is much more worn out from this one as compared to other ones they had. But of course, those ones were more about touching and sometimes oral than this impromptu one they had…

Because this one had a much different purpose than the other ones…

More warbles can be heard as Grian presses themselves into his side and grabs at his shoulders with shaky hands. He gently shushes the smaller birdman, the best he can do to comfort  them at the moment until he gets feeling back into his arms.

“I know baby, I know…I don’t blame you for this. I know you didn’t want to do this so soon, and definitely not in here. I know who is truly responsible for all this.”

He can feel Grian shaking at his side, face pressed against his orange clothes in an attempt to muffle their sounds.

“They played dirty, didn’t they? Doing something to our water to make you do this…It’s not fair, is it? They'll do anything to get what they want, won't they…”

“I don’t want to lose our baby…” Grian says, voice muffled but still sounding like it might break. “I don’t want them to take our hatchlings…”

“I know. I know, Gri…”

“It’s not fair…Why does it have to be my babies? Why do my children have to get taken away from me?”

“I don’t know, sunshine…I just don’t know.”

“I just want to be able to meet them…I want to hold them, to protect them, to have them for more than five minutes…”

“You will, Gri. One day you will.”

One of Grian’s wings stretches out over him, lying on top of his body as Grian tries to press themselves even closer to him. Fate has not been kind to either of them over the years, opting more to spit in their faces than give them happy lives. And with this situation, fate has given them probably the worst challenge of their lives...

But maybe one day soon, fate will have their just deserts. Fate will learn that people will take their lives into their own hands. And fate can learn to deal with it.

Gods I love it

My heart

[chooseruin]

Fictober day 1, belated: "I chose you."

Wolf 359, pre-canon, Jacobi and Maxwell. No plot only banter and awkward intimacy.

When he gets back from the shower, Maxwell's lying flopped across the shitty hotel bed like a kid's doll thrown from the top of a building. Face down. The angles of her arms and legs don't look comfortable, or Euclidean. According to pop culture, basically every woman in the developed world wants to be as long and narrow as Maxwell; except for Maxwell, who apparently wants to be a squished cranefly.

She's already wearing her sleep mask, so he makes a point of clomping on his way over. If she's awake with her eyes covered while someone's there, it usually means she's pretty chilled, but no one really needs to repeat the experience of startling Alana Maxwell up from drowsing. Especially not at close range. Even Kepler, when he can't actually avoid it, goes right to barking her name in that tone that hits the brain stem without passing Go, collecting two hundred dollars, or bothering to achieve consciousness before you're wearing a different shirt on the other side of the room.

Once he can be pretty confident she's oriented to him, he unwraps the towel from his neck and whips the bottoms of her feet with it. She makes a noise like a berserker Pomeranian and completely fails to kick him.

"Heh." The second kick attack doesn't come any nearer to connecting. "Classic."

"Die in a fire, stumpfucker." She contracts in on herself, reflexive, like a poked bug. Jacobi drops down next to her. "Actually, you'd be worryingly into that. Die in a flood. Die in a broken industrial freezer. Die in a Claire's."

"Now, that reminds me. Did I ever tell you about the time I contracted Yersinia pestis from a contaminated piercing gun in Accomac, Virginia?"

Mentos-and-Coke fizz of Maxwell's laughter. "Wow. New Zealand cowboy pirate. Three simultaneous bad accents that don't actually sound anything like him either individually or in aggregate. Four point eight five stars."

"Fuck you and the rhinestone unicorn you rode in on." He pokes her in the ribcage. She barely even squeaks. Must've been braced for it. "So where'd I lose the point fifteen?"

"Town name could have had more syllables. I gave you an extra zero five for scansion."

"Long story short… I wasn't dead yet." He tips an invisible hat and settles back against the headboard. Sleet dashes against the window in monotonous handfuls. One of the cracks in the shitty ceiling looks kind of like the one he skateboarded over and broke two fingers outside the school when he was ten. "Why is everything in this place kind of almost slimy?"

"They're cutting corners on soaps and detergent. It leaves a residue." Maxwell burrows discontentedly into the sheets. "Can you do my back for a minute?"

"I guess, if it'll make up for the residue."

He rests his hand between her shoulderblades. It covers an objectively unnerving percentage of her back. Like touching a hot brick wrapped in washed-to-shreds t-shirt cotton. When he pushes down, she shudders and makes a distressing noise.

"More like up underneath my shoulderblade – other shoulderblade, jackass. My left. Yeah," gasping, when he does the thing like scratching and digging in at once. "Ow, fuck. Positive. Up underneath."

Jacobi's seen the way she sits at her keyboard. He's kind of amazed she still has a back, and that's here and now with strongly recommended gym time and the ten-thousand-dollar chair she dared him to dare her to requisition. That wasn't even what made Kepler bat an eye. God knows what she was like when she was younger.

He changes the angle, up underneath, and her leg on the opposite side genuinely starts twitching. "This is like playing Minesweeper with live charges."

"Like you wouldn't do that. We should do that next year for your birthday."

"Have you thought about seeing a physio? Or, like, an exorcist?" Drags his thumb along the knife-curve of her scapula, probably way too hard, as she's opening her mouth to answer. Something in there releases unceremoniously, and she groans.

"Same thing other side – I thought about it. I chose you."

He corkscrews his thumb down, same thing, other side. Maxwell runs cold, temp-wise, but Jesus you could fry an egg on her back. "Cool. Then you also chose me laughing at you when you turn forty and you're shaped like a question mark."

"It's, like, rilly cute how you think either of us will live to see forty." She twitches, and sighs, and rolls her shoulders till they crack. "Do we have any of those weird chips left?"

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Goodbye Stranger: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

Castiel brings Wendy to the living room where he spends all of five minutes before returning to the kitchen.

"The other demon escaped. I bound the one I caught in a devil's trap. I'm gonna interrogate it now."

"Wait a second, Cas. How about you answer some questions first? Like, where the hell have you been?"

"You heard me, didn't you?" Dean says.

"You prayed to him?" you ask and look at him.

"Yes, I heard you," Castiel answers Dean's question, "but that's not why I'm here. I've been hunting demons."

"So, this is all you, huh? Why?"

"I've been searching for the other half of the Demon Tablet."

"Without us?" Dean asks, offended.

"I've been trying to help, Dean, and in my search, I uncovered that Crowley has sent out demons to find Lucifer's crypts."

"Lucifer had crypts?"

"Dozens of them, apparently."

"Why the storage wars? I mean, what the hell are they all looking for?" you ask.

"They're looking for a parchment that would allow them to decipher Crowley's half of the Demon Tablet without a Prophet."

You have a feeling he is lying to you, and you cross your arms in suspicion. He's been MIA this entire time, and now he's back and claims he's looking for a translation? Something doesn't add up.

"A demonic decoder ring? In Crowley's hands? Awesome," Dean says, believing him.

"The crypts were lost over time. Only those closest to Lucifer knew their whereabouts."

"Are you lying to us?" you ask.

"Why would I?"

"That's my question."

"How did Crowley find them?" Sam asks, breaking the tension.

"His demons have been possessing locals who may have some special knowledge."

"That would explain the crazy room at Ann's house. How did they know where to start looking in the first place?"

"I don't know. I'm hoping the strange-haired demon in the living room is more knowledgeable than the others I interrogated."

Castiel leaves the kitchen to interrogate the demon in the living room.

"Something's not right. He hasn't been right since he got back from Purgatory. We still don't know how he even got out of there," you state.

"I don't know, Y/N. If he's so sketchy, then why was Dean praying to him?"

"You know, I can hear you three. I am a celestial being," Castiel says from the living room.

You sigh and walk into the living room to face the demon.

"Sam, Dean, and Y/N Winchester with the little Winchester babies. Oh, the thoughts she had about you two. Mostly you, Sam. What can I say? She has a thing for smutton chops," the demon smirks.

"Alright, you douchebag, listen--"

Castiel suddenly stabs his angel blade through the back of her hand, causing the demon to scream out in pain. Maryann starts crying again, so you take her from Sam's arms and use your magic to constantly comfort her. You place her over your shoulder so her face is turned away from the violence. You pat her back soothingly and keep an eye on Castiel.

"Who told you about the crypts?" the angel demands.

"I thought angels were supposed to be the good cops." Castiel raises his angel blade again, and the demon whimpers in pain. "Wait! Stop! Stop!! We have a hostage! It's one of Crowley's pets. She's at the Murray Hotel, down by the interstate. She knows the towns where all the crypts are buried. She saw them all back in the day."

"Is she the one who told you about the parchment?" Sam asks.

"What parchment?!"

That's confirmation that Castiel is lying to you. He isn't looking for some parchment, but you believe that there is something important hidden in one of the crypts.

"Hey!" Dean growls. "Do you think he's the only bad cop in this room? Stop lying! We know what you're really looking for."

"No. I am telling you, we're looking for--"

To shut her up, Castiel stabs the angel blade into Wendy's chest, killing her instantly. He isn't acting like himself, and you're going to make it your goal to figure out why he's acting like this.

"Cas! What the hell was that?!" Sam asks loudly.

"It told us what we needed."

"No, she didn't! You can't just--"

"I started this hunt without you because I didn't want anything to slow me down. We have to get to the motel now," Castiel interrupts Sam.

In a flash, Castiel is gone.

"Shit. Go!"

You three leave Wendy where she is to head back to the car. You and Dean strap in Joanna and Maryann before taking off. This is a small town, so the interstate isn't far from where Wendy lives. You're at the motel in record time. When you get there, you see a flash of white light shine from the windows on the third floor. Sam and Dean jump out of the car, but you stay behind to get the kids out.

When you get them both ready, you race up to the third floor to see the three men glaring at each other inside the living room. On the floor are two demons with their eyes burned out.

"Thanks for waiting," you sigh.

"The hostage is in there," Castiel points to the bathroom door.

Dean walks over to the door and opens it, revealing a blonde Meg who looks like she had too many beatings.

"Great, this bitch," you roll your eyes. "Why isn't she dead yet? This blonde look you got going on, doesn't really work for you."

"What have you been up to?" she grins, looking at Joanna and then at Maryann.

"Shut up."

"Could you at least heal me?"

"The only thing I'll do for you is kill you, so shut the fuck up," you growl.

You bring your kids as farthest you can get from her while Castiel removes her restraints. He brings her to one of the beds so you all can talk.

"So, I have to ask. What's up with the hair?" Dean asks.

"Aww. Thanks for noticing, Dean, but this wasn't my idea. It was Crowley's, and it's just another reason I want to stab him in the face."

"Wait a second. You've been telling Crowley the location of Lucifer's crypts," Sam states the obvious.

"What can I say? I needed a break from the constant torture, and I did visit them all during my time with Yellow Eyes. Don't worry. I haven't exactly been giving them good leads."

"You mean you've been lying to them." Castiel corrects.

"I just get them in the ballpark. Enough time has passed and enough has changed that they bought it."

"Why lie?"

"To buy myself time, dumbass.

"Wait, so a bunch of innocent people died so you could buy yourself some time?" Sam asks angrily.

"Hi, I'm Meg. I'm a demon," she says sarcastically.

"What have they found?"

"Shit. Every crypt's been one Al Capone's vault after another. On top of that, someone kept picking up the trail and icing demons. I'm guessing that was you, Castiel, but Crowley just keeps sending more. He's hell-bent on finding that Angel Tablet."

"There's an angel tablet?" you say and look at Castiel.

"You're dumb for a witch. Crowley found out Lucifer had it and figures it's stashed in a crypt."

"Well, this is news to me, as well," Castiel says unconvincingly. "The demons I interrogated must have been lying about their true intentions."

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. He's still lying to you, but why?

"Are you sure? Looks to me like you could have gotten that demon to talk if you hadn't killed her," you glare at Castiel.

"You're all missing the point. I lied to them, which means they're digging in the wrong place. They'll be back here soon. So, who's up for fleeing?"

"She's right. We need to find those crypts before they do. Meg, you're the only one who's been there," Sam agrees.

"We need your help," Castiel nods.

"Great," you sigh.

"Do any of you dummies have a map?" she chuckles.

"No, but we know of one right down to the lines on the street. It's in a basement."

With two people who can teleport, it's more than enough power to teleport everyone, including your children, back to the basement with the clay model of the town. You're not worried about Mr. Morton coming back since he told you he is going to stay with his sister. He wants nothing to do with this house. Meg studies the map with careful eyes before pointing to a specific part.

"There. That's where the crypt was."

"What's there now?" you ask.

"Do I look like Google to you? None of these buildings were here way back in the day. Figure it out, genius. Is there any booze in this dump?"

Meg walks up the basement stairs to the rest of the house, and Castiel follows her.

"He lied to us," you say as soon as they are gone.

Sam made sure he brought his laptop with him to this, so he pulls it out and logs into Google Maps.

"I can kind of understand why. I mean, an angel tablet? If the demon tablet can shut the gates of Hell, what can the angel tablet do?"

"It doesn't matter. He lied to us, Sam, and that means he wanted to keep it hidden from us. He doesn't want us to have the angel tablet. Why? He's not acting like himself."

"Another problem for another day. Here it is. According to this, the crypt has to be below an abandoned building."

On the screen is a satellite image of the building.

"Good times. You really think we can trust, uh, Meg-stiel?" Dean smiles at his word play.

"No, but what choice do we have?"

"I hate this. I'll work with her, but I'm not going to be nice about it," you say and hold Maryann close to you.

Once Sam takes a picture of the map on his phone, he shuts the laptop, and the three of you head upstairs where Castiel and Meg are.

"We got it. Let's get this over with so we can part ways faster," you sigh.

You wish you didn't have to do this at night, but it's the best time to get this over with. Joanna is snuggled up in Dean's arms, Maryann is in yours, and you have only one thought: protect your children. If demons are looking for crypts, then they will come for this one soon, and that means you'll have to do whatever necessary to protect your kids.

"So, this is it. Shall we?" Meg asks.

"Cas, Y/N, and I will head in. Sam, you stay outside with Meg. We got this."

"What are you talking about, Dean? I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"He won't be alone," you and Castiel say at the same time.

"That's not what I mean. Meg can hang here and watch our backs."

"What, now you trust Meg?" you scoff.

"Hey, I got you this far."

"Shut up," you, Dean, and Sam say at the same time.

"Sam, we saw your bloody rag in the trash can, okay?"

Sam freezes when he realizes he's been caught.

"That wasn't--"

"Just stop talking," you sigh. "Sam, we don't know what's in there, okay? It could get worse for you."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine. You haven't been fine since the first trial. That's why I called Cas," Dean says.

"Trial?" Meg says, interested.

"Shut up, Meg."

"Dean, I'm telling you that I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Castiel sighs. "You're damaged in ways even I can't heal. Dean and Y/N are right. You should stay here and protect Meg."

"Since when do I need protection?"

"Since you were held captive and tortured for over a year."

"Touché," Meg shrugs.

"We'll be back."

You and Castiel walk to the abandoned building while Dean takes out the demon-killing knife. He hands it over to Sam before joining you and the angel.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[daisylu-rocketdog-blog]

Did you know the word “euthanasia” itself comes from the Greek words “eu” (good) and “thanatos” (death)? I just learned that the other day.

Daisy Lu was euthanized this past Tuesday, and for her, it was a very good death. Let me tell you about her last day.

That morning, I drove to my parents' house with snacks for everyone in tow. I had been crying a lot the night before, so I just wore sunglasses in the grocery store. I tried to keep a positive attitude, though. I wasn't originally planning to visit Tuesday; I thought I had said my goodbyes already on Monday evening after returning from my partners' Mom's house. But when I got home Monday night, the grief was so overwhelming, and I'm not sure why I ever thought I shouldn't be there to spend Daisy's last day with her. With this realization, I felt a new optimism that I got to spend a whole new day with my baby dog. It was a sunny day. ☀️

When I arrived, Daisy was sleeping. I didn't want to wake her so I just said hello from a distance and put my groceries away. I sat on the porch with my grandma for a while, and then my dad got home from work. Everyone was coming home early from work that day. Once he went inside, he said Daisy woke up and looked at him sleepily. He brought her outside and I was so happy to see her awake. I pet her and we walked around together.

She had been dealing with kidney failure for a while, as well as some eye issues that were causing her vision to decrease. These factors and old age. But, she could still walk. Apparently she had trouble with that on Sunday, and that's when my parents made the call. Tuesday though, she was doing relatively well.

So Tuesday Daisy walked, and walked, and walked. She didn't want to rest very much. She'd rather walk around her favorite spots in the yard and sniff. I followed her but kept some distance so she could go to the bathroom. Then when she got tired, we picked her up and carried her back home. I think she appreciated that.

She probably went through that routine five times over the course of the day. You could tell she was tired and in pain, but still energetic enough to go through her routine and get some love from us. It was the perfect time to have her put to sleep; she was not suffering immensely, but still we knew her quality of life was affected more negatively than positively.

She ate some of her favorite foods that day: smoked chicken, cheese, Fritos chips. Anything she wanted we let her have. So many pets and kisses. Rides around the yard in our arms. We told stories about and talked to her. She watched me play a little Zelda on the couch where she sat in her bed next to me. The one thing that pained me most was that she was not wagging her tail. I hadn't seen her do that Monday night nor all day Tuesday.

It was about an hour before the vet arrived. She had been pacing some, but sat down next to Mom for a minute. Then suddenly she excitedly jumped up off the porch with her tail wagging. She soon slowed down, but just to see how quickly she got up and know that she was elated for that time made me indescribably happy. She kept walking around the yard. I think she must have seen a chipmunk.

The vet was nice, and talked us through it. She explained that the first shot would be a sedative, and the second would be the medicine to help her take her final sleep. We gave her lots of pets and scratches. I think the first shot startled her a little, but I don't think she felt any real pain. She slowly started to become sleepy and my mom held her. My mom passed her to me when she was still half awake, then her head finally started to droop a bit in my arms and I knew she was asleep. I set her down so that she would be comfortable. After a few more minutes, the vet gave the second shot. It was a very peaceful end. She looked like a little angel lying there in her bed.

The vet helped me make a paw print in plaster with her name, and helped shave some of her hair off so that I could keep it in a little box. I have the plaster and her fur on my bedside table.

After the vet left, we moved her from the bed she was in to lie on top of her favorite coat of Mom's. She loved to sleep in it. We gently put her into the curl position she loved to be in (like a little grub worm), and then wrapped her in the coat. We then placed her in her favorite bed, and covered her all up with her blankie that my grandma had crocheted.

My parents had dug a place for her in her favorite spot just inside the woods. Not many trees so she could walk around, but no yard grass so she could go to the bathroom wherever she wanted. She liked to lie there and cool down or look down the hill. My dad lowered her in and used the tractor to cover her slowly. My mom and I watched. It was all very nice.

My partner and I are going back over to their house tomorrow to have a cookout and I'll bring flowers for her grave. We'll find a flat headstone and my mom has a friend that will paint Daisy's caricature on it. We'll make the area nice, too. My mom plans to tend to the area around the grave and keep a path there so we can walk to it.

I'm excited to go back and see her spot and make it beautiful for her. I couldn't have asked for a better death for my Daisy Lu, and I'm grateful my parents took such good care of her when she was alive.

I am still grieving though, and I don't know how long it will take. At least this makes it easier. But I have cried every day since Monday. I hope it will get easier than this. I ordered a custom shaped pillow with a photo of Daisy on it and one for my dad for Father's Day. They should be getting here today. I miss her so much. I just want something to cuddle that reminds me of her. I love and miss you, Daisy Lu. I'm so glad you had a good last day. ❤️

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Five~

You were at the diner with Lloyd, staring into his eyes as he talked about his dreams. 

"I wanna fight," he told you.

"Fight for what?"

"Somebody I love," and he looked at you as if you were going to be that person. 

You smiled bashfully and looked down to your plate.

"Your hair is still wet, princess."

"Well we should go dry it then shouldn't we?"

He smiled knowingly at you. "Don't have to ask me twice."

You took him to your dorm that night where he taught you more than one feeling.

The cold feeling lasted a few hours, and the pain in the side of your head still mercilessly throbbed.

You didn't know how long you'd been there, but it had been long enough for the blood to dry and brown along your skin.

Any feeling you had slowly faded away, other than anxiety for Claire.

After what you guessed was a day, Lloyd bounced his way merrily through the door, carrying a tray.

He pulled up a small table, the metal legs screeching against the floor.

The tray clattered noisily onto the surface of the table. On half of it was some food and a cup of water, the other was a pair of bloodied pliers.

"Well, eat up princess, I brought it here for you," Lloyd said happily. 

Humiliation bit its way up your throat and the bonds on your wrists suddenly felt heavier. 

"Oh, right," he drawled out. "I almost forgot."

Lloyd leaned forward and undid the ties on your wrists, but you didn't move your hands from where they were gripping the arm of the chair. 

He waited a moment, before he got up and started walking away with the tray.

He almost made it to the door before you interrupted. "Wait," you said quietly.

He turned his head and cocked it to the side, waiting.

"Come back."

"Come back, what?"

You forced the bile back down your throat. "Come back, please."

"Aww, see? I knew we had manners."

You didn't respond, holding in your retorts. 

He once again walked toward you and placed the tray back on the table. 

The pliers were too close to your food for comfort. "Whose blood?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied curtly. 

"Is it Claire's?" You didn't want to know. But you had to.

"No."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Why don't you graciously take what I've given you and when you're done, I'll tell you whose blood it is?"

You glanced at him once, before slowly picking up the sandwich from the plate. 

He watched you with a smile like the two of you were on a date, watched you like the day you met. 

It took fifteen minutes for you to finish the food, your stomach having shrunk from being tied up and dormant for so long. 

"You must have to go to the bathroom, yeah?" Every word he spoke was laced with mockery. 

You leaned in close to his face. "Whose. Blood?"

He leaned in even closer. "Your. Uncle's." And you knew it was true. 

You paled, and sat back into your chair.

"I still have the nails if you want them," he said, amusement lighting up his face. 

The sandwich you had choked down was dangerously close to showing itself. 

Lloyd bent down to your ankles and undid the restraints. 

He grabbed you roughly by the arm and hauled you up. 

"You try anything," he growled as the two of you walked to the door, "and I'll kill them both."

Again, you could feel the truth in his words, and they chilled you to the bone.

"Gosh!" he continued having a conversation with himself. "You're so cold, (y/n)! Why didn't you say something?" 

Lloyd stopped walking for a moment, and took off his jacket, handing it to you. 

You didn't take it, so he took the liberty of placing it on your shoulders. 

Normally, you would have shrugged the jacket off. Under any other circumstance, you would have attempted to rip his throat out. But not here, not now. Not when your little sister and apparently uncle were in danger. 

Lloyd took this as a sign of submission, and placed his arm around your shoulder as he led you throughout the halls. 

"You should really cover up, doll. It'll give people the wrong impression."

You hadn't noticed while you were pretending to be somewhere far, far away from here, but your shirt was still wide open, and goose bumps were prominent across your skin. 

Reluctantly, you slid your arms through the holes, folding the oversized jacket over your front. 

Suddenly, a large explosion sounded outside and Lloyd shielded your body with his. 

"Shit!" he cursed, running to the window. 

You took this as your moment to run away, but Lloyd was faster than you. Stronger than you. 

It only took him a few strides to completely catch up with you, once again using his arm to cut off your airways as he pinned you to the nearest wall.

"Going somewhere, sweetheart?" he asked gruffly in your ear.

You held on to his arm, a strangled cry finding its way past your lips.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said, grabbing handcuffs from his back pocket, he linked himself to you.

You looked up to him in horror. "Leverage, darling."

~

"Took you long enough," Claire said with relief and a smile as Six opened the door to her room.

"Sorry bout' that. My flight was delayed," Six replied sarcastically. 

"I knew you'd catch another one," Fitz replied.  

"Where's (y/n)?" Six asked quickly. 

Claire's face fell and she looked to the floor.

"We, don't know..." Fitz said slowly. "Claire said that Hansen came in here yesterday morning, knocked her out, and took her somewhere else."

Six looked at Claire, then back to Fitz with determination. 

"Claire," he said without diverting his gaze. "Put these in your ears."

She complied, taking the earplugs from Six's outstretched hand and holding them, waiting for the conversation to finish before putting them in her ears. 

"You able?" he asked Fitz.

"Enough."

"Good. Here, take this." Six handed Fitzroy a gun. "Here's what's gonna happen," he continued. "You're going to take Claire through the front door, and run like hell. My partner should have drawn the snipers away or killed them. When I find (y/n), I'm going to take her around the back. We'll meet up in the east side of the castle, around 100 feet into the trees is an empty guard post stocked with guns." He then turned to Claire. "If anything happens, you find my partner and she'll keep you safe. Got it?"

Claire nodded slowly, fear evident on her face. 

"Put them in your ears, Claire," Six said referring to the earplugs still in her hand.

He watched the wall, hearing the softest creak in the floorboards outside. Calculated, he shot through the wall, a body falling and gently tapping the door open.

"You ready?" he asked Fitzroy, eyes not leaving his newest victim.

Fitzroy didn't say anything as the three of them collected and prepared themselves for whatever was about to happen.

~

Your arm was burning from the cold metal on your wrist as Lloyd led you around the castle. 

He all but dragged you up to where he kept you and Claire.

The two of you ran through a hallway littered with bodies all laying in their respective puddles of blood, coming upon an empty room.

Lloyd sighed. "He's in the house."

He yanked you back into the hallway, seemingly forgetting you were attached to him.

"Morons!" he yelled at the closest body to him. 

You jumped back when he whipped out his gun with his free hand.

He shot his dead guard in the head. Then, he turned to you.

"Sweetheart, your boy toy has caused a lot of problems for me. Let's go solve them, shall we?"

You swallowed around a lump in your throat. Still looking at the disrespected corpse you asked quietly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, lugging you down the hall with a sneer, "The three of us are about to play a very fun game."

He took you to a roof with two of his men in tow.

"Fitz, no!" you screamed as you discovered his body.

"Roll him," Lloyd said. 

His guard turned the body. "I'm sorry, (y/n)," Fitz said as he held a live grenade. 

"You douche!" Lloyd said as he pulled his man in front of him, simultaneously protecting you and himself.

The force of the blast took you and Lloyd down. 

Wrapped in his arms, he landed on top of you, crushing the air from your lungs. 

You started gasping for air, inhaling dust from the explosion instead. 

At some point, your gasping turned into sobbing.

Lloyd had already gotten up, but you stayed locked on the ground, staring at whatever was left of your uncle.

With a roll of his eyes and an exasperated exhale, he threw you onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry and started running toward the exit. 

You were still heaving for air, the jolting making your bruised ribs ache even more. 

He had made it completely out of the building, and you were on some sort of driveway beside the castle's moat when he said, "C'mon princess stop crying, isn't this the definition of sweeping you off your feet?"

It was at that moment when you started fighting again. 

He was looking for Claire, who was hopefully safe, and you didn't have to worry about Fitz.

You started pounding at his back, moving and squirming and kicking and doing whatever you could to hinder his movements.

"You little bitch, stop!" he called out, his pace slowing down.

"What Lloyd?" you panted. "Can't handle a little fight?"

Smiling, you continued until you were thrown off of his shoulders, landing on the ground with a thud. 

You then kicked his legs out from under him, forcing him onto his back.

Jumping on top, you wrapped your legs around his body, an attempt to lock his arms at his sides.

You ended up having to hold Lloyd's hand as to not break your wrist.

"On the contrary," he smiled. "This is exactly what I was hoping for our reunion."

"You disgust me."

He feigned pain. "Ouch, princess."

He ended up maneuvering his body in a way that forced you off of him. 

"Bet Fitzy didn't teach you that, huh?"

You both swiftly stood up, but you were faster and therefore had the chance to pin his handcuffed hand behind him back. One wrong move, and his arm would break.

You stood on your toes to whisper into his ear, "Don't think for a second you're allowed to talk about my uncle like that."

Before you saw it you heard him smirk. Just before you broke him arm, he took his free hand back over his head, grabbing his own jacket still wrapped around your body, and by sheer strength ripped you over his head to the ground in front of him.

"Fuck!"

He took a knee in front of you, leaning in to speak.

"Now sweetheart, let's try this again, shall we?" He smiled pleasantly at you. "You're going to get the fuck up off the ground, and we're going to walk our pretty little faces over to your boyfriend."

"And what in the actual fuck made you believe I'd listen?" you responded in the same, venomous tone he used with you. 

There was something there, in his eyes when you said that, that made you extremely confused. 

Fear? No. Was that... sadness?

It snapped away as fast as it had arrived. But that didn't stop you from filing it away in your mind. 

You created a plan.

"Aww sunshine, I really thought we had a connection back at Harvard, didn't you?" Lloyd pouted.

"Yeah I did," you answered truthfully. You honestly thought that Lloyd was the type of person you had always wanted to be with, forever. The Lloyd you knew from school, anyway. 

His back straightened and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at your confession, not expecting your answer.

"If you promise not to hurt me or Claire, I'll go with you."

"I'm not the best at keeping promises,  babycakes."

"Lloyd, please," you begged. You were tired, aching, and just wanted to go home. 

He didn't say anything, didn't agree to anything, but he offered you his hand to stand up. Albeit your wrists were handcuffed together and he needed you to get up to go anywhere, it was enough of a promise to you.

You took his hand and the two of you stood facing each other in a moment of calm. 

Lloyd cupped the side of your face hesitantly, like he had one less wall protecting him on the inside from you. 

He leaned in for a kiss, and you closed your eyes, a single tear escaping from one. 

His lips pressed gently against yours, and the tenderness of it all had you frozen like a deer in headlights. 

Then you heard a gunshot. 

Go to Chapter Six

[neocityjs]

Clingy - LJN

Pairing: boyfriend!jeno x reader

Genre: a lil angst, fluff

Warnings: established relationship, Haechan is a bit annoying in this one I’m sorry (Haechan best boy)

Words: 3k

Summary: hurt after hearing your boyfriend and his friends calling you clingy, you decide to show them how not clingy you can be.

A/N: everything is fictional, including the characters’ traits. English is not my first language, therefore I’m sorry for the errors.

Movie nights with your friends were your favorites.

Well, it’d be more correct for me to say “with your boyfriend’s friends”, since you didn’t know them before meeting Jeno. But that doesn’t matter, because in no time you managed to bond with everyone, especially the clumsy yet adorable kid, Jisung, and the loving caffeine addicted boy, Jaemin.

Movie nights with your friends consisted in you eight – even though today you were only seven since Mark was out with some of his friends – sprawled on one couch –  don’t ask me how, but all of you always manage to fit in since no one wants to sit on the carpet – with a blanket covering you and some snacks passing between. Those represented some of those moments you swear you would cherish for all your life.

Tonight seemed to be no different. Jeno had come picking you up at 7 p.m., you spent some time together, walking around, talking and giggling like usual, and you dropped at his house where other five – well, four boys (Jaemin lost to rock paper scissors so he had to go shopping for snacks) – were waiting for the both of you. Donghyuck always got to choose the movie you would watch, not without complaints from every one of you, yet at the end you’d always like what he picks, but Donghyuck doesn’t need to know that.

And there you were, all sprawled on the couch – though not in a very comfortable position –. You had already seen the movie which was playing loudly on the TV, hence you decided to pay more attention to your boyfriend instead. You were all cuddled up with him: he was hugging you, stroking your back from time to time. Your head was on his shoulder while your hand rested on his chest. Sometimes you couldn’t help but leave a furtive and quick kiss on his jaw, praying no one would notice you. He’d smile at you – gosh his eye smile UWU – and then he’d hug you closer.

About one hour after the movie’s beginning, you felt some physical needs pressing, so you quickly excused yourself and got up from the couch.

“Should I pause it?” Renjun asked, the remote already between his hands.

“No, don’t worry. I’ve already seen it anyway”

You made your way to the bathroom only to find out that the toilet paper was missing.

You sighed. Boys.

So you went back to the living room, where everyone was gathered.

You were about to open your mouth to ask where they kept the spare paper but something odd caught your ear. You backed up, hiding behind the wall. You obviously knew that eavesdropping was not by any means honest, especially if it was a conversation between your best friends. But you were almost certain that they were talking about you, your name dropping from one of the boys’ mouth.

“Enjoy being free while you can” Donghyuck joked with Jeno. You furrowed your brows.

What was that supposed to mean? You peeked your head cautiously, not wanting to be seen.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend” Jisung laughed at him, to which the boy responded with a sharp stare.

“Seriously, Jisung? When you haven’t even had your first kiss?”

“Ya ya ya! Shut up and don’t fight you two” Jaemin intervened, throwing a popcorn at them.

A brief moment of silence followed. You still didn’t understand what they were talking about.

“She’s just affectionate, that’s all” Jeno finally spoke, at which you held your breath.

So they were talking about you being clingy with your boyfriend. And this response from Jeno meant that he didn’t mind it, right? Or else he would have agreed with the boy. The thing is, you never thought about it: you supposed that a little kiss every now and then was a way to show your love and affection to him, plus he never complained about it, or never backed away.

“I know, but don’t tell me you don’t find this suffocating sometimes” Donghyuck continued.

Okay, now he was seriously getting on your nerves. What the heck did he care if you were clingy with your boyfriend? This was something between you and Jeno, and he wasn’t allowed to interfere with it, especially in front of everyone in the room. You thought he was making fun of you by now.

At this point you expected something to come out of Jeno’s mouth, anything that could have proven Donghyuck wrong, but he said nothing.

And silence means consent.

How did you know this? Well, Jeno wasn’t one to back out from speaking his opinion, especially with his friends. Especially with Donghyuck, for God’s sake, this guy was constantly bickering – though not with malicious intentions – with everyone.

“We shouldn’t talk behind her back like this” affirmed Jaemin with a severe stare. Jeno looked down: you didn’t know it but he was feeling suddenly guilty, agreeing with Jaemin. Everyone then went silent, the only sounds that could be heard being the dialogues in the movie.

You pressed your back against the wall, processing what you just heard.

Why didn’t he ever tell you? Why did he act like he loved it while, actually, he hated it? Then you thought about every time you held his hand in public, or hugged him, or kissed him, and then your thoughts went to five minutes before, when you were hugging him on the couch. You started feeling sorry.

Maybe after all it’s true, and he didn’t tell me anything because he didn’t want to hurt me.

But well, now it hurt twice as much since you weren’t aware of what your friends and your own boyfriend thought about you. Maybe every one of them, except for Jeno obviously, thanked God they hadn’t a girlfriend like you, who was suffocating and clingy.

And it was at this moment that your guilt turned into anger.

You just wanted to show all your affection and care to your boyfriend who you loved with all your heart, but apparently you were only bothering him. And Donghyuck - oh Donghyuck – you were so angry at him right now. What was the point in making fun of you in front of everyone when you weren’t even there? At the same time, you took a mental note to thank Jisung and Jaemin, the only two people who stood to defend you.

Okay, tonight you were proving everyone how not clingy you could be. Indeed, you were going to interact the least possible with Jeno. He wanted space? Good, you were giving him tons of it.

You eventually went to the toilet using one of your tissues since you were not asking any of them where the hell was the toilet paper, you washed your hands and went back to the couch.

But this time you didn’t hug Jeno. You simply forced a smile and sat next to him with your arms crossed. You tried not to be too obvious, you still didn’t want them to know that you heard everything, but you were sure your face was saying otherwise, and the confirmation arrived when Jeno asked you “Is everything ok?” full of concern.

You just called me clingy and let Donghyuck make fun of me. Yes, everything’s amazing.

“Yes, of course. Why?” you replied, using all of your acting skills in the process which, by the way, were very poor. But apparently they worked, because Jeno smiled at you and shook his head. “Nothing”.

But if you were successful at lying to him right now, then by the end of the movie he understood that something was wrong. You were avoiding all of his attempts of skin ship because “it was too hot”, but then you were grasping at the blanket like there’s no tomorrow. You were also laughing at everything remotely funny that came out of Jaemin’s mouth while you simply ignored all of Jeno’s attempts of making you laugh. Hell, you didn’t even argue with Donghyuck when he murmured something about Jeno being the most unfunny guy he ever met. Oh and you were playing and laughing with Jisung who was sitting next to you.

In short, you were avoiding him.

But he decided to shrug these thoughts away. Maybe he was being paranoid, he thought: you were just enjoying your friends’ company, plus it wasn’t written anywhere that you were allowed to talk and give attentions only to him.

Little did he know, this was just what you were trying to do: shower everyone with attentions except him.

Eventually the movie came to an end, and while everyone was pronouncing their goodnights and heading to sleep, you just remained there, with your phone between your hands, scrolling mindlessly on your Instagram feed.

Usually you and Jeno would have gone to bed together, sharing your thoughts about the movie you just watched, or simply talking about everything and nothing at the same time. But not today. He wanted space? You were giving him space.

Jeno already stood up to make his departure, but soon noticed you weren’t following him like you always did. “Are you coming?” he asked you, stopping on his tracks.

“I’ll just reply to a few messages and then I’ll go to sleep too. Don’t wait for me, you can go”

“Y/N are you sure everything’s okay? You’ve been acting quite weird. Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Of course not, Jeno. Nothing happened” you replied rather coldly. Then you sighed. “I’m good, don’t worry for me” you added, softly this time. Although you believed he deserved it, you didn’t want to be too rude to him.

He nodded, and without saying anything more, he left.

At this point you started feeling a tiny bit guilty, still you couldn’t simply pretend nothing happened: their words hurt you and even if you really wished to just forget everything, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t, it was stronger than you.

By the way, you had no intention of sleeping with Jeno tonight, so you grabbed the blanket all of you once shared when watching the movie, and struggled a little bit to find a comfortable position. Eventually, after some tears escaped from your eyes, you drifted into a restless sleep.

It took a couple of hours for Jeno to realize you were not in bed with him.

He just fell asleep, a part of him believing that later you would have joined him. But when he woke up, he immediately sensed that something was off. Still sleepy, he touched the other side of the bed only to find it empty, and immediately stood up. It was 3 A.M, why weren’t you sleeping? What the heck were you doing? Did someone kidnap you? At this point he was surprised of how paranoid he could be.

His thoughts came to an end when he saw you, on the couch, with a blanket shielding you from the cold, all curled up. He didn’t see the dried tears that stained your face, though.

Sitting slowly beside you, not wanting to scare you, he gently shook you, not sure himself if it was the right thing to do. He was just so confused, he genuinely didn’t have any idea of what was happening. But he knew one thing for sure: you had been acting cold with him and he wouldn’t had moved until you confessed what was going on. Was it something he said or did? Was today your anniversary or something and he forgot it? Poor boy absolutely couldn’t find peace unless he knew what he did.

Soon you opened your eyes, still heavy from the – lack of – sleep.

“Hey” he murmured softly.

You considered pretending to sleep but nah, as I said earlier, you weren’t a good actress.

“Hey” you replied, stretching your limbs a little bit.

“I got worried since you weren’t sleeping next to me” he chuckled awkwardly. Sure thing, he didn’t know how to handle this situation since this was the first time you were acting like this.

“I… umm… I just fell asleep here” you replied looking at your hands, which you were scratching due to the nervousness.

Another lie.

Then silence.

“Y/N look at me” his voice suddenly changed, turning colder.

You swallowed, a knot forming again in your throat, as you forced back the tears that were trying to escape. You didn’t want to give in so soon.

But how could you, when he was getting angry at you? You should have been angry, not the opposite. And you know what? He was right, you were taking it too far. He didn’t deserve this. Look at how nice he tried to be all night, you managed to anger a calm and patient man like him. How stupid could you be at this point?

With a quivering lip you turned your head, facing him. He was watching you intently, with a serious frown on his face. Your grip on the blanket got tighter, almost ripping it with your nails.

You stayed silent. Then he spoke.

“Why are you being like this?”

You swallowed. What should you say? Were you even allowed to say anything at this point?

You tried to open your mouth to say something, but as soon as you tried your eyes were filled with tears, rapidly falling on your skin. You just couldn’t take it anymore, so you just faced away and buried your face in the pillow, trying to muffle your sobs. You didn’t want to look so pathetic in his eyes, although by now you thought you were being beyond pathetic.

If earlier there was any anger in Jeno, now every hint of it dissipated at the sight of you crying, curled up on the couch. He suddenly felt guilt taking over him. But the amount of confusion and frustration was bigger, so, as much as it pained him to see you cry because of him, this didn’t prevent him from trying to find out what had gotten into you. He was honestly so tired, he just wanted to sleep with you on his side.

He gently, almost scared, touched your trembling frame, and when he noticed there was no sign of rebellion from you, he lied down and hugged you tightly from behind.

And you kept on crying silently, a loud sob escaping occasionally, as he murmured sweet nothings into your ears, shushing you gently and telling you that everything’s fine, I’m here with you. Just let it out.

When you finally finished crying, he placed a soft kiss on your neck, then another on your wet cheek.

“Wanna talk about it?”

There was no point in lying by now. So you faced him, face full of concern and arms still tightly secured around you. And you just let out everything, from how you overheard their conversation – including how sorry you were for doing it and promising it would never happen again -, to how you were hurt by Donghyuck’s words but mostly by Jeno’s lack of words.

On the other hand, poor Jeno didn’t have any idea this could have affected you so much, and because of this he didn’t even think this could have been the cause of your sudden behavior. He just listened everything silently, surprised, just like a kid to whom the newest things are explained.

“I just got so angry at you for not defending me, and for letting Hyuck make fun of me. So I wanted to distance myself from you as much as possible to have my revenge” you openly confessed, hiding your face in his chest.

“I’m really sorry I took this so far. I should have talked instead” you add.

“Well, that’s true” Jeno replied, “but I can’t say I’m in the right either. First thing, we shouldn’t have talked about you like that, plus I’m really sorry I didn’t say anything to Hyuck, I understand this hurt you a lot”

“But do you really think I’m that clingy? Because if so, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll try to respect you space more” you asked, looking up at him with watery eyes.

And if your ears were sharp enough, you could have heard the sound of Jeno’s heart shattering.

Now he was the one who was on the verge of tears.

“Y/N please don’t ever say such a thing. You don’t have to change anything about yourself. I love you because you are you, including your touchy and loving nature. Besides, don’t look at me this way or I’m seriously gonna cry” he added whining, causing a smile – a real one – to appear on your face.

“Now it’s a lot better” he affirmed, tracing your curled up lips with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you or you’re still mad at me?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I was thinking about making you suffer a little more” you joked.

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable”

“I think so too”

He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I should kiss that annoying attitude of yours away”

“I don’t know, should you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes”

And with that he kissed you, the fight of moments ago long forgotten. A slow and gentle kiss, a mixture of emotions being shown: remorse, love, affection. It was a way for the both of you to say “it’s all in the past now”.

After you parted, one thought snapped in his mind.

“Wait, how will you manage the matter with Donghyuck? I can talk to him if you want” he pointed out, concerned. He perfectly understood if you were angry at the boy in question, but he also wished all of you to be as bonded as a big family, his family.

“There’s no need, I’ll just confront him by myself, beat him up until he asks for forgiveness and then forgive and hug him”

Jeno looked at you, almost scared. “What…?”

“Just kidding” you said, laughing at his funny face. Still hugging, you made yourselves comfortable enough to sleep.

“Or maybe not”

[sweatygrealish]

just a dream (jack grealish x reader)

word count: 1612

warnings: bit angsty. 

sorry for any mistakes, I finished this along with a bottle of wine :)

*

He was sitting opposite you in the living-room, nervously fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt. It was an absolutely odd thing for him to do, and it worried you.

“I need to tell you something,” he began, not being able to look you in the eye. You needed him to say it, as soon as possible, so the emotion that was nearly choking you to unconsciousness could finally break free from your throat.

“What is it, Jack?” You demanded to know, your voice thick with impatience and fear. It was nearly unbearable.

“I slept with someone else.”

There it was. What had been hovering above your relationship for quite a few weeks now was out. It sat there, comfortably, between you and your long term boyfriend of five years, staring at you with a dead serious, almost threatening stare.

“So you don’t love me anymore.” You stated a fact. It wasn’t a question, nor an assumption, just a simple fucking fact.

Jack’s face lost all its colour. His open mouth closed and opened again, you could see him swallow hardly, his Adams apple bobbing up and down.

“Of course I love you, baby. That hasn’t changed, I-“ he tried to continue but you cut him off.

“No, Jack. You don’t. You don’t do something like this to someone you love.” You rose from your seat, noticing how weird your body felt, how much every fibre of your soul was hurting. Almost, your knees gave in, gave up carrying your body’s weight, the weight of your pain. Jack stood up with you, reaching out for your hands, but you were quick to withdraw them.

You walked a few steps back to the living-room door which led to the hall. With trembling hands you got a hold of the baseball bat which you always kept hidden behind the curtain, in case of a burglary when Jack was away. Jack watched with wide, incredulous eyes when you lunged out, aiming for the way too big and expensive TV he always spent too much time in front of anyway.

Shooting Jack one last glance,

you woke up.

Lying on your back, your pyjama and the bed sheets were clinging to your sweaty skin. You could literally see your heartbeat hammering through your chest so furiously it nearly hurt.

You were hurt. Hurt by the man sleeping soundly next to you with his warm hand resting on your belly. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyelashes fluttered delicately with the subtle movements of his eyes beneath closed lids.

6:32 am.

You gulped painfully. Your mouth was dry.

Carefully not to wake your boyfriend, you sneaked out of bed and grabbed a cardigan from the chair next to your dresser, tiptoeing out of the room. You knew Jack’s alarm clock would go off at eight, that gave you 90 minutes to pull yourself together. Of course you didn’t want to let a stupid dream ruin your day.

Upon going downstairs, you couldn’t ignore the urge to check the living-room in order to see if the TV was okay. It was fine. Everything was fine. You kept repeating the sentence inside your head like a mantra before brewing yourself a cup of tea.

Jack opened his eyes just two minutes before his alarm would wake him up. He grumbled something before discovering your empty, cold half of the bed. He sat up and frowned- you were usually up before him but most of the time, especially on a Saturday, he would wake up to you reading a book or checking your phone.

His gruff morning voice called out your name but no response came. Jack sighed and shuffled into the bathroom to get ready, hoping to find you downstairs when he was finished.

He did. You were in the middle of making breakfast, the heavenly smell of eggs wafted through the hall when he entered the kitchen, smiling.

“G’mornin’ love.”

“Good morning,” you half smiled, letting him pull you into his side.

“You’re up early,” he pointed out as he gratefully accepted a cup of tea from you, adding, “didn’t sleep well?”

He really knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn’t a chance you could hide something from him.

“Just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep.” You couldn’t look at him any more, afraid to give away too many of your thoughts. Worrying him about something like a stupid nightmare wasn’t something you were keen on doing right before an important training session of his.

You noticed he wasn’t satisfied with your answer, so you quickly handed him a plate with eggs on toast before he could ask any further questions.

“Thanks, you’re the best,” he smiled before his soft lips brushed your cheek.

During breakfast you had the strange feeling he was eyeing you very carefully. You hardly looked up from your plate to avoid any awkward moments or questions. For the first time in years, you just wanted him to leave for training so you could manage sorting your thoughts and emotions. You weren’t able to do that when he was staring at you from across the dining table, probably wondering what the fuck was wrong with you.

He knew something was definitely wrong. He wasn’t stupid. Maybe he was lacking intelligence as in cognition and logic, conversely his emotional intelligence was impressively high. So when it was time for him to go, your pulse quickened inevitably once again.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jack searched your face for any kind of hint, a blink of an eye, a frown, a wrinkle. But you kept it under control, nodding and just swallowing everything instead of spitting it out. You were sure it would all go away eventually before he came home in the afternoon.

“Alright. See you later. Miss you already.” He pecked your lips, mouth lingering a little too long for such an innocent kiss, and briefly tapped your nose with his index finger.

“Yeah, enjoy training.” Your reply was half-hearted and both of you were aware. Jack smiled awkwardly and approached the door, unsure weather to assure himself once more that, apparently, nothing was wrong. He decided against it, waving one last time, before shutting the door behind him.

Training was tough. Jack checked the time unusually often along with his phone for a message from you. A life sign, any sign to soothe his nerves. But- nothing. It was just agonizing- being absolutely sure that something wasn’t quite right but being absolutely clueless about what it could be.

He couldn’t run as fast as he wanted, couldn’t kick the ball as hard as he wanted, couldn’t mess around with his team mates.

All he wanted was get home to you, engulf you in his arms for the entire night and stroke your hair.

Finally it was time to go home. Jack was annoyed that he had to run some errands before eventually getting home, time that separated him from you furthermore. Stupid errands like stopping for gas and picking up his suit from the dry cleaners.

His pulse was racing unusually fast at parking the car in the driveway. Because he didn’t know what to expect, a feeling of insecurity was spreading in his chest.

Jack opened the front door and found the house practically silent, and for a split second he wondered if you were even there. After having closed the door he was able to make out a sound from the kitchen that could’ve been music from the distance. In search of the source, he strode through the rooms until he reached the back garden. He spotted you huddled up in a blanket with a glass of wine in hand, staring into the distance.

“Hey.”

Your head turned towards him with a weak smile.

“Hey.”

“Can I join you?”

You simply nodded, making some space for him on the lounger. For a moment, you just sat there in silence.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly said, nearly whispered.

Jack looked at you, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m sorry for being so distant today. It wasn’t fair on you. I’ve had a nightmare last night. You told me that you’d slept with someone else.”

Your words were lingering in the air like puffed out cigarette smoke. Jack didn’t know what to do, all the things he wanted to say weren’t coming together into a proper sentence. So instead, he wrapped both his arms tightly around you and pulled you into him.

It was the best reaction to your “confession” you could’ve wished for. Sometimes, silence indeed spoke louder than words.

“You know I’d never do that to you. Don’t you?” Jack whispered after a while.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, landing on his hand, “I know.”

You were still looking straight ahead, feeling his burning gaze on your face, not yet able to face him fully.

“Nightmares suck,” Jack muttered against your temple, his thumb stroking circles on the back of your hand, “everything’s alright, love. I’m here for you.”

In that moment, you were so thankful for him, so so thankful. You broke free from his grasp slightly to look into his hopeful eyes. There was a sparkle in them, along with one particular emotion, so visible it was impossible to miss.

Love.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you this morning. I felt stupid.”

Jack’s big, strong hands framed your face as he knocked his forehead against yours.

“It’s fine.” As soon as the words had left his lips, he kissed you tenderly, gently sucking your bottom lip. Without hesitation you kissed him back, sighing deeply in happiness.

You really were so lucky to have him.