#how could they just continuously make this so bad. we used to get replacement buses 10 years ago. now you can be glad if it drives.

[makerscockandballs]

filled with the unfathomable rage of a million suns that one can only gain by travelling with Deutsche Bahn

[iraacundus]

make a wish

resonance series one:

investmentbanker!xiaojun x reader

genre: fluff, smut, tiny weeny angst words: 5.4k warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, mentions of drug use

investment banking was a high stakes game, even for the interns. you and him were in constant competition, living the high life, stressed out of your minds, unwilling to let the other know that. “i could do this all day”.

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

He looked so smug as your supervisor named him intern of the week for the fourth week running. Once again you were just a few thousand won behind him. You could have beaten him… you just suffered an unlucky loss seconds before closing.

You typed furiously into your computer, nonsensical words appearing one by one in your spreadsheet. If you looked like you were working, you figured he would be less like to disturb you with his gloating.

Yet your bad luck seemed to be continuing as you were so focused on your angry typing, you didn’t notice Xiaojun standing behind you causing you to jump slightly when you heard his voice whisper in your ear,

“It must be hard always losing to me, but if it makes you feel better, no one ever does beat me, at anything,” he boasted.

You swivelled your chair round to face his grin. You wanted to strangle him with that stupid striped tie he wore. You stared into his eyes refusing to drop his gaze, that would be admitting some sort of strange defeat and you couldn’t face to losses in one day.

Xiaojun backed down first by deciding to wink at you, a glimmer of chaos in his eyes.

“Do you get off on being a dick?” you asked him, hastily closing the nonsensical spreadsheet even though you were very sure he had already seen it.

“It’s just friendly competition,” he said with a grin and you rolled your eyes at him. The competition was anything but friendly, it was far too much like bloodthirsty roman gladiatorial games to be considered as such. Every person for themselves.

That’s why you always pushed back your attraction to Xiaojun and replaced it with shallow hate. The only time you would sleep with Xiaojun would be to use it against him, to win. Yet that standpoint was so hard to keep when the breath of his whispered fanned your neck.

“Better luck next time babe.”

You didn’t want to kiss him, you reminded yourself, you wanted to throw him down a flight of stairs.

“Fuck you,” you replied, turning back to your computer, ignoring how you missed the warmth of him standing by you as he walked away, ignoring the irony of your statement.

He had totally interrupted your focus, you wanted to get back to work but instead, you couldn’t help but keep glancing over to look at him. He had aimed to throw you off and he had achieved that goal.

What would be anywhere else be seen as casual flirtation, in this world was a dangerous game.

You pinched yourself slightly under the table, forcing yourself to focus on the stock market and not Xiaojun’s stupid face.

You had so much work to finish before the drinks party that evening, especially now you had come second place again. You had spreadsheets to prepare, articles to read and a plan to set out for the following week. All you wanted to do after completing that was sleep but schmoozing with the higher ups, the investors, the CEOs, it was all part of the job.

You loved your job to a certain extent, the thrill, the high stakes, the money to be made. You hated your job to a certain extent because it made you stressed out of your mind.

One wrong move and you could lose the company ten million dollars in ten seconds. That kind of mistake would put a mark on your name forever and all you had worked would be for nothing.

So, when Xiaojun was winning, his face may have been good looking, but all you wanted to do was smack it.

That evening was the fourth party in as many days and you were tired, you weren’t sure that even the expensive layers of concealer you were wearing could cover that fact.

The lights of the club were bright through the darkness as you smiled at older men, damning sexism that this was the easiest way for you to gain favour. You drank one cocktail after the next, hoping it would dull the sensations of the world, just for a few hours, just so the stress of the job would go away and only the thrills would remain.

You shook the hands of some executives in the VIP section, conversing perfectly about market changes and ideas despite the fact you could barely stand. If investment banking didn’t work out, you were pretty sure you could become a professional actor.

It was half-past midnight when you noticed Xiaojun staring at you. He was sitting alone on a sofa in the VIP section, arm draped lazily over the back of it as he sipped some expensive liquor. His eyes were dilated, and you couldn’t tell whether he was attracted to you or had just taken far too many drugs.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to stumble over to where he was sitting, and half sit, half fall down next to him. Talking to Xiaojun presented no value your job, it wasn’t going to get you a promotion or a favour.

“Are you okay?” he asked, he gaze fixed on yours. You rolled your eyes. You were ninety-percent sure he was looking for you to admit any sign of weakness he could use to take you down; you were his strongest competition after all.

“I’m fucking peachy,” you replied, taking another sip of your drink, the world around you just a blurry collection of lights.

In fairness your aggression towards him was unwarranted, it wasn’t his fault you had a bad week, but you were drunk, and he was easy to project your emotions onto.

Xiaojun sat forward slightly, leaning towards you, his face not close enough yet for to discern his intentions due to your drunken state.

“You seem like you could use some water,” he said, pushing a glass towards you. With this action you could just make out his face through the blurring and the lights, it wasn’t as smug as usual, yet you refused to believe he didn’t have an ulterior motive.

You ignored the water, childishly. Instead you sat back, far enough away to frame his face through your fingers,

“Why are you so perfect?” you asked him out of nowhere but perhaps out of jealously and curiosity. Xiaojun stared at you for a second but never answered your question.

“Just drink the water, y/n, you have to work this weekend to catch up with me, I don’t want my greatest rival to be taken out of the race by a hangover.”

You frowned slightly but took the water and sipped, the cool taste pleasant against your dry throat.

“And for the record, I’m far from perfect,” he added.

You did still make it to work the next morning but with a hangover indeed. You felt like you had been runover by ten buses as you teetered into the lift in your high heeled shoes and tailored dress.

Not everyone worked weekends, just interns with something to prove, the stock market wasn’t open on weekends, so you just did grunt work, hoping to please some executive and climb one rung up the ladder to hell.

You sat down at your desk and began to run the numbers, pushing your headache out of mind. You were so focused you didn’t see who had left some extra strength paracetamol on your desk, but took it anyway, grateful to dull the sensation.

This was your reality, no matter how you felt, you still had to give your top level of performance. Your ability to do this was almost the sole reason for your success to that point.

Every so often, when you stopped to drink water or check the time, you noticed Xiaojun glancing at you. It was both flattering and unnerving, you couldn’t decide which.

His eyes were a deep brown, mesmerising – distracting. He was throwing you off and deep down you hoped that throwing you off wasn’t the reason he was staring.

The next week for the first time in a month you won intern of the week. Xiaojun was no longer smug, on the intern ranking he had dropped to seven. You didn’t see him glance at you that week, you didn’t see him smile.

Xiaojun had never been below five up to that point, he had tainted his record far more than you had ever tainted yours with just one really miscalculated risk.

Winning had spurred you on to work late, to continue what you had achieved. You worked after the market closed on until 2am and when you finished Xiaojun was still there, his eyes bloodshot, his fingers typing away.

He was chewing his lip anxiously as he backspaced about fifty-times, beginning to look slightly unhinged.

You had seen Xiaojun like this before, everyone in the company had weeks like this, but for the first time seeing in him this state somewhat upset you.

You didn’t know why it upset you, Xiaojun wasn’t your friend. Maybe, despite everything you hated that he endured the same struggle you did, perhaps because you fully understood how awful the pressure could be. It was the true embodiment of “you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy”.

The next night you woke up at your desk at four in the morning after drifting off. The keyboard had imprinted into your face and the lights in the office were off. The only light still illuminating the office was one computer, even the night cleaner was long gone. Yet Xiaojun was still there, typing away.

You chucked your shoes off onto the floor, sighing at the comfort of it, before wandering over to his desk, settling down into the chair next to him and spinning to face him.

“You will make yourself sick, you know,” you told him.

Xiaojun looked up in surprise, he hadn’t noticed you sit down. Despite his somnolence he still managed a witty reply,

“From staying up late or the drugs I take to do it?” he said, making a joke but not joking, dangerously nonchalant about the gravity of his remark. You didn’t know what to say back, there wasn’t a lot you could say.

“I don’t want my greatest rival to be taken out of the race by hospitalisation,” you finally decided on, copying his own words.

Hearing this, Xiaojun’s faced curved slightly into what was almost a smile and he stopped typing.

“I’m afraid we face mutual destruction, neither one of us will stop until we win,” he said, his eyes searching your face, his eyebrows contorting into an expression you couldn’t fully understand.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t be so competitive,” you joked, but your face wasn’t smiling. Your face was tired and grey, yet Xiaojun still looked beautiful, his eyes shining in the computer light, even if they were fucked up and red, “sometimes I’m not sure what we are competing for,” you told him.

“We both love the competition though, you can’t deny that, if there was nothing to compete for, we wouldn’t work as hard. We compete for the thrill and the money; we both know that.”

“Maybe you could finish work before the early hours if you stopped staring at me all day,” you pointed out, changing the subject slightly. Xiaojun grinned but his face tinged slightly red.

“So, you caught that? I have to have some bright points in my day, the rush of success and looking at you.”

You laughed softly, pushing him and his chair away slightly and taking control of his computer. You saved his document and logged off.

“Go home Xiaojun, I would prefer if you survived, and for that you need sleep. I can’t win if your dead.” This time it was your turn to joke and yet not be joking.

You stood up together to leave the building, Xiaojun muttering something about this being a tactic for you to be the weeks winner. He didn’t notice that when you were walking along the empty street with him in the cold air, you, for one short moment, really didn’t care if he beat you or not.

That when you got to the subway station that ran all night and parted to get on trains in opposite directions, it took everything in your body not to kiss him.

Xiaojun won that following week and you wanted to throw him out a tenth-floor window. But when you saw his smug smile and his eyes a normal colour, you didn’t quite hate him as much. You would settle for throwing him out a third-floor window.

It wasn’t all bad either, not just because Xiaojun had moved away from the knife edge but because you made a record trade. You through your arms in the air and shrieked with happiness.

Everyone in the office looked at you, some clapped, others glared. Xiaojun settled for a soft smile and a text of congratulations – you never knew he had your number.

Both of you were celebrating at the office ‘party’ that night. Schmoozing CEO’s was off your mind for one night only. You thought you had made enough of an impression that week.

You did more shots than you could remember and hit the dance floor. Numerous guys tried to hit on you, but you weren’t interested. Only one man played on your mind and you wanted him out of there.

You drank more to forget him, but you couldn’t ignore him when he was standing in front of you, face flushed red with alcohol and a stupid grin on his face.

“I don’t know what is sexier, your intelligence or your ass,” he said, coming to dance next to you.

You hit his shoulder lightly,

“Oh, you’re such a gentleman, Xiaojun,” you replied sarcastically.

“I stopped taking drugs these last few weeks,” he continued, slipping his arms around your waist as he continued to dance, “you’ve become my natural high.”

You thought he was making a joke, some vague attempt at a pickup line. Yet even though he was smiling, you saw a sense of earnest in his eyes.

“I hope that’s true,” you said, “about the drugs at least.”

“I think I would do about anything to make you happy at this point… except losing to you,” he whispered back, his lips dangerously close you yours.

“As they say in our business, how about you put your money where your mouth is?”

His hand pushed your hair behind your ear gently,

“And just what do you mean by that?” he enquired. Yet before you could reply his arms released from around your waist and he grabbed your hand, leading you off the dance floor and towards the bar.

“A cosmopolitan for the lovely lady and a whiskey for me please,” you heard Xiaojun ask the bartender.

Xiaojun pulled out a barstool for you and sat down on the one next to it.

“We always sit in private rooms, how about a change, mix with everyone else for once,” he said smiling.

“At least there are no creepy CEO’s here,” you conceded, “how did you know my favourite drink?”

“I know you better than you think… and I’m accustomed to taking calculated risks, I seem cooler if I guess right than if I have to ask you, but if I guess wrong, I just wasted some money. Yet I figured money spent on you couldn’t be a waste.”

You decided that he was definitely hitting on you and while you hadn’t expected it, you equally weren’t surprised. You and Xiaojun were close by investment banking competitor standards.

“Why have you decided to start flirting with me?” you asked in a drunk moment of directness.

“Liquid confidence mixed with the fact you’re very beautiful.”

The bartender placed the drink down in front of you and you took a sip as Xiaojun handed him a 50,000 won note,

“Keep the change,” he added, nodding at the waiter before picking up his drink and turning back to face you.

He said something but the music in the club was so loud you couldn’t hear him.

You leaned in and talked somewhat loudly,

“It’s loud in here, I didn’t hear what you said sorry,” you told him.

“I really wish I didn’t have to compete against you,” he said, leaning in to close the distance, his whisky touched breath fanning your face.

“Because you think you’re going to lose?” you joked. Xiaojun shook his head, placing his whisky back down on the bar.

“Because I really don’t want to have to take you down to win.”

In that moment you really just wanted him to kiss you… but he never seemed to make the move. Once he had stopped talking, he leaned away again and sipped his whiskey, something which confused you.

You really thought he had been flirting with you but now you had doubts, what if he only had a friendly concern for your welfare.

You drank your cocktail contemplating this, analysing what he did, trying to calculate which side of the equation his brain was on. He was as unpredictable as the stock market, yet unlike with work, here you didn’t know what to guess.

Even if he was flirting there was the chance that he didn’t actually have an interest with you, but instead he was trying to emotionally fuck with you.

You downed your drink and placed it down on the side. Xiaojun looked like he was thinking himself. You couldn’t guess his emotions, but unlike with work you reckoned you could figure it out.

“It’s nice to talk to you for once, outside of the work setting, well… almost,” you said, casually placing your hand on his thigh as you leaned in. That was your plan. Judge his reaction but Xiaojun just smirked. While you decided that probably got rid of the friendly concern option and confirmed his - romantic intent – it didn’t solve the question of how noble his intentions were.

“You could make a wish, y/n, I would give you anything you wanted,” he whispered, this time his lips physically brushing his ear.

“Except winning the internship competition,” you confirmed.

You laughed without humour. It was like a wall between the both of you.

“Not that I would ever ask you to give that up,” you added, “wishes are for genies and birthdays anyway.”

“Well, I’m not a genie but you could always make a birthday wish.”

“My birthday is in five months, so a bit of a wait. Another drink though, that I can make happen now… What do you want?” you asked him.

“I can buy you one,” he protested. You rolled your eyes.

“Gender equality Xiaojun, I can buy a guy a drink.”

“Then I will except anything you give me,” he relented.

“A sex on the beach and a whiskey please,” you said to the bartender. It was slightly dark, but you almost thought you could see Xiaojun blush slightly when you mentioned sex, even just in the context of a drink.

Then again, it could have just been the whiskey.

You only got halfway through that next drink before you realised simple conversation and suggestive gestures wouldn’t be able to discern what you wished to know.

You didn’t know whether to give up or give in.

“I think I should go home,” you said standing up. Xiaojun’s face fell slightly before he managed to put his smile back in place.

“I’ll call you a cab,” he replied standing up next to you, it was lucky he did as the first step you took almost sent you to the ground. Xiaojun managed to get a hold of you and stop you from falling.

“Aha thank you,” said, unable to stop yourself from grinning at him brightly. Xiaojun put his arm around your waist as you both walked along the side of the crowd dancing and out of the club.

The air outside was cold but Xiaojun was warm. He instinctively took off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders.

“You must have good intentions,” you mused, not realising you had thought aloud.

“Why would I not?” Xiaojun asked, looking slightly confused but unfazed.

“I’ve been trying to work out all night if you are genuinely into me or if this is all some part of a masterplan to take me down,” you answered, no idea why you were suddenly being so truthful.”

“This job really does fuck up one’s mentality,” Xiaojun said, looking ever so slightly forlorn.

“Maybe so… but I think you are a good guy Xiaojun, you have fooled me if you’re not. If this a lie, then I lost to you. I want to make my wish now,” you wrapped your arms around your waist.

“And what would your wish be?” he replied, his eyes gazing at yours. But you didn’t tell him your wish, you simply actualised it as you brought your lips to his.

The warm taste of whiskey against the cold was mesmerising. Now you both had your bloodshot eyes closed you almost seemed like you could be a normal couple.

Xiaojun pulled away slightly, his thumb pressed lightly on your lower lip.

“I just want to remember how beautiful you are,” he explained. You were speechless at the sight off him.

The taxi Xiaojun had called pulled up in front of you. Xiaojun let go of you so you could get in the taxi.

“Goodnight,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, opening the door for you to get in.

“You can come too, back to my place I mean, if you want to, that is?” you propositioned, feeling oddly nervous, scared you weren’t quite on the same page. You shuffled over to the opposite side of the taxi so that he had the choice.

When he got in beside you and closed the door, you felt your heart begin to race slightly. Your heart leaping – literally. “322 Sinsa-Dong, Gangnam,” you said to the driver and the car started to move. Xiaojun moved his hand so his pinkie was touching yours across the seat between you and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You’re really cute you know?” you said to him. Xiaojun made a sad face,

“Surely if you invited me back to your apartment you must think I’m attractive, sexy, enthralling…” he said, quietly enough only you could hear him.

“You are all of those things too, but you really are cute Xiaojun, especially when you wear your glasses at work and your face concentrates on something hard.”

“You watch me at work? I never caught you staring at me once and I stare at you pretty often so I thought I would have noticed.”

“Always got to keep an eye on the competition.”

“I never knew you liked me back, that’s why I always kept my feeling hidden until now… I didn’t want to complicate anything, life is already hard enough,” Xiaojun explained.

“I didn’t realise I liked you either, I was too focused on winning, but at some point, I started to realise, I didn’t like winning if it meant you lost… that’s caring about someone I suppose. The passion… we already had that, enemies or lovers, the passion always existed.”

The car ride wasn’t much longer and neither of you said much, you simply paid the taxi driver and got out of the taxi, holding Xiaojun’s hand instinctively when you led him up the staircase to your flat.

It wasn’t an instant thing. You both spent your lives making split second decisions. You knew how important every second was and that’s perhaps why you took it slow.

When Xiaojun came in you hung his jacket up and asked him if he wanted anything to eat, he politely declined.

You settled for watching Netflix together in a drunken haze, your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around your shoulder.

It wasn’t until the two actors kissed, an hour into the movie that you began to refocus on why Xiaojun really was here.

His arm around you, suddenly seemed different to just moments before. Xiaojun’s blush matched yours as you turned to face each other. Unable to ignore the building tension any longer.

Neither of you were exactly pros, you spent far too much of your time working. When you thought back you hadn’t had sex in over a year. Now, sitting so close to Xiaojun, you wondered how it was possible that you had managed that. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Xiaojun began, “we can just continue watching TV and then go to bed, I can even go home if you want me too.”

Once again you didn’t respond with words but by kissing him. You sat up and moved so you were kneeling over his lap and leaned downwards, pushing him into your sofa cushions, until your lips met his.

His lips were slightly chapped from the cold, but you didn’t care, melting into his touch as his hands moved to grab your waist.

He sat up slightly to move closer to you, his hands pushing you down against his hips as he began to press kisses to your jaw and down your neck.

You jolted slightly with pleasure causing the friction between you to increase as your hands messed up his hair.

Beneath your thigh you could already feel Xiaojun starting to harden as your hips rolled back and forth against his.

“How comfortable is your bed?” Xiaojun asked, pressing his forehead against his, his breathing already affected.

You moved off him to stand up, grabbing his hand before you had time to miss his touch.

“You can be the judge,” you told him.

Xiaojun sat on the edge of your bed, taking the time to look at you as you tossed your dress to the floor, revealing your black lingerie.

“Did I tell you, you are beautiful,” he uttered, his gazed fixed on you, mesmerised.

You notice him readjust his trousers slightly, the bulge forming, starting to appear uncomfortable.

You walked over to stand between his legs as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Would you like me to help?” you laughed slightly, getting down onto your knees in front of him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “I can move so you can be more comfortable?” he offered. You shook your head and smiled.

“I assure you, I’m anything but uncomfortable,” you said, reaching to unbuckle his belt, before tossing it away as well. You unzipped his trousers carefully, Xiaojun sighed at the slight relief of pressure.

You pulled his jeans off his legs until he was just left in his boxers. You didn’t remove them immediately, you instead began to touch him through the underwear, causing Xiaojun to bite his lip slightly.

When the precum started to stain, you decided to put him out of his misery, pulling on his waistband until his cock sprung free.

For the first time you didn’t waste any time. You placed your hand carefully around his shaft as you ran your tongue over his tip slightly.

When you finally took him into your mouth it caused Xiaojun to elicit a moan so sweet you felt your core weaken.

Xiaojun’s leaned back as you started to move faster, the salty taste of his precum leaking into your mouth.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, “I want to look into your eyes as you suck me off.”

If that was his wish you were happy to oblige. You gazed up at him as his cock hit the back of your throat. Xiaojun let out a low moan.

“Your so fucking perfect,” he praised as he came, his cum leaking down your cheek as you tried to swallow it, “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

Once again you shook your head, wiping his cum from your face.

“Stop apologising Xiaojun, it’s making you cute again, not sexy,” you joked causing Xiaojun to chuckle.

Once you were on the bed next to him, he pushed you back into the cushions, propping himself over you.

He kissed down your neck and to your collar bone, reaching back to undo your bra clasp. It was his turn to toss your clothes away as he revealed your breasts, his eyes dilating.

He clasped your breast as he kissed you, pinching your nipple slightly causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I think I am sexy now, am I not?” he said, not waiting for an answer as he continued down your body, kissing your chest, down to your stomach until finally be pressed a kiss at your waistband.

“Are you ready babe?” he asked you, his eyes soft but his grin devious. You nodded, slightly lost for words as Xiaojun moved your panties to the side, not bothering to remove them before he dragged one finger across your wet opening.

You moaned loudly as he slipped his finger in, quickly adding a second as he pumped in and out. It was the best thing you had felt in ages, but it just wasn’t enough, you knew what you wanted.

“Please can you just fuck me already?” you asked him. Xiaojun bit his lip again grinning.

“Your wish is my command baby,” he said, finally dragging your panties down and leaving them to the side. He was already hard again from the sight of you in front of him.

He placed his cock against your wet folds but before he could enter you had another wish,

“Can I ride you?” you asked him. Xiaojun smiled slightly, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

“You can have anything you want y/n,” he said, sitting back so you could get up. You positioned yourself above him, his hands on your hips as you finally started to lower.

Xiaojun hissed softly as his length slowly entered you. You didn’t stop until you had taken all of him inside of you. You placed your arms around his neck and kissed him softly as you started to move, up and down him at a tortuous pace.

You didn’t want the moment to be over too quickly.

Xiaojun had other ideas, after a minute or so he started to push up into you, getting the message you speeded up, fucking him as quickly as you could.

“Fuck y/n,” Xiaojun cried out as he came closer to coming. You grinned slightly before moving off him completely. Xiaojun swore again at the loss,

“Are you punishing me for all the times I teased you?” he asked. You just chuckled.

“No, my legs are just tired, we can have sex whatever way you want to make up for it,” you said, stroking his hair lightly.

“On your hands and knees then babe,” he ordered, and you obliged.

Xiaojun began to fuck you again, but with him in control it much faster, much more needy. You whined his name as he fucked you relentlessly, his grip on your hips now strong enough to leave some sort of bruise.

“Please come in me,” you pleaded as you felt your high coming.

“So many demands baby,” Xiaojun remarked, tutting in mock dissatisfaction but really, he was happy that he was able to make you feel so good.

“Xiaojun!” You called out as you met your high, the feeling of your walls clenching around him causing, Xiaojun to cum too, just seconds later, filling you up until he pulled out.

You collapsed down on the bed beside each other, exhausted, glistening with sweat.

“You’re the best thing that job ever gave me,” Xiaojun said, pulling you in towards him, so your head laid on his chest.

“I think I would even lose the competition for you if you wanted,” he said, his finger tracing your cheekbone.

“I would never ask you to do that,” you replied, “also you really think I need you to lose, I can beat you Xiaojun, mark my words.”

“No chance,” he laughed, “Okay maybe some chance, but still, I will be the winner.”

You hit his chest lightly in jest.

“You’re overconfident.”

“No, I just know I’m already the winner, I have you as my girlfriend?” he half said, half asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded in agreement.

“I have you as my girlfriend,” he confirmed to himself, “then my wish has come true.”

“You’re cute Xiaojun,” you smiled, kissing his nose, “and very sexy,” you added.

From then on, every time you needed to make a wish; you knew Xiaojun would grant it.

[namjoonfluff]

Fervor

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

genre: a bit angsty but fluff at the end

summary: you’re on tour with BTS and Jungkook gets injured while you’re there.

word count: 2,600

It was easy to see how the boys kept their energy going throughout the shows. The dressing room was buzzing with frantic energy; makeup artists running around their stations with brushes galore, stylists attempting to straighten out the clothes they were wearing. Several people with headsets rushed hurriedly through the dressing room, keeping an eye on the band. They knew their jobs were on the line if any of the BTS boys missed their cue. And then there was you. Just you, the partner of Jungkook. You had nothing better to do than just observe the action carefully from your spot on the sofa, which was placed out of the way in a corner of the dressing room. In fact, you had been advised by management to stay out of the way. After all, the behind the scenes of BTS shows was a well-oiled machine and they didn’t need an unnecessary cog messing it up! 

If the management team hadn’t drilled that into your head already, Jungkook definitely had. He was less brash about it, simply asking you to busy yourself with work while they performed. However, it was hard to get anything done in the chaos that was the dressing room. What were you supposed to do? Take business calls over the shouts of the stage manager and chattering of the many makeup artists? There was no way this environment could foster any opportunities for you and your business so you simply just watched. While you made it sound like a chore, seeing what Jungkook was like at work was fun. You watched as he politely thanked the artist for touching up the foundation on his forehead and you loved seeing how he interacted with his bandmates; he was so care-free and relaxed around them. It could just be difficult at times. Between soundchecks and press opportunities to the actual shows themselves, you didn’t get much time to actually spend with Jungkook. There was an odd date here and there. But by date, it was going to the local fast food restaurant to grab a quick bite before heading back to the hotel to sleep. You can’t remember the last time the two of you had a full-on conversation like you used to do. The one-sided staring match you were having is cut short by the stage manager calling for the boys. You hear the thumps of music begin and thousands of fans screaming. It’s showtime! As soon as he hears the shouts, Jungkook is fully immersed in his world. He begins jumping up and down, getting pumped for the show that's about to start. There are whispers coming from his mouth as Jungkook recites lyrics he’s sung a million times before. He’s in the zone and so are the rest of them. That’s why when they exit the dressing room, Jungkook pretty much forgets you exist! He strolls past you, fiddling with his earpiece and microphone. It’s only when he’s out the door that Jungkook remembers you’re here with him. He quickly dashes back to the dressing room, gives you a sloppy kiss on the lips and runs to catch up with the boys. The chaos in the room slowly simmers as makeup artists and stylists filter out to get a quick break. It’s now that you can sit back and get some work done. You scroll through work emails, eyes quickly scanning over everything you’ve missed. As the Marketing Manager for a popular fashion brand in Asia, it was important that you kept up with your emails. You never knew what you might miss if you left them for just a day! The sound of tapping replaced the silence in the room as you responded to the most urgent emails. You had almost become scared of silence throughout your time with BTS. It wasn’t often that you were alone in a quiet room with just your thoughts to keep you company. The silence had you thinking about home, about your family and how you had basically packed up your life to follow your boyfriend around. And that frightened you! The thought of losing it all...

As you press send, the room begins filling back up with people. You didn’t need to look at the clock. You knew it was time for the first costume change in the show by watching the flurry of people entering the room! And no sooner had the makeup artists and stylists entered, the panting and sweaty members of BTS rushed in, stripping off their clothes as they went. You watched Jungkook carefully as it was so endearing to see his passion and love for his work. But today something was wrong. He wasn’t acting like his usual self! Jungkook tried his best to hide the fact he was limping into the dressing room. However, you could tell he was in pain from the way his head hung low and eyes stared at the floor. He sat back in the director-style chair and you saw the relief on his face as he took the weight off his feet. Jungkook’s chest heaved rapidly as the sweat was wiped from his brow and the artist patted it with powder. He always exerted himself too much and ended up getting hurt. Yet, no matter how many times people told him, he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. Not you, not the fans and definitely not his bandmates! Each of you shared a glance through the giant Hollywood mirror. Jungkook attempted to give you a weak smile but he had already spotted your concerned look. His eyes almost pleaded with you not to do or say anything. He didn’t want to make a fuss; he just needed to get the show over with for today. Then he could rest. As much as you wanted to make sure he was okay, you nodded and gave a reassuring smile. Jungkook was going to be fine - or so you thought! 

It’s no more than fifteen minutes later when Jungkook is being rushed off the stage and carried into the dressing room by one of their bodyguards. His face so contorted in pain that tears are streaming down his face and onto the bodyguard’s shoulder. You know what’s happened before anyone has to explain it to you. One of his arms is outstretched, reaching out to the heel of his foot - almost as if he’s a wizard trying to fix it with magic. But he wasn’t and this definitely wasn’t going to be a quick fix. They lay him out on the floor of the dressing room and call in a medic who can see to his foot. There are massive crowds of people surrounding him and it’s not long before the other boys join the group to check if their friend is okay. Somewhat excluded from the circle, you hover over someone to keep an eye on your boyfriend. As the medic takes hold of his ankle and examines it, Jungkook cannot hold back the screeches and groans any longer. It hurts to see him in so much pain while there’s nothing you can do. After all, you have the back of a bodyguard separating you and your boyfriend right now. There’s no way you’re going to be able to shove him out of the way to get closer to Jungkook. “We have a ruptured achilles, unfortunately,” The medic states confidently, looking at the boy’s swollen leg with precision. 

After hearing the diagnosis, Jungkook throws his head back against the floor and begins sobbing into his hands. It’s really the worst case scenario! A torn achilles is a death sentence for any athlete but it’s particularly bad for someone who performs for a living! You feel equally as devastated for him. Inside, he will be ruined for letting this happen and giving a poor show for the fans. “We have three songs left,” The stage manager calls into the dressing room. “The rest of you have ten seconds to get back on stage!” 

You watch as the rest of the boys make the hard decision to leave the room and Jungkook stupidly attempts to follow. However, he is quickly struck down as searing pain shoots through his lower leg. The room is quieter now and you’re able to get next to him finally. You grab his hand, soothingly stroking his knuckles with your thumb. 

“JK,” You whisper. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay!” “How do you know that?” He snaps through gritted teeth. Despite your immediate shock at his aggressive tone, you smile through it and continue to console him. He is hurt after all. “These things heal, baby,” You say softly, stroking the hair from in front of his sullen eyes. “It can be fixed!” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t need your optimism right now!” “I’m just trying to help,” You voice gets quieter and quieter with every word. He’s never shouted at you before during your relationship; not even when you destroyed his favourite T-shirt by getting paint all over it. You know it’s because he’s in so much pain but it doesn’t stop the words from creating a hole in your heart. A hole that travels to your throat and blocks it! “What help can you give me right now!” He spits, pointing down at his ankle which grows bigger and bigger every second. “My leg is fucked! I’ve ruined everything.” “It’s fine -” You attempt to reassure him but you are quickly cut off. “No, it’s not okay,” He shouts at the top of his lungs. If the whole room wasn’t looking at him already, they definitely were now. Not only are they looking at Jungkook but you felt the eyes of everyone burning into your back. It was then that you felt the tears prick your eyes and lump become harder to swallow. However, you tried holding them back for the sake of your dignity. You had only been on tour for a few weeks and you didn’t want everyone seeing you ugly-cry for the first time in what was going to be a year-long tour. 

“Can you just leave me alone?” His voice was just above a whisper now. It’s so quiet that you don’t catch what he said at first. Until he says, “Please!” You nod, unable to speak for fear of sobs coming out. It’s with his words that you dash out of the dressing room and head to the buses. That’s the only place you can be alone right now and even then, you have a bus driver sitting waiting expectantly for everyone. The driver simply smiles and nods as you run onto the bus in floods of tears. Your makeshift home for the last few weeks was annoyingly quiet; with just the hum of the engine running through the carriage and the faint sound of the driver’s radio. In the silence, you think about going home and throwing this all away. Was it really worth it? Was it worth being away from your family to see the boy you loved suffer? Did you deserve being shouted at for trying to help? As much as you loved Jungkook, the thoughts about your relationship lingered in your mind and there was nothing you could do to get rid of them. It was hard to shake them away without Jungkook, or the other boys, there to distract you.

As you contemplate how to tell Jungkook about your plans to go home, you hear multiple voices entering the bus. Rather than walking out to see what the commotion is, your back shuffles further into the corner of Jungkook’s bunk. In that moment, you wanted to disappear. If it was possible, you would have transported back to your hometown right then and there. You hear their voices; all of them. In between the concerns of the other boys, Jungkook is telling them he’s okay and asking for you. “She wasn’t backstage at the end of the show,” You hear Namjoon say. 

Someone, you think it’s Jimin, asks: “Did something happen?”

“Well, aside from ruining my leg,” You hear Jungkook say before he explains the situation to his friends. 

“She can’t have gone far,” Yoongi tells the group. “If she ran out with the fans, we would know about it by now!”

You hear Jungkook sigh loudly. “I really fucked up everything, didn’t I?” After listening to his words and how sad he sounded, you choke out a little sob. You never realised how hard touring with your boyfriend would be; trying to manage a job, maintain a relationship and stay sane. It felt you could only choose one of the two at this point. 

You soon realise the bus is quiet and you think that all of the boys have left to find you. However, a moment later, the curtain on the bunk is drawn back and you see a concerned (and hobbling) Jungkook outside. 

“Oh god,” He says after noticing the tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry for getting angry at you. It’s just that my leg hurt so much and I wasn’t thinking straight!”

Embarrassed, you hurriedly wipe your cheeks; thinking that by removing the tears, Jungkook would forget what he just saw. He wouldn’t. “Can I sit please?” He asks, trying to balance on his good leg. 

You nod. With that invitation, he carefully lowers himself down onto the bunk bed, wincing and moaning every time his leg so much as moves an inch. “Should you be doing this with your leg?” You ask. “Probably not,” Jungkook replies with a smile. “But I needed to check if you were okay!” 

There he was, putting everyone else before him again. He needed to stop doing that! That’s how he got into this mess in the first place and look at what happened. 

“I’m really sorry,” He says again. “I didn’t mean to get angry with you!” “It’s fine,” You say but your voice is hoarse from crying all that time. “I didn’t realise it would be this hard.” 

“I know,” He sighs. 

There is a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you. You wonder what he could be thinking. Is he thinking about the future of your relationship too? Did he want you to go home? “I think,” Jungkook pauses for a moment. You instantly start thinking the worst. It starts with you mentally starting to list all of the things you brought with you so you know what to take home. Then you think about how much money a flight home will cost. What will your friends say if you come home early? You dread to think what will happen if the press ever finds out. “You’re my rock, okay” He says. “I need you, I need you here, with me, at all times.” 

You are immediately shocked by what he’s saying. “It’s just not the same without you. You know me better than anyone, well maybe not the boys but you’re a close second.” You give him a glance. “What I’m trying to say is,” He huffs. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot and shouting at you. You were only looking out for me. I want to do the same for you!” “I love you!” He says. Immediately, your heart swells; you feel the broken pieces slowly repairing themselves again. 

“I love you too!” You whisper back, leaning over to place your head on his shoulder. He knows you love it when he strokes your hair - especially after you have been crying. It reminds you of your mum somehow! That’s why he goes on auto-pilot when you lean into him; hands automatically going straight to your crown and running his fingers through your locks. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re both asleep, exhausted from the long day you had. You fall asleep knowing that tomorrow would be a challenge. Jungkook was most definitely not going to lay quiet while the rest of the guys performed. However, you felt satisfied knowing that you would be right by his side through every moment; no matter how tough it was.

[living-dead-parker]

Homecoming Queen

Summary: Request by @kalianoble - I was thinking something along the same lines being Tony's daughter and friends with the team And someone actively is trying to replace her, but she sort of pours out everything into her music and songs that she writes

Inspiration: Homecoming Queen by Kelsea Ballerini

Songs Used in the fic (not my original writing, credit goes out to the musicians): With Ears To See And Eyes To Hear & The Left Side of Everywhere by Sleeping With Sirens

Pairings: Avengers x stark!daughter, Shawn Mendes x stark!daughter

Warnings: cussing I think, implied sex, ooc Avengers

Word count: 1.9 k

"Oh come on, she's not trying to replace you," your friend Serena states, trying to reassure you. Your frown deepens as you lean back in your chair until you're nearly falling off of it.

"The other day, she was in my dad's lab, laughing and chilling with him and Bruce,  as if they've been friends their whole life. Then, they barely acknowledge me and she would try to get rid of me way too quick."

Your friends wince, not entirely too sure how to respond to that. However they do feel bad, seeing how much it's taking a toll on you. Meanwhile, you sulk in your pity. As spoiled as it may sound, you'd always gotten attention from your dad and the Avengers. They never bothered to get to know any other interns or temps. Why now? What's different this time around?

Eventually, you find yourself back home and upon entering the common room, you see Peter, Sam, and Bucky sitting on a couch each. Much to your disdain, Chrissy, the Avengers thief is there too. You feel the dislike bubble inside of you. A smirk evident on her face.

"Hey, you," Bucky calls out, offering you a smile.

"Hey," you respond, not feeling or sounding too eager. They all pick upon it, but what they don't pick up on is the way Chrissy glares at you. Chrissy scoots closer to Peter, resting a hand on his thigh. You chose to ignore it.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asks.

"As much as I'd like to chit chat," Chrissy speaks up, sounding way too sweet to actually be sweet. "I think Tony might be looking for you."

"He is?"

Chrissy shrugs, picking at her nails, not looking up at you. "Last I checked," she mumbles. You roll your eyes, walking off towards your room. He would have called it it was important.

From that point on, nobody talked to you for the rest of the day. You stayed in the comfort of your room's solitude. Not a single person asked about you. Not when Chrissy was there to entertain. An angry sigh escapes your lips as you watch them all play a game of Cards Against Humanity without you. Everyone laughs as Chrissy cheers from winning another round.

The days seemed to pass by much in this fashion. Days turned to weeks, which turned to months. It was slowly growing on you until being alone was all you wanted to do anymore. The lonliness began to eat you up, making you feel depressed and angry. You'd begun to feel like you were truly loosing your place, and slowly, your assurance in your purpose.

Chrissy continued to climb the ranks and everyone was wrapped around her finger. You'd try to reach out to the others, understanding that communication is a two way street. However, it always seemed to fall apart as soon as Chrissy walked into the room. You're convinced she's watching your every move because she's always there to intercept every single interaction. Ultimately, she got to a point where she was invited to events.

Parties, galas, and any other event was no longer fun because all you ever got was a simple greeting and a rushed five minute conversation.

You sit alone at a table at one of your father's gala after parties. The gold dress you wear making you stand out, yet no one approaches. until you see an all too familiar man slowly walk up towards your table. Curly brown hair, warm brown eyes, and an inviting yet excited smile. It's contagious as you find yourself smiling back.

"This seat taken?" he asks. Looking up at him, and with a certain excited gleam, you shake your head eagerly.

"Feel free," you respond, watching as he pulls the chair opposite you out and takes a seat.

"I'm Shawn-"

"Mendes, I know," you cut him off. He looks amused as you gasp from how rude you're being. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off. I'm Y/N-"

"Stark, I know," he cuts in, a s mink on his lips as he leans back. You never really took him as a cocky person, bout here he is, making a Stark all flustered. "Can I ask why you're all alone?"

You seemed to naturally let your guard down around him. The walls were quick to fall and you held such deep and personal conversation with him. He reciprocated, letting you in on tons of personal information. As the night continued, the two of you talked, danced, and laughed together.

From that point on, the two of you became close friends and Shawn introduced you to the amazing world of writing and making music. As your family continued to push you away and fall into Chrissy's hand, you learned to write your feelings away in some of the most lyrically beautiful prose you could. So much so that Shawn was taken aback by it all.

As time passed, you found yourself constantly examining your relationship with Shawn, realising that it's not as platonic as you'd expected. The cuddling, the kisses, the hand- holding and gentle touching. Maybe the fact that you'd just slept with him last night, just before he's meant to leave for tour.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" he asks, stepping out of the restroom, towel wrapped around his waist. You bite your lip as you watch him  walk over. He picks up your shirt from the floor and tosses it at you nervously.

"I'll be fine," you tell him. He nods, still unsure. You sigh, kneeling on your bed and crawl over to him as he stands leaning against your bed. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips pecking his shoulder. "Seriously, I'll be fine," you assure him. "Maybe I'll write something new while you're out being a popstar," you joke. He chuckles, placing his lips to yours.

"Maybe you'll write something better than me," he states when he pulls away.  "Who am I kidding? I know you can."

Your heart swelled at his words. How can someone be so sweet and caring? So loving.

Once he left, you were stuck by yourself. However, you didn't allow yourself to get upset because you decided that you cannot buse all your happiness around Shawn. So, you got up and got productive. You showered, cleaned your room, got breakfast, and cleaned some more. You managed to say hi to your dad before Chrissy came along and you went back to your room. You grabbed your notebook and your pen, walking over to the garden room, guitar case on your back.

"Okay, we can do this," you say as you pull your guitar out. You flip open to the last song you wrote, one that's close to completion. Just needs a line or two. You then press record on your phone's voice recorder app.

"Falling over and over again," you sing, trying the chords you'd accidentally strummed the other day. You decided to keep the same general progression. "Oh, why does it have to be this way?"

The sound wasn't working, so you ditched the guitar, trying to find a sound through other mediums.

"From the place I was, to the place I am, to the place I want to be," you sing, following your own tune, letting your voice be your guide. "For the mountains I've been climbing over and under and over," you continue, finding your voice.

"From the place that I was to the woman I've become, I'll be there to see the tower you fall from," you belt out, really getting into it. "No this kingdom isn't quite what it may seem. You're an illusion you'll never be queen."

You sigh, flipping the pages in your notebook. "We'll come back to that one later, let's try Left Side of Everywhere," you tell yourself. This song was complete, now it's just a matter of recording it.

"There is no doubt tonight," you sing as you strum along on the guitar. However, you find yourself ditching the actual lyrics and singing something new. "I'm falling, I'm falling so in love with how you are to me. For you I would give anything, try to be a better person."

The words took you by surprise as you think of Shawn. You take a pause, falling into a rabbit hole of emotions and thoughts.

First and foremost, you're in love with Shawn. How could you not be? He's been nothing but kind and supportive of you. He's helped you through multiple breakdowns and he's given you purpose again. Sure, you've always had purpose even before he came along, but he helped you realize thats you're so much more than Tony Stark's daughter or a friend of the Avengers. So much more than just Shawn's friend. It doesn't matter if everyone is blinded by Chrissy's temporary shine, because you're so much more than that and you have things to say. Shawn encourages that. You don't need people who easily push you away and forget about you when someone new comes along.

"Now that I have the world in front of me," you sing excitedly. "I'm never turning back. How could I ever let this go?"

You pick the guitar back up and press record again, repeating the line and letting all your thoughts out.

"So many times I fall, I'm falling, I fall apart," you sing. "I'm so concerned with pity things, it drags me farther down. Why do we run from things we're scared of? I see it now it's all so clear. No, there's no turning back from here. Now that we have the world in front of us, we're never turning back. How could we ever not believe?"

It all seems rather silly, but you grow more excited with every word. You lose track of every word you've sung, but good thing you recorded it. Finally, after a minute, you end it, settling on going back to a loving tone,

"How could I ever let this go? I love the thought, what this all could mean. You're the only good thing left in me. Now that I have the world in front of me, I'm never turning back. How could I ever let this go?"

With that you call it a day.

Three months later, Shawn comes back, way too excited to see you. He arrives at the tower, meeting you in the common room where everyone, Chrissy included, is hanging out. He steps out of the elevator, quick to pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours in a sweet yet passionate kiss. When the two of you pull away, you grab his hand, pulling him towards the hall without acknowledging anyone.

Back in your room, you show Shawn your semi completed album. He listens to it, a large smile placed on his lips.

"So?"

He pauses as he pulls you into his arms. "It's amazing, just like you."

You smile, pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss, pulling away to mumble a simple question. "Be my girlfriend?"

An excited squeal escapes your lips as you eagerly nod. Loving every second of this moment. You're excited. For your future, in music and with Shawn. Hopefully, a reconciliation will be in your future as Well, but for now, you're okay with where you are and you believe everything will fall firmly into place.

Send in feedback, requests, or asks, plz and thank you!!

[erin-bo-berin]

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 2)

MASTERLIST

Part 1

Part 3

Hard Love (unofficial Part 4)

Since I couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long, here is part 2 of my Spencer/Reader/Cat fic. This is where things kind of go in a different direction from the show, but I thought it would be a nice twist than what we know from the show. This takes place over about a year so that’s why there’s so many skips in time. But in this part, there’s some answered questions from the first part...only to be replaced with more unanswered questions and perhaps another cliffhanger. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Word Count: 4,168

Rating: G (some angst, some fluff)

Grief is a strange thing.

Some people grieve quietly, away from the public. Others, dive into work or another activity to keep their mind busy as they try to place that grief into something else. Occasionally, people skip grief and go straight to anger, questioning the world why they lost their loved one; but in most cases one grieves normally, keeping the person alive in their memories as the pain fades and becomes easier to live with.

But sometimes, grief can consume you. It can completely engulf your entire body, feeling like every cell of your being has been replaced with sorrow. The world doesn’t seem real as the only world you inhabit is the one inside you, filled with despair and sadness. No one could ever be able to describe it, no one could truly know how awful it feels.

You had never felt such a horrible feeling. At least not until now.

•

It was less than a week later that Spencer’s funeral was held. The amount of people that had shown up was astounding, not that you could blame them. Spencer truly was one of a kind; not only great at his work, but a wonderful person.

You couldn’t help but think the sea of black that surrounded his casket was a metaphor for your current emotional state. The world felt dulled by your pain. 

With nowhere else to go, you were forced to stay at Spencer’s apartment, a blessing and a curse in one.

The dark green walls, the deep brown furniture, the living room filled with shelves and shelves of his books were both comforting and painful at the same time. You couldn’t help but notice just how quiet the entire place felt without him to fill the atmosphere with his knowledge and loving nature.

Almost immediately after the funeral, you took to staying in bed. The deep brown sheets still smelled like him and you didn’t want to leave. You just wanted to stay in this little bubble forever.

•

 The scenery was filled with busy streets, people walking by on the sidewalk and cars and buses zooming past on the street.

He sat at an outdoor table of the small café, sipping his coffee, awaiting his company. It wasn’t long until he spotted her amongst the crowd of pedestrians, her long blonde ponytail swinging as she walked.

“Hey,” she sat down across from him.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

She pulled out two manila envelopes, ready to get down to business. 

“In here is the information you need to access both of your bank accounts. One here in Moscow, the other in St. Petersburg. Both have enough in them for you to be comfortable while you lay low.”

“Alright,” he took both envelopes and put them in his bag for safe keeping.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’ll be fine. How is she?”

She blew out a breath, not sure she could tell him just how bad it was.

“Not good.”

“Promise me one thing, okay?”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Take care of her while I’m gone. Please, JJ, that’s all I ask.”

She nodded, moving to stand.

“Be careful, Spence.”

•

It’d been only a month. 30 days since you’d heard the terrible words “Spencer’s gone”.

You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he never made it off the operating table. The bullet had just been too hard to find, there was too much blood, he was crashing too fast.

At least that’s all you could remember being told by the doctors, the numerous members of the BAU and other people you couldn’t remember. It was like the entire experience had been wiped clean from your mind, only bits and pieces of memory flashing here and there.

Your mental health had taken a nosedive. You barely left bed because all you wanted to do was sleep. You ended up losing your job, but you didn’t have enough energy in you to even care. 

You didn’t eat.

You barely managed to get out of bed for a shower. Somehow you stumbled to the shower maybe once a week and that was because your friends made you.

It had been a rotating crew of the team visiting you. 

Mostly it was Penelope, Emily and JJ, but Rossi, Morgan and Tara stopped by a few times too.

Even Hotch showed up.

You could tell just how much your misery bothered him and he, like Morgan, spent his time trying to make things right rather than pay you visits.

Not that you cared all that much.

“We will catch her,” Emily said.

You sat in the middle of the bed, one of the brown sheets in your hand as you played with it, not looking up at your company that was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Spencer wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want to see you not able to leave bed, not being able to grieve properly,” she said gently.

“I don’t know what Spencer would want. Cause he’s not here, is he?!” Your lower lip trembled, tears threatening again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, brushing away the tears although it did no good since they were falling faster than you could wipe them away.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Emily pulled you into a hug, “We all miss him too.”

She let you cry until you felt completely drained of tears. With all the crying you’d done, you were amazed there were still tears left to shed.

“Have you eaten anything today?” She pulled back, looking at your face.

“I tried to eat some toast this morning, but I threw it up.”

“It’s probably because you haven’t eaten much,” Emily answered, “Do you want me to get you something? We could order a pizza?”

You shake your head, your stomach rolling at the thought of it.

“Thank you, but no.”

When Emily left ten minutes later, you crawled back into bed, shutting your eyes, willing sleep to come and rob you of your memories.

•

“We should tell her.”

“Garcia, no. You know that Hotch advised against it,” Morgan said.

“But she’s miserable,” Emily added.

“Guys, Spencer made us promise we wouldn’t tell her. It’s safer that way. If she knows he’s alive, Cat could come after her to get to him. That’s the last thing he wants,” JJ said.

“I was just over there last night and took her some food. I thought she was going to puke just looking at it. It’s like she’s wasting away to nothing,” Penelope frowned, “Literally and figuratively.”

“Reid was basically all she had, other than us. With no family left, we’re all she has,” Rossi jumped in.

“That’s why we’re not going to give up on her, okay? Or finding Cat,” JJ said, looking around at the other teammates, “We’re going to find this bitch if it’s the last thing we do.”

•

The next time you had company, you were too busy with your head in the toilet to hear anyone let themselves in.

“Oh my goodness, honey.”

You hear the distant voice of Penelope Garcia as she rushed into the bathroom, kneeling to rub your back as you retched again.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“I haven’t eaten anything for 48 hours. I’m amazed there’s anything left in me to throw up,” you groaned.

“How about I make you some of my infamous Garcia chicken noodle soup?”

You nodded, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent and let her assist you back to the bedroom.

“You look horrible,” Garcia winced, “Sounds like you’ve caught a nasty bug.”

You pulled the sheets up over you as you laid back down.

“Tell me about it. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t for throwing up. Plus I guess I’m starting my period cause my boobs hurt like hell.”

“Oh that’s the wor-” she paused mid sentence and you look up at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I’ll be back in a little bit okay? You just rest and I’ll get that soup started.”

She dashed out of the room and you peered after her, too exhausted to question what was wrong. Soon after, you drifted off.

-

“JJ, Y/N’s throwing up, exhausted and her boobs hurt doesn’t that sound just like…?”

Penelope was pacing the length of the kitchen, which wasn’t very big to begin with, as she talked to JJ on her phone.

“Yeah, it does,” JJ agreed.

“Should I ask her or?”

“Give me an hour to grab Emily and we’ll be there.”

•

“Y/N?”

In your dream, you woke to Spencer shaking you gently, smiling sweetly down at you. Your heart swelled with love for him, just looking up at him. You reached out to touch him, when he called your name again. Only it wasn’t coming from him this time.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You felt a gentle shake of your shoulder and your eyes opened to see JJ, Emily and Penelope surrounding you. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, confused.

“What’s going on?”

“Garcia called and told us you’ve been pretty sick lately,” Emily said, “I remember you said you were sick the last time I visited. How long have you been throwing up?”

You shrugged, “It’s been off and on for a few weeks. Why?”

The three exchanged a look before turning back to you.

“When was your last period?” JJ questioned.

“Oh, uh,” you stopped to think, realizing you’d been so consumed with grief you hadn’t even registered the absence of your monthly cycle.

“About two months before the hitmen case.” Your eyes widened at the realization.

That was over 3 months ago now. Then, you’d just assumed it was stress making you skip your periods.

“Could you be pregnant?” Garcia gasped, trying hard to suppress her grin.

“I...I don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

You couldn’t remember the last time you and Spencer had been intimate. The last few months of his life had been so busy, filled with cases that usually it was just a matter of being together when you had a spare moment.

“Don’t worry. That’s why we brought these.”

JJ held up a bag with three different pregnancy tests.

“One for each of us to check,” Emily added.

“Now why don’t you go take these and go take a shower. We can check them after you get out,” Garcia said.

You nodded, obeying their orders. 

After a quick shower, you stood in fresh clothes, your hair still dripping wet. The three women stood looking at the pregnancy tests you’d taken and left out.

“Well?” you asked, biting your thumbnail.

“Positive,” JJ answered.

Emily looked up from hers, “Positive.”

“Positive!” Garcia squeaked, bouncing on her feet.

You felt your mouth drop in utter surprise and wonder, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

“I’m...pregnant?” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes, a small smile on your face.

“You’re pregnant!” Garcia squealed, rushing over to hug you, the other two joining in on the group hug.

For once, your tears were tears of joy. There was a part of Spencer that would always live on through this baby.

You had a reason to live again; a tiny, growing reason, but a reason nonetheless.

•

The following weeks were less than desirable in your opinion.

After being forced to visit the hospital by your friends and having an examination by Derek’s fiancé Savannah, you discovered that you were severely dehydrated from your weeks of grieving.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty knowing you’d deprived your little one of the food and nutrients it needed to grow. Savannah—who happened to be close to delivering her and Morgan’s first child—had assured you that after some fluids from a couple of IVs you would be fine. All you had to do from here was to continue to eat properly and take your prenatals and the little one would be just fine.

“This is what you get to look forward to,” she’d  chuckled, rubbing a hand over her round 35 week pregnant belly.

You had found out that you were 12 weeks along, just a week shy of your second trimester. Unfortunately, you had still experienced morning sickness all day long and still only looked bloated, not pregnant.

But time passed quickly.

Four months turned into six. Six turned into eight. There were many changes that happened around you besides the growing human inside of you.

The search for Cat continued, the team working their asses off to find her, but with no luck nor leads.

Changes to the team happened too.

Derek Morgan retired from the FBI, wanting to be with his now wife, Savannah and his little boy Hank. You’d sent him off tearfully. He was one of Spencer’s best friends, one that you had become close with too over the years, but you knew he was going to be the best dad.

A new member joined in his place, Luke Alvez. He had been familiar with Spencer as well and the team welcomed him into the family, as did you. 

Then Hotch decided his time with the FBI was coming to an end. After a particularly grueling case, he put in his resignation paperwork. He was happy to be a more involved father to his almost teenaged aged son, Jack. You wished him all the best, knowing he was going to have the time of his life with more time for Jack, even though it was hard to see him go.

Emily stepped up as the new unit chief and brought in agent Matt Simmons, another agent you were familiar with. A tall, handsome, hardworking sweetheart, you were glad to welcome him to the team as well.

The changes within you were just as extreme as the ones around you.

Your belly grew bigger, your little one stronger. You felt kicks and movement daily now, each move warming your heart, although you couldn’t help but wish quite often that Spencer was around to witness this. He would be so in love with this baby, you were sure of it.

You struggled with the decision to find out the sex of the baby. With a vote between you and your friends, it was a unanimous vote for yes.

Mere weeks after the discovery of your pregnancy you found out you were carrying a precious baby girl. You were completely overjoyed, as was the entire team. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the team of people that would be loving extended members of the family and of course, babysitters. Occasionally though, the melancholy feeling would creep back into your subconscious.

Spencer would’ve been over the moon knowing he was going to have a little girl. He would’ve spoiled her so much and she would have him wrapped around her little finger. You missed him daily, even though a part of him grew in your belly. You couldn’t help but be sad for your little girl who would never have the chance to meet her amazing father.

It was then after many weeks of contemplating a name, that the perfect one came to you. You decided to keep it a secret until she was born, much to the team’s dismay, but you wanted it to be a surprise. In your heart though, you knew it was the perfect name for her. 

-

Your ninth month of pregnancy had finally arrived as did the other symptoms of your final trimester. You were tired, achy and felt like you’d swallowed a watermelon. You were so ready to get this baby out.

As if overnight, Spencer’s apartment had been filled with baby things in preparation for her arrival. Her crib was in the spare bedroom, although she wasn’t going to leave your side for the first few months, hence the bassinet next to the bed in the bedroom.

Bottles were lined up in the kitchen, boxes of diapers sitting in the living room. You couldn’t believe it was almost time to meet her; secretly you hoped that she took after her daddy, both in looks and personality.

“How are we feeling today, mama?” JJ asked when you met her and Garcia for your weekly lunch.

“Like a huge, swollen basketball,” you laughed.

“Hey princess, auntie Penelope can’t wait to meet you,” Garcia rubbed your belly, making you grin.

“Maybe you need to give her more pep talks because I’m so ready for her to get out,” you groaned, “And to see my feet again.”

“Henry and Michael are so excited for her to be born,” JJ chuckled, “I’m going to have to tell them to be gentle with her though, they’re not used to little girls.”

You grinned. You loved JJ’s two boys. Spencer had been their godfather, so you’d kind of become an auntie to them. She often brought them to visit you when you were still grieving Spencer’s death and they were the only ones who could bring a smile to your face during your darkest period.

After you’d found out you were pregnant and started rebuilding your life again, you often volunteered to babysit them. Other than your little girl, they were the ones who motivated you to begin healing and getting stronger. 

They got more excited the bigger your belly grew. Henry, the oldest would often try to explain to his younger brother Michael that babies came from mommy’s tummies. He also told him that there came a point when mommy and daddy loved them so much that there was no room left for the baby in the mommy’s belly. So, the baby had to come out in order to get the rest of that love. It warmed your heart knowing that one day, your child would be this big and this smart.

You were so thankful for them and for the entire team in general for pulling you out of the hole of despair you’d been in for you might not be sitting here right now.

When you’d ordered, the three of you sat and chatted about their current cases and baby stuff until you felt a slight trickle down your leg. With a glance under the table, you realized your pants were soaked. For a moment, you thought you’d peed yourself.

You groaned, expressing your concern. Even though that was just a symptom of pregnancy, it wasn’t any less embarrassing.

But the flow of the trickle became heavier. When JJ came around the table to assess the situation, her eyes widened, taking in your now soaked seat.

“I think your water just broke.”

A flurry of activity followed.

-

18 hours of labor and nearly 2 hours of pushing later, you were holding your daughter, staring at her in amazement.

Her tiny fist was holding onto your finger and you smiled down at her, tears blurring your vision. It was early yet, but you thought she looked just like Spencer.

She had a head of brown hair, his eye shape and his mouth, but your nose; although it looked much cuter on her.

“She’s so cute,” Garcia cooed at her, stroking her cheek.

“Spence would be so happy, Y/N,” JJ said.

You smiled up at them. They’d been the ones you’d requested to be in the delivery room and they’d been amazing helping you through the rough labor.

“Can I hold her?” 

“Of course,” you smiled, handing her to Penelope.

“Me next,” JJ smiled, holding her little hand.

“So are you gonna tell us her name now or what?” Garcia urged.

“Yes,” you smiled, “I thought it would be appropriate for her to always have a part of her daddy with her. So I decided to name her Spensa. Spensa Rose Reid.”

“That’s beautiful,” JJ breathed, looking down at her, “Hello, Spensa. You look just like your daddy.”

•

Adjusting to being a single mother was difficult, but so rewarding. It helped a ton that you had so many willing helping hands, as well.

Spensa was such a laid back baby and loved to be sociable, even at five months old. She truly was the light of your life.

You loved watching her grow and learn new things, from rolling over to waving and clapping her hands. She babbled a lot as well nowadays.

Her dark head of hair had lightened to a lighter shade of brown and was just starting to curl at the ends. Her blue eyes surprisingly hadn’t turned dark yet and she still looked so much like Spencer.

She had the little dimples in the side of her cheeks that only showed up when she made specific expressions and she liked to scrunch her nose occasionally, just like daddy. It was almost hard to tell that she was yours, but you didn’t mind one bit.

She was the sweetest baby and you fell in love with her more every day.

As to be expected, the entire team fell head over heels for her and often took turns visiting when they had time. Sometimes, you even took her to the BAU to visit all her aunts and uncles.

You often talked to her about Spencer, even though you knew she was too young to understand. It was amazing how the knowledge of her had eased so much of the grief you had felt those first few months. You still longed for him, missed him so much, but in a way he was alive and with you within Spensa.

It was nearing her bedtime one night and you were rocking her in the chair next to the crib.

“Do you want to hear another bedtime story about daddy?”

She baby talked in response, playing with her toy giraffe.

“Well, your daddy was the bravest man I know. He was so passionate about his work and he was good at it too. He was sweet as you are, ladybug.”

You tickled her stomach, smiling at her giggles.

She laid back in your arms, still playing with the toy in her arms, her gaze on you.

“He cared so much about the people he loved. He would have loved you too munchkin. He loved kids so much and he wanted his own some day. I wish he could be here to see you.”

The tears choked you and you wiped a hand over your face as they fell. Spensa started fussing as if she could sense your sadness.

“It’s okay baby,” you repositioned her on your lap, reaching for the frame of you and Spencer on her dresser.

“You wanna say goodnight to daddy?”

Spensa babbled to the picture, putting her hand on it. 

It might have seemed silly to do such a thing every night, but you never wanted her to not know who Spencer was.

You kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Spensa.”

•

In Moscow, it was a pretty standard day for Spencer. 

He had managed to set a pretty strict schedule in his time here. It had been nearly a year and he had gotten used to life in Moscow. He still worried daily about his girlfriend though, worrying for your safety.

It was Thursday evening, the usual time he went to the market, yet when he returned to his place, something felt off.

On the entrance table, there was a lone red rose and a note. His eyes scanned over the note.

Roses are red

Violets are blue 

I have a surprise

And a secret too

Love,

Cat

He automatically reached for his gun that he carried at all times, just underneath his pant leg, in an ankle holster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came the taunting, familiar voice from behind him.

He turned around to face the living room and saw Cat sitting in one of the arm chairs, her gun on the arm.

“Spencie,” she grinned, “Miss me?”

•

It was just after nine. Spensa had just been put down again after her 8 o’clock feeding and you were attempting to rinse some dishes off before you headed to bed.

The tv played in the living room and you turned, confused when you no longer heard any sound coming from it. You shrugged it off, chalking it up to a possible power outage.

You returned to the dirty dishes, the clinking plates masking the noise of the sliding porch door clicking shut. A creak from behind you made you freeze in place. You glanced up, a figure approaching behind you clear in the reflection of the window. 

Before you even had the chance to cry out, something hard struck the back of your head and everything went black.

•

You groaned, your head pounding. You reached up to rub the sore spot, wincing as you try to sit up. It was bright behind your eyes and you fought to slowly open them, blinking a few times until your surroundings come in to focus.

That’s when you saw them.

Across the room stood your dead boyfriend, lips locked with none other than Cat Adams.

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[cayenne-twilight]

Hi! If you're still taking fanfic requests, could you maybe write something with Clive and Dimitri? Maybe them talking and/or reconciling after they get out of prison, or maybe something while they were working on Future London together. Just something sort of friendshippy :D I'm cool with or without angst, whatever works best for the story. If you don't want to do it though or aren't inspired, that's okay ^^ Thanks for offering to do requests!

Rain pelted down from the overcast sky like needles, piercing the cobbles. Each drop caused a tiny shockwave splash before joining the river snaking down the street, rushing to the lowest point where it poured into a drain like a drove of lemmings. The drab greys and blues cast a mute darkness over London, chilling the air. Not like “nice” weather would make much of a difference, Dimitri thought. He shook his umbrella under the hooded bus stop, pointing it as far away from himself as possible. Despite the canopy, both the walls and the seats were somehow drenched, so he stood isolated.

Dimitri grumbled. These damn buses and their complete disregard for people’s time. They came of their own accord.

“What else is new?”

Dimitri looked over his shoulder, poorly masking surprise. Clive was leaning against the opposite side of the plexiglass panel, outside the bus stop, with no umbrella. His hair stuck to his forehead in strands.

“I didn’t see you get here.”

“I know.”

Dimitri looked him up and down. “You’re setting yourself up for one hell of a cold.”

Clive didn’t move, looking down the street rather than at Dimitri’s eyes. “I like it; it’s refreshing.”

The rain didn’t let down, bringing with it a distant crack of thunder and the ceaseless pattering of thousands of droplets smacking into the pavement. Dimitri watched the drops on the bus stop wall inch closer together before merging and streaming downward, immediately replaced by new ones. Clive’s heavy woolen coat absorbed the ones that wound towards it like a mop. He never took care of his clothes.

“They’ve started building the tunnels for the underground system,” Clive said. “And laying down foundations here and there.”

“Are you ever going to tell me where you got the money for this?”

“Nope. You know we want the same thing, so what does it matter? See, I was thinking, what if we made some of the buildings nothing but facades like those on movie sets? There’s no use building more houses than there will be people, and we can cut back on plumbing and insulation and whatnot.”

“Sure, that sounds reasonable, but I don’t see what it has to do with me. More importantly, what is it you want? Unless this is the oddest money laundering scheme of the century, nobody but you would pour this much money into a large-scale, dubious time experiment. You wish to reverse fate, I presume?”

Clive’s back was turned, but Dimitri saw him shift ever so slightly. Clive removed his hands from his pockets, crossing his arms, and looked over his shoulder, smiling.

“I trust in the success of your endeavors, Dimitri. Or rather, I trust in your expertise as a man of science.”

Dimitri met his eye. Clive made sure to hold eye contact just long enough before turning his back again, erasing his smile a smidge too soon.

Dimitri braced his closed umbrella against a gush of wind, spraying cold mist into his face. This would be the perfect moment for the bus to arrive. Any second now. Wind and rain were a bad combination.

“I’ll need to speak with you later to make sure you procure the exact materials I’ll need; even a bolt of the wrong size could send this project to the dogs. Say, why don’t I just come with you? That would simplify everything greatly.”

“You must be awfully busy. I’m willing to do what you need me to, but if you really want to come along, I won’t stop you.”

“I do. As soon as possible.”

A hint of annoyance tugged at Clive’s lip. “I’ll have to, er, reschedule my own affairs if that’s the case, but no matter. We’ll get you what you need.”

“...thank you.”

“You know, Clive,” Dimitri continued, “I’d quite like to get to know you outside of this whole business.”

“Really.”

“Really. How odd is it to barely know the man so kindly sponsoring one’s, if I dare call it so, passion project. I know nothing about you.”

“Odd. I’ve commissioned several restaurants to be built, so you can take your pick, but I hear one of your team members has a husband who’s a rather talented chef. He plans on opening a place called Chez Paillard in the arcade by the new hotel, which would be my first choice.”

“What’s stopping us from going somewhere on the surface? Surely they aren’t fully booked months in advance, unlike your underground reservations.”

“Ah I hadn’t even thought of it. I really need to get my sleeping schedule in check.”

Dimitri wasn’t one to pay attention to these things, but now that Clive mentioned it, he began to see the pure exhaustion present in his mannerisms. Perhaps he was focusing to the point of fabricated observations, but Clive’s hands seemed to shake ever so slightly as he pushed his wet bangs back.

A screech of metal rang out, preceding the puffing noise of brakes. Finally. The bus unceremoniously swung its flimsy doors open, revealing the tracks left by the wet shoes of strangers. Dimitri boarded gingerly so as not to slip, and went straight for the nearest open seat. Clive followed suit, paying for them both, and sat by his side. He rubbed his hands together vigorously.

“Are you alright?” Dimitri asked.

Clive tried to pull an unconvincing smirk across chattering teeth. “Of course.”

“You’re a real idiot.”

Clive narrowed his eyes, but didn’t protest, hugging himself and looking past Dimitri, out the window.”

Dimitri slouched, holding his umbrella between his legs like a cane. Reversing fate...

[teen-content-queen]

Late Night Calls

Fandom: AFTG Ship: Neil x Andrew Synopsis: Andrew’s surprised to get a late night phone call from Neil while Neil’s away.

Read On AO3

Andrew blinked down at the phone a few times, confused. The name Neil Josten stared up at him from the caller ID. The boy who hated using a cell phone was calling Andrew. Flicking his book closed, he set it on the nightstand by his bed before flipping open his phone.

“Josten.” He said. He could hear Neil breathing, the only thing that convinced Andrew there was someone on the other end of the call. He was about to say his name again when Neil’s voice cut through the silence.

“Hi.”

His voice sounded a little breathy and cracked with disuse, but he sounded like Neil. Andrew relaxed a little, knowing he wasn’t in danger or trouble. Andrew sat up a little, moving to get comfortable. His adjustment caused King to let out an irritated sound by his side where she was already asleep. He shot her a look which she ignored in favor of curling up again, eyes already closed.

“Your cat is a demon.”

That got a little chuckle through the line, the sound tinny on the long distance call. He heard the sound of a car passing nearby. Neil must be outside. Andrew checked the clock on Neil’s side of the bed and did the mental math.

“Junkie, you’re not stupid enough to take a run in a foreign country at 2 am, are you?”

“What? Oh, no. Just couldn’t sleep. I’m sitting on the front steps, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Andrew lied.

Gently this time, he shifted his weight in bed. Without stirring King from her slumber, he slipped out from under the covers and crossed the small bedroom to the glass door that revealed a small balcony.

He stepped out into the dark, plucking a cigarette from the pack always waiting on the small table they’d set up and took a seat in one of the two chairs. He lit his cigarette and looked out into the quiet night in front of him. He knew that across the ocean, Neil had a cigarette tucked between his lips, the smoke curling up towards his face.

“I can let you go, if you’re busy.” Neil said quietly.

“I just lit a cigarette.”

Andrew could have sworn he heard a small appreciative hum from the other end of the line. He flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him. It needed to be emptied and he made a mental note to do that in the morning. He heard something rumble loudly through the phone speaker. He imagined one of those bright red double decker buses rumbling past Neil, interior lights displaying nearly empty seating.

“How’s jolly old England?” Andrew asked, giving Neil permission to say whatever was on his mind. He heard Neil take in a breath.

“Fine.”

“105, Junkie.”

“It is fine...I just…” Neil breathed into the phone, so clear that Andrew resisted the urge to turn to Neil’s chair on the balcony to check that he wasn’t there. Andrew didn’t fill the silence even though he could feel Neil pleading for him to. Even across oceans and telephone lines, Andrew knew Neil.

“I miss home.” He finally said. Andrew could hear I miss you in the static of the phone line. He sank into his chair a little, taking a deep pull from his cigarette. He blew out the smoke, watching it curl above his head and dissipate into the darkness.

“Home misses you too.” Andrew said, meaning I miss you too. He continued,

“King is sleeping on your pillow. It’ll probably be full of cat hair when you get back.”

Neil let out a hum, no doubt picturing their fat now.

“You’re remembering to feed them right?” He asked. Andrew let out an indignant scoff.

“Yeah. Although Sir is starting to live up to her name so I think she should go on a diet.”

“She’s a cat.”

“Doesn’t mean we should let her get fat Neil.”

“You could stop giving her treats all the time.”

“I’m rewarding good behavior.”

“Meowing isn’t good behavior. It’s just like cat talk.” Neil argued.

“You’re just mad that she likes me better than you.”

“Because you’re giving her treats all the time. It’s not really an earned respect.”

Andrew just clicked his tongue, not justifying Neil’s logic with an answer. He finished his cigarette and snuffed it into the ashtray, sliding down into his chair and bracing both feet on the railing in front of him.

“How was practice?”

“Junkie.” Andrew said. Of course Neil was thinking about Exy at 2 am while he was away visiting his crazy mafia family. Andrew shook his head.

“If you want to talk about Exy, call Kevin.” He added for good measure.

“He’s probably up watching the USC game…” There was a long moment of silence from the other end of the line, as if Neil was considering it but Andrew gave in. He wouldn’t admit it,  but he didn’t want Neil to go just yet.

“Practice was boring, but it’s Exy so that’s to be expected. The new striker tripped on his laces, so that was a highlight.”

“Did you have something to do with his untied shoelaces?”

“No. No fun that way.”

“Sure…”

“Coach said you don’t need to start this week. He knows you’re getting back right back a couple hours before the game and might be jet lagged or whatever.”

“Oh.” Neil said. Andrew could hear the strained panic in his voice and let it hang there for a moment as punishment for making him talk about the game to begin with. Finally he added,

“I told him if you didn’t start, I wouldn’t try. So sleep on the plane.”

Andrew could hear Neil let out a breath before he hummed appreciatively and Andrew could imagine the face Neil was probably making now.

“Stop.” Andrew said.

“What? I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re smiling fondly at nothing, I can tell.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a bad liar. You used to be better at it.”

Neil scoffed through the phone before they sank into a comfortable silence, each man looking out into the nighttime ahead of him. Andrew could hear Neil stifle a yawn on the other end of the line.

“Neil.” Andrew said, voice quiet now.

“Andrew.”

“Go to bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Don’t act like an idiot.”

“I’m not.” Neil insisted, unsuccessfully trying to hide another yawn.

“I hate you.” Andrew said, words lacking any bite.

“So you’ve said.” Neil said.

“At least go inside. If you catch a cold, you can’t play.”

Andrew could hear fumbling through the speaker as the city noises got quieter and were replaced by the hushed tones of a quiet house. There was the creaking of feet on stairs and the soft thump of a door being firmly shut. The next time Neil spoke, his voice was low and quiet, not much louder than a whisper.

“I’m in bed. Happy?”

Andrew just let out a grunt in response, pulling himself up and out of his chair on the balcony to go inside, sliding the glass door shut and locking it again.

He observed the bed to find that King still hadn’t stirred from Neil’s pillow and at some point, Sir had come in from the kitchen and was sleeping on Neil’s side too. They weren’t the same as Neil, but Andrew found he appreciated their presence in the bed. He’d gotten used to the weight of a second person.

“Sir is trying to crowd me out of the bed.” Andrew complained, moving carefully under the blanket, trying not to shake Sir.

“Sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not sleeping on the couch so that the cats can have the bed to themselves.”

“I would.”

“Well you’re an idiot so it makes sense.” Andrew said.

Neil audibly yawned, but Andrew knew better than to tell him to sleep again. Instead, he just stayed quiet and let Neil tell him about the weird bedroom he was sleeping in before moving on to talk about all of the extended family members he’d met while he’d been in England. Just as Andrew had suspected, his voice got slower as he went on, finally trailing out and going quiet. Andrew listened to him breathing for a couple minutes before hanging up and sliding his phone onto the nightstand.

Andrew pulled the comforter up a little, settling in and looking up at the ceiling. Just a few more days and Neil would be home. Andrew smiled a little to himself before sinking into sleep.

[officialao3fandomlastforever]

Fluff #2 for Seamonkeys please!!

“Can we make cake? I like cake.”

Sure thing! I think I got just the idea for that. 

Hope you like it!!!

Itwas nearly midnight when Neptune finally stumbled back into the dorms. A longtrudge through the snow was not how he wanted to spend his after work hours,but with buses out of order and cars sliding in place in the banks, hefigured it'd be better to walk.

Histoes begged to differ.

"Ohhey! You're back!"

Neptunehung up his coat, glancing over to the kitchen where Sun was standing, holdinga ridiculously sized book. "Yeah, I'm back. What's up?"

"Dude,check this out!" Sun ran over, barely able to keep upright. "I foundit upstairs in the attic while I was on cleaning duty! It's a cookbook!"He flicked through the pages excitedly, stopping every so often to show off thephotos of the dishes. "Look at this! We could prep a whole feast with thisbad boy!"

"How?You can barely hold onto it."

"I'llget a podium for it."

"Seriously?"Neptune chuckled. "A podium."

"Whynot?" Sun asked indignantly. "It's too big for the counter and itneeds something stronger than a music stand."

"Okay.We'll see about a podium then." He grabbed Sun's shoulders and startedpushing him to the couch. "In the meantime, let's go sit over here so Ican warm up."

Sunsmiled brightly. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? Here, you sitdown and I'll start the fire."

BeforeNeptune could protest, Sun closed the book and tossed it into his hands,causing him to nearly bounce to the floor as the weight of it sent him crashingonto the couch, knocking the wind out of him. Where did a book like this comefrom anyway? It had to have been at least over fifty years old. The cover wasfaded to hell and back, but the recipes inside were still crisp and bright. Ashe flipped through the pages, he found there were old post it notes written inink that barely survived, mentioning alternate techniques and foods you couldreplace with alternatives if someone had an allergy. Whoever it was that usedthis before, they must have had been extremely thorough.

"So!"Sun chuckled, flopping down beside him once the fire was roaring."Anything that you wanna try?"

"Well…"Neptune smiled. "This seafood paella looks really good. And so does theroasted chicken and greens."

Sunnodded. "Yeah, and the desserts are pretty awesome too." He wrappedan arm around his shoulders, batting his eyes playfully. "Can we make acake? I like cake."

Neptunerolled his eyes. "You have your eyes set on the banana upside-down cake,don't you?"

"…andif I did?"

"Thenwe'll need to plan a whole dinner around that dessert. Go get a notebook andwe'll start planning a menu."

Sunsmiled and nodded, jumping up and running to get his binder. "Be rightback!"

"Andbring a blanket!"

"Gotit!"

"Andcocoa?"

"Outof milk!"

"Whyam I not surprised?"

Neptunelet out a sigh and set the cookbook down, pulling his legs up so his feet weretucked in as much as possible. The heat of the fire slowly filled the room, andonce Sun returned, they snuggled under the blanket together. Neptune lethimself lean against Sun's shoulder, smiling contently as they continued theirmeal plan. It went beyond just a simple dinner, and soon began to morph into afull on feast with a guest list a mile long.

"Howabout we do this for New Year's?" Sun asked. "Then we can just inviteeverybody and not worry."

"Mhm…thatsounds good."

Sunlooked down, his eyes soft and warm. "You're falling asleep."

"NoI'm not," Neptune yawned.

"Yesyou are." He set everything down on the table and lay back, pullingNeptune to rest on top of him. "Come on. Time for bed."

Neptunewanted to protest, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier with every passingsecond, and soon he just couldn't keep them open any longer. "Okay, Igive. Night Sun."

"NightNep. Sleep tight."

[knightofameris]

the calm into the storm — infinity war

Setting: Immediately after the snap in IW Gender: None? Or Neutral ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Contains: Lots of death (teenagers, adults) blood, I guess the stuff I wrote counts as OC’s. Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: The world was calm, it continued to exist as the UN hid what happened to Tony Stark to the world and what was happening in Wakanda. But people continued to live life, knowing that whatever was happening, if something was going to happen, the world would be alright as long as they had the Avengers. Or at least whoever was left over. However, the repercussions of the Avengers’ loss would be felt by the people of the world, and it was too late for them to even realize.

a/n: Let me know if there are any mistakes! (rest at the end)

Enjoy! [respot from old account]

❝ i like these calm moments before the storm. it reminds me of Beethoven ❞ — gary oldman

Stars. The shining dots that brighten our sky in the darkest of nights. No matter what the time of day is, they’re always there, always with us. They shine bright or they’re hidden from our own star’s light. There’s beauty hidden behind each of them; an unknown story that has yet to be told. From their gaseous births to their flickering deaths. The stars are wondrous things; as are the moons and planets and just about everything in this universe.

Stars. That’s all Valkyrie could see. That’s all she hoped she would see as her and the other escape pods set off towards Earth.

Her stomach was filled with emptiness and uneasiness. Her jaw clenched as she thought about what most likely happened to Thor and Loki. The ship had exploded; no one could’ve survived that. She didn’t even receive any calls from the two brothers and it’d been days.

Perhaps she should’ve told them her name, her real name. Brunnhilde. She figured they’d know who she was, that she’d be able to fight what’s-his-name and save Asgard.

“This isn’t about fighting and winning,” Thor responded to Brunhilde’s want to fight. “This is about saving the people of Asgard and ensuring their safety. I trust you to keep them safe.”

Brunnhilde shook her head at the memory. She turned around to face the people only to bump into a solid body of rocks.

“Whoop, sorry there,” Korg said. “At least I didn’t step on you, otherwise you’d be dead.” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes at the comment before walking around him. Uneasy Asgardian eyes looked up at her and something pulled at her in her chest. The amount of pain and battle these Asgardians had gone through the past few weeks have been more than any normal civilian should be going through. But they did.

“You know, I think they need a little something to be uplifting,” Korg motioned towards the people. “After their planet being blown up and their king most likely dead, they do need a new leader.”

Brunnhilde turned to face Korg with a stern look etched on her face. “But I’m not a leader. I’m a Valkyrie. All I need to do is keep them safe until we reach Midgard.” And she walked off into the crowd of people.

But something set her off when she felt a chill go through her. All the talking on the pod ceased but pained gasps and short screams replaced it. The sudden imagery of people fading into ash, it stunned Brunnhilde. Her people’s population was already at a low, how could this happen to them?

She gripped her sword on her hip and began to run towards Korg.

“Korg, what’s happening?”

***

“Pass the salt!” The teenager growled at her younger brother for the fourth time. The boy stuck his tongue out before shoving the salt into the girl’s hand. She could only roll her eyes in response but mumbled out a ‘thank you’ after. The sounds of her mother scolding Christian, her brother, filled the air.

The smells of homemade food on the table caused the family dog to dive under the table, hoping for a little snack from one of the family members. Christian glanced at the people sitting down and quickly snatched some of his dinner off his plate for his dog. The furry tail of the golden retriever smacked the legs of the table loudly.

But when the click of the front door opening and closing caused the family dog to bolt towards the it, the family stopped talking to see who the newcomer was. The parents exchanged looks, they weren’t expecting anyone else at the table. With a smile, a man in his early twenties holding a luggage and a few other bags entered the dining room. The family dog circled around his legs and barked.

“Michael!” The girl smiled and jumped out of her seat, the table shook and a few of the drinks in the cups spilled out. The bags fell to the floor when Michael opened up his arms.  

“Hey Amy!” Michael’s arms surrounded the young girl as he lifted her up in the air. Sounds of laughter became more apparent in that household. The dad of the house ended up preparing another meal for their newcomer and conversations between the small family brightened up.

“So, how’s life with you and your boyfriend?” Christian asked his older brother. But instead of a reply that one would expect, the clattering of silverware on the table and a veil of silence appeared. The remnants of their oldest brother were left behind by a pile of ashes. Even the sounds of their dog panting disappeared and upon looking under the table, you’d only be met with more ashes.

“Honey?” Their dad looked down at his hands in disbelief before disappearing himself. Amy gripped onto her mother’s arms the moment she felt there was something wrong.

“Mom?” She croaked out before she ended up turning into ashes. Christian and his mom were left sitting there for a few moments before she rushed over to him and hugged him as tight as she could.

“Mom? What’s… What’s going on?”

***

The monitor sounds in the operating room beeped every so often, each one signaling the heartbeat of the patient. The surgeon and nurses were decorated in the typical blue hospital attire while a few students watched from an operating theater. Nurses walking around to grab certain tools, nurses holding parts of the patient’s surgical wound open, and others holding a light made the surgeon’s job easier.

“Miss, we’ll have to hurry this up or he’ll be needing a blood transfusion soon,” one of the nurses stated. The unsoundly noises made by the bloodied gloves of the surgeon caused a few students to gag.

“Have we been given permission to do so?” The surgeon asked, never once looking away from her hands.

“Yes.”

“Then get it ready.” Immediately, other nurses flooded around to ensure that their presence didn’t clog up the room. They were to be made useful. Students in the operating theater hands flew across their papers as they observed how surgeries were done.

The sound of a clipboard falling onto the floor caused all of the students to turn towards the origin of the noise, only to be greeted by an empty chair. Brows furrowed and they looked back into the operating room, goosebumps forming on the arms of all who watched. The surgeon was nowhere to be seen and the nurses left in the room scrambled to save the patient’s life even as they faded themselves.

***

The rising sun met the joggers hazel eyes as she adjusted her earbuds, moving her curly hair out of her face. It was still really dark out and she was hoping she didn’t have to deal with any leftover muggers since it was her first time running this early. But she smiled as she saw people starting to leave their apartment buildings to head into the subways, buses, or taxis, signaling that she should be safe.

The jogger looked down at her phone on the arm and quickly changed it to a radio station to catch up on the news.

“In other news, Tony Stark is still reportedly missing. Colonel James Rhodes, or also known as War Machine, has yet to make a statement.”

“It feels like the UN is hiding something from us, I just have a bad feeling.”

“Is this why you were so against the signing of the Accords?”

“Well, yeah, but that was two years ago and now we…”

Each step the runner took was easy for her. But the ongoing argument between the two radio reporters made the woman frown. She no longer stayed focused on where she was running and who was around her. So when a man grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into an alleyway, she could only stumble and fall on her side.

She yelped and her phone fell out of her arm band and slid away from her. Slowly raising her head up at her attacker, her eyes widened when seeing the gun in his hand. She could feel the stinging on the side of her leg and arm but ignored it as she watched the barrel of the gun being shoved in her face, not even realizing that his hand was shaking.

“Y-You’re gonna come with me,” the man stuttered out. “You’re my hostage, and yo-you’re gonna help me.” The sounds of the radio filled their ears when they both realized the earbuds left the headphone jack after the fall. He scoffed. “How ironic, those heroes aren’t even here to save you.”

But then the sounds of one of the news reporters panicking about how the other person just disappeared brought the woman out of her daze. But the sound of the gun clattering to the floor caused her to scrunch up her face in confusion. Her attention was brought back to where the man once stood but she could only see ashes. Slowly standing up, unsure of what was going on, she reached for her phone. She looked down at her phone, putting the earbuds back into the headphone jack when she walked back out into the city sidewalk.

“Watch out!” She looked up only to see a bus with no driver coming towards her.

***

The ocean waves crashed onto the sandy beach. Screams of joy came out of a small teenager as she ran away from the waves alongside her friends. A scrawny boy in glasses put his arms down to the side, laughing. The pictures he was able to take for his friends ended up being meme-able, especially when they ran away from the waves.

“Don’t get wet, Violet. We’re leaving soon,” the scrawny boy called out.

“I’m already wet, Avery. Wink wonk,” Violet replied, tossing her head back in laughter.

Avery gagged in response, “Gross, tell that to literally anyone else.”

“Yeah, but Serina doesn’t like it when I flirt with her.” Violet looked over at her friend with her eyes squinting in accusation, but the girl was just busy talking to the other dark-skinned girls. “But never stops to flirt with Sam over there, or even kissing Kiara that one time. One day, Avery, one day.”

Avery could only laugh at his friend before heading towards the other males of the group, who sat in the sand. Even though he fit in more with the girls, he still wanted to take pictures with them. To put the memories in concrete; to solidify it. Avery put his hand on the one male without glasses and started to tug on him.

“Come on Tom, you need to take pictures with your girlfriend,” Avery urged. Then he promptly called over Sam a few times who jumped and looked over at the two. Her beaming smile and wavy hair caused Tom to smile back, the feeling of bubbles, like her personality, rising in his chest. Then Avery walked in front of the other two males.

“Elijah!”

The oldest of the group shook his head as if he was taken out of his thoughts “Huh?! What? What’s up?” Elijah made eye contact with Avery who only gestured towards the rest of their friends. “Oh, right, come on Harry let’s go.” Elijah set his hand on the boy’s shoulder next to him and the two promptly got up to join the rest of the group.

The shared moments between the new high school graduates was a highlight for all of them. It’d be one of their last few moments before college hit. They all knew it, and the painful thought that they’d all slowly stop being friends was etched in the back of all of their heads. But that didn’t stop them from laughing, from having fun. Especially as teenagers. Occasionally getting in trouble, getting caught up in teenage drama and angst. They couldn’t do much besides live. With all the near catastrophic events happening in almost the last decade, the teenagers made sure they could live to the best that life let them.

The last sliver of the sun began to fade into the water. The teenagers stood at the edge of the pier watching it after a few games and eating a small dinner watching the sun say its goodbyes. They were cracking jokes with one another as the ocean waves hit the legs of the pier. Once the sun disappeared and all they could see was hues of bits of yellow, orange, pink, purple, and then the night sky, they took that as a cue to head off for home.

Violet shot towards one of their two cars they drove in to get to the beach, quickly calling shotgun. Harry, Elijah, and Kiara followed behind as they entered the car. Harry being the designated driver. Next to them, they could see Avery asking Serina to drive for a bit since he was tired. It was evident that Serina’s voice was coming out rushed and high-pitched but she quickly gave in. Avery smiled, thanked her, then danced over towards the passenger seat.

Serina waited for Harry to back out first then continued to follow him from behind. Avery popped in Kpop into the stereo and Tom argued against it, claiming it’d get stuck in his head for the rest of the night. But Serina was too focused on the road to deal with them arguing for what kind of music to be played (with the few innuendos Sam kept making).

“Sam, stop!” Serina shouted jokingly. But instead of being greeted by Sam making another one of her sexual remarks, she just heard Tom freaking out.

“Tom?” Avery turned around to see what was going on. “What’s wr-…” And stillness filled the car. Serina glanced to the side and in the rearview window and her eyes widened at the fact that her friends disappeared. She wanted to freak out, she wanted to scream and figure out what was going on but her other friend’s car in front of her veered off to the side and crashed into a light pole, hard. Serina shoved her foot on the breaks and quickly looked at her side mirror to see if she could get out of the car to check on her other friends. She was lucky, it seemed as if there were no other cars on the road.

The fear that her other friends might’ve disappeared, or could be dead from the crash was all that raced in her mind as one foot went in front of the other towards the car. The windows were tinted black and she knew it’d most likely be locked but her hand reached towards the handle and it opened. But there was no one in the driver’s seat and no one in the back seats. Just Violet, with her head against the cracked window, eyes shut, and blood dripping down her head and forearms from the windshield breaking into the car.

“Holy fuck,” Serina whispered out.

***

Xandar was desolate and bleak. The planet was in mourning and the events that occurred weeks earlier would be forever etched into the history of the Xandarians. The Nova Corps that was settled on the planet was practically purged from the works of Thanos. Cries of loved ones still searching for their lost ones never stopped. There were few good stories that were told, loved ones appear out of nowhere and some even surviving the damage done on the planet.

Irani Rael sat on the top floor of the ruins of the Nova Corps headquarters. Her eyes held emptiness as she watched the planet before her still burning. She should be thankful that she was alive. But she wasn’t. God she wished she was dead. She wished she died with the other half of the Xandarians if it meant another civilian would be alive. But that’s what Thanos left her with. That was her curse to hold, to be the one alive and to be the ones to watch her people struggle.

There was nothing to be done, no one knew what to do. How were the Xandarians supposed to get back up after the destructive force of Thanos swept through them?

Few of them ran through the ruined planet, handing out supplies and spreading the word of shelters. Others kept smiles plastered on their face, to keep the optimism they sorely needed.

Rael knew of the stories. But she was never able to leave the ruins. Even when a few Xandarians tried to convince her to join them. She just wanted to rest, take a few moments; all the moments.

In the distance, a toppled building exploded, catching the blue eyes of Rael. Her brow furrowed and she slowly rose out of the seat. Her clothes were battered. Not like she could change into anything, this part of Xandar was destroyed after the fierce battle against Thanos and his Black Order. She could only wonder what the rest of the planet looked like.

She eyed specks of people rushing over towards the building. Most likely wanting to help those who may have been hurt. A small smile grew on her face, it was in moments like these that made her proud to be Xandarian. It was home to thousands of different species. And Xandar had been that type of planet for eons so it never mattered what one was born as. It was through those differences that united them and to see them still united as one to help others, it was a sight to behold.

A female dug through a pile of concrete even though the fire raged on. But her species allowed her to withstand thousand degree heat. So she worked through it as she found bodies, dead and alive, and handed them carefully to other helpers. Slowly, the fire began to die down and it wasn’t until hours later that they saw that the fire was gone and they rescued those who needed rescuing.

The female sat on the side of a destroyed road drinking out of a bottle, recovering from the work effort done.

It was calm, they all shared food, blankets, whatever they could.

“You know, the rest of Xandar could be in total and utter chaos,” a Krylorian said, his pink skin glowing as the fire in front of them kept them warm.

“Probably, but I’m glad I’m in this area,” a Xandarian native replied chugging another bottle of what was alcohol.

Another looked at her in disbelief, “You kidding me? After the shit Thanos did to all of us. No way, if I was in another area I’d try to help them out to bring order.”

The Xandarian shrugged, “We’re still lucky. Alive and well.” But they all took a moment and looked at their surroundings.

“At what cost?” Another asked. They stayed quiet for a few more moments, the night brought them a sort of chill.

“I just hope that the Guardians are able to stop Thanos,” a Centaurian spoke up. The others eyed the one who just talked wearily. It’s not that they were against what he suggested. Just that they wished the Guardians was there to save them in the first place. But they weren’t. And what could the small group do against him and his army? The Black Order would be able to stop them in one go.

No one else spoke, no one wanted to. The silence was comfortable. The heat radiating from the fire comforted them. The presence of those around them comforted them.

But the silence was broken by a gasp and someone wondering what was happening. The fire began to be covered up by the ashes. They all looked at one another, appalled at the sight before them. The gasps and the dreadful voices asking for help was all that was heard throughout Xandar. Each one of them scrambling for one another only to hold ashes in their hands.  

The heat-resistant female clambered over towards what was left of the group, her mouth parted in distress.

No one else spoke, no one wanted to. The silence was no longer comfortable. The fire no longer radiated heat, it was buried in the ashes. The presence of those around them was no longer there. So what was the point?

***

The universe was quiet. The very moments after the unforgiving snap was eerily tranquil. As if the moment of silence was being taken earlier for the silent screams of those taken by the snap. The silent screams was only greeted by the mute horror of a now smaller universe. A universe that was in pain. Shockwaves of the snap would﹣will﹣continue for years to come. Lives lost after the snap from those in the middle of surg­ery, driving a car or ship, or even those who take their own life from the heartbreak of losing loved ones.

Yes, the universe was suffering. Resources would continue to be used up, but to what extent does this help? Without suffering, one cannot know what is good. One can create a world without war, without alcohol or drugs, without hate or jealousy, but then it wouldn’t be the world one lived in. Nothing would be learned, nothing would be gained. Species would have no motivation to advance, only to devolve. [1]

And so the universe only suffered more.

Then, there was you. [2]

a/n: READ #2 TRUST ME. This isn’t the normal fanfic (looool) with the Marvel Characters (ish) or even an OC/Reader insert. Kinda had an idea of what it’d be like to write about normal people of Earth. Then this came to mind. Also included a story on Xander and exploring the theory on whether or not the snap halves populations that’s already been halved by Thanos himself, which includes a small tidbit of what I think could have happened with Valkyrie and Korg!

[1] - This was a reference to the comics Avengers (2010) #12 when Tony wielded the gauntlet. It’s definitely something that’s been around on Tumblr but if you haven’t seen it you can find the comics online!

[2] - Way back when I posted this 2 years ago? i put out the suggestion to let people request if they wanted me to write their own oc into something like this or you or just something. i’m not doing that anymore. though i dont think anyone would want it since no one wanted one before LOL

[yeehawyoongles]

Vine Drabble 5- Behave

Request:  May I request some fluff Taehyung x Reader with 6, 22, 50, please? 💕 Thank you very muccch 🤧

6- “Go back to sleep, and starve.”

22. “Bro I had a dream we fucked.”

50. “But you didn’t!”

Word count: 2.2k

-Let’s get this breaddddd- this is kinda cute though

-MASTERLIST-VINE PROMPTS AND REQUEST RULES-

You check your clock- it’s getting quite late, it’s almost 1am.  Yet, you were still sat at your desk, finishing your school work- last minute, as always.  You were winging your way through a history paper, rephrasing the words that your textbook threw at you, and chucking in a couple of phrases you’d picked up on in class, that you just knew came from some crappy documentary that your teacher had watched an hour before your class started, in fact, once they quoted a documentary you’d watched once when you couldn’t sleep.  The house is quiet, except for the mechanic sound of your fingers bashing into your keyboard as you enter your 30th ‘furthermore’.  You hear the front door close softly, who had gone out earlier to go out with his friends.  Knowing him, he was probably busting a lung at karaoke or something; you trust him not to do anything stupid.  As you’re typing away, you notice him mumbling- Is he talking to himself, or has he brought someone home?

He quietly comes up the stairs, and you’re sure that you can hear another set of footsteps approaching too, a lot more hefty than your brother’s.  You watch the door as the handle slowly sinks down, as to not wake anyone up but to also ask you if he can come in, which you tell him to, softly.  However, he doesn’t do that, and just peeks his head through the door.

“Hi,” He whispers, giving you a small smile. “You’re still working?” 

“Yup,” Your lips pop on the final consonant. “Last minute history paper that I completely forgot about, but I’m almost done, I guess.  You good? You know, Yoongi, you can come in, this is your room too, annoyingly.”

“Well, you find the money to get us a bigger house smartass,” Yoongi retorts.  He’s still standing with his head poking through the door, awkwardly.  “Anyways, I have a... situation.  I offered one of my friends a place to stay, he lives further out of town, and the buses stopped running to where he lives.  Do you mind if he sleeps in here? I’ll take the couch, we might stay up in here for a bit seeing that you’ve still got to finish your essay, we’ll be quiet.” He shuffles awkwardly behind the door, like he needs to pee.”

“That’s fine, I mean, I don’t mind sleeping downstairs either, I actually fit on the sofa, too,” You offer, yawning. “Honestly I might just fall asleep on this desk at this point.”

Yoongi chuckles. “No no, don’t worry about doing that, I’m asking for a big enough favour as it is.  Thank you so much.  You’re the best, I really mean it.”   He opens the door wider so that he can come in. the compliments he gave you seems... out of character to you, as if he’s hiding something.  However, the catch of this favour doesn’t take you too long to figure out.

A figure follows him through the door, and it takes you a moment to process who it was. “Woah woah woah, what the fuck Yoongi?” You whisper loudly, staring at him with wide, angry eyes. “Why does this have to be the friend that you bring home?” 

“Shh,” Your brother approaches you, giving his friend an apologetic look. “Show some empathy for once, okay? Would you want me to walk all the way out to the countryside late at night, especially when the weather is cold like it is now?? Push whatever issues you have against Taehyung aside, I don’t know what he did to upset you but I can assure you that he’s a good enough guy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You snap, your eyes still angry.

“Well, I thought about telling you but-”

“But you didn’t!” You almost yell. “Look, I know I can hold a grudge but I’m not evil enough to not let him stay here, I get it, it’s fine.” You say, your voice more quiet.

“You, uh, might want to tell that to your face.” Taehyung intercepts for the first time tonight, taking a slight step forwards and gesturing towards the mirror on your desk.  You take a look in it, only to find your mouth shaped in a frown and your eyebrows furrowed.  Thus, you forcefully relax your face and try to smile, turning around to Taehyung.

“Sorry, no one should have to go walking around this late, make yourself comfortable.” Your smile becomes more false as you speak, your eyes growing wide.

“Uh... Thank you so much, hahah.” Taehyung gives you a wide, boxy smile, which is admittedly cute, but you refuse to give in, settling on rolling your eyes so hard that your whole body rotates and sits back in your desk chair.

“Do whatever you guys do, I have work to finish.”

The two boys go into the bathroom to brush their teeth and change.

“So how’d you piss off my sister?” Yoongi asks before he put his toothbrush in his mouth.

“Hm,” Taehyung thinks back to pinpoint the cause as he takes his tshirt off, swifty replacing it with a borrowed pyjama top from Yoongi. “I think... I think this dates back to the first time I came round here,” Yoongi nods, encouraging Taehyung to continue with the story. “I went into the kitchen so that I could get a glass of water, and treated myself to some ice, too.  While I  was getting ice out of the freezer, your sister walked in... But I didn’t hear her, and, in my defence, was unaware that you even had a sister, so I turned around to find this girl that I’d never seen standing behind me getting something from the cupboard, and I uh.. freaked out,” Taehyung waves his hands up in the air above him. “I spilt my ice cold water and it went all over her.  Then, rightfully, she shouted at me and got super upset.”

“That was very detailed,” Yoongi mumbles under the foamy toothpaste filling his mouth, spitting it out moments later. “But I remember the yelling, and you seeming a little sad. I think something happened to her at school that day, or she was PMS, who knows... she’s just- ‘unique’,” He gestures speech marks with his fingers, talking quietly. “Also, she likes to hold a grudge.  She’s still pissed about some toy of hers I broke when I was 10.  Only thing you can really do is apologise.”

“I’ve tried to apologise on a couple of ocasions since, but she just glares at me and flips me off,” The younger boy shrugs his shoulders, a frown forming on his face.  After all, he really just wants to get along with you, knowing that you’re such a big part of your brother’s life.  Also, he thinks you’re kinda cute but you don’t know that, and Yoongi definitely doesn’t know it.

“I don’t know man, I mean we’re talking about the girl who punched her crush in the stomach when she was six,” Yoongi chuckles at the mystery that is you. “Who knows what goes on in her mind.  Wouldn’t be surprised if she likes you too.” Taehyung’s face lights up a tad, but not so much to give anything away to your brother.

After you sprinkle in a few more ‘therefores’ and type up a quick conclusion, you shut your computer down and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction and fatigue.  You swivel your chair around to face the two boys, who smell of mint toothpaste.

“Right,” You stand up, placing your hands on the tops of your legs. “I’m done.  We can all get a couple hours of sleep in before we have to get up and go to school, and, whatever you guys do.”

“Okay,” Yoongi mumbles. “Taehyung, sleep in my bed, you’re our guest.  And you,” He turns to point an accusatory index finger towards you. “Behave.  I want my friend to leave this place in the same state that he was in when he came in, okay?”  You nod firmly in response, maintaining eye contact with him through your glare. Yoongi approaches you and gives you a gentle hug.  “Night.” He greets the two of you as he exits the room, his slumber awaiting him.

“Unfair!” Taehyung whines. “Why don’t I get a hug??” A playful frown appears on his face.

You scoff in response.  “Really? That’s what’s so unfair about this whole situation? Because I would say it’s the fact that us two have to share a room!” You try and keep your voice quiet so that your brother doesn’t hear your complaints.

“Hey! I’ve told you before, I’m sorry!” The playful frown on Taehyung’s face is now a lot more serious, you can feel his frustration.  However, you are painfully stubborn and you’ve made a habbit out of holding grudges, no matter how strong your feelings were for a person.

You take a deep breath. “Just go to sleep, Tae.”

Taehyung looks defeated as he turns around and walks to Yoongi’s bed, but before he gets in, his body pauses.

“What did you just call me?” He asks, a big smirk across his face. You pause too, with one leg inside of your bed, the realisation hitting you that you had just used his pet name.

“Shut up.  Go to bed.” You say as you lay yourself in bed comfortably, Taehyung doing the same moments later, before dozing off to sleep.

Well, at least you did.

Taehyung didn’t understand how you were sleeping so soundly, the bed was so so, so,uncomfortable. No matter if he slept on his side, on his back, hugging a pillow, he just couldn’t get to sleep.

Your sleep too sounds... disturbed.  Taehyung turns to face you, finding a sheet of sweat covering your skin as you thrash around, your mouth slightly agape as soft whimpers escape it.  As Taehyung tries to figure your flustered state out, you turn to face away from him, whining.

Taehyung is now worried about what your dreaming about.  It was either super good, or super bad.  Even if the former was true, he wasn’t prepared to listen to your fantasies about getting fucked by... Whoever, otherwise it could be problematic for him.  And he was not prepared to get himself off in his best friend’s bed, beause he was listening to his sister.  The only option, he at least thinks, was to wake you up.

As he get’s up from Yoongi’s bed and starts to approach you, he hears you say something that he really wasn’t expecting; “T-Taehyung!” That stops him right in his tracks.  He double checks and sees that you’re definitely still asleep. Could it be...? No, it’s probably a nightmare.  He perseveres and carries on walking towards you, crouching down to gently shake your shoulder.

“Hey, wake up..” He whispers, gently.  When you feel his cold hand touching your bare arm, you are swiftly dragged back into consciousness.

You yell at the cool touch, and then at how close Taehyung’s face was to yours, given the dream you just had.

“Do you, do you really hate me that much?” He asks, with the same sullen expression he fell asleep with.

“What?” You respond, your voice croaky and your head still dizzy with sleep and confused emotions.

“You said my name in your sleep, it was a nightmare right?” Your eyes widen as you begin to remember the details of your dream, how he looked at you then, and how he touched you... “You looked as if you were in pain, has your hatred for me been drilled into your unconscious?”

See, if you were fully awake and understood what the hell was going on, then you would just say yes.  You really did hate him that much.   Your groggy, sleepy brain, on the other hand, knew no better.

“No, bro, I had a dream we fucked” You state, matter-of-factly.  Taehyung’s eyes were growing just as wide as yours, as realisation hit him, as it did you, and you regret your blunt confession as  your brain wakes up.

“You- what?” Taehyung looks you straight in the eye, trying to hide his excitement.

“I did not just say that out loud...” You sigh, laying back, and put your pillow over your head.  Taehyung takes the pillow froom you and leans into you. 

“Do you, by any chance, like me? Hm?” He could no longer hide his huge, boxy smile as he speaks, still keeping eye contact with you, until you break it off.

“Ugh,” you groan.” “Please, just go back to sleep and starve. I don’t want to talk about it.” You roll onto your side so that you’re facing away from him again.

“Fine, but I’m taking that as a yes,” Taehyung giggled, and your heart melted a little at the sound. “Good night, sweet dreams.” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around so that you were on your back again, giving you a soft, quick kiss on the lips before getting up and making his way to Yoongi’s bed.  You can feel your face turning crimson at the spontaneous act, grateful that the room was dark.  Slowly, for the first time in a while, a smile makes its way to your face, unknowingly matching the expression of the boy lying on the other side of the room.

[erasmusinaber]

Local Aber Guide by ESN

A következő kisokost az ESN society egyik tagja írta össze nekünk, aki már 4 éve itt tanul, így nagyon jól ismeri a várost. Ezt szoktam én is böngészni,amikor új helyszíneket  szeretnék felfedezni:

“Cafes.

- Agnellis

For anyone fancying an authentic taste of Italy this place is just a little hidden away around the corner from Starbucks but is run by a local Italian family for reasonable prices.

- Ultracomida

Great for its Spanish food, delicatessen and fresh orange juice it makes a particularly great place to visit as a larger group. Just up the street from the pier.

- The Carlton

Much more British on the spectrum and a staple of Aberystwyth, head here for a great pie or some fresh Welsh cakes and coffee. Hidden above retail shops on the main main street opposite Cafe Nero.

- Sophie's

Very local and popular but more American in food choice, makes for a great breakfast choice.

- Caesars Cafe

About as good as it gets for an English breakfast, simple but effective for a Sunday breakfast after a heavy weekend, if that's your style.

- Treehouse

A favourite for those more environmentally and organically conscious. Simple but tasty food and a brilliant locally sourced delicatessen to match. Just off the high street next to Alfred's Place Church.

- PD's Diner

Unmissable on the promenade but you have to be lucky with the weather, on a nice day half the town will be there for fish and chips with a cider.

Restaurants.

- Little Italy

Perhaps less authentic but one of the most established places in the town and where every couple young and old will head for Valentine's day. Great food, a little expensive in other words. Right on the high street but more towards the University side.

- Pysgoty

Again on the expensive side but famous for its fish the country over with an intimate and pretty environment, great for a special occasion such as visiting family. On the marina above the sailing club.

- Fusion King

Very popular for students due to its value for money and about the best Aber will offer as Asian food goes, doesn't replace a good ramen for me but good food in it's own right. Just off the highstreet around the corner from ultracomida. (If you are craving more Japanese then Swshi is a new company doing sushi deliveries in the area, you can find them on Facebook).

- Baravin

Awesome setting on the seafront, a blend of Welsh food in a French style, offers a range of usually solid choices though expensive

.- Upstairs at the PierClue is in the name for location.

Pier are one of our sponsors so your attendance really helps us once we get the member cards up and running. Great food, great views and the price is reasonable.

- Backyard Barbecue

Hidden away just off the highstreet next to Treehouse but a hidden gem. I can't think of where you'd find another authentic American smoker in Wales and the price isn't bad at all. Try the ribs.

- Le Figaro

Opposite the train station and another stable of Aber with a regularly changing menu bit again maybe a little expensive for a student budget.

- Medina

Excellent more middle eastern style food that makes a healthy choice but has a lot more going for it than that, highly enjoyable atmosphere.

Places to drink

- Rummers

Aber famously has the most pubs per capita in Europe and this is one of its kings. Decent price, great beer, great pub quiz every week and live music on weekends, good eating option and cocktail bar upstairs. About everything you want from a pub. Nestled by the bridge that leads to the marina.

- Harry's

The undisputed champion of sports bars in Aber which is where you'll want to be heading for the upcoming rugby world cup if you know what's happening or not, the atmosphere will be crazy. Right opposite Little Italy.

- Scholar's

Not uncommon to find the occasional lecturer dotted around here, a great place for an affordable Sunday roast dinner while watching football. Just around the corner from Harry's.

- The Cambrian

Very student centred pub, the cocktails are like none you'll find anywhere else and very effective

- The Libertine

Best cocktails in Aber and prices reflecting that but if you want to be served an excellent daquiri then head here.

- Ship and Castle

Quintessentially British which is a good thing as pubs go and a good selection of beer and ale, again a bit expensive.

- Weatherspoons

A chain pub but again a classic of Britain and nicely located in the train station, extremely cheap, you'll probably end up there in freshers week as will everyone.

- The Glengower

Longstanding member of Aber society and regularly makes the lists of best pubs in Wales. Top draft selection, some great annual events and traditions, the terrace is always full on a nice day

- Academy

On that bridging point between a pub and a club, atmosphere can vary and it can be a bit on the pricier side but forever a cool venue as a converted church.

- Bar 46

Again on that 'plub' level, 2 for 1 cocktails always tempting and they can do well with their events, personally I love to go just for a pint while I hang out with the owners Labrador.

- Harleys

Last of the plubs, good place to warm up your dance moves before hitting the clubs, very popular with the fresher faced students.

- Downies

...psychological studies could be written about this place, shamelessly cheap and can have one of the strongest atmospheres but I don't think it's changed since the early 80's, I'll be nice and say 'rough around the edges' but for those who can get past that it can have a strange charm

- Why Not

One of the main nightclubs though still often referred to as 'Yokos'. it's going through changes at the moment so I guess you'll be as much of a judge on how it'll be as I will this year.

- Pier Pressure

The other main club and with a late hours pub downstairs, very quaint and with good DJ sets recently as a small town goes so fingers crossed that continues. Pros are more space, cons are no drinks on the dance floor.

Places to visit

- Constitution Hill

Its like a requirement to walk up it at least once though taking the old funicular railway is cool too, nice views of the town, good little cafe on top. Worth a visit once or twice.

- Borth Zoo

Not about to blow your mind and it's going through massive overhauls but if you want to see animals then hop on a train and you'll be there in 10 minutes.

- The Rheidol Railway to Devil's Bridge

The train is a bit pricey but it's very much worth doing to go and see the ancient bridges that have some very nice places to eat and relax around them. You'll be able to see eagles swoop through the trees as you ride the old steam train up the valley.

- Llanerchaeron

An old manor house and farm designed by the same guy who designed Buckingham palace. You can get the T1 service bus down there and walk back to Aberaeron which is itself a lovely town before you catch the bus back again.

- Ynyslas Beach

A train ride and then a bit of a trek but if you want a nice beach nearby then this is your choice, follow the estuary up for some great views too.

- The Pier

Nice and close, the arcade can always be fun and the pool hall sinks a lot of hours on rainy days for those interested in billiards.

- The National Library

Genuinely a really cool building with millions of books, some very interesting like ancient copies of the Magna Carta and the Mabinogion for those interested in British and Welsh culture. If you have any Welsh ancestry then this is the place to check records too.

- The Pwllheli Line

This would be a mental test in dealing with Welsh infrastructure but catching the train to Dovey Junction and then changing onto the northern line takes you to some interesting places. Barmouth for its beautiful town and estuary, Harlech for its famous castle, and Porthmadog/Portmeirion for its postcard perfect houses. Far more than that on the way too if you like a good hike or a camping trip.

- Cardiff

Great city for a weekend visit and now free weekend buses that go nicely if you have one of our membership cards for discounts on hostels. Highlights are Cardiff Castle, the Millennium Centre, Cardiff Bay, the wild selection of shopping choice and the massive variety of annual events. Most of the centre is all within walking distance which makes things very easy for visitors.

- Pembrokeshire

Can be difficult to access due to little infrastructure but absolutely worth the effort. Stunning natural beauty in places like Mwnt, Barafundle, Fishguard, Pembroke Castle, Angle, Tenby and more. If you like hikes then Wales is the only country with a complete coastal path and this is the place to make use of that.”

[megalony]

Love and affection- Part 4

Another part of my new roger x reader x ben series.

@rogertaylorsbitontheside

Enjoy.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 5  Part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grabbing the sunglasses that rested on the table in front of him Roger set them on his nose effectively blocking his eyes from his friend's scrutinising gazes so they wouldn't be able to see the tears glistening around his blue orbs. Head turning and resting against the window on his right as he placed his phone down on the table with an air of gentleness about his action though his emotions were anything but. Seeing that Roger wasn't in the mood for continuing their game of scrabble John leaned over, if with an air of precaution before slowly sliding the letters Roger had over to his side so he could continue the game with Freddie. Brian had decided he would take a nap after the last round of scrabble they played. They were currently on one of their tour buses, although it wasn't a very long tour they were doing since they had some time before their new album was about to release they had decided to book a few concerts in the states again. Just for a month to get some practice in before their next big tour when the album was released and hit the charts. Scrabble was an annual thing to happen, it was the main game that passed the time for them all and needless to say Freddie and Roger were champions at the game.

Brian, however, was good at getting longer and more sophisticated words and during their last game the guitarist had created such a long word that landed over a triple letter space and two double letters he had beaten everyone by far. Gaining over one hundred points with that single word, and in his haste and anger, Roger had flipped the board. The drummer only calming down and agreeing to play again once Brian stated he wouldn't play. Roger couldn't help but get petty when it came to things like this, scrabble was the thing he was good at other than his music and he loved playing but when Brian just came along and completely thrashed him like that he couldn't stay calm. No way was he playing another game with Brian if he was going to do that trick again, at least not today anyway and so the guitarist dropped out, the game wasn't as important or as fun to him as it was the others anyway. But right now Roger couldn't continue to play without bursting into fits of tears. They had been on the road for a few hours now and he had been away from home for little over a month meaning the long stretch of the tour was over, just another two and a half weeks and he would be home. Right when his emotions seemed to sink (Y/N) had sent a text to ask if it was alright to ring him soon and Roger crumbled. He missed both his partners so much and he wasn't used to being without them. They were usually always able to come out to tour with him or at least come for the second half if not and he loved when they tagged along. Both John and Brian's wives had their children to stay behind and look after but Roger Ben and (Y/N) didn't have that kind of commitment meaning it was easier for Roger's partners to come with them. This time however was different. It was too much of a risk for Ben to take the eleven hour flight back to LA to then go straight on the road to get to the first hotel of many. It would be unwise when he wasn't yet use to the new medication, and he would have to go to the doctors to be perscribed inhibitors or beta-blockers to keep his heart going and under control. They would take time to get use to and they weren't simply ones he could take on the flight and then be done with them. To make Ben start out a new course of treatment to then have to get use to them and stop after two months wasn't kind nor was it such a good idea. To go without medication for his heart was too risky as well with the turbulence they were sure to encounter. What made Roger feel worse was that he was currently missing Ben's hospital appointment and so far he had been to all of them with (Y/N), both of them there for moral support and to help calm him down. Now he wasn't. Hearing the sudden blaring tune of radio ga ga Roger looked down through the tinted glasses, seeing (Y/N)'s ID lighting up the screen making his heart jump. Picking up the phone Roger gently nudged John with his arm to let him out of the seat, shuffling out before heading down to the back of the bus to be out of earshot of the others. This was the phone call he had been waiting for all morning, to find out what the doctor had said about Ben. The last doctor's appointment told them that Ben didn't seem to have the complication of not being able to swallow, the technical term was dysphagia and they were fairly certain he didn't have this. Being told they would check on his next appointment too just to make sure it wasn't developing and they were also checking his heart today with an ECG which would take a few hours. Meaning they were sitting in a room doing nothing but waiting much like Roger was doing now. Curling her legs underneath her on the sofa (Y/N) smiled to herself when Roger's voice flooded her ear making a feeling of calmness and relief surge through her veins. Thankful to finally hear his voice after just over two days with simply text messages due to how busy they both were. "How'd it go today?" Roger asked, pushing the glasses up just above his nose so he could rub at his tired eyes that were close to allowing the tears to fall at hearing her voice. "The ECG took about four hours all in all, they can normally take twenty four hours but since he had no pains or problems before hand they cut it down thankfully. His heart slowed about twice but nothing troubling, he doesn't need any new meds." Four hours seemed nothing compared to twenty four hours. That was the typical time if they were monitoring someone's heart when there had been problems but they needed to do a routine check just to make sure the medication he was currently on wasn't causing any problems or that nothing else had happened. Thankful there was no damage, and the little slows in tempo weren't serious as Ben didn't even feel anything. It had still been hard to sit for four hours and simply watch Ben or read a magazine to pass the time though. "What about his throat?" (Y/N) wasn't sure if Roger meant his swallowing or the muscles that had been playing up a little since his choking incident and so decided to talk about both just to be sure. "They don't think he has it but he still isn't certain. His muscle in his neck might be the next one weaken, he's not doing so well right now." Ripping the glasses from his nose Roger launched them with little effort into the chair in front of him. Tipping his head back against the seat as the tears broke the damn and started trickling down his face. He needed to be there, he needed to be home to comfort his boyfriend and girlfriend who were clearly hurt. "Can you put him on?" Roger pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to stop it from quivering as a sob was welling up in his throat that he couldn't seem to swallow. "I'll see if he's still awake or not." Releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding in Roger felt his face fall as he drifted his eyes down to his watch. His mind quickly working out what time it was back home since there was a time difference, home being a few hours ahead of what it was where he was right now. Working out the time Roger frowned, why was Ben sleeping when it was only just six in the evening back home? The medication he was on was helping the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness and the long hours he slept for. "It's six in the bloody evening." Roger muttered into the phone, hands rubbing at the tears drenching his face but it did nothing as more simply fell to replace the smudged ones. "We got in ten minutes ago and he just went to bed. They put us in a room for the ECG and they got it ready, within half an hour he fell asleep in the bed they had to wake him to say it was done. He was at work all day yesterday it must have taken a lot out of him he's done nothing but sleep for about three weeks and then gone right back to long hours all day." The medication was still taking time to control the tiredness that Ben had been feeling for weeks on end. After their trip to LA Ben had gone back to work and that meant long hours through the day or maybe sometimes even into the night. To go from sleeping all day for the two weeks they wer in LA and even before then to have to be awake for most of the day took  everything out of the actor. When told to lay on a comfy bed in the hospital for four hours Ben couldn't help but fall asleep, his body overwhelmed from the schedule he'd had for the movie he was nearly finished up with. He could only just manage to stay awake long enough to listen to the results and then get to the car. As soon as they came home he headed to their shared bedroom and stripped down to go to sleep. Sitting on her side of the bed (Y/N) gently ran her free hand through Ben's hair, ruffling it slightly as he turned his head to look up at her through hooded eyes. Close to sleep but not quite there yet. His body was screaming for sleep but he couldn't seem to manage it due to the nap he'd has during the ECG, it was beginning to feel like he had too much sleep yet still craved more. Handing him the phone (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before leaving the room. "Hey babe, how's it going?" Ben questioned, not being able to stop a yawn passing through his lips as he turned around slightly. Laying in the middle of the bed with his head resting on the covers on his left side as not to aggrivate the right side of his jaw. It hadn't been too bad all things considered and he didn't want to push his luck and add too much pressure to it right now. "We're on the road at the minute, should be arriving in an hour or so. Brian has been officially disqualified from scrabble." A smile appeared on Ben's face, the longing to be on tour weakening slightly at the sound of Roger's voice. It had hurt them all to know that they couldn't go on tour together and it had crushed Ben to know that he was the reason they couldn't go. He was the reason Roger was on his own on the tour and they were all seperated. "Did he beat you in a game?" Ben guessed, earning a huff in response and a mumble that he couldn't quite work out showing him that he was right in his assumptions. "You feeling alright, you don't sound too good." "Bit sick, I think I slept too much again." The downsides to getting too much sleep meant that there was less hours in the day to eat and more hours Ben spent going without food. Sometimes he thought he'd just have a nap, just to close his eyes that were burning from being awake for a few hours, and when he'd wake it would be hours later instead of a few minutes. This made him feel sick for skipping meals without meaning to, knowing right now he should go and get something to eat but being burrowed into the covers was too comfy to leave. "I'd say get some sleep but I think you need food instead babe, go get something to eat and I'll talk to you both later." It was clear in his tone that Roger didn't want to end the conversation there but he also didn't want to continue talking to Ben if he was feeling ill and the longer he was on the phone the worse it was going to make him feel. Staying in bed like he clearly was would only make him more tired and less likely to get something to eat. "But I... I miss you." They had only just started talking, though the feeling of sleep was taking over his system Ben was feeling more awake and wanted to stay on the phone for hours. He didn't want to hang up and dwell on the emtpy feeling floating around the apartment that just wasn't the same without the drummer walking about throwing the odd curse word as he went. There was no sound of singing floating through the air as he wandered through each room in the apartment or the sound of his drums clashing from the music room. He wasn't yelling at them both to speak up when he was somewhere else in the apartment because he couldn't work out what was being said. "I miss you both so fucking much it hurts but you need to eat something. It's what, six there right now? We'll arrive at the new venue in an hour, so I'll call at about... ten when we've got everything set up and talk to you both for a bit then. Think you can stay awake 'til then?" Tears continued to silently flood Roger's face as he took to lying on his back over the seats, knees bent up as he rested a hand over his eyes trying to calm down enough to speak clearly. He hated this, to be away from the two people he loved most and having to play concerts he knew they weren't listening to or in the crowd watching. Roger found that he was able to play that little bit better when his partners were watching and cheering him on. "I'll be awake." Ben responded almost immediately, eagerness in his tone at the thought of talking to Roger again, knowing that would put his mind at ease and allow him to sleep better. "I'm headin' for something to eat now, I love you." Managing to muster the energy needed to push himself up from the comfort of the nest he had made in the covers Ben rubbed his free hand to his neck, knowing it was time he got an ice pack. "I love you too, so much."

[howtohero]

#211 Breaking Up

They say that break up is hard to do, but they weren’t dealing with superpowered drama queens so they don’t even know. When you want to break up with the people you’re fighting crime with, things are going to get very sticky very fast. Whether it be calling it quits on your partner, dropping your sidekick or disbanding your entire team, we’re going to try our best to guide you through this complicated transition as smoothly as possible. 

Calling it quits on your partner When you’ve been teaming-up and fighting crime with the same person for a while, things can get kind of rote. The banter gets stale, you both like being the handcuff guy, and you’ve discovered that that combo move that you guys do where your super strong partner picks you up and uses your metal body to bludgeon bad guys is actually very bad for your back. So, you make the decision to end the partnership. That’s fine, there’s no shame in that, people grow apart. (Edit: We feel the need to make it clear here that we are talking about emotionally growing apart. This is not a reference to Miketosis, the amazing budding man.) But now you’re left with the unenviable task of breaking this news to your partner, who could very well be four buses glued together and granted sentience by the Allsource of Allmagic. (Edit: This is also not a reference to Miketosis. This is obviously talking about Busses 4 Dayz. Come on Mike, it couldn’t have been more obvious. Stop emailing me. You’re clearly reaching here.) 

When breaking up with your partner it is important to be kind and gentle. Tell them that you don’t think any less of them as a crime fighter and that you look forward to seeing them succeed in all of their future endeavors. Assure them that this isn’t the end of your friendship, merely your partnership, and that should they ever need a helping hand in their fight against super-crime, you’ll always be there. It’s important to couch the news that you’re done with this partnership in positive terms, because if this goes badly, you might be creating a whole new nemesis for yourself. As we’ve said dozens of times, superpowered people are generally just one bad day, or even one bad moment, away from going full blown supervillain. (Edit: Miketosis, come on, how could this be a reference to you? That doesn’t even make sense. You haven’t been spurned by someone you thought of as a friend and turned into a full blown disease-weaponizing, grenade-catapulting supervillain. Wait a minute... are you saying this is your supervillain moment?) If you slip up and tell them that the reason you’re breaking up is because you hate the way they yodel whenever they see a crime take place, I guarantee you that the next morning you’re going to find them astride a giant hellhorse (think hellhound but bigger and with a taste for sugar cubes) and strumming a guitar (that they pronounce “gee-tar”) and announcing to the world that they have decided to start committing crimes. So be careful. Let them down easy. 

Dropping your sidekick Maybe you read our many rants about the dangers of having a child sidekick. (Reason #29 why having a child sidekick is a bad idea: They can easily be turned against you if your enemies just have better snacks.) Maybe you came to that conclusion all on your own. Maybe you somehow haven’t figured that out yet but you just think your child sidekick is annoying. Either way, you now have to dispose of this acrobatic ten-year-old that has grown rather fond of kicking criminals in the head alongside you. If you, for reasons known only to yourself, adopted this child at some point, then things get considerably trickier. Of course you could always just erase the child’s memories of your time together and then abandon them in an orphanage and never contact them again. That would be the simple solution. (Reason #42: You’re eventually going to convince yourself that this was a good idea and once you believe that, you’ll believe anything.) It is also the correct solution. Lobotomize and traumatize a child. Just go for it. It’s the only thing you can do. This is why you should never have a child sidekick and even if you are a fool and recruit a child soldier, you should not adopt them. Then you’re not only endangering a child, you’re endangering your own child. So don’t expect to win any parenting awards. (Reason #106: They’re going to keep posting your location on social media or live streaming your fights, which will allow other villains to find you.)

Children are notoriously temperamental. And they tend to be averse to change. So when dropping them from your team, expect to be met with some pushback. (Reason 6: That child doesn’t even know how to walk yet! What are you even thinking???) They’ll ask you why they can’t come with you any longer to fight the giant garbage monster in the Pacific Ocean like you guys used to do every week without fail. They’ll cry, they’ll beg, they might even kick you in the shin if that’s something you’ve taught them. But you must stay strong. Under no circumstance should you be bringing that child to fight the garbage monster. It’s bad enough you’ve already done it 51 times. But no more! However, you’re in an interesting position now. Because this child has been trained in hand to hand combat, and also might have superpowers. If you’re not wiping their memories and abandoning them, then that is potentially dangerous small child. So you need to keep them in your sights, just keep them out of the field. Give them a less combat-oriented roll on your team. Make them the head of your social media and youngsters-outreach program. Put them in charge of picking the phattest music for your battles. Or just agree to keep training and mentoring them until they’re old enough to fight crime for real. (Reason #1000: Uh hate to do this one again but I feel like it bears repeating but the child is a child.) 

Disbanding the team It’s very rare that a team will just disband entirely. It’s far more likely that someone will just become disgruntled, have a tantrum, throw a table through a window and then get sucked into the vacuum of space because you can’t just be smashing windows in the space base. And then all you gotta do is replace that guy and window. So when a team breaks up for real, you know something dicey went down. Maybe some new fancy law came out and everybody disagreed over whether or not it was a lawful law or an awful law. Maybe one of the team members revealed that they’d secretly been coming up with elaborate plots to murder everyone else on the team. In case of emergency of course. Maybe you all just got hit with the pretty irked plague (which is a watered-down version of Karalaxus’ rage-plague that just makes people irritable) and now you all can’t stand one another. Regardless, things have become untenable in your HQ and this team needs to be disbanded. 

If you want to fully shut down a superhero organization you need to make decisive moves. Decommission and condemn the team’s headquarters. If another team moves in, then they’ll be seen as your team’s spiritual successors and we can’t be having any of that. Crash your team’s vehicle into a swamp. (A swamp is just a watered-down version of Karalaxus’ goo-ocean of foul smells, which is what Neptune is now that Karalaxus has wreaked havoc on it.) Whether it’s a car, or a long tandem-bike or a space shuttle, that thing needs to go into a swamp pronto. Just make sure you don’t crash it into a swamp that is inhabited by a swamp witch. Because they will ruin your day at the slightest provocation and crashing a space shuttle into their home is a little bit more than the slightest provocation. We need it to be completely unusable. Trademark the team’s name and sue anybody else who tries to use it. If some other group of heroes just starts using your name then did the team really disband? Or did it just get all new members? We don’t want there to be any room for interpretation here, we want this team gone. 

Once all that silly logistical business is wrapped up, you need to fire all the members of your team. If you don’t have the power to do that, because you either didn’t read our post on leadership or messed up one of the steps, then you need to get everybody else to quit. (Our post on leadership is just a watered-down version of Karalaxus’ seminal “Proclamation of Sovereignty” in which the doom-bringer proclaimed that all life is forevermore subservient to the might of Karalaxus. It’s pretty compelling stuff and i invite all of you to give it a read.) Getting people to quite a superhero team is pretty easy. You just need to constantly show them up, rob them of their spotlight, and all around just publicly embarrass them, any chance you get. Superheroes like to save lives sure, but they also really like being recognized and praised for it. So by embarrassing them or just all around being better than them, you don’t risk them quitting superherodom entirely, you’re just going to push them into leaving your team and forming their own, without you. With any luck, this plan will just result in your team fracturing into several new superhero teams. Which is great, you’ve achieved your goal in the best way possible. Just be careful to avoid causing a superhero civil war when your team splits apart. You want things to me amicable between the former members of your team. You just don’t want them to be so friendly that they continue being a team. (Friendship is just a watered down version of Karalaxus’ concept of the circuit of souls, the never ending loop of life, which shall one day be completed, bringing about the reign of Karalaxus as was foretold by the prophecy passed down from the son to the father to the son to the father to the son and on and on and on until the day in which all shall become one.)

[daniactuallysnuffledthatpopcorn]

Kids in the Dark

Summary: Two solo artists on an American tour keep each other company during the evenings with some video games. And some more.

Rating: Teens

Word Count: 5.3K

[A/N] Written for @phandomficfests: Tour II fest. Many thanks to Kit for beta’ing this for me!!  (Also, I woke up at 4:30AM and realised I hadn’t posted this yet, so here it is. I’m exhausted.)

Backstage was bustling with tech crew and artists waiting to go on with guitars in hand. Just off the side of the main stage was Dan Howell, fiddling with a plectrum between his thumb and index finger. The band that was on was rounding up their set. Dan had been in the same place to watch them for three days in a row now, and although he didn’t know any of their music he recognised the chorus as that of their last song.

“Hey, you’re on next, aren’t you?” A hand on his shoulder made him jump and drop his plectrum.

“Yeah, I am.” He said, bending down to pick it up.

Phil Lester, a bit of a legend on the scene, was grinning down at him as he straightened up. “Nice, man. I’m on after you.”

“I’ll hype up the crowd for you. Although they’re looking good tonight already.”

“Yeah, suppose Ben had a hand in that.” Phil motioned over to the man with bright red hair in the middle of the stage who was just jumping up onto one of the amplifiers.

They watched together for a few seconds, before Phil turned to him and said, “Are you playing Monkeys tonight?”

“Yeah, I am. Second to last song.”

Phil nodded, “One of my favourites.” Dan had met Phil a couple of times before, but he hadn’t expected the other man to have listened to his music enough to have an opinion on it. The surprise must have showed on his face, because Phil laughed, “You have some good tunes, man.”

“Thanks, mate.” Before he could stop himself, he added, “You should come on and do the chorus with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. That would really get the crowd zazzed.”

Phil laughed, “Get them zazzed, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, laughing along.

“Alright, cool. I’ll be standing over here anyway. Just announce me or whatever and I’ll come on. I’ll get a mic while you play.”

King Red came off the stage and they both stepped aside to let the band pass. Techs started getting to work replacing instruments and sets, telling Dan he had about five minutes to sort out Phil’s appearance in his set. “So how about you come in at the end of the bridge and sing the chorus right after, and then we sing the last chorus together?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

As they waited for the techs to finish their task Dan was kept busy by artists coming up to him and wishing him luck. It was a nice little Distorted Tour tradition that he liked to participate in himself as well: he had been wandering around the grounds wishing musicians about to go on the different stages the best and patting their shoulders. In return, those artists were now dropping by the side of the main stage to reciprocate.

“Time.” Someone shouted. A guitar was pushed into Dan’s hands and he had just enough time to put the strap around his neck before he stepped out to a roaring crowd.

It was a feeling like no other. Adrenaline shot through his veins as his heart picked up, beating at double its normal rate. As far as he could see the crowd stretched out in front of him, full of excited and sweaty faces. There was thousands of people who had been partying for hours and were more than happy to keep going for another few. The band behind him launched into his first song and Dan’s mind went blank, as he let the music flow through him.

Just before he started Monkeys he glanced to the side of the stage where he found Phil lightly jumping up and down to get himself pumped up. He was holding a mic and had his head tilted to listen to the man next to him, Jack the stage director, as he prepared to go on.

“Ladies and gents, Phil Lester!”

Loud roaring followed from the crowd. Dan stepped back just as Phil ran on, jumped up on an amplifier and launched into the chorus. With someone else taking the vocals Dan took on the lead guitar role for a bit, which was something he rarely got to do as a solo artist.

Swinging the guitar onto his back Dan stepped up to the mic and sang the final chorus with Phil. It really was something else to hear a crowd of thousands of people shout lyrics you wrote back at you. Phil understood. Their eyes met for a moment and they grinned at each other in a silent recognition.

The final chords played and resonated over the open field as Phil pulled Dan into a quick hug and yelled in his ear, “Thanks, mate. I’ll see you backstage after the show, yeah?”

Dan nodded at him, squeezing his shoulder, before Phil turned and walked off stage, waving at the crowd as he did so.

--

It had got dark around them. Most of the artists had finished their performances and left for the camping grounds to do drinks, party, or just go back to their bus. From where Dan was sat on an amplifier with a bottle of water he could see both Phil on the main stage and catch glimpses of Poetic Thursdays on Stage 2 behind him. His manager Sofia had been by for a chat, but she was now leaning against some technical equipment as she talked to Phil’s manager.

He was tired.

The polite thing to do would be to invite Phil to get some drinks, but what he really wanted to do was lie down on the sofa in the back of his bus and watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine reruns until he fell asleep. Sofia had told him to get a quick beer – “fifteen minutes, Dan, then you can come back to the bus and relax”-, and he would, as he always did when Sofia told him to do something. He ran a hand over his face and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his fingertips.

Phil was rounding up his set as the clock neared half eleven. Stage 2 would be continuing till midnight, but main stage was closing after this set, and Stage 3 had already finished up a few minutes before. Dan hopped up to go and wish the final band going on Stage 2 luck, dragging his tired body along. His sweaty hair had just about dried from his own performance and had now settled into curls that fell over his forehead and prickled at his eyes. Even more than he was looking forward to getting back to his bus he was excited to put on a hoodie. It was quite cold now that the sun had gone down.

“Nice set, man.”

“You too, Luce.” Dan exchanged back pats with another solo artist on her way to Stage 2. The two of them made their way over together as they approached the band standing by the side of the stage. Lucy seemed to know the members and gave Dan quick introduction.

“I’d invite you to come party with us later, but you look like you’re about to go crash into your bunk and lose consciousness for a couple of hours.” The front man joked.

Dan laughed, “Sounds about right, yeah. Have a good night, guys. Smash it.”

“I’m going to stick around for their performance.” Lucy said. Grinning, she added, “Sleep well.”

The music had already stopped by the time Dan got back to the main stage. Phil, his manager and Sofia were just meeting backstage and he was pulled into the little circle. “You coming for drinks?” Dan asked. He accompanied his words with a friendly punch to Phil’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of them hopped off the platform, the managers trailing behind them as they left for the tents.

“Good set, man. Loved the show.”

“Thanks, you weren’t too bad yourself.” Phil smiled at him through the dim light coming from the lamps lining the sides of the pathway.

“Thanks. So, do you have a bar preference?”

“To be honest with you, I don’t usually go to any of the parties or anything after sets.” Phil admitted.

“Really? Why not?”

“I’m tired, man.” Phil said, laughing.

“Are you tired right now? We don’t need to go for drinks if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. I could go for a drink.”

Dan grabbed his arm, bringing them both to a halt, “Okay, so how about we go back to my bus, have some drinks and play a round of Mario Kart, and then go to sleep?”

Despite the darkness Dan could see Phil’s eyes light up beside him, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t usually party either. I’m more of a ‘watch some TV and fall asleep before 1AM’ kind of guy.”

“Alright, great.”

They turned, setting course for the encampment in the other direction.

“Where are you guys going?” Sofia’s voice only came a minute after their change of plans. She’d probably been too engulfed in conversation to notice earlier, and when Dan shouted their intentions back she shrugged and continued on to the bars with Phil’s manager. As long as Dan was honouring his duties by offering Phil a drink it was all fine by her.

The camping field was resting in a quiet twilight. Small groups of artists were leaning against buses smoking cigarettes or speaking in hushed tones as Dan and Phil passed by. Phil had his hands pushed into his pockets giving quick nods to people he knew, trailing a few steps behind Dan who led the way. He had been playing Distorted Tour for years and he didn’t just know the other artists, but most of the crew too. Fans who met him always insisted he was such a lovely guy in real life, and the fact that he remembered everyone’s names and faces was a testimony for that.

The two men hopped up into Dan’s bus and walked to the sofa in the back. “Make yourself at home. Want a beer?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Phil sat down and grabbed a PlayStation controller from the shelf as Dan went to the tiny kitchen at the front of the bus. “So, Mario Kart?”

“Yeah, I was thinking that, but I’ve got some other games up on the shelf if you prefer any of those.” Dan said. When he came back with two bottles of beer Phil had kicked off his shoes and was stood on the sofa to reach the highest shelf. His fingers were running over the titles on the covers. Dan put the bottles on the coffee table, took off his trainers and hopped up next to Phil, “Anything good?”

“Yeah, I love me some Halo.” Phil pulled out a game and read the back.

“That’s a good one. This one’s another favourite of mine.” Dan said, tapping one of the Final Fantasy games.

“That entire series is legendary, to be fair.”

They settled on Mario Kart anyway, plopping down on the sofa and settling in with their feet propped up on the coffee table.

Dan was happy to have a videogame buddy for the night, given he’d been playing alone for the first week or so of the tour. Occasionally Sofia would play a couple of rounds with him, but she got bored easily and would leave him to it, and other times a few of the crew members joined in. He’d played more FIFA over the past seven days than he had in the whole year before, which said a lot about how desperate he had been for some company.

Phil was better than Dan had expected. After three consecutive losses Dan took his feet off the table and sat leant forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes narrowed and focused on the screen. “Alright, it’s on now.”

Phil laughed, “Bring it on, Danny boy.” He stayed relaxed, even took a swig of his beer and navigated the menu onehanded at the same time.

After Dan won the next two games, they were interrupted by Sofia who popped her head in to say she was back and would just be taking a shower and retiring to her bunk. Phil invited her to play a round, but she politely declined, winking at Dan when the other man had turned his head back to the TV.

--

Phil won their little tournament 16-14 and at 2:30 in the morning he was finally putting his shoes back on and getting ready to leave for his own bus. The two of them were exhausted, the rest of the crew having got back already and gone to sleep.

“Well, this got a bit out of hand.” Phil whispered, stepping onto the grass in the cold Summer night. Dan was half hanging out the door, his arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to keep himself warm.

“It was worth it though.”

“Yeah.” Phil nodded for a second before adding, “So, same time tomorrow?”

Dan’s eyes lit up, “Yeah, definitely.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

Dan watched Phil walked back to his bus, losing sight of him when he disappeared around a corner. He saw the motion sensor activated lights by the sides of the walkway turn on underneath one of the buses in the distance, tracing Phil’s path. The breeze eventually made him step back in and pull the door shut. Too tired to shower, he went straight to his bunk.

--

Dan got to sleep in till nearly noon, as his soundcheck was at two. He made the trek to the tents in his sweats and slippers to get some breakfast and enjoyed the morning sun on his bare chest. It was only twelve and it had already heated up a lot since the middle of the night when he’d seen Phil off.

“Morning, dude. Wild night last night?” Sam Collins, head of the tech crew, was just scooping up some grilled cheese toasties onto a paper plate at the buffet.

“Something like that.” Dan grinned. He grabbed a plate and joined the queue.

“Didn’t see you around the party. Though I did leave quite early.”

“Oh, I didn’t hang around here. I took the party back to my bus.”

“Really? Sick, dude.”

Dan ran his hand over his face. He could feel his tiredness in his eyes and made a half-hearted attempt to shake it out of his limbs.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, please.” Dan took it gratefully. “How are you doing, anyway? Feel like I haven’t spoken to you in forever.”

Alexa grinned, leaning against the table that held the coffee machine, “You know, same old, same old.”

He stood and chatted to her for a while as he ate his bagel. He and Alexa went way back to Dan’s first year on Distorted, three years ago, when she had taken him under her wing and guided him through his debut on Stage 3. Now he had worked himself up to main stage and she had worked herself up to main stage opener. They spoke occasionally over text outside of Distorted, but really, most of their friendship was based within the tour encampment and acted out over cups of coffee backstage.

“Hey, I heard you hung out with Phil last night. How’s he doing? I’ve barely seen him all tour.”

If Dan thought he and Alexa had known each other a while, Phil and Alexa went even further back. The two of them had both featured in the line-up of the first ever Distorted Tour seven years earlier. They’d both been barely twenty and eager for their big break. Over the years they’d become somewhat of a phenomenon in the media and questions about the nature of their relationship always hung in the air. Dan had never asked Alexa about it but seeing as she’d dated several people in secret over the past few years he figured there was probably nothing romantic there.

She seemed casual as she asked about him. Amicable curiosity out of genuine interest rather than a question with an agenda.

“He’s good, I think,” Dan responded, “we played Mario Kart and he’s pretty good at it. He beat me.”

She laughed, “Yeah, I’m sure he did. He’s into his video games.”

“He’s really nice. He featured in one of my songs during my set last night.”

“Oh, really? I left early to meet a friend in the city, so I saw half of the set after mine and nothing else. I’ll be around tonight, though. I’ll come see your sets.”

“I watched yours last night. The crowd really loves you.”

She beamed at him as she nodded.

--

Dan went up to the main stage early that evening. He’d taken a long shower, washed his hair, and was now wearing a baby pink shirt that he knew his fans loved.

As he walked past the fences people ran up or screamed at him from afar. The night was young and the energy was through the roof. He waved at the fans, hopping up on the elevated platform by the main stage and climbing onto an amplifier.

Alexa wasn’t on yet, so he sat turned to the crowd, his legs dangling off the side, as he communicated wordlessly with the enormous group of people. The sun was warming the back of his neck, he was comfortably leaning back onto his arms, and swarms of people were beaming up at him and proclaiming their love. It was bound to be a good night.

“Hey,” Dan turned around just as Alexa climbed on up next to him. The crowd in front of them went wild watching the two artists settle down next to each other and speak in hushed tones unheard to anyone but them. “you coming to watch me open?”

“Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Me too, tonight’s going to be a good one.”

Alexa was set to go on in twenty minutes, and behind them techs started getting to work setting up the stage for her.

Just as Dan was turning back to the crowd, they started screaming louder than before. He didn’t get a chance to ask Alexa what was happening, as a hand squeezed his shoulder and Phil’s face appeared, “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Phil, come sit with us.” Alexa scooted over to make room and the three of them sat together, tapping their heels against the amplifier to the beat of the song that was playing over the speakers.

When Alexa stood up, ruffled the boys’ hair, and left for the stage, Dan and Phil moved in to sit next to each other, “Did you watch her yesterday, too?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head, “I was hanging with some of the crew back at my bus. But I can’t go too long without watching her perform; she’s incredible.”

“She really is,” Phil grinned, looking over to where Alexa was just taking the stage, “I played a couple songs with her on her tour last Fall. The energy at her shows is epic, man, really. So many crowd surfers.”

The two of them watched and bopped their heads along to her set, softly singing under their breaths until they realised they were both doing it. They both grinned, upping their volume more and more, their voices reaching each other even over the loud music coming from the speaker. During the especially upbeat chorus of Alexa’s fifth song Phil jumped up and started dramatically performing along, and of course Dan wouldn’t let himself be outdone like that.

He propped himself up on his knees to feign the guitar solo that followed. The crowd was loving it, but neither of them really noticed. They were engrossed in each other, in their little game, and didn’t come to their senses until Alexa finished the song and announced she would be ‘slowing things down for a bit’, starting a soft acoustic song with her own guitar hanging off her neck.

--

Usually when Dan felt hyper and pumped up after the stage had been closed he went to the bars to use up his excessive energy by playing drinking games and drunken tag with the other artists. Today, however, he was excited to funnel it into a strong, competitive game of Mario Kart.

He was like a small child, jumping up and down next to Phil who was trying to have a quick chat with some people before they would leave for the bus. When Phil finally turned away and gave Dan a nod, Dan immediately called out, “Race you there.” And took off.

And although Phil rolled his eyes, he immediately set in on the chase.

 “Really? You’re going to…. Make me run…. After such a long day?” Phil put his hands on his knees, pressing his forehead against the cool side of the tour bus. “I’m old.” He muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, the moment I started…. I regretted it… but I couldn’t back out.”

They stood and caught their breath for a few moments before Dan unlocked the door and let them both into the bus.

Phil knew where to go. While Dan went to get them drinks Phil kicked of his trainers in the back of the bus and settled down on the sofa. By the time Dan joined him he was sat with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a PlayStation controller in his hands, and the TV already on and botting up the game.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Yeah, I’ve waited all day to beat you again.”

“Aw, it’ll be an unpleasant night for you then.”

“Really, how so?”

“Ain’t nobody going to beat me tonight.” Dan said, trying to hide his grin.

“The only way I won’t beat you is if you’re not playing, Mr Howell.”

“Playing? You think this is a game?” He sat up, his eyes narrowed, as he put his index finger close to Phil’s face, “I’m dead serious.”

Phil was the first to crack. He opened his mouth to give a snarky response but started laughing before he could get a word out, and the moment his face changed Dan joined in and broke his character.

Nonetheless, the two of them took their tournament so seriously that by the time either one of them remembered to take a sip of their beer it had gone lukewarm. They drank it anyway, holding it between their thighs while they played and taking quick gulps in between games.

By 3AM they had each had a couple of beers and were struggling to be quiet. The crew members Dan shared his bus with had retired to their bunks for the nightly drive, and they’d already been told to ‘shut the fuck up’ twice now. They’d giggled like school children both times.

The scores were a mystery, but both insisted they were winning. Dan was making some grand statement, tapping the side of his controller against Phil’s chest with each syllable, but lost his train of thought midsentence and got a hearty laugh as a response.

“Shut up.” Dan said, his words slightly slurred.

“You’re cute.”

If anything was going to sober them both up within seconds it was those words.

“Excuse me?”

Phil shrugged, trying to play it cool.

“I’m cute, huh?” Dan had what could only be described as a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Play the dumb game.”

“No, you think I’m cute.” Dan was shaking his head just a little bit harder than strictly necessary, as was to be expected from someone who’d had a couple of beers and was probably drunk both off alcohol and sleep deprivation.

“What about it?”

And in his dumb, drunken state, Dan dropped his controller, took Phil’s face between both his hands, and kissed him right on his lips.

The other man was too surprised – and maybe too drunk -  to react immediately, but after a couple of seconds he put his hand on the side of Dan’s neck and returned the kiss. His controller fell onto the sofa somewhere, completely forgotten about.

Dan managed to sit up onto his knees, pushing Phil into the back of the sofa as he leaned over him. Really, the only thing holding his swaying body steady were Phil’s hands that were now both firmly planted on his hips to keep him right side up. The bus was suddenly awfully quiet, the silence only broken by the bus’s running engine and the upbeat Mario Kart jingle coming from the TV that was making the atmosphere just slightly strange.

“What are we doing?” Phil muttered against Dan’s lips.

“I don’t know,” came the response from Dan, who had the sense to pull away before speaking, “Got a bit carried away.”

“Yeah, let’s finish the tournament.”

And with that, they both picked up their controllers again and let the incident slip their drunken minds.

--

Dan woke up with a headache to serve as a reminder of the fact that he was no longer eighteen and his body wasn’t nearly as good at handling alcohol as it had once been.

He groaned, rolling over onto his side. Phil Lester was still beside him, curled up with a controller on his chest, his hand lightly gripping onto it.

Someone had turned off the TV at some point and going by the light that was coming in through the windows that might have been a while ago. As he heaved himself up on his elbows he caught a glimpse of the clock at the front of the bus. Through narrowed eyes he made out the numbers; 11:21.

Phil stirred when Dan swung his legs onto the floor, “Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“What time did we go to sleep?”

“We didn’t so much go to sleep as we were taken by sleep, I think.” Dan responded. He got to his feet, stretching out his stiff limbs.  “Coffee?”

“Yeah, what time is it?”

“Nearly half eleven.”

Phil shot up, “Damn, I’m scheduled for soundcheck at twelve, and I” – he sniffed himself – “smell horrendous.”

“No one’s going to smell you when you’re up on stage.” Dan said. But Phil was already making his way through the narrow hallway to the door.

“Save me a coffee. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Alright, man.”

--

After Phil popped his head in to take his cup of coffee and then immediately dashed off again, Dan didn’t see him again until that evening.

He wasn’t sure what to say when they ran into each other in the field behind the stages. Although they’d both carefully avoided the topic that morning, right now it was hanging heavy in the air between them. At least, that was how it felt to Dan. “Hey, man.” He said quietly.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dan blinked a few times as the realisation settled in that Phil felt in no way awkward about this.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Cool, are we playing again tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m-” He stopped, narrowing his eyes, “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Do you remember last night?”

“Ah,” Phil had the audacity to grin, “yeah, of course I remember.”

“And you don’t feel weird about it?”

“Should I?” His face fell when he saw Dan’s serious expression.

“I don’t know. We were drunk.”

“Yeah, but it was fun.”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh at that, “True. Was it not a mistake?”

“Not on my part.”

“Not on mine either, I don’t think.”

“Alright. So, same time tonight? And same activity?”

“Yeah.” Dan was a bit stunned, but if Phil could read it on his expression he wasn’t showing it.

“Okay, cool. I’m going to go meet with Alexa. I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah, see you later.” Dan watched Phil walk away, his eyes following the other man to the side of the main stage, where he hugged Alexa and they exchanged words he couldn’t hear. He didn’t walk away until the two disappeared out of sight.

--

“You two are lucky I messaged Kendall last night to tell him Phil was in our bus.” Sofia told Dan as he stood, sweaty, by the side of the main stage close to midnight. “I texted him at one, just before we were set to hit the road, and he had no idea. Had been calling and texting the guy non-stop.”

“Oops.” Dan responded.

“‘Oops’ is right. Make sure the people who need to know, know where you both are next time you have a fling.”

“Excuse me?” Dan said, his face going slightly red.

Sofia’s serious façade broke and she laughed, “You think I didn’t notice? You’ve got to be more careful if you want things to be a secret, love.”

“I was being careful.”

“Yeah, we all make out with our buddies on the sofa at 3AM.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. This isn’t a reprimand. At least, not really. It’s only a reprimand for the not letting people know where you are part. The hooking up part is entirely your own business; you’re a big boy.”

Dan rolled his eyes but laughed, “Yeah, thanks for that one, Sofia.”

She squeezed his shoulder with a grin as she turned on her heel and walked away.

Beside him, Phil was just finishing up his set. As the man ran off stage under loud applause Dan grabbed the bottle of water he’d brought off the amplifier he was stood beside and offered it to the sweaty artist.

“Thanks.” Phil muttered.

For a few moments they stood next to each other in silence as Phil caught his breath and gulped down half the bottle of water in one go. Then, Dan said, “So, you too tired to get your arse kicked tonight?”

“Are you kidding? I was born for this. Let me say bye to some people and I’ll be right with you.” Phil responded, he looked around, eyes already scanning the field for people he knew, “Or you can come with me. I’ll be quick.”

Dan shrugged. The two of them hopped off the platform and made their way over to some band members by the side of Stage 2. It was pitch black out, but the area behind the stages was brightly illuminated by a generous number of lights scattered around the premises. Dan looked at the sky as he trailed behind Phil, taking in the dark grey clouds and the few stars that had managed to make themselves seen despite them.

The two men went by a couple of groups of people. Dan said little, sticking to friendly nods at people he knew, and a quick hug for Luce.

The last person Phil wanted to say goodnight to was Alexa, who was by Stage 3 to hang out with a band who had supported her on her Fall tour months earlier. Dan vaguely recognised them but couldn’t recall their name.

“Hey, man. Sorry I missed your set tonight. I was watching The Roots play their first ever Distorted Tour set.”

“All good, no worries.” Phil said, he looked at the band members, “Congrats on your Distorted debut.” he smiled.

“Thanks, we’re going to celebrate with a lot of beer.” The front man joked.

“Do you want to join the party? I haven’t seen you around the bars all tour. It’ll be fun.”

Phil glanced over at Dan before looking back at her with a grin, “You know what,” he said, “Thanks for the invitation, but I have plans for tonight. And it looks like it’s going to be plenty of fun.”

Just behind him, Dan was forced to look off to the side in an attempt to stay casual. Nevertheless, a knowing grin spread over his features.

[cyrelia-j]

[Drabble/Ficlet idfk] Inside A Dream II (Garak/Bashir)

Well it was supposed to be a one-shot... and then I wanted to keep writing it. And I still want to keep writing it but it go a little longer than the last so I don't know what to call it. A continuation of the last, I won't spoil for those who hadn't read it. 

You can read the other one here so this isn't confusing.

Still AU but not really an AU set at the end of everything show/books. Angst, Drama, Romance, falling in love [again maybe] but lots of angst and bittersweetness to be had, This next part is based off the second son of Echosmith's "Inside A Dream" album "Get Into My Car".

"Get into my car, get into my life Get into my heart, you know what I like Come give me something that I won't know how to live without I don't wanna miss and I can't let this could pass me now"

Julian meets the lizard man again along the river. Sometimes he likes to spend his days slowly making his way down watching the ice floes in the winter when everything is frozen. It makes him feel like he’s on a distant world in some far off future where humanity has taken its place amongst the stars. He had said to Dr. Parmak- that he’d started dreaming of outer space nearly every night after meeting Garak again. He was concerned that he might disappear too far into his own mind. Dr. Parmak had assured him that such fears were normal but encouraged him to keep going out every day as he had been even just to walk. Julian listened to him and followed his directions exactly. Dr. Parmak, Julian realized without ever noticing before was also a lizard man. He wanted very badly to ask Dr. Parmak if he knew Garak but that seemed awfully presumptuous so he kept silent on the matter. 

Julian thought perhaps they’d given him a lizard doctor because of the Medicaid cuts. That was what Mary had said to him. His neighbor, Mary was an old woman of indeterminate age that he imagined to be somewhere between eighty and two hundred. She said it was only a matter of time before they replaced her own doctor, Dr. Obaray with a lizard doctor too at the rate the country was declining.   She spoke often of the war and her husband though Julian couldn’t rightly be sure which war she was referring to. She found it funny that Julian had a pill cocktail comparable to hers. She also tended to frequently drift off into dream worlds while the two of them shared company on her sofa at night watching the old television in her room. Mary also told him if he didn’t listen to the lizard doctor he’d never be well enough to no longer need the cane. So even on days when it snowed Julian was sure to go for a stroll. 

Julian doesn’t know why sometimes he can hear things and sense things that others can’t. Mary had said to him that it was the government experimenting on them they way they had done to her grandson some twenty of thirty years ago. She was convinced they’d done the same to him and he had to promise whenever he entered the house that she could “de magnetize” him. She spoke often of her family but had no pictures. Neither did Julian. It made Julian wonder if they really hadn’t done something to him while he was asleep. Sometimes he wonders if he hadn’t dreamed being alive before now. So in that way meeting Garak was a blessing. It was something that he could look forward to. Dr. Parmak had asked him as he always did if he had any goals. Before now Julian couldn’t imagine any. Now he had one at least: seeing Garak again.

Well Julian, s’pose now you’ll need to find something else. He finds his head turning before Garak should rightly be close enough. He sees the gray and black shape before Garak really comes into focus. Dr. Parmak had suggested a pair of spectacles similar to his but Julian found they gave him a terrible headache. He think or rather somehow he knows that his perfect eyesight is a small price to pay for... for something he isn’t sure of. Julian shakes himself back to the present as Garak comes closer. He’s curious as to whether or not Garak drove. Cars intimidate Julian. He’s certain that he’s never driven one in his life. He usually relies on the buses or the train.

“Garak?” He asks from the bench where he’s seated. There’s an acknowledging motion from that figure, and before he comes into focus Julian quickly puts his cigarette out. He’s almost certain that the smoke must have bothered him the last time. Julian has his cane with hm today, the walk along the canal far more difficult than others he’s taken. Julian waves feeling himself pulled into some excitement that he thought he’d lost. God the way my heart would jump whenever I’d see you enter the... the... Julian blinks away whatever’s trying to crawl towards the surface and doesn’t let the slipping memory upset him as it sometimes does. Perhaps being near Garak will trigger more of those slipstream moments. perhaps he may even be able to catch some of them.

Garak manages a smile for him today too and it’s still that terribly painful looking thing. Julian can feel his own joyous expression falter but then he decides that well that just must be the lizard way of trying to mimic a human expression. He tries to remember if Dr. Parmak’s face looks that same way but it slips away too. Julian hasn’t been able to remember anything else about Garak no matter how hard he’s tried. He’s sat on the pull out bed that he sleeps on trying some meditation stuff he’d seen in a magazine at the store but he’s never been able to focus right for it. His head is unable to be silent without a painful swimming buzz. The nicotine helps that though. He doesn’t trust himself to start drinking though sometimes he will nick a bit of vodka from Mary if it’s a particularly rough night. They’re not supposed to have anything like that but she always keeps a small bottle beneath her sofa and has said he’s welcome to it if he shares his cigs here and there. 

“Ah, Julian, you’re looking well. Please, you don’t need to stand for me. I confess, I have more than my fill of that in my current duties.” “Oh,” Julian sits back down, not sure what Garak means by that. “Are you ah... in the military?” Did the US military recruit lizard men? Was that some area 51 thing they talked about in the rags at the grocery? Mary may have been right after all then about the experiments. Garak laughs softly, taking a seat next to him on the bench. His coat looks warm and Julian can see the wool hat and scarf. Garak is wearing gloves today is well. Julian’s wearing an old green army coat he’d picked up at the donation at Thanksgiving. He doesn’t usually feel the cold though sometimes his legs will go pins and needles and one days like today hands hands never seem to be warm. Julian isn’t sure why that’s funny and Garak fortunately feels the need to explain it for him.

“No, my... no, Julian,” Garak says as if he were about to say something else before thinking better of it. “I’m a tailor, that’s all. Just a tailor. When we first met you had some amusing misconceptions about my occupation as well. You’ve made a few curious guesses since then as well so perhaps I’m just... remembering.” Garak turns to him and Julian can see those blue eyes searching his face. He tries to smile. “Oh, I see that sounds... I sound a bit foolish there and I’m sorry that I can’t remember but um... I was hoping talking to you might... bring something back? Were you and I friends?” Julian asks just as he thinks even with the scarf pulled up over his mouth, even with the funny scales, the ridges marbling his forehead and that weird blue dip that the older lizard man, that Garak is still one of the most handsome men that he’s ever seen. "Still"? Where did that come from?

“Yes, Julian, we were friends. A long time ago, we were friends,” Garak says as if he’s agreeing with something rather than saying it. Julian isn’t sure what’s causing him to react in such a way. He isn’t sure how lizard people comfort each other either. Alright then, we were friends. He’s a tailor? Does he live nearby? Why haven’t I ever seen him before now? Did we quarrel? Was he angry with me? Was he visiting this entire time without my knowing it? I don’t think so. i’m sure that it’s been... Julian tries to remember how long he’s been awake but it’s difficult without his notes. He should have brought a notebook with him but he didn’t think that he was going to see Garak again. He had a moment of panic that he may never see him again and even if he does he doesn’t know if he can remember the book every time....

“Julian?” Garak’s voice cuts through him and Julian realized embarrassed that he’s blanked out again. Garak’s hand is on his shoulder as it was the other day they’d met. That steadies him for a moment. He wipes his hands on the faded jeans that he’s wearing. A cigarette would help but... but he doesn’t need that right now. He can wait. He can make himself wait. He’s sure that Garak isn’t going to want to hang around all day with him. Julian doesn’t talk very much anymore. He thinks he may have said more but he’s more at ease now listening to other voices. “Sorry, lost myself there a moment but it’s okay. Promise. Happens all the time. Cracked my head open or something I think. I think I... er... car accident. Met a car and we had a bit of a disagreement,” he says staring hard at Garak’s coat. 

Julian feels a belated shiver at Garak’s hand on his shoulder but it isn’t a bad one. He isn’t sure why but he feels a bit cold now as well. It might be the sun starting to go down again but he couldn’t help but stare out at the low winter rays hitting the frozen water. He doesn’t know how long he sat there or when he ate last but it couldn’t have been that long because he doesn’t feel hungry. Julian’s fingers tap a soft melody on Garak’s gloved hand and his head tip over, resting on it a moment. He looks at Garak uncertainly. “Is this alright?” he asks quietly, ready to move back if it’s too familiar for just friends. Garak looks absolutely miserable again and Julian just hates himself because it’s him that keeps doing it somehow. “Right, you don’t have to ah... I get a bit weird sometimes... cracked head and all.”

He lets go and Julian scoots a bit further away as a precaution. “No, Julian I...” Garak’s hand drops down and Julian can see him struggling with something. “If there’s something offensive I’m doing, please tell me, Garak.” “”It’s just difficult seeing you like this, though I can certainly appreciate the true difficulty lies with you-” Again there’s something else he swallows down but Julian just sighs and looks out through the black iron rails and watches the birds waddling along the ice. Of course. You’re right. I... I can’t imagine if it was me, I mean and I had a friend in this sort of sad shape. Think I’d be upset as well.” Julian shakes his head then looks at Garak with a speculative tilt of his head. 

“Do you... do you suppose that might be why Sarina left? Of course I’ve asked all around but no one seems to know or want to give me the answer. Likely think I can’t handle the truth but I mean I think... I think I can accept that. I mean I don’t... I don’t remember her or anyone so it’s ah... it’s hard to miss what you don’t remember.” Julian crosses his arms tightly, sitting back on the bench like he could sink back into it. “Do you think that makes me a terrible person, Garak? I... I should think if you truly loved someone that it would be impossible to forget them.” Julian’s voice catches at that last bit of the question and he wishes that it wouldn’t upset Garak to lean into him. These are the sorts of things he hasn’t been able to bring himself to ask Dr. Parmak or Mary, or anyone else he’s talked to since leaving the hospital. He can feel his sinuses burning, and that blur of his eyes that goes beyond his lack of focus. It stings a bit as well and he closes them thinking that surely Garak isn’t going to think he’s a mess and it will be better to have nothing to do with him.

It’s because his eyes are closed that he doesn’t immediately realize that Garak’s pulling him closer until warm arms are around him and he can smell clove and bergamot and it’s really the best damn smell in the entire galaxy. The galaxy? “You’re one of the best men that I’ve ever had the privilege to know,” Garak says into his neck and Julian thinks that his voice trembles. He can’t be sure but given Julian’s penchant for upsetting him, it wouldn’t surprise him. “I...” He doesn’t know what to say to that so here simply enjoys the embrace. He enjoys being warm, realizing now that he didn’t know what it was to be cold until he knew what it felt to be warm like this. He doesn’t know how he’d every forgotten Garak the first time but he says a silent prayer to all the angels and saints may God strike him dead should he ever again. “Garak?” he asks, throat scratchy, legs starting to get numb, arms tingling. “Would you tell me how we met?” He thinks it’s a good place to start, and sees that when Garak pulls back, that the sky has begun to darken. He frowns. He should be getting back instead. “Of course, Julian,” Garak agrees. Julian can’t make out his face as well now.

“I’ll tell you all about it, and then I’ll take you home.”

It’s dark when Garak returns to the land of the living as some with a more glib tongue might call it. The world shimmers out again, and he doesn’t have to wait long before Kelas walks slowly into the room. “Elim?” he asks softly, face an obvious picture of concern. Kelas is about as effective hiding his emotions as Julian is. Guls, Julian... Garak feels as if the smile on his face will freeze there, a testament to stoicism. Julian is still behind him on the bed, and Garak doesn’t think that he can bear to turn around. “Kelas?” he starts, clearing his throat when he realizes that his voice doesn’t quite seem to be cooperating properly. Garak doesn’t waste words telling himself that it wasn’t necessary to stay up, that at his age it’s going to wear on his health to worry after Garak like this. Instead, he lets that smile slip, lowly removing the coat and what Kelas knew he would need today for his trip. He’ll likely need it again tomorrow once all the meetings are concluded. Garak is still shivering in the warmth of Julian’s room when Kelas takes everything wordlessly, neatly folded, and waits for him to continue. Garak’s breath is deep but shaky.

“Do you think I might sleep with you tonight?” “Always, Elim.”

"And I, and I, and I've got my head spinning, spinning And I, and I, and I feel like I've been running And I, and I, and I've got this feeling, feeling That you and I, that you and I will just keep driving"

(Part 3 now up HERE)

[swordandquill]

The Rain is Gone

Summary: Keith has a bad night, but it ends well. 

Notes: Part of the very self-indulgent, no romance ever coffee shop au. If you prefer AO3, you can find it here.

It had rained most of the afternoon and into evening, and Shiro had fallen asleep to the sound. The second floor of the still unnamed café was set up as a living space, and Shiro had moved there from his apartment within weeks of buying the property.

Like everything else, it was a little rough, but he liked it. With the attic space above him, the rain on the roof was just muffled enough to be pleasant, and he had washed all his blankets and comforters earlier in the day. Everything smelt clean and fresh, and he had burrowed himself under the extra fluff of his comforter and let the rain lull him to sleep with no worries.

His phone woke him at 1am, and he tried to reach for it blurrily with his right arm, which didn’t work well without his prosthetic. He had to wiggle to free his left hand from the sheets it was tangled in underneath him, and by the time he got the phone, he expected that he had missed the call.

“Hello?” he slurred sleepily.

There was an audible sigh of relief on the line.

“Shiro, it’s Keith.”

Shiro was suddenly much more awake. It had been close to four months since he had heard from Keith. He didn’t have a cell phone, and as Shiro’s councilor had reminded him more than once, Keith was an adult; Shiro couldn’t force him to accept help no matter how much he needed it, and he probably shouldn’t try.

“It’s good to hear from you,” Shiro kicked at his blankets until he was untangled enough to sit up.

“I…” Keith’s breath was shaky, and Shiro could hear the heavy rain over the line; it sounded like he was outside, “I know I said that last time was it, and I wouldn’t do this again, but can I sleep at your place?”

Shiro took a breath to tell him, yes, always, and also that he had moved, but he didn’t get the chance.

“I promise this will be the last time,” Keith pushed forward in a rush, “I just need someplace to stay tonight. I won’t do it again, just please? I can sleep on the floor or anywhere. It won’t happen again. I promise it won’t.”

“Keith, it can happen as many times as it needs to,” Shiro tucked the phone against his ear so he could flip the bedside light on, and Kona blinked at him from the foot of the bed, “I don’t mind you staying with me for as long as you need to. I just want you to have someplace safe to be.”

“I… I don’t want to…” Keith struggled to find what he wanted to say through chattering teeth, then seemed to give up, “I’ll be over soon.”

“I moved,” Shiro told him, “I’ll come get you.”

“You moved?” Keith sounded almost panicked, “I can’t… there are no buses this time of night.”

“I know,” Shiro swung his feet over the edge of the bed, “I’ll come get you. Where are you?”

“No, you shouldn’t have to,” Keith protested, “I’ll figure something out. What’s your new address?”

“Keith, it’s pouring rain, and it’s one o’clock in the morning,” Shiro was glad Keith couldn’t see him roll his eyes, “where are you?”

There was quiet over the line, filled with the sound of rain on both ends and Keith’s sniffles. Knowing Keith, he wasn’t crying, he was cold.

“I’m at the bus stop at the end of Jarre Avenue,” Keith finally told him, “well, at the pay phone across the street from it, anyway.”

Which meant Keith was still six miles from Shiro’s old apartment and had probably planned to try to walk to it. In the rain. At one o’clock in the morning. And everyone wondered why he worried about Keith so much.

“It will take me about half an hour to get there,” Shiro stood up, “try and find some place dry to wait, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks Shiro,” Keith mumbled into the line.

“Anytime,” Shiro said seriously, “I mean it. I always want you to call me if you need help.”

“Okay,” Keith suddenly sounded so young over the line, “I’ll see you soon.”

Shiro spotted Keith huddled under the meager cover of the bus stop, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and soggy cardboard box at his feet. He looked up tiredly when Shiro pulled his car up to the curb. His clothes were soaked and frayed at the hems and the sole of one of his shoes was coming off. He looked like a hobo, and despite Shiro’s best efforts to the contrary, he kind of was.

That didn’t make Shiro want to help him any less.

Keith grabbed his box and hurried towards the car before Shiro could get out. Shiro had to reach across the front seat to push the door open for him, and Keith tossed his duffle in the back seat, then set the box carefully on the footboard of the front before climbing in.

“Here, bundle up,” Shiro reached into the back and pulled out the blankets he had tossed there, “your lips are turning blue.”

Keith mumbled a thank you and promptly disappeared under the blankets as if he was trying to hide from Shiro.

Shiro pulled away from the curb and let the quiet settle over them. Even before everything had gone wrong, Keith had always needed time and space to process situations that involved people and find the right words to fit what was in his head and what he wanted other people to know.

“I’m sorry,” a sniffle punctuated the apology, and Keith somehow managed to make himself even smaller, “I really tried! But everything just kept going wrong, and I wouldn’t pretend like I hadn’t seen the manager stealing so he fired me, and then I couldn’t pay my rent and got evicted, and I had enough for a motel last night, but not tonight, and I thought I’d be okay, but the rain just wouldn’t stop, and I didn’t want to bother you again, but I didn’t know what to do, and I’m sorry! I’ll do better.”

Keith’s whole body was trembling by the time he finished, his breath coming in uneven hitches.

“It’s not fair!” he gasped, anger flowing in to replace the things that were too hard for him to sort and name, “Shiro, it’s not fair! I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Shiro missed his arm. He missed it for a lot of reasons, but right now he missed it because the best he could manage with his prosthetic while still driving was an awkward pat on Keith’s back. He left the weight resting there for a moment, and even though he knew Keith was shaking, he couldn’t feel it.

“I know,” Shiro said steadily.

For a moment Keith was still, then all the fight seemed to drain out of him, and he slumped against the car door.

“Did you get all your stuff from your apartment?” Shiro asked, “we can go back and get anything you left behind.”

“No,” Keith shook his head, or at least, Shiro assumed he shook his head from the way the pile of blankets moved, “I got everything important, and there wasn’t much I left except some furniture. It’s probably already been pawned.”

Shiro focused on driving and did his best to reign in his sudden flare of temper, to clamp down on his desire to tell Keith that he should have called him sooner. Much sooner. They had talked about this. Shiro felt like they had talked about it over and over again, but Keith still refused to reach out to him for help until everything had fallen apart completely.

“Where did you move?” Keith shifted restlessly, face still hidden under the folds of the blankets.

“Oh,” Shiro brightened immediately, “I bought a restaurant, and it has a great living space above it.”

“You did what?” Keith finally pulled the blankets away from his face, staring at Shiro as if he was trying to gauge if he was serious.

“Well, it was a restaurant, but I’m going to turn it into a café,” Shiro ignored the way Keith was looking at him like he had gone crazy, “it’s really an amazing property.”

“Shiro, you can’t cook,” Keith said bluntly, “you caught microwave mac and cheese on fire once.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to hire someone,” Shiro shrugged, ���but I have to hire people anyway.”

Shiro paused for a moment, eyeing Keith thoughtful out of the corner of his eye.

“Actually, I’m glad you called,” Shiro said cheerfully, “I could really use your help.”

“With what?” Keith narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then backtracked, “I mean I’ll help you with anything you need, but what is it?”

“The property needs a lot of work. The building needs to be renovated, and the gardens need to be cleaned up, and there’s a never ending pile of yard work, which I’m a lot slower at then I used to be,” he flexed the fingers on his prosthetic to emphasis his point, “I could really use your help getting everything cleaned up and ready to go.”

“I don’t…” Keith’s brow furrowed.

This felt an awful lot like charity. Make up a job for the trouble making homeless kid to placate him so he wouldn’t complain about not wanting handouts.

“I’ll give you room and board in exchange,” Shiro continued as if he hadn’t noticed Keith’s suspicious look, “money is a little bit tight while we get things going, but I could at least do that. It’s not really a fair exchange for you, but you would be doing me a huge favor. The less I have to pay professionals to do things that don’t really require a professional, the more money I can put towards improving the building and grounds.”

Well, it couldn’t have been worse than the last five jobs Keith had had, and he knew he would like working with Shiro. That didn’t stop the offer from feeling like pity though.

“I’ll think about it,” Keith could at least agree to that.

“Good,” Shiro grinned at him, “once you see the place, you’ll want to stay.”

Keith stared at the profile of Shiro’s face in the dim light of the car and wondered what it was about this place that made Shiro so happy.

“Go jump in the shower and get warmed up,” Shiro tugged at Keith’s duffle until he let go of it, slinging it over his own shoulder, “I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

Keith looked uncertainly around the living room. There were still boxes stacked against the wall, and the furniture was sparse. He remembered the well-worn couch from Shiro’s other apartment, but the makeshift coffee table made from what seemed to be a round table top propped on boxes was new. There wasn’t a tv, but Shiro had set up his stereo.

“Hey,” Shiro nudged his shoulder, holding out his hands for the box as well, “it’s okay.”

“I…” Keith was shivering under his blankets, and a shower sounded amazing, but he still felt like he was imposing.

A grey cat trotted into the room, tail high and ears perked curiously.

“You got a cat?” Keith blinked.

He knew Shiro liked animals, but last time he had talked about them, it had mostly been to lament that he didn’t feel like he was in any condition to take good care of one.

“Sort of,” Shiro grinned, “the property came with two. That’s Cappuccino, and Kona is probably still sleeping on my bed.”

The cat rubbed against Keith’s legs, weaving between them and purring loudly. Keith reached down to scratch her ears, and she pushed up into his hand.

“You named them after coffee,” Keith gave Shiro an amused look.

“Yeah,” Shiro shrugged, “well, Allura named Cappuccino. She said she was bubbly.”

“Allura?” Keith frowned, wondering if there was someone else living here, and it wasn’t just Shiro he was intruding on.

“You probably never met Allura,” Shiro set Keith’s box down on top of a stack of boxes, “we went to school together, and she’s helping with the budget and book keeping for the café. She’ll be over tomorrow afternoon, and I can introduce you.”

“Okay,” Keith didn’t really want to meet anyone, but he didn’t want to be rude when Shiro was helping him so much.

“Now, go take a shower,” Shiro gave him a push towards the bathroom, “I’m going to unpack your stuff so it can dry out, okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, too tired to keep protesting Shiro doing too much for him, “thanks.”

The t-shirt and sweats Shiro had given him were huge, but at least they were warm. By the time he got out of the shower, there were blankets and pillows piled on the couch for him, and Shiro had tossed most of his clothes in the washing.

There was also a black cat curled up sleeping on top of the pile of blankets. She opened a blue eye lazily when Keith walked by, then went back to sleep.

“I’ll be right there,” Shiro called from the kitchen.

Keith sat cautiously on the couch, giving the black cat a wide berth in case she wasn’t as friendly as Cappuccino.

“You must be Kona,” Keith carefully tugged at a blanket on the bottom of the pile, trying to get it free without bothering the cat.

The cat yawned and stretched, tail flicking, but she didn’t seem upset, so Keith kept pulling, managing to get the blanket out from under her without toppling her. Keith wrapped it around his shoulders and resisted the urge to hide under it. He wasn’t a little kid; he didn’t need to hide under the covers like one. Just sometimes… sometimes he wished he could, and it would actually make things better.

He curled himself in the corner of the couch, tucking his bare feet under Kona’s stack of blankets. Cappuccino sauntered up, meowing loudly before jumping up into his lap. She rubbed against his chest and tried to push her way into his blanket cocoon. Keith stuck a hand out to scratch her back, making her arch up happily.

“Cino, leave him alone,” Shiro came back into the living room holding two steaming mugs.

The cat chattered at him and continued to try to pry her way under Keith’s arm.

“It’s okay,” Keith laughed, “she’s just being friendly.”

“She’s really good at that,” Shiro offered Keith one of the mugs, “also good at knocking things off shelves.”

As soon as Keith had the mug, Cappuccino lost interest in trying to invade his blanket cocoon and tried to sniff the mug, pawing at Keith’s hand when he held it out of her reach.

“Get down, Cino,” Shiro sat on the other end of the couch, Kona and her blanket pile between them, putting his mug down so he could drag the grey cat away from Keith, “he doesn’t want to drink your fur.”

The grey cat seemed very offended by this and jumped off the couch, disappearing through a doorway.

Freed from his fluffy assailant, Keith took a sniff of his mug. It smelt good at least, warm and spicy, “what is it?”

“Tea,” Shiro grinned, reaching for his own mug; he immediately had to hold it out of the way as Kona climbed onto his lap, “Rooibos Chai. Not as good as regular Chai, but it’s naturally caffeine-free and better than decaffeinated Chai.”

“I see you’ve found something new to be nerdy about,” Keith took a sip; it tasted pretty good, but what he cared about most was that it was warm, which meant it was perfect, “caffeine-free and decaffeinated are the same thing.”

“Not even close,” Shiro laughed, “I’ve been reading and researching non-stop since I bought the place. I know it’s shocking, but I actually don’t know anything about coffee or tea, or running a café.”

“I would be shocked,” Keith took another sip of his tea, sniffling when the heat made his nose run, “but you burnt water once.”

“Technically, the water evaporated,” Shiro gave him an amused look over the rim of his mug, “then the pot burnt.”

“I can’t believe you bought a restaurant,” Keith laughed, and it felt good.

“Just wait until you see it in the daylight,” Shiro dropped his hand down to stroke Kona’s back, “it really is beautiful. It’s got good bones; it just needs a lot of work.”

Keith nodded, thinking again about Shiro’s offer. He hadn’t been able to see much as they had dashed through the rain to the door, and the downstairs had been little more than water shadows and broken silhouettes, but up here it was cozy. Like a bubble that kept out the lurking darkness. He already liked it here, and it would be a good deal for him to stay, but he didn’t know if it would be as good for Shiro.

Keith wasn’t exactly a people person. He didn’t mean to be rude or abrasive, but he always seemed to say or do the wrong thing. People just didn’t like him, no matter how hard he tried. So, he had stopped trying. Shiro needed someone who customers would like, which meant he wasn’t what Shiro needed at all.

He would just help Shiro with some of the heavy lifting to pay him back for letting him stay the night, then be on his way. He would manage, he always did.

“Hey,” Shiro leaned forward to shake Keith’s knee, dislodging Kona, who jumped to the floor, “whatever you’re thinking, stop. It’s no good trying to figure out anything when you’re this tired.”

“Yeah,” Keith let out a slow breath, then breathed in the smell of the tea again; it was soothing, “I’m keeping you up. You should get to bed.”

“So should you,” Shiro stood, stretching, “it’s been a long night.”

Keith could only nod. It had been a long couple years, really.

“If you get hungry, help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” Shiro leaned down to ruffle his hair, “and sleep well.”

“Thanks Shiro,” Keith smiled up at him.

Shiro paused at the door to his bedroom and looked back, “it’s good to see you again, Keith. I really am glad you called.”

Keith nodded, hands wrapped tight around his mug. The idea that someone was happy to see him made something warm bloom in his chest. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him and meant it, and Shiro always meant it.

“Goodnight, Keith,” Shiro smiled.

“Goodnight,” Keith watched from under the fringe of his hair as Shiro disappeared into his room, leaving the door cracked for the cats.

Kona trotted in after him, and after a few minutes, Cappuccino reappeared, as if she had been waiting for the coast to clear. She jumped back into Keith’s lap, curling in a ball and kneading happily at the pile of blankets, as if she was claiming them as her own now that Kona wasn’t on them anymore.

Keith dropped a hand down to scratch her ears, liking the way her purr reverberated through him. It felt like nothing could be that wrong if the cat was this happy. Now that he was warm and safe, the steady rainfall seemed almost lazy against the windows, a quiet blanket over the building, cocooning it just as gently as the one wrapped around Keith.

Keith quietly finished his tea, one hand dug into Cappuccino’s fur, his toes still dug under the pile of blankets. He knew he shouldn’t stay for longer than tonight, but at least he would get a good night’s sleep.

Keith blinked his eyes open, not quite sure where he was. Usually that worried him, but he just felt comfortable and warm. There was light trickling through the curtains, making bright stripes on the far wall and everything was blissfully quiet.

Until Cappuccino yawned hugely and stretched, pushing her paws into his face.

“Your breath stinks,” Keith told her sleepily.

He sat up, managing not to dislodge Cappuccino, who had been sleeping in the curve of his body. There was a note on the coffee table, folded to stand upright and with his name on it.

  Ran to the store. Coffee is ready to brew in the kitchen. Just hit the red button (don’t change the settings – trust me, I’m a professional). Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. ~S

Shiro’s handwriting was getting better. For a while he had been so tired of having to learn to do new things with his left hand, that he had stopped trying to write with it. He had compensated by getting fast at texting one handed. The note was still kind of messy, but it was a major improvement from the last time Keith had seen his writing. He must have been practicing again.

Cappuccino gave him a very disgruntled look when he pulled one of the blankets out from under her to wrap around himself, but he was leaving her with two more blankets, two pillows, and the whole couch, so he didn’t see what she had to complain about.

The kitchen was small, but cozy, and the open window over the sink gave Keith a good view of the tree tops and the mid-morning sky. There was a mug and a bag of turbinado sugar with a spoon set next to the coffee maker and another note that said  this is better than the stuff you use.

Keith snorted and turned the brewer on. Apparently buying a restaurant had turned Shiro into a coffee snob. That was probably for the best if he intended to run a café.

Keith went to open the fridge and nearly had a heart attack when he looked up to find two blue eyes staring down at him. Kono was sitting on top of the fridge, watching him curiously. She was sitting on a rather plush looking cat bed, so this must have been normal.

“Shiro is going to turn into a crazy cat lady if he keeps this up,” Keith grumbled and pulled open the fridge.

There was something reassuring about the stacks of take-out boxes and single jar of half eaten jam. This was what Shiro’s fridge had always looked like. Keith grabbed a yogurt cup and closed the door, giving a little wave to Kona, who was watching him as if to make sure he didn’t try anything funny.

He put half a spoonful of sugar into the mug, then boosted himself up on the counter to eat the yogurt with the same spoon. He could see the tree tops swaying in the breeze and the clouds drifted by in lazy heaps. It looked like the rain was gone for a while.

Too bad it couldn’t have cleared up sooner. Then Keith wouldn’t have had to bother Shiro.

He finished his yogurt at the same time the coffee finished brewing, and the coffee was good. Keith had personally seen Shiro set off every smoke alarm in the house and so thoroughly ruin a cookie sheet that they couldn’t get it off the oven rack, and yet, he had somehow managed to make a near perfect cup of coffee.

Maybe he really was meant to run a café.

Keith got dressed and took his mug with him outside. Shiro had said the grounds were nice, and maybe if Keith looked around he could figure out what Shiro needed the most help with before he left.

He cut through the restaurant to get to the patio. All the tables had been cleared off to the side and stacked along with the chairs, and the wooden floor has recently been mopped. The varnish was peeling and chipped, probably too far gone to just leave as it was. The whole floor would need to be refinished.

The whole layout of the room was wrong for a café. There was no counter or area to set up a coffee bar, and the host stand was placed awkwardly in the way of the front door. Everything would need to be redone if Shiro wanted a café where people could come in and just sit and relax.

The windows though were perfect. They ran floor to ceiling in the front and along the side, opening up to the overgrown front yard and the patio, letting in sunlight and making the outside feel like it was part of the room.

Keith pushed open the sliding doors to the patio, taking a deep breath of fresh air. The rain had washed it clean, leaving everything feeling fresh and ready to start over.

He sat on the top step of the patio, knees drawn up and sipping at his coffee. Shiro had been right; it was beautiful here. Overgrown and in need of care, but the potential was there for something amazing. It wouldn’t be so bad helping Shiro clean everything up and get it ready.

But if he was here, Shiro might stop looking for someone better to help him.

Keith pushed himself off the step with enough force that he had to jump over the bottom two and his shoes landed in the gravel path with a crunch. Too restless to stay on the patio, he followed the path around the back of the building and found the remains of an herb garden.

He recognized the herbs, sage, mint, rosemary, parsley. His mom had kept a small herb garden near the kitchen door, and he would help her harvest from it.

Everything was being choked out by weeds though. The herbs were surviving, but they weren’t thriving. Keith crouched down and started pulling up the weeds around mint plants. He knew for sure what the plants looked like, so he wasn’t worried about accidentally pulling up the mint with it.

He was so focused on his work that he didn’t hear anything until there was a yowl behind him. He fell on his backside he was so startled.

There was a calico cat standing in the gravel path giving him a sour look.

“Shiro only mentioned two cats,” Keith frowned at her, “so who are you?”

He held his hand out for the cat to sniff, but she flattened her ears and hissed at him.

“Be that way,” Keith pulled his hand back, “I don’t care. Just don’t get in my way.”

He went back to pulling weeds. He finished the mint and moved onto the rosemary border that ran along the path. The path ran through the square garden, wrapping around a circular planter bed full or weeds in the middle and continuing out away from the building. The side of the path across from the rosemary was bordered with the scraggly remains of lavender, although most of it had been choked out by weeds.

Gravel shifted behind him, and Keith glanced over to see the calico sitting down staring at him, tail flicking in slow irritation. He huffed and went back to work.

The sun was warm on his back, and the soil was still damp from yesterday’s rain, but it had drained enough to not clump around his finger. It felt good to be using his hands, to have dirt under his nails. As the sun warmed the beds, he could smell the rosemary and mint. This was a good place to be; he knew exactly what needed to be done here, and he could do it.

There was more shifting, and Keith looked up to find the cat had moved closer before flopping on her side on the sun warmed gravel.

“Lazy,” he teased and went back to work before she could decide she didn’t want to be watched.

Keith worked his way steadily down the border. His hair started to stick to his face, and he wished he had pulled it back or brought a bandana, but he could manage. Garden gloves probably would have helped, too. He liked the feel of dirt on his hands, but some of the weeds were prickly. Maybe one of those long things with the fork at the end… what were they called? Weeders? Dandelion diggers? And a bucket…

Something touched him and he jumped. The calico cat meowed, startled away from where she had been sniffing Keith’s arm.

“Sorry,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held still, and she came back to sniff at him again, then rubbed along his back with a brief purr and went to lay in another patch of sunlight.

Keith smiled and started working on the path itself. From time to time, he would catch the calico lifting her head to watch him, as if to make sure he was still there and doing what he was suppost to.

It was nice company, actually. Quiet and undemanding. He could work with a clear goal in mind and no one to bother him, and the cat could be a cat.

“There you are.”

Keith had no idea how long he had been pulling weeds, but when he straightened to look up at Shiro, his back ached.

“And you found a friend,” Shiro grinned down at him.

The calico hissed and jumped to her feet, making sure they knew she didn’t approve of the uninvited company. She bound over one of the beds and disappeared into the tall grass.

“Sorry,” Shiro rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to scare her.”

“She’ll be back, eventually,” Keith waved a hand absently, still staring in the direction the cat had gone.

“It’s past lunch time, and Allura is here,” Shiro offered him a hand, “come get washed up, and we’ll all go grab something to eat.”

Keith looked down at his hands, the dirt ground into the creases of his palms, the faint green tint on his fingertips, then back up at Shiro.

“I’ll stay and help you get everything fixed up,” he took the offered hand.

“Good,” Shiro pulled him up and into a side hug, “I need all the help I can get.”

Shiro kept his arm around Keith as they headed back to the building, but Keith stole a last glance over his shoulder and spotted the cat peeking out at them.

Today was a good day just to be, and maybe tomorrow would be too