#i think i probably wouldn’t take the time to dive in

[ahappydnp]

the thing about dan is if he got famous now as a solo creator people would think he was sooo mysterious and impossible to get close to but we literally can’t see him that way bc he spent 10 years being the sweet boy making people feel at ease and putting stickers on his face with his 4000 year old tortoise bestie he shares a braincell with

[lifetimeoftired]

How to adopt a dead kid in three weeks or less

It's midnight and I'm hopped up on that ADHD juice. Been thinking on and off about this prompt and how things play out. Might clean this up for ao3 posting later but whatever.

Part 1 || Part 2

____

Danny can feel the weight of their stares like it’s physical. A last mournful glance at his pancakes- Actually no, fuck it. He grabs the last one from his plate, flashes the whole Wayne family a peace sign, and turns invisible. The pancake is eaten as he dashes out the door and away from the shouting and chaos he leaves the family in.

 -

“Where the FUCK did he go!?” Jason’s shout somehow made it above the din of the others- and got Bruce and Dick yelling ‘language’ back at him. The pricks.

“I say! Watch your tone Master Jason! As for the rest of you-” The whole family shut the immediate fuck up when Alfred speaks. His displeased expression more than enough to cow them into submission. “I expect you to clean up after yourselves today and a quiet trip to the batcave to find our new ward. Master Jason, you will be taking care of Master Danny’s plates, and I will hear of an apology from you for scaring that poor boy.”

There’s a chorus of ‘yes Alfred’ from the chastised bats, but Bruce- carefully mind you- presses.

“Alfred, how long has he been here? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The young master has been staying for the past three weeks sir. And despite my best attempts, I have not yet been able to convince him to sleep in his own room.”

Bruce groans and rubs at his face before turning back to his other children, “Nobody thought to tell me!?”

The kids all look at each other, and then back at him with the most judgmental ‘are you serious’ looks they can muster. Except Cassandra, who very excitedly signs; New brother! All Bruce can do is sigh into his hands.

“We’ll discuss this later-”

“Why didn’t you notice then old man?” Jason grins, a little feral at Bruce’s dirty look but sue him.

“Okay okay, let’s hurry up and get this place cleaned up. There’s no telling how far Danny got- and the sooner we go after him the sooner we figure out what’s going on.” Dick said, quickly gathering his own plate. 

“And the sooner I can get all of you presents.” The entire family stops. Staring at Jason in shock. “Only the finest ‘World’s best detective’ mugs for all of you!” 

The groan he gets from all of them is perfect.

-

“I cannot believe you didn’t think to tell me either!” Batman scolds Oracle later. 

Everyone is out in force. Even Batwoman, Batwing, and Bluebird (after having a good laugh at Batman’s expense) had joined. They had all been searching for Danny the better part of the day. Batman had even agreed to let Red Robin and Robin join the search and skip school. That’s how seriously the kids knew he was taking this. And how important it was for one of them to get to Danny before Batman scared him off for good with his infamous paranoia.

“If you didn’t notice, that one’s on you Batman.” God Jason really loved Barbara sometimes. 

“Oracle would not have allowed a dangerous individual into our midst. She is thorough when it comes to such things.” Robin is moving fast, probably swinging right behind Batman. No doubt headed east where the nicer areas were and any sane person was bound to head.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, baby bat.”

“O, you wouldn’t happen to have a new update on Danny’s whereabouts would you? Or anything from his past?” Nightwing cuts in after Robin’s little ‘Tt’. He’s somewhere near the border to Bludhaven, in case Danny’s making it out that way.

“Nothing Nightwing.” They can hear her frustration, and concern, through the voice modulator. “The kid’s practically a ghost. All I can tell you is that he’s not from Gotham. What little I can find of his time here in Gotham is some security feeds of dumpster diving and sleeping on a bench.”

“He’s also definitely a meta.” Signal mutters, somewhere to the west and near the coast..

Jason remains quiet and lets them all talk. As funny as it is- and holy shit Jason will never let any of them live this down ever- it is a little strange this random kid would just... Show up out of nowhere. Meta or not. Alfred said he wouldn’t sleep in a bed of his own, but he also hadn’t left until after Jason questioned his existence. This ‘Danny’ had been around the manor, the bats coming and going, for weeks. He could’ve found out their secrets, and even if he hadn’t sold them out yet, there’s no telling who might pick him up and drag those secrets out of him. Or worse, if he was sent here by someone, then they needed to find out who. And fast…

….

Ugh. He sounded like Batman.

“Hey guys, how well do you even know Danny?” Jason pulls over near an abandoned apartment building. Cutting the engine to his bike to hear them all better. “He was there for a few weeks, pick up anything on him? Might help us figure out where he ran off to.” That last bit was added as an afterthought, not wanting to be too paranoid, but it was also true.

“I know how this is going to sound, but uh, well, he does seem really nice actually.” Signal helpfully offers. “Dick and I ran into Danny I think not long after he got there?”

“O’s camera feed tells us Danny arrived at the manor 28 days ago, Thursday night 11:38 PM. Looking at the records, he was picked up prior to that in front of Wayne Enterprises by one of our drivers- Archer Tenson. He’s reliable and honest, no record of any sort that would make him a suspect of subterfuge.” Nightwing rattles off the information pretty calmly, but they all know him well enough to hear the concern. “According to the records, he was going to pick up the caffeine addict after the cafe got an alert of his fourth Death Latte-” They all ignored Red Robin’s little ‘hey!’, “-and dropped him off safely at home.”

“Red Robin.” Batman’s parental disapproval was palpable through the comms. 

“There wasn’t a fourth Death Latte!” Red Robin protested from his place in the batcave. Aiding in the digital search and combing over the camera feeds over the past few weeks for any information about Danny. “The third Death Latte was the last one. An Alert at W.E. was the plan the whole night. Nobody made it back to the manor until sunrise and the cafe kept saying there wasn’t any more coffee and-!” He gasped, horrified! Outraged! And the rest were left to hold their snickers as Red Robin said, “He stole my last coffee!”

“That’s right, Danny said he was a caffeine addict too.” Batwing mused. Probably flying somewhere over the more open suburbia in case Danny was trying to make a break out of the city that way.

“Wait when did you meet Danny?” Spoiler asked- Jason knew she was patrolling nearby with Bluebird. Those two, Orphan and Signal were the only ones who were allowed to come close to Crime Alley. Mainly because they annoyed Jason the least, but also because they understood how bad the streets could get and looked the other way better than the others. Signal surprised him about that one.

“Start from the beginning.” Batman orders. “Nightwing, Signal, you met Danny when?”

“Looking back, it was actually the day after he got there it sounds like.” Signal sighs. “I was headed downstairs for breakfast, and saw Dick in one of the sitting rooms. I thought I saw our caffeine addict passed out on the couch and thought dick was going to wake him, so I went in to help…”

[hoshifighting]

I’ve always thought about this but, how would seventeen react to you faking your orgasm

seungcheol “wait, what?” he’ll say, eyebrows furrowing as he pulls back, looking at you like you just pulled the rug out from under him. “are you serious right now?” he’s not mad, but you can see that competitive side of him flare up. he wants to know if he’s not doing something right. “come on, babe, you gotta be honest with me. if you’re not there, tell me so i can fix it.” he’s the type to take it to heart. seungcheol wants to please you, and if he thinks he’s not, it hits him hard. but if he realizes you’re playing with him, oh, you’d better believe he’ll turn it around. “you think you can fake it with me? nah, i know you better than that. now let’s see you really enjoy it.” and from there he’ll definitely give you a show, making sure you feel every bit of pleasure until you can’t help but give in for real.

jeonghan “let’s see if you can keep that up, hmm?” he’ll definitely ramp it up, hitting all the right spots, making sure you’re squirming and gasping for real this time. jeonghan knows how to play the game, and he’s determined to make you admit you’re enjoying it. “really? you think i wouldn’t notice?” he’d tease, the corner of his mouth lifting. “you’re cute, but come on, babe. you gotta do better than that.” he’d be so amused, finding it kind of funny that you’d even try to pull that on him, jeonghan isn’t one to let that slide. he’ll take it as a challenge.

joshua’s the type to notice the little things, so when he catches on that you’re not being completely honest, his brows would furrow a bit. “wait, why are you… faking it?” he’d ask, his voice soft, but there’s a hint of disbelief in it. “did i do something wrong?” he’d sound genuinely worried, because the last thing he wants is for you to not enjoy yourself. if you tell him it's because you wanted him to do this or that, like speed up; “you know, if you wanted me to go harder, all you had to do was ask baby.”

junhui’d be totally thrown off. “huh? wait, you didn’t…” he’d stammer, pausing to look at you, his brows knitting together. he’d be a bit hurt at first, like, did he not make you feel good enough? “are you okay? did i mess up?” but then, as you explain, you’d catch a glimpse of that funny side of him coming out. “oh, so you just wanted to see me work for it?” he’d tease, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “well, now i’m gonna make sure you feel it, every inch of it.”

hoshi hears that little moan you let out, and he pauses, tilting his head like a puppy. “babe?” he’d ask, a little breathless, his brows raised. “did you just…?” when you finally confess, he’d burst into laughter, his bright smile lighting up the room. “ya! you little sneak!” he’d tease, shaking his head. “you’re lucky i love a challenge.” he’d dive right back in, he’d ramp it up, making sure to work you up until you’re genuinely moaning for him.

wonwoo’s usually pretty observant, so when he hears that breathy fake moan, he raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look at you. “really? is that how it’s gonna be?” he chuckles. and then he’d hit you with those slow, deep thrusts, a wicked smile on his face as he watches you squirm. “come on, give me the real thing this time,” he’d tease, stimulation you where he cans, tits, clit, neck.

woozi’d pause for a second, giving you that signature eyebrow raise, looking way too cute to be caught off guard. “no, you didnt.” he’d frown, trying to process what just happened. “you can’t just go around faking it like that. let’s see how long you can keep that act up. i’ll make you cum so hard that faking it won’t even cross your mind.” makes you double tired.

minghao'd know exactly when you're faking it, that sharp intuition of his kicking in right away. he'd probably play along at first, all smug and calm. “is that how you really want to do this?” he’d chuckle, making sure you know he’s about to make it impossible to fake anything next time, drawing it out until you're absolutely ruined.

mingyu would take it personally. if you fake it, he’d definitely pout for a second, confused. “did i… not do it right?” but once he gets over the initial hit to his ego, he'd go all in to prove a point. “you won’t have to fake it next time, trust me,” he’d mutter, then absolutely rail you until there's no mistaking how good he’s making you feel.

seokmin would probably be a combination of adorably flustered and a little offended. “wait, really? you faked it?” he’d sound almost hurt but would quickly turn it into a challenge. “no way i’m letting you get away with that.” he'd get serious real quick, making sure you’re not faking anything next time, putting in extra effort just to hear you scream his name for real.

seungkwan omg, seungkwan would be so dramatic about it! “you WHAT?!” he'd be half in disbelief, half ready to give you a lecture on honesty. but deep down, it’d spark his competitive side, and he'd be determined to make you feel it all the way. “okay, no more faking. i’ll make sure of that,” and then he’d put in work to have you trembling for real next time.

vernon would be the most chill about it, but he’d definitely call you out. “wait… did you just fake that? i mean why would you—” he’d ask, eyebrows raised. “nah, we’re not doing that again,” he'd say in his low, calm voice, all serious, before starting to pound into your again, reaching for your clit, or your weak spots, working harder so you don't act it.

chan would know exactly what’s up. with his own praise kink, he’d catch on quick if you weren’t really into it, and he’d take it as a confront. “oh, you wanna fake it with me?” he'd smirk, his hands gripping your hips harder. “lemme show you what it feels like to really cum.” he'd flip the script, making sure he works you over until faking it isn’t even an option.

[sillywizardman]

HI!!! After finishing Disco Elysium I wanted to read Sacred and Terrible Air, but there were two issues:

1. It’s not officially released in English

2. I don’t like staring at pdfs!

So I did what any sane person would do. That is take three days of my life printing and binding it.

TRANSLATION (“thank you Group Ibex” we all say in unison!):

PROCESS PICS:

I apologize in advance for anyone who has experience in this sort of thing this is so botched.

I have NEVER done anything like this before, I don’t even read books on my own volition, but if the Disco fixation wants me to learn how to sew and bookbind I’ll do that.

Four of the signatures above. There were nine total, eight of them with 8 sheets/32 pages and the last was five sheets I think. Threw the pdf into adobe acrobat and went straight to printing with those settings and the “booklet” option enabled.

Pricked holes through each signature! Used thumbtacks and a piece of foam I scavenged from my room, worked out great. It’s probably also worth mentioning I do not have a bone folder, book press, or any of the other fancy schmancy bookbinding tools. Flattened the pages with a pencil and pressed with D&D books…

SEWING TIME. I have never sewn in my life. My success in this regard can be majorly attributed to Sea Lemon on youtube, particularly this tutorial:

The process from printing to finishing sewing the signatures took ~8 hours. Now we hit our first roadblock, I had no glue for the spine! After going to sleep and waiting what felt like ages (literally 10 hours or so) before I was free to visit a craft store, I tried to find PVA glue because that’s what you’re supposed to use I think?? Yeah. They were out of PVA glue and my impatient ass got mod podge.

‘Tis glued! As you can see I added cardstock to the ends. Joyous day.

Also, you see that sketchbook in the pic? Yeah? You see that lovely cardboard?

It is now the cover. Rest in piss bristol sketchpad backing.

———

EDIT: I see a bunch of people want to attempt this so here’s a video on how to make the hardcover: https://youtu.be/Av_rU-yOPd4?si=7T5zgVJGAfPFBxn-

I didn’t use any measurements or advice from it but it’s a good reference for when it comes to assembling the cover from ~3:50 onwards. The boards are same size as your text block pages and spine, I think I made the cover width a bit longer just in case it doesn’t cover the text block though. Do not do this with the spine, I regret it.

And note, this is NOT a tutorial, it is the process of someone who got a bit too silly and decided to bind a book, obviously do your own research lol. Don’t be afraid to try it though, it’s surprisingly simple!

———

… So, now that’s done! I swore to myself I wouldn’t start reading SATA/PJÕL until I finished this project completely, meaning I’ll be doing that now yippee :]

[imaginedanvrs]

cancer's a bitch

masterlist

natasha romanoff x reader

2.3k words

warnings: reader has cancer and there's no happy ending. major character death

summary: at a time you need her the most, Natasha is nowhere to be found

“The results came back positive. I’m sorry. The next steps will be to start…” You couldn’t hear anything past that. It became white noise to the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, an instant emphasis of your ebbing mortality. 

  You knew about all the treatments your doctor was trying to explain to you, you had been on a deep dive down the web about them every night since you first went seeking help about your suspicions. Now that they were confirmed, you wondered who you should tell first. How could you even begin to find the words to tell anyone that you had cancer? 

  That was all you could think about on the journey home. Natasha would be there and you weren’t sure whether to tell her outright or wait for the right time. You wouldn’t know how much of that you had until you knew how your body took to the treatment. Best case scenario, the chemo would nip it in the bud and never return. It would be a thing of the past before you could fully process it as a terrifying present. Worst case scenario… Well, it didn’t do to think about it. 

  You needed to talk to Natasha. 

  When you finally got home, your heart plummeted further at the sight of your girlfriend packing. You knew that the frantic nature she took to grabbing items meant that she had been called on a last minute mission and that it was probably urgent. You also knew that she could be gone for some time. It could be weeks - weeks you would spend relaying the difficult conversation in your head. Weeks you could spend without her there to comfort you in your crushing fear for your life. 

  “Hey, babe,” you greeted as you hung up your jacket. If her mind wasn’t so preoccupied with work she would have asked where you’d been. 

  “Hi. Sorry I know we had plans tomorrow but I’ve been called away,” Natasha told you without looking your way, too focused on filling her bag as quickly as possible. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched the redhead for a moment, debating whether or not to ask her not to go. You had never done that before, nothing had been that important. 

  “You think you could skip? I need to talk to you,” you muttered, threading your fingers together to stop them trembling. 

  “I can’t skip a mission for a date, detka,” Natasha huffed. You swallowed. 

  “It’s not that,” you said with a forced chuckle. “I’ve just been to the-”

  “Y/n, I need to go,” she told you pointedly. 

  “There are other agents.” You didn’t mean it to sound like a plea, to sound like a child trying to convince their parents not to leave them on the first day of school. 

  “It’s important,” Natasha said, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “There are things going on that you don’t understand.” That hurt. 

  “Natasha please,” you tried, not caring how desperate you sounded. Still, she continued for the door. Maybe if she had looked at you properly instead of kissing your cheek in passing, she would have seen the worry written over your features in bold. “Please don’t go.” 

  “I love you, I’ll see you soon,” she called over her shoulder.

  “I love you too but I-” you were cut off by the apartment door closing in your face. “I’m not well,” you whispered. She was already gone. 

*

There were numerous people you could have called to pick you up from your first round of treatment. It was also highly recommended. You were exhausted, but taking a taxi home was the easiest solution, because it meant you didn’t have to tell anyone where you were.

  It had been a couple weeks since your diagnosis and Natasha still wasn’t home. You still weren’t sure how to approach the subject with anyone you knew, counting on your girlfriend to hold your hand through the process. But she wasn’t there by your side and she wasn’t there to take you home. 

  Wanda would have been a good person to tell. She was the kind of friend who would drop everything to be with you when you needed her. She would have picked you up. She would have pulled over to hug you when you began to cry silently in the back of the taxi. She would have figured out a way to call Natasha home but she couldn’t…because she was imprisoned. 

  The battle of Leipzig airport hit the news by storm, as did everything that followed. Half were imprisoned and the rest were either on the run or playing lap dogs to the government, leaving you alone. Upon hearing that your girlfriend was an outlaw, you were able to piece together that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a long time. Nor would you see your friends. You were deserted. 

  You collapsed over the toilet once you were home, bringing up the contents of your stomach as your weakened knees groaned in protest from the impact. They were already bad - your legs - having been the area the cancer was attacking, but every short track you made seemed to make the pain worse. So much so that you were tempted to let the exhaustion overtake you on that very bathroom floor. You just wanted to close your eyes in hopes of having a short break from your reality. 

  Instead, with a small whimper, you forced yourself up and towards the bedroom. The sheets didn’t smell like Natasha because you had had to wash them a few days prior. You had sprayed some of her perfume on her side of the bed but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t her. Still, you clung to her pillow as if it was, imagining her strong arms wrapping around your frame tenderly. She always protected you in your weakest moments, except that one. Except the worst. 

  Weeks turned into months and things became considerably harder. The pain was progressing with the cancer, working its way deep into your bones despite the aggressive treatment you had. At the start, a bad day was not being able to make it into work. After months, a bad day was not being able to get out of bed. The treatment wasn’t working. 

  “We need to operate,” your doctor told you. You peered at the frown lines along his forehead, wondering how many people he had given that news to before you. How many people had sat in the chair you were in, listening to the doctor tell them their body was failing to fight off a biological evil? Were their loved ones sitting in that office with them, occupying the empty seat next to you? Were they waiting outside? Were they a phone call away? You should call your parents. Nothing buried the hatchet like telling your parents you were dying, right? 

  You didn’t want them though, you wanted Natasha, wherever she may be. She could be dead. Perhaps if she was, you would be together sooner than it would take for her to come out of hiding to see you just once. You didn’t want that. You weren’t that selfish. You hoped she was okay, better than you at least. But you were selfish enough to wish she would come see you, just once. It would be dangerous, stupidly reckless. There were no doubt eyes on your home at all times, waiting for Natasha to come back for you. That was why she couldn’t come. Yet you still couldn’t help but think fuck the risk, please just come hold my hand. 

  That was all you could think as you were wheeled into surgery and when the mask was placed over your face. You didn’t wish for success or recovery. You wished for her. You were naive to even try. She wasn’t there when you woke up and even though you hadn’t expected her to be, it still hurt to see the visitor chair next to your bed empty. You weren’t desperate for company, if you were you would have called your parents. You had always prided yourself on handling things on your own, even the burdens you could share with others. So no, you didn’t want sympathy, cards, flowers or visitors. You didn’t even care that you still had to get a taxi home instead of having someone waiting for you in their car. You just wanted a text from your girlfriend, to know that she was still out there somewhere thinking of you - caring about you. 

  Even after a year, you refused to give up on the dream Natasha would some day come home. You still celebrated your anniversary. You celebrated her birthday. You placed a present under the small tree for her on Christmas, leaving it there even after you took the tree down. You left the first aid kit on the windowsill in the bathroom. You always made sure there was a fresh pb&j sandwich on the kitchen counter when you went to bed. Even when keeping the apartment clean and tidy became too difficult for you, you ensured that anything Natasha might need, should she come home, be out ready for her. 

  After two years, your doctor refused to continue your treatment. It was causing internal bleeds. It was stripping you of energy you didn’t have to start with. It made you sick. You were entering stage four, something that didn’t always mean you were approaching the end of the road. But in your case, you were. 

  Then, finally, you received a text. 

  Unknown number: new jersey, tmrw. I’ll send you an address once you land -n

  You blinked at your phone. You weren’t going to make it downstairs, never mind to the airport. There was a high chance Natasha had destroyed the phone as soon as she sent the message, but you had to at least try and find a way to say what you needed to. 

  Me: goodnight, see you in the morning :) 

  It was code, something you had come up with years ago. It was a text you had always dreaded receiving but had never pictured yourself sending. Why would you? Your girlfriend was the spy who’s life was always in danger in some sense, yet it was you preparing for what would come next. 

  You closed your eyes, content in the fact you had managed to say goodbye in some sense. It wasn’t the way you wanted, but it was better than nothing. 

  You awoke, two days later, to the sound of your window being opened. You opened your eyes but couldn’t raise your eyelids more than half way, adding to the poor visibility the night time provided. You only saw the figure when it moved, but you weren’t alarmed by the presence of something unknown no matter what it could mean. You hoped it meant you weren’t going to be alone when you went, no one deserved that. 

  “Y/n,” Natasha’s name pierced through the room. Your breath hitched in your throat but you were unable to answer. Your throat was sore and you hadn't had a drink in a long time. You didn’t have the strength to grab the glass on your bedside table. 

  Natasha turned the lamp and you really wished she didn’t. You didn’t know what you looked like, but the last time you saw your reflection you were greeted with someone you didn’t know. Would Natasha see it that way? Wonder where her girlfriend had gone? She had always been an expert on concealing her emotions, but her shock then was clear. Not just that, she was scared. You knew that feeling all too well. It had taken her place as the one constant in your life. 

  “What…are…” She was at a loss for words, you noted. She took a tentative step that allowed her to be close enough to see the tears brimming in her eyes. God, you always loved those emerald eyes. 

  Natasha brought the glass up to your lips and you managed two sips before turning your head away. “What do I do?” She asked, voice shaking. Your hand managed to find hers, linking them together with the intention of never letting go until you had taken your last breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, squeezing your hand. You managed a smile. “I love you so much.”

  “Love you.” There was so much more you wanted to say. How much you missed her, how you had waited for her to come home. You wanted to rush her out of the apartment under the fear she would be caught, but you also wanted to tell her that you had been hanging on for her, keeping the grim reaper outside your door until you were ready to take his hand. 

  “God I…” Natasha also had a lot she wanted to say. She wanted to tell you how not a single day went by where she didn’t want to come running home or at least send a text. How she regretted ever joining a battle that seemed so insignificant in comparison to you laying there. She wanted to tell you about her family and how much she had told them about you and that they had even promised to keep an eye on you as she continued on the run. She wanted to tell you that she was going to be at a loss without you, but seeing the exhaustion on your face, she didn’t want to keep you from your rest any longer. You had waited long enough for her. 

  “It’s okay. You can go now. I love you so much and I’ll never stop loving you. You’ve done so well and I’m so proud, you can go to sleep now.”

  Natasha didn’t want you to see her cry. It took all of her will power to hold it back until the final rise and fall of your chest. She bit back a sob, watching the light in your eyes finally dim so that they could take their place among the stars.

[lyjen]

I Called

Summary: When (Y/n) goes out to do a business check on a Self Storage building, she ends up getting attacked. Due to a technical difficulty the radio of (Y/n) remains on, so everyone including her boyfriend and brother can hear what is happening.

Request by: @shauna-carsley

Next Chapter >> | 9-1-1 masterlist

Taglist: I was thinking of starting a taglist, so if you want to be tagged leave a comment or tell me in “Ask me a question”!

______

(Y/n) clicked her flashlight on as she pointed it towards the entrance of the self storage units. She stepped onto the concrete stairs and let her eyes investigate the garage door, which was still wide open in the middle of the night. Her eye fell on the door, which was held open by a small piece of wood, just enough to keep the door in its place. She slowly made her way off the concrete stairs, and approached the open door.

“Dispatch 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage, doing a business check” (Y/n) spoke over the radio. She grabbed her pistol out of her holster and let her right wrist rest on her left wrist so she would still be able to use her flashlight and gun at the same time. “Copy 442-L23” The voice of the dispatcher sounded through the radio, which was clipped to her uniform.

She took a deep breath, her stomach was filling itself with anxiety. Something that always happened when she would walk into a creepy building, without lights or backup. But that was something that gave her a kick, being a cop kinda felt like being on drugs. Yes, it could be intense, but whenever you let go of your feelings and dive right into the action it’d give her such a rush.

With her right foot, she kicked the metal door open and shone her flashlight together with the gun into the dark hallway of the storage unit building. Thanks to her flashlight, it revealed a staircase, the door she just walked through was probably an emergency exit, which was connected to the fire staircase.

(Y/n) shone her light towards the left, which revealed another door, with a small emergency light on. She stepped onto the metal staircase and made herself go through the door frame.

The small hallway she slowly walked through revealed a deep dark hall with countless small garage doors on the side.

Slowly but determined (Y/n) continued her steps into the storage unit building. As she turns to the right, footsteps of someone running are sounding through the space she’s in. There’s another hallway full with more storage units, but no one to be seen.

For one quick moment, she closes her eyes, trying to calm herself down. She can hear her own heart beating in her chest of adrenaline, the pounding sounds of her heart are racing through her eardrums. “You can do this.” she tries to encourage herself, inside her head so she wouldn’t give away her position.

Focussed on every step and breath she takes, she quietly walks further and further into the property. Checking every inch of the building, looking for any differences. The walls were full with small garage doors with locks.

When she entered another hallway, she pointed her flashlight to the right, as an unfamiliarity popped up into the sequence. There wasn’t a storage unit. She aimed the flashlight along with her gun at the unfamiliarity. There was some kind of little living area. There was a bed, a bike, a sleeping bag, and a construction lamp which was switched on.

Someone was living there. Maybe even hiding. (Y/n) was pretty sure it had to be connected to her case, as well as the running footsteps she heard about a minute ago.

Now it was time to call for backup.

(Y/n) locked her flashlight under her right armpit so she could radio dispatch. “Dispatch 442-L23, I’m gonna need backup and detectives dispatched to Studio Self Storage. I have a possible-” She couldn’t even finish her sentence or she felt a pair of hands pushing her into one wall she was standing next to. A loud groan fell from her lips as her body connected with the storage unit door.

She tries to push the person away with her strength but she gets pushed back into the door.

“442-L23, do you copy?”

The person behind her grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled it so her head was now looking up. A high pitched yelp leaves her mouth, and she receives a fist to the right side of her face. With a force her head was pulled back and pushed into the concrete wall.

“442-L23, please respond.”

Another scream came through the radio as her face hit the wall.

“Officer needs help. 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage”

(Y/n) gathers all her strength and pushes her body as hard as she can into the attacker’s body. The attacker stumbled back into the other wall behind him. She yanks her left elbow with a force, multiple times into the side of his body. But he roughly grabs her shoulder, pushes her to the side and pins her into the wall.

“All units, police and fire RA, clear channel two”

Evan closed the hatch of the truck as he put back the halligan and walked towards his team who were standing at the ambulance, putting the gurney into the back of it. “Switch to Tac channel 50. Officer on open mic in distress.” The voice of Maddie broke through the radio. “Needs assistance. 442-L23 at Studio Self Storage”

Evan just came to a stop, as he felt the back of Eddie’s hand harshly tapping against his chest. Evan’s eyes connected with his as he realized what his sister had just said through the radio. “Buck. Isn’t that…-” Eddie starts, “(Y/n)” Evan finishes his brother-in-law's sentence. Evan’s eyes grew wide, his stomach turned and his veins filled themselves with adrenaline.

“Take him to the hospital and everyone else, on the engine, now, let’s go! ” Bobby spoke over the scene. Before Bobby could even finish his order, Evan sprinted towards the engine, hopped in and threw one of the headphones onto his head. The rest of his team quickly jumped in too and they drove away with squealing tires.

Evan tries his best to remain calm, his foot starts tapping towards the metal floor of the fire engine. His elbows lean onto his thighs as he lets his head hang between his thighs and his fingers intertwine on the back of his head. Evan can feel his heart racing, like it was almost trying to break free from his chest. He was suffering in silence.

Meanwhile Eddie looked out of the window, watching buildings, houses and cars go by in a flash. The sound of his sister getting tortured was awful, it’s something you wouldn’t wish for your worst enemy to hear. Now and then Eddie would glance at Evan, seeing if he was doing okay, it was his best friend after all. Another yelp fell from his sister’s mouth through the headphones.

“Cap, they're telling us to switch to tac 50.” Chimney reminds Bobby. When Bobby reached out his hand, ready to switch the channel. Eddie’s voice sounded over the headphones. “No. Leave it on” Eddie takes a look at Evan who was still deadly focussed on the sound through the radio. Bobby looked over his shoulder as he shared looks between Evan and Eddie but nodded at his request.

Evan was torturing himself by listening to every single sound that came through his headset, but he had to listen to it. To let himself know that he’d be there any minute, any second to help her. He had to listen, so he wouldn’t get the feeling he’d leave her alone. He was with her, even if it was through the radio and she couldn’t hear a thing and was fighting for her life.

Evan knew (Y/n) was stubborn. She knew Evan was worried whenever she was on shift. He knew she was so stubborn, that she would sometimes not call for backup. She had pulled these kinds of stunts multiple times. They’ve had arguments over not calling for backup. But she would just say “But I'm okay! I’m here!” It was just a matter of time when it would go wrong. And today was the day he had feared the most.

**

“It’s insane! You’re insane! You know you needed to call for backup and you ignored it.” Evan paced through the room. “Yeah but, I’m still here! Alive and well!” (Y/n) said as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “That’s not the point. The point is, what if you got shot? Nobody would’ve known.”

**

Scenes from arguments that happened weeks ago, flashed through his mind. With every scream, every groan, every punch and push he heard, Evan closed his eyes even tighter.

Once again, the person grabs her hair and launches her into the concrete. (Y/n)’s body bounced against the concrete, she could taste the blood dripping from her lip. She tries to turn her body around so she could face the attacker and use her gun. But he pins her against the wall, as well as her right arm which she was holding her gun in. He punches her wrist against the concrete, due to the shocking pain of her wrist connecting with the concrete she lets go of her gun. Dropping it to the ground.

He grabs her arm and snaps it backwards. An ear deafening scream sounds through the building as she literally hears the bone snap. She feels how the bottom of the attacker’s shoe connected with the back of her knee as he kicked it. She lost balance on her right leg, so she tumbled to the ground and a loud cry fell from her lips.

Her body gets forced onto the ground by the power of his hands. (Y/n) falls face down onto the floor. In panic she starts touching the floor, looking for her gun with her only available hand that was working.

She could feel the man’s body standing over her, ready to throw another punch. But as soon as her hand found her gun, she turned around and pulled the trigger twice, not really thinking where she was aiming at.

A scream sounded through the storage unit halls. One bullet went into the guy’s leg and the other one went beside his ear. The attacker lost balance, fell down onto his left knee which was injured now and screamed from the top of his lungs. (Y/n) pushed herself up with her non injured hand as she put her gun back into her holster. (Y/n) wanted to stand up to her legs, but then she realized her right leg wasn’t doing what she wanted, it was twitching. So she had to crawl her way to the man’s body.

The man was so busy with his hearing and his gunshot wound to the leg, that he didn’t notice (Y/n) crawling to him. She pushed the man in his back with a force so he was now with his stomach to the ground. (Y/n) grabbed one of his hands and cuffed him to the closest pipeline she could find. He wasn’t going to get away with this. She chose to cuff him to the pipeline with one hand, because she didn’t have the power to hold him down on her own. Her right arm was broken and she dislocated her right knee.

Her world was spinning, all those hits to her head made her head feel fuzzy. As she cuffed him to the pipeline, (Y/n) tries to crawl as far away from him as she could. But after ten or twelve pushes towards the exit, she couldn’t find any more energy. She stopped crawling, and turned onto her back so she was facing the ceiling now. Trying to catch a proper breath, her vision started to reveal black and white spots. Her eyelids became heavier by the second, but she had to hold on. She had to stay awake, but it was difficult with the swellings that were appearing on her face.

It felt like they were on their way for hours, maybe even days before the truck finally pulled to a stop. The street was filled with police cars and blue and red lights colored the building walls. Evan threw off his headphones and jumped out of the door.

“Sir the building is not clear” he can hear an officer calling after him when he sprinted into the building. He had to know if she was okay, he knew his team would get the right tools and equipment with them when they would go inside.

With the flashlight attached to his chest on his jacket, he ran through every dark hallway, until he saw a crowded hallway filled with officers. That was it.

He didn’t run this time, he basically speed walked into the room. Evan’s eyes fell on the man who was cuffed to the pipeline, his eyes squinted at the bright light Evan’s chest was carrying. But the cops weren’t surrounding the man, they were surrounding someone else.

Evan could hear multiple footsteps entering the hall he was standing in. “Captain Nash, she’s here” one of the officers sounded when his eyes fell on the captain of the 118. The officers made room for the team to assess their colleague.

“Oh my god” Evan mumbled to himself as his eyes locked on his girlfriend’s body, lying down on the ground, completely beaten up. Evan dropped down to his knees, next to (Y/n) as he put his arms underneath her shoulder blades. He carefully removed some strands of hair from her face, which were sticking to the wounds. “(Y/n) Can you hear me?” his voice sounded broken.

“Can you hear me?” he repeated one more time, trying to get (Y/n) to open her eyes. Weakly, her eyelids parted, but the black eye she got made it difficult for her. “Buck?” she whispered. “Yeah baby I’m here! I’m here!” he panted, his heart was still racing so hard, it almost felt like he was having a heart attack.

A tear left both her eyes. “I.. I called. I c-called for b-backup.” She cried. “I know,” Evan said, as he bit his lip, trying to stay strong. “You did so good” he continued, and reeled her into his chest.

She cries as she lets her left hand slip onto his back, trying to get him even closer than he already was. It almost felt like she wanted to merge into him. Evan could feel the way she cried into his skin, the tears that dripped onto his navy blue shirt. The quiet huffs she let out, almost sounded like she was hyperventilating, the breaths were ticking his skin.

“You’re okay. You’re safe now” he breathed into her hair as he pressed a kiss onto the back of her head.

A hand fell onto Evan’s shoulder. “Buck, we need to check her.” Eddie’s voice spoke as he tightly squeezed his shoulder, an attempt to comfort him. Evan pulled back from the embrace and slowly helped her body get back on the ground again. He wasn’t going to leave her, so he moved from the side of (Y/n) to take place above her head, trying to keep her awake.

“I need the backboard and the gurney in here, cap” Hen tells Bobby. Bobby nods at her request and taps Chimney on the shoulder, as a sign to help him and get it.

Eddie knew the rules of standing back when you’re too personally involved in this. But he wanted to work on his sister. Especially after this incident, he had to let her know he would be there for her. Bobby knew telling him he couldn’t treat his sister wouldn’t stop him. He would do it anyway.

Eddie and Hen took place each on one side of (Y/n)’s body. Eddie carefully placed his gloved hand onto her cheek as he checked her pupils with the little light he got from the medic bag. “Pupils are equal and reactive” her brother spoke as he switched the light off and put it back into the bag.

Evan was holding both his hands beside (Y/n)’s head, as he felt a hand searching the back of his hand. (Y/n)’s left hand was searching his hand. Evan took her hand into his hands and pressed a kiss onto her skin.

Evan noticed the way she squeezed her eyes closed, she was in pain. “Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?” Evan asked as he let his eyes scan her body. “M-My leg.. my l-leg!” She whined. “(Y/n) I know it hurts, but you have to stay still okay?” Eddie tried to calm down his sister, as she started kicking with her left leg, while her right leg stayed perfectly still. Eddie grabbed a scissor out of the bag, Eddie’s eyes connected with Hen’s as if he was silently asking her if she was seeing this too. Hen nodded as he pointed at the right leg.

Eddie cut through the fabric until his eyes recognized a swelling around her knee, some bruising and her kneecap was visually out of its place. “A dislocated right knee” Eddie said as he looked at Hen. “(Y/n), your knee has been dislocated. The best thing to do for us is to splint it and get you to the hospi-” Hen didn’t even get the chance to give her advice as she yelled: “Pop it back in!”

“Are you sure?” Hen asked to double check her choice. She nodded with her eyes closed, still facing the ceiling of the building. “Do it.” Evan spoke as he squeezed her hand, and placed his other free hand onto her cheek.

“I’m sorry sis, this is gonna hurt. A lot.” Eddie says as he gets ready to grab her lower leg. Eddie closed his eyes for a second, to mentally prepare to hear his sister's ear deafening scream in real life. As if she hasn’t screamed enough today.

Carefully Eddie extended her leg, (Y/n) bit down on the inside of her cheeks trying not to scream, but the stinging pain in her leg was too painful. Her scream went through marrow and bone, it sounded like she was being tortured. She squeezed Evan’s hand so hard it turned blank. A pop sounded through the air as the knee popped back into its place.

She sobbed as she felt the shocking pain through her leg. Evan was trying to comfort her as her eyes kept streaming over her face. “You did so good..” he wiped one of her many tears away as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Right arm is most definitely broken, right closed fracture.” Eddie says when he took a closer look at her right arm. “Alright. Starting fluids” Hen’s voice spoke as she got an IV needle from the bag and searched for a vein on her left arm which Evan was holding, to put the needle in.

“Splinting the arm” Eddie grabbed a sam splint from the bag, and started to secure the splint to her arm. “Stay with us sis, we got you.” Eddie spoke as he could see her eyelids blink faster and faster, as she was going to pass out. Evan’s eyes shot at hers as he heard Eddie finish his sentence.

“We need to move her!” Eddie called out, as he could see Bobby and Chimney entering the hallway again with the gurney and a backboard.

“Hey hey! (Y/n) stay with me!” Evan said as he saw her beginning to fade away. “So..tired..” she mumbled, out of breath. “No, no, no! You have to stay awake, baby.” Evan spoke as he placed both of his hands on her cheeks, carefully so he wouldn’t hurt her.

Evan’s eyes scanned her body, there was nothing else visible. Without thinking, his hands went to her shirt. He pressed both hands onto one side and yanked her shirt open, she was now in only her bra, with her shirt to the sides. Eddie’s eyes shot at Evan’s spontaneous action.

Eddie’s eyes immediately saw a bruising underneath her chest. “She’s bleeding internally, it’s probably her spleen.” Eddie concluded, “Get that backboard over here! We need to move her!” Eddie called out. Chimney put the backboard down on the ground and with the four of them they slid (Y/n) onto the backboard and onto the gurney.

When they wheeled the gurney to the exit of the building, Evan constantly held her hand. He wasn’t letting her go, and she wasn’t planning on letting him go. He could see her eyes open and close from time to time.

They loaded the gurney into the ambulance, and without any hesitation Eddie and Buck both got in the back. The back doors closed and with two pats on the backdoor the ambulance started moving.

“Buck..” she mumbled, “I’m right here baby” Evan spoke as he squeezed her hand, to let her know he was there. “I’m sorry” she said with her eyes closed, but she weakly opened them. “Don’t be, this wasn’t your fault.” Evan pressed her hand to his lips once more, and she gave him a weak smile.

______

“(Y/n) I asked you a question.. are you still having nightmares?” doctor Frank asked (Y/n) as she was facing him. Her crutch she had, was leaning against the side of the couch she was sitting on. “No” she answered. Her knee was in a brace, it still hurt when she walked and she had the crutch to help her.

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell you’re lying” Frank said straight to the point. “Well, you see a little off today.. Did something happen recently?” She shook her head at the question of her therapist. “You’ve gone through a traumatizing event. It’s normal to have nightmares after that. So tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

She sighed. Why was she even talking to him right now? She just wanted to go back to work, but she knew she couldn’t. Not when her leg was torturing her like this. “I didn’t have a nightmare.” she held onto it.

Frank sighed, and grabbed the pen of his notebook to take some notes. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at Frank. “Okay. Yes, I did have a nightmare.” she sighed.

She started tapping her left leg against the floor. “What happened in the nightmare?” Frank asked further. “It’s.. the same thing. Over. and over again..The same scene, same attacker, same actions.” She spoke, her voice breaking some more whenever there came another word out of her mouth.

“And how does that make you feel?” Frank asks. “I.. I keep feeling like I can’t breathe. Like, I’m being pushed underwater. Suffocating.” She roughly wipes her tears with her left hand off her face.

“You know, I’ve made up hundreds of different kinds of scenarios in my head, what if my microphone wasn’t on, what if I never called for help, things like that.” (Y/n) admits. “And you never dream of those scenarios?”

She shook her head. “No.. Some days, I don’t even sleep, because I’m scared to fall asleep. Because I know what kind of dream I will have.”

“Even when Evan is next to you, you’ll still have the same dream?” Frank asks. (Y/n) nods. “It’s crazy, I don’t talk in my sleep. But after.. this.. I sometimes wake up screaming, and I terrify Evan.” she sobs. “He tells me it’s okay, it’s normal after what I’ve been through.” her voice continues.

In the back of her mind, she can hear her own scream, the way the attacker grabbed her and pushed her into the wall, the way he broke her arm. Everything is coming back to her now.

“But I’m sick and tired of scaring him to death, him telling me it’s okay to have those nightmares.” Tears are falling down her face, her sobs are uncontrollable and she could feel herself starting to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry.” she says as she stands up, puts her arm down into the holding area of the crutch and leaves the room.

She rushes out of the room, yanking open the door to the waiting area where her boyfriend was waiting for her to finish her appointment. She wasn’t able to drive herself, so Evan offered to drive her to her appointment.

Evan was scrolling down his phone as the door was opened and his girlfriend came rushing through it. “Woah woah! What happened?” Evan asks as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in and (Y/n) almost ran outside.

When she reached the outside air, she couldn’t breathe. It was almost like she was choking on her own air. Evan had followed her outside, he was standing in front of her putting at first both his hands on her upper arms, but as soon as he realized she was hyperventilating one of his hands was moving towards her cheek. “Remember what I said right? Deep, slow breaths.” he calmly said as he tried to get her along, so she could copy him. Her eyes were focussed on Evan. Slowly breathing in and out, she put her hand on his chest so she could focus on Evan’s heartbeat. Something that always would calm her down.

She’s had a few panic attacks these last weeks, Evan didn’t at first know what to do. But right now, he was an expert in calming her down. Evan placed the hand he had on her upper arm down over her hand which was placed onto his own chest.

“Good, good..” He says as her trembling breath finally was in the same pace as his. ”You want to tell me what happened in there?” he slowly asks. He could basically already guess what has happened in there, but he still wanted to hear it from her. “No..” she sighed. “That’s okay.” Evan whispered as he brushed some strands of hair behind her ear.

(Y/n) closed the distance between her and Evan, she put her head down onto his shoulder as he reeled her into his chest and placed one hand on her lower back, and the other one rubbed up and down over her spine.

“We’ll be alright..” Evan says as he presses a kiss down onto the top of her head.

Next Chapter >> | 9-1-1 Masterlist

[eunimaybe]

; caught in the claws of love !

bestfriend!riki x fem. reader | a little date with your bestfriend riki at the arcade blossoms into something more

genre: fluff, friends to lovers (?) | wc. 0.6k EN- a/n: i dug this out from the deepest parts of my google docs it was a whole mariana trench down there

you watched as the plushie dropped once again from the metal claws of the machine, landing softly on top of its soft friends. you stared at it for a moment, disappointed and your pride nearly gone. you thought you would’ve gotten it since it had been your fifth try, but no such luck. the cheerful melody of the claw machine played in and out of your ears as you looked at the cute pink toy behind the clear wall. so close yet so far away. — more under cut!

“did you get it?”

you turned to meet the eyes of your friend, riki, whom you had come to the arcade with and shook your head.

“no. i suck at this, it keeps falling.” you said, eyeing the plushie once again.

“you still want it?” riki asked, following your gaze to the soft toy. it lies amongst all the other plushies, plastic eyes staring up blankly.

you let out a little huff, frustrated. “yeah i do. i don’t even know why - i could get that thing online easily.”

riki set down the cup of slushie he had been holding and took out a bill note from his pocket. “well, there’s always something about the arcade that makes everything more desirable than they should be. try one more time.”

you quickly waved off the money he thrusted at you. you shouldn’t take his money for something so stupid - you probably wouldn’t even be able to get it, considering your below average claw machine skills. but riki insisted, grabbing your hand to stuff the note into your palm before closing your fingers over it.

“my treat,” he said, grinning.

you gave him an exasperated look before inserting the note into the machine. the lights flashed on and off in a sparkle of rainbows, and you clicked the red button to start the game.

you started to move the joystick, shifting the claw’s position left and right for the pink teddy bear. you could feel riki’s gaze on your back, watching you play.

suddenly, his arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours gently as he helped you maneuver the claw machine. his let his head rest on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck.

“here, let me help,” he whispered, moving the joystick along with your left hand to position the claw correctly. “you really do suck as this, but luckily for you, you have me. and i happen to be very, very good at this.”

you were suddenly hyper aware of how close you two were. how your back pressed against him, how his hands wrapped around yours. you felt warm inside, and you could practically feel the flush on your cheeks.

this isn’t how friends are supposed to make you feel.

you could barely pay attention, but you watched riki expertly control the claw machine, letting the metal contraption drop on the teddy bear and winning the game. and then his touch left you as he dived down to get the toy from the slot, leaving you empty and alone standing in front of the flashing claw machine.

“here you go,” riki said, handing you the bear. he smiled proudly. “you like it?”

you wordlessly took it from him, staring at the soft plushie. “you shouldn’t be doing that.”

you could see riki frown from your peripheral vision. “do what?”

you felt your cheeks warm again, and you pulled the plushie tighter against yourself. “do what you just did. we’re friends aren’t we? i think that just went over the blurry line between friendship and something more.”

riki smirked. “like i said, there’s something about the arcade that makes everything, and perhaps, everyone, more desirable than they should be.”

✉️: @icyy-hoon

[azullumi]

premise — you know those beach arc in a 12-episode shoujo anime? make it with the ip3o !!

characters — aventurine, topaz, and ratio

tags — established relationship, fluff, not proofread, 0.6k words ; headcanons

note — just something quick which i wrote in the beach yesterday before my phone wanted to become a fish and dived into the ocean !! probably not that accurate to their character but hey i just wanted to have fun

AVENTURINE who will write your name in the sand, only to have it being washed away by the ocean’s wave the moment he shows it to you. The dejected look on his face as he watches his effort being flattened and smoothened into sand will just make you want to kiss him (he’s just so kissable no matter what he does).

AVENTURINE who will stay up all night listening to the waves and watching stars with you. He’ll set up a small tent for the both of you to stay in as you wait for the sun to set and the sky to cast its dark blanket to reveal the stars that are waiting to be seen. It’s such a pretty sight, something that you will forever engrave in your mind, but he’s there spending most of his time looking at you before the stars; he ended up missing the shooting star that passed by.

AVENTURINE who will collect pretty seashells with you. He’ll look out for them while he’s on his own and will choose the ones he thinks you’ll love—seemingly seeking your approval, he’ll show the shell to you with expectation drawn in each breath. He adores the look on your face when you get so excited over something small and simple.

TOPAZ who will build play in the sand and build sandcastles with you, along with Numby who’ll watch by the sidelines like a curious cat to their busy owner. You two, in collaboration, would either end up with the tallest and most majestic sandcastle ever made or the most horrendous piece ever seen by mankind—there’s no in between. Bonus points if it also gets washed away by the wave.

TOPAZ who will drag you anywhere and everything. She will take you to several and various locations whether it be a hidden spot with a nice view which she found while she was out walking (she’ll steal a kiss from you once knowing that there’s nobody around) or to areas that are bustling with activities that the both of you can participate in.

TOPAZ who’s probably the most active person you’ll see at the beach. One minute she’s playing volleyball, the next she’s out making kites fly, then the next you’ll see her, she’s setting up the bonfire for later night or either talking with the locals. Best believe that she’ll spend her evening just by your side, leaning against your form in silence as she tries to recover her energy—which would probably just lead to her falling asleep beside you.

DR. RATIO who will most likely spend his time sunbathing or staying away from the water—he wouldn’t want his book to get wet, would he? Although he brings his book during his baths, the ocean is quite unpredictable compared to the still waters of his bathtub. Sometimes, the tide would come in slow and gentle like a mother’s lullaby but it would be followed by a body-slapping wave that would drag you away from the shore.

DR. RATIO who will wake you up early just for the sunrise because he learned that the view would be a lovely sight—also, because he thinks you might like it. He’ll gently guide you through the sand as you force your eyes open, drowsiness still in your gaze and the way you slowly walk to not stumble in your steps; he’ll hold your hand the whole time and you’ll watch the sunrise with him in silence of the cold morning.

DR. RATIO who will look after you and watch you always. He wouldn’t let the opportunity to say something (scold you or tell you off) pass by, however. Most likely would pull something like, “You’re cold, aren’t you? If so, that’s your own problem.” then would proceed to place a jacket or towel over your shoulder.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[your-enby-antihero]

based on the 4 sided dive escape room question here is my take:

Liam’s PCs- Yes 100% they would escape not only because of their skill sets but also all of them are very team oriented. They would all work well together, getting out at record time and it would be a good experience for all of them they’d be friends upon escape.

Laura’s PCs- No only because they would do really well at the start but eventually Jester would get distracted and start to annoy Vex then it would devolve into following a red herring until time runs out. They would have a good time though, but it is contentious if they come out of the room friends.

Marisha’s PCs- Yes they could do it purely based on the fact that I think Beau could pull the team together. Her competitive energy would get Keyleth and Laudna fired up and they would get out. They would have a decent time (Beau might get intense) but they’d come out friends.

Ashely’s PCs- No they would not get out of the escape room. Yasha wouldn’t get the point of the activity, Pike would eventually get frustrated and she would have to be stopped so she wouldn’t smash stuff, Fearne would try to take the set dress. They would not even get past the first room but they’d come out friends.

Travis’ PCs-No I don’t believe they could purely because Grog as best as he would try he would be much help, Bertrand Bell and Chetney would have beef on who is in charge and Chetney snuck in a real knife, Fjord is low key a push over so despite him probably being good enough at doing the puzzles but he doesn’t speak up. They would not get out and Chetney would kill someone.

Taliesin’s PCs- I think they’d get out. With the amount of obscure knowledge and a general intelligence they could get out in the nick of time. However they would not be friends at the end of the escape. Percy and Ashton and Molly would all end up yelling and insulting each other. Kingsley and Caduceus would chill but Kingsley would be laughing so fucking hard at the end. They would get out but they’d kill each other if it happened again.

Sam’s PCs-They could do it, but it would depend on if Veth/Nott got distracted or not. If she figured it out they would be fine but let’s be real FCG and Tary would be just a little useless despite genuine effort. Scanlan would help but I think he’d be kind of a dick about it. They would get out but not end up being besties after very neutral.

[lilyswritings]

late.

synopsis: your boyfriend’s superhero antics give you a fright, and it’s up to him to reassure you of his well-being when he returns home from the fight. 

author’s note: i’ll admit, this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time... likely since no way home came out! but i’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, and i figured it was a good idea to start with finishing up some works in progress before diving into anything new. so here’s some peter angst and fluff, just like the good ol’ days. enjoy!! 

wordcount: 1,613 

18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 25. “What the hell were you thinking?!” 48. “Why are you crying?”

Peter Parker x Reader

      The window to the bedroom slides open, a figure in blue and red quietly stepping through the frame and carefully sliding the window shut behind him, all the while listening intently for any signs of life in the apartment beyond. Satisfied that he hasn’t woken his aunt, Peter turns around only to be startled by a figure sat in the darkness of the room, criss-cross on his bed. 

      “Shit.” He curses, huffing out a laugh when he realizes it’s only you. “It’s late,” Peter starts, tugging his mask off and tossing it onto his desk as he turns towards his closet to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

      He doesn’t notice how silent you are until you don’t respond, when he turns around mid-unzipping his outfit to find you staring at him — like you’ve seen a ghost. Later, he’ll blame the shadows in the darkened room as why he didn’t immediately notice the shine of dried tears on your cheeks, or the way you’d bitten your nails down to the skin like you always did when you were panicking. 

      For now, though, he’s too focused on getting out of his suit and into comfortable clothes, the events of the evening still making his brain run haywire as he runs everything that he did that went wrong through his mind, planning for next time. 

      “Look, I’m sorry for returning so late,” He begins, tugging the suit off. “I lost track of time, I meant to text you but I think my phone got smashed in the fight and I’m probably going to have to at least replace the screen if not the whole thing.” He rambles, until finally, he’s changed entirely into casual clothes, and he lets out a sigh. When he turns around, finally, your expression has morphed from one of shock into anger, and he frowns at the sudden shift in emotion. 

      “What?” He asks, immediately wracking his brain for what he could have done to piss you off in the last few minutes. In response, you push yourself up and off the bed, coming to stand face-to-face with him as you take in his injuries, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

      “What was that?” You ask, gesturing vaguely to the window in reference to his escapades of the night.

      “Oh, it was just that Rhino guy again, turns out he escaped from prison and was trying the same ol’ shtick of—”

      “Rhino?” You cut him off, hands moving to your hips, and Peter winces, realizing his error. 

      “Yeah, uh, I know I said I wouldn’t take him on again by myself, but he was actively driving away with some radioactive materials and the police weren’t even close to him at that point so if I hadn’t stepped in chances are he would have gotten away and—”

      “So you went alone? What the hell were you thinking?” You demand, not letting him finish, watching his eyebrows tug together as he becomes defensive. 

      “Hey, come on, I can handle myself. I’m Spider-Man.” Peter retorts with a cocky smile, although still evidently confused, and you shove at his chest. “What the hell—” He begins to argue, smile dropping.

      “It’s not funny. You could have been killed!” You hiss, barely containing an angry shouting match as you try to keep your voice down to not wake Aunt May up. 

      “Are you— Why are you crying?” Peter asks, finally, and you freeze, only now noticing the feeling of tears running down your cheeks. He steps forwards delicately, hands up, and you step back, watching his expression morph into one of hurt.

      “What’s going on with you?” He asks, obviously confused, and you fling a hand out towards your open laptop as your other hand comes up to hastily scrub at your cheeks, as if to erase the tears altogether. 

     Peter, still looking at you with concern in his eyes, hesitantly sits down on the bed and turns the laptop on. The blue glow of the screen lights up his face as he reads the open article, mouth opening slightly as he pieces together your reaction. 

      The headline ‘Spider-Man: Gone For Good?’ stares back at him, along with an attached video of himself in his costume being smashed into the side of a building and remaining there, unmoving, until the video cuts out. ‘Spider-Man severely injured... Worried crowd of onlookers... Has the city’s hero been defeated?... No sign of hero since the incident...’ Peter’s eyes skim the article, before he turns to face you with a softened expression, noticing that you haven’t stopped crying, though you’re frustratedly scrubbing at your face in hopes of wiping away the evidence.

      He stands up from the bed and approaches you, and this time, you let him place his hands on your shoulders as you wipe at your face. “I’m so sorry,” He starts, voice quiet, moving to tilt your chin up with his hand. “That must have been really scary for you.”

      You swallow thickly, taking in a shaky breath as you lock eyes with him. “It said you were dead.” You whisper, voice breaking slightly on the last word. “The video—” You stop yourself, tears beginning to well up anew in your eyes, and Peter winces.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was a news station, I was just— I needed to rest for a minute, that was it. I had no idea...” He curses himself internally — he should have been on the lookout for cameras, what if he’d taken his mask off? He never wanted you to see him in a fight, let alone see him get hurt that badly. 

      You nod, hand coming up to rest on his cheek, eyes skimming over the bruise on his cheekbone that seems to be disappearing with each passing second. Yay healing powers, you think sarcastically. “Okay. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” You take in another breath, this time less shaky. “I was just so scared.” You admit, and there you go again, fresh tears falling as you curse and look down at the floor.

      Peter takes that as his cue to envelop you in a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and tugging you closer, arms locked around you protectively. “I’m here. I’m okay.” He utters the affirmations into your neck, pressing a feather-light kiss there as if to prove it. 

      “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” He huffs into your hair. Though his words are obviously meant to lighten the mood, the cocky attitude reminds you one again of your initial frustration, and you impulsively pull away and launch your first forward to punch Peter in the shoulder. 

      Of course it only ends up startling him, and the impact feels like you just punched a wall — curse you, superhero muscles — and you pull your hand back with a muttered curse. His dark eyebrows tug together as he holds a hand over the spot you hit. 

      “What was that?” He asks, eyes darting from your fist to your face, tone concerned although you detect a hint of amusement in his soft brown eyes at the instant repercussions for your outburst. 

      “It’s not funny. You fucking scared me.” You grumble, cradling your now-throbbing fist against your chest, and he huffs out a short laugh. “Don’t laugh at me.” You scold, though your anger is dissolving by the second just due to his reassuring presence. 

     “I already said I’m sorry—” You frown at his casual attitude. “—don’t punch me again—” He interjects hurriedly. “—but I am sorry. Really sorry. I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

    “You’d better.” You frown, still trying to eradicate the image of his prone form lying among the rubble, no sign of movement or life. “Or at least fucking text me, or, or call me, or— send a Spider-signal or something! Next time your phone breaks, I want you to use a payphone.” You decide, nodding, and he laughs under his breath. 

      “Okay,” He concedes, stepping closer to you and kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll build a little pocket into the suit to hold some quarters.”

      You roll your eyes at the sass, but your smile betrays you as you lean into his touch, his arms coming up to encircle you. “Don’t be a smartass.” You mutter into his shoulder, and he laughs. 

      “Can we go to bed now?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you nod. “I’m wiped, and I think you might be too.” You nod again, sighing and going to pull away from him, but he holds you tighter and your brow furrows in confusion. 

       “I thought you wanted to go to bed—” Your words are cut off by a squeal of surprise and he holds you fast to his chest and shoots a web at the wall above his bed, tugging the both of you onto the bed in one swooping motion. 

      You land sideways, eyes wide, and erupt into a stifled laugh at his antics. “You’re insane, it would have taken us all of ten seconds to walk over and get in bed!” You scold, and he finally lets you go and shrugs, pulling the blanket up and over the both of you.

      “And this way, it took us one second.” He smirks, and you smack him on the chest. 

      “Okay, Spider-Man.” You retort, voice mocking, but he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you once more. The room goes quiet, your breaths slowing and deepening as you lie in Peter’s arms, and just as you are about to fall into a deep sleep, you smile as you hear him utter three lovely little words.

      “I love you.”

[missmoonfrost]

Driving lessons - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic August 28 - coach Words: 406

“Hello! How can I help you?” Remus looks up from the counter and greets the man walking into the driving school.

He tosses his head, making long black hair dance out of his face in an elegant movement and reveal the most stunning features Remus ever had the fortune to lay eyes on. Remus is glad he already said hello because right now he has forgotten how to speak.

“Motorcycle riding lesson, first time. Booked in the name Sirius Black.”

Remus nods. Then he remembers he is supposed to do something with that information, not just enjoy the voice.

“Right… Eh… Do you have a permit?”

“Well… it’s not for me. I booked for my friend. James Potter. He will be here in a sec.”

“Okay. Does he have a permit?”

“I think so. He’s supposed to have sent it in?”

“Let me go check.”

Remus dives behind the curtain to the crammed office and starts shuffling through the permits on P. Halfway through he realises his mind is too occupied with Sirius Black waiting at the counter to register what he’s looking at and has to start over.

He can hear the door open again.

“You’re off the bet.” Sirius Black says in a low voice.

“Come again?” says someone who is probably the Potter whose papers he just found. But Remus stands still, just to hear where this goes. “The bet, that being married had suddenly made me so dull that I wouldn’t do anything like getting a motorcycle license? It’s off? Why? You already paid.”

“I figured I’ll use the lessons for myself.”

“You already have a motorcycle licence?!”

“Shh!”

“Oh, I see.” Potter chuckles.

”Shut up.” Sirius responds, still in a hushed voice. “He’s hot, okay?”

Remus can’t help the smile that fills his face when he steps back out with the papers in hand. Sirius inhales sharply, probably just then realising what bad soundproofing a thin curtain is, and looks mortified.

Remus smiles even wider. “I’m not the instructor.” As on cue, Emma steps out from the staffroom. “Ah, here she is.”

Remus locks eyes with Sirius and leans forward over the counter in what he hopes is an inviting pose, “But if you want me to coach you in anything else, give me a call.” Sirius grins widely as he takes the driving school's business card with Remus’ number scribbled on the back and follows his friend out the door.

Does getting a driver's license work this way in other countries? Do you need a permit first before you begin lessons?

[leth-writes]

yandere Tim Drake x meta reader

This is the first part, I'll probably post a second tomorrow!

Summary: you're a meta who struggles to be seen, and Tim thinks you're the most interesting thing he's laid his eyes on for a long time.

Warnings: none, though as always my blog is 18+.

Tim was the only person to really see you. You’d been born a meta, though your powers slowly ramped up through your early childhood; unfortunately you didn’t even get a cool power. You weren’t even fully invincible, just slightly… fuzzy. It was frustrating, how no one would look you in the eye as a kid, at least until it progressed to most people not even being able to look at your face. You felt like half a person, like a silhouette without the details penciled in.

Then, as you got older, it got worse and worse. Suddenly, your own parents were forgetting you. You’d go to get dinner only to find none left, they almost gave your bed away, most of your clothes got donated… you learned quickly to keep your personal possessions close to your chest to avoid them being given out at the first chance. They could barely remember your name even when they could see you, always messing it up by a few letters. It was even worse at school. You found yourself often having your desk given away to new students, being forced to sit on the floor and try to get your work done, and your teacher always managed to misplace your homework. Eventually, the other students would attempt to walk right through you, as though you were a ghost and not a real person.

Maybe you were a ghost, maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe you’d died and gone to hell after a life of sin… you couldn’t imagine God being good if they’d condemn you to this living, waking, purgatory. Eventually, you’d been completely kicked out of the house. You’d come home one day, only to find your whole family gone; they’d moved without you. The realization that you’d been erased from their eyes at the snap of a figure only left you hollow.

The hunger to be seen, to be known, left a giant gaping maw in your stomach, all teeth and gnarled, twisted flesh. It was horrid, this living, breathing, monster eating away at you until you couldn’t breathe or blink, curled up in the small, ragged blanket you’d found one day after dumpster diving. You often spent hours just laying on your side in an alley, praying to be released from your suffering, only to fail over and over again. It was horrible, but it was your life.

Everything changed when you met him. You’d been sneaking into Gotham Academy, mainly to use their bathrooms to shower and change into some spare clothes you planned to steal. You took the shortcut through the library, looking for something good to read to distract you from the gawping hunger growing steadily, trying to feed it so it wouldn’t consume you whole, when you heard the clearing of a throat. As always, you assumed it was just some rich kid with a mild case of the sniffles ditching class to read magazines in the corner.

You were wrong.

Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder. A hand, on your shoulder! It was the first time you’d been touched in 2 years. You whirled around and threw yourself into the chest of the boy who’d grasped your shoulder, the force of you colliding with him causing him to take a step back and readjust his weight, letting out a soft “oof!”. Tears streamed down your face, the hungry maw gnawing at you practically overtaking you.

The boy let out a gentle sigh, slowly raising the still outstretched arm to pat at your back awkwardly.

“Hey, are you… okay?” He asked, tentatively.

You realized you were still clawing at him like a wounded animal, and quickly stepped away, clearing your throat and looking down.

“Sorry, it’s just… been a while since someone hugged me, I guess I forgot what it felt like?” you said sheepishly, looking down and away.

“It’s alright, I was just wondering if you were new here? I haven’t seen you around campus before…” He started hesitantly, stepping closer. Shit, you couldn’t let him know you didn’t attend the school, or he’d call the cops on you! Who knows how long you’d be left in a quiet, dingy cell, hands cuffed together, before they remembered they’d put you there!

“Yeah, yeah, I’m new. It’s my first day and I got a bit lost… Silly me, huh?” You said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing your arm.

You looked up at him for the first time. Shit. It was Tim fucking Drake, heir to the Wayne and Drake empires, and practical king of the school. He ruled with an iron fist, blackmailing bullies and solving problems; even as an outsider, you couldn’t deny the power he held. The way he acted, you knew he was aware of his power as well. He was dressed in a rumpled uniform, something that would normally be a suspendable offence, but he managed to get away with it. He was leaning back, tie loose and shirt untucked partially, hair messy and fluffy. The sun filtered gently through the arched windows, a rare sunny day, illuminating the soft brown undertones of his hair and shining on his pale, exhausted looking face. He had deep eye bags but was otherwise unblemished, and the lightest green eyes you’d ever seen, almost sickly green.

Looking at him made you uncomfortable; it’d been years since you’d been able to talk to another person. His eyes glinted and his face slackened, looking stern and serious.

“No you’re not.” He said, voice low and threatening.

“W-Yes I am! I just don’t have my paperwork in yet!” You stuttered, backing into the bookcase and holding your hands up as if to defend against a physical blow. He sighed and shook his head, once again stepping into your personal space. “No you aren’t. I would’ve recognized you. I know everyone in this school; you don’t even have a uniform on.” He continued, glancing out the window as if uninterested.

Fuck, what should you do? You could run, but you had the feeling he’d be able to catch you… Or you could try and lie again, but he did seem pretty certain… Maybe you should just confess?

“Fine. I don’t go here. I’m just… I just need to use the bathroom, okay?” You hedged, looking away as though embarassed. It was best not to confess your status as a meta, for fear of Batman showing up to arrest you; you’d heard he had a vendetta against metas for some reason.

Tim nodded, looking satisfied. “Finally, the truth. Let’s go.” He stepped away, grabbing your wrist and pulling you gently along. You dragged your feet, sputtering, trying to stop him. “where are we going?” You asked him, incredulously. “We’re going to get you some clothes, my treat, and a shower. I can’t have you wandering around like that, you’ll never fit in. Besides, you’re the only interesting thing I’ve seen all month.”

You were so excited to finally be seen you didn’t even question why he referred to you as a thing instead of a person.

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[phantom-0-writer]

excerpt from my fic (bio wayne danny)

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Dick asked teasingly, slipping in next to Bruce. 

“I was just telling Danny how having a space station as a base of operation is a tactical call.” Bruce said, pointedly. 

“As if. It wasn’t a good idea when the JL was just the main seven, but after their expansion project, it’s a liability if not a straight out disadvantage.” Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“How is it a liability?” Dick asked intrigued. 

“Whenever there’s a huge invasion or something, where do you think the evil aliens are going to attack first? The huge space satellite with at least a handful of heroes on it at all times, with state-of-the-art weapons and tech, full of information about literally everything worth having information on probably has no external defenses because no one would think to sneak into a space station, seems like a pretty good start.” Danny explained, Dick watched Bruce appraise his information. “I bet I could get in if I figured out how to get to space.” 

Bruce raised an amused brow at him, “You think you could break into the Watchtower?” 

“Easy.” Danny proclaimed, sporting a wicked grin. 

Before Dick could say anything, someone came up to their table. “Danny!” The boy, Dick recognized as Tucker, said with an exaggerated fake surprise, “What a surprise seeing you here. At the Nasty Burger. Around 6 o’clock. Today.” 

“Tucker? Why- What are you doing here?” Danny asked surprised. 

“I was just passing by,” Tucker said, shrugging dramatically. Danny gave him an accusing and disbelieving look. “My, my who are these people here with you, Danny?” Tucker asked, sliding into the seat next to Danny. 

“Tucker, you know who they are,” Danny said exasperated. 

But it seemed like they had more guests. “Danny! Wow, I wasn’t expecting you here. Small world, huh?” Sam (?) walked over preppi-ly which didn’t match her grunge aesthetic. Her hands hooked with Val’s as they walked together. 

“Small world,” Val repeated with a fake smile. The two of them sat down next to Danny and Tucker. 

Danny put his head in his hands, “I should’ve known.”

“You should’ve.” Sam nodded. 

“But you didn’t.” Val chastised jokingly. 

Next another boy comes dashing into the restaurant wearing a basketball jersey. 

“You’re late,” Val says, admonishingly. Tucker and Sam shake their heads, and Danny sighs in exasperation. 

“I literally ran here.” Wes said in between huffs of air, slumping in next to Val. 

The group of teens who had been teasing each other, in a very strange synchronous action, turn their heads to look at Bruce and Dick. Dick was really regretting watching Anabell last night. 

“I think we’ll need more food,” Bruce comments lightly. 

---

“So, dick.” Sam started, munching on a fry. “Tell us about yourself.” 

“Like what?” Dick asked

Valerie (“Do not call me Val.”) answered, “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop in Bludhaven.” Dick was met with four pairs of dubious eyes. Danny sent him a small-lipped look of disappointment, he wasn’t sure whether it was for him or at him. Maybe Dick should look into getting a new day job.

“Write that down.” Sam gestured to Tucker.

“Already on it,” Tucker reported, scribbling something with a stylus. 

“You guys are taking this very seriously,” Bruce commented, smiling. 

“It is serious.” Tucker responded. 

“What if you guys are in some child trafficking ring?” Wes commented, 

“Why would they be-” Danny started, before Wes turned to him and very seriously said, 

“That’s exactly the question, Danny. Why would they?” Wes thoughtfully turned to look at Bruce warily. 

“Y’know let’s just dive into the important questions shall we?” Sam asked her preppy attitude from before gone, replaced by a hard glare at the two of them. It reminded Dick of Titus. “What’s your opinion on the basements?”

“Basements?” Bruce repeated, confused. 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first eccentric billionaire to insist Danny be their son. And we’ve noticed a few patterns.” Tucker informed them as if they were talking about something completely normal and mundane. Though, Dick couldn’t really argue. Bruce was also an eccentric billionaire with a secret basement. 

“Well, we have a basement,” Dick said hesitantly. “Does that dock us points?” He asked Tucker, half-joking, half-concerned. 

“Tentative.” 

“So what do you do in your basement?” Wes asked, sipping on a milkshake. 

“Normal basement things.” Dick lied. 

“Such as…” Valarie implored, eyes suspicious. 

Dick hesitated thinking about what to say. Bruce hadn’t said anything either. But Danny took the time to tell his friends, “Guys I really don’t think that should be a problem. I mean, would someone like Vlad really go for the ‘let’s have dinner so my family can meet your family and we can get to know each other’ approach when the ‘let me drug and kidnap you and stick you in a cloning pod’ approach was right there.” 

His friends seemed to consider this before they all nodded and agreed. 

“Vlad Masters drugged and kidnaped you to put you in a cloning pod?” Bruce asked, concerned. 

“No,” Danny said, offhandedly, not bothering to elaborate. Someone should really look into that guy. 

“O-M-G, is that Paulina?” Wes said pointedly, a menacing grin on his face as he looked at Danny, who in turn looked alarmed.

“Aw, Danny you should go say ‘Hi’.” Tucker cooed, teasingly, Danny groaned, his ears flushing in embarrassment.

“Guys, stop.” Sam said finally, “We wouldn’t want another spoon incident.” A grin cracked on her face. Danny buried his face in his hands. 

Dick looked over to see who they were talking about. There were two girls, one was a blond girl with her arms hooked around Kwan from The Mall, and the other was a darker skinned girl wearing a pink crop top. Dick wasn’t sure who Paulina was, but it didn’t really matter, as he took his chance to tease his brother. “You have a crush on Paulina?” He asked teasingly. Bruce is smiling next to him. 

“No.” Danny denied it fervently. “I mean- I did. Like forever ago. But not anymore.”

“He’s since moved on to more attainable targets.” Tucker nodded. Received a smack from Sam and a spoon to the face from Valerie. “Ow. What? It’s true.” 

“Y’know what they say. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” Wes added with a snicker. 

“Wes,” Danny groaned at the same time as Sam and Valarie hissed his name. 

“I sense a story.” Bruce commented, sipping his drink. 

“It all started when we were fresh little freshmen. Danny had his little crush on Paulina. I was just trying to get by, y’know. Not all of us have Wayne genes.” Tucker started pointedly. 

“What- we didn’t know about that till this week.” Danny pointed out. 

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, dude.” Wes spoke up. Sam and Valerie stayed suspiciously quiet. Dick’s smirk only grew. 

“As I was saying, we’re just doing normal freshman things, when Sammy here,” Tucker points to Sam with his head, “starts crushing. Big time.”

“It was not that bad.” Sam points out. 

“It was, in fact, that bad.” Tucker said, looking at Bruce and Dick, “But at the same time Danny and Val have a little enemies-to-lovers thing and then they both start crushing on each other. And they dated for a while, but then they broke up cause Val had a lot on her plate at the time. Danny was all mopey and heartbroken. And then Sam swoops in like his little knight in glowing armor, then they start dating. And all the while I’m here single and alone.” Tucker shakes his head mournfully. 

“I was not all mopey and heartbroken.” Danny defends himself. 

“You so were dude.” Tucker says.

“Yeah.” Sam agrees. 

“But then Sam and Danny decide that they’re better off as friends because Danny kinda had a lot to deal with. And now we’re all best friends.”  Tucker concluded, cheerfully. 

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh, Bruce.” Dick says slyly. Bruce huffs. 

“Then what about the spoon incident?” Bruce asked. 

“Oh, that was back when there were a lot of ghost attacks, and the school had my parents come in to run security. And this one time we were having lunch outside, and they just showed up out of nowhere. And I got kinda spooked and…” Danny’s voice trailed off into a mumble, and Dick couldn’t catch the last bit.

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“He said he swallowed a spoon.” Wes spoke up. 

“What?” Bruce asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?” 

“Oh yeah, I got it out.” Danny waved dismissively. 

“How?” Dick asked, confused.

“Uh, I just did.” He waved again. Before Dick could ask any more questions, someone else decided to show up.

“Oh good, I thought I missed you guys.” Another red-haired boy showed up. “Hi, I’m Adam, Wes’s brother.” Dick recognized the accent the boy had. He stuck out a hand for Dick to shake.

continue reading (ao3)

regular boy: daniel wayne - chap 9

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie. 

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed. 

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.” 

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened. 

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands. 

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school. 

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head. 

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.” 

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone. 

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk. 

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard. 

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug. 

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-” 

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared. 

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face. 

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now. 

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max. 

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt. 

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now. 

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him. 

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him. 

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you. 

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger. 

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile. 

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers. 

“He’s going to be alright.” 

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck. 

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

[doc-who]

When Green Turns Red

Emily Prentiss/Reader

Summary: Emily faces the consequences of keeping your relationship a secret.

Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapters: 2/?

Words: 1640

Catergories: Angst, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Violence

You wake up with a groan, vision blurry and limited to just one eye. You try to reach up to feel the one you can’t see out of, but the rattle of chains stops you. Pressing yourself upright against the wall, you look down to see your wrists restrained to a radiator, the cuffs biting into your skin. Squinting, you take in the small, bare room you’re in, trying to discern what you can through the meager light that spills through the smoke-stained curtains.

Searching your aching brain, you try to remember how you got into this situation. It comes to you in the flashes, your apartment, the bar, dancing. You remember Emily, the look on her face when she said the two of you were a mistake. Despite your current circumstances, you still feel the ache her words cause you. Pushing those thoughts aside, you yank on the cuffs as hard as you can, wincing as the metal cuts into your already raw wrists. The radiator doesn’t give in the slightest, and you take a deep breath, pushing the pain you feel all over your body to the side so that you can think of a way out of this.

You take your mind back again, recalling how you sat in the alley, how you thought the hand on you was Emily. You squeeze your eyes together in concentration and quickly hiss in regret as pain shoots through your face. The feeling puts the last pieces of last night together, bringing back the memory of being struck across the head. You swear in frustration, unable to remember the face of the person who took you.

As you struggle to recollect the fragments of your memory, you hear footsteps approaching, and the handle to the single door in the room turns. You tense in preparation, breath lodged in your chest as the door creaks open.

—

For the first time in her life, Emily arrives late to work. She had tossed and turned all night, replaying her conversation with you over and over again. Usually, she prides herself on her composure, but she can’t bring herself to care when she walks into the conference room with dark circles under her eyes. She’d hoped arriving late would mean she wouldn’t have to endure any awkward tension with you, that she could just dive straight into a case and focus on that. She wasn’t wrong in her assumption, but she had expected to be the last one to arrive, not you. Throwing her bag down on the table, she sits in her usual seat, looking up to find the whole team’s eyes on her.

“What?” She asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Garcia stands at the board, a concerned look on her face and asks if you came in with her.

Emily tries not to visibly tense at the question, but she can’t hide the edge in her voice. “No, why would she?”

The team shares a knowing look with each other, and Emily prepares herself for deflection. Garcia isn’t concerned with treading the line, and doesn’t hold back her next question. “We saw her follow you out of the bar, but neither of you came back in. Didn’t you guys leave together?”

Emily tenses at the implication. “No, I went home alone.” The automatic defensiveness wears off then, and she realises why they’re so concerned. “What do you mean she didn’t come back in?”

“No one saw her after she went after you. We all thought you had both left. I didn’t even realise the two of you had gone until Alexa came up and asked if I’d seen her.”

Emily bristles at the mention of the women, remembering the two of you together. In her annoyance, she brushes off the concern that itches at her. “She’s probably just running late.”

Opening the case file, she focuses on the paper in front of her, ignoring the worried look Morgan gives her that she can see out of the corner of her eye. A few minutes pass in awkward silence before Hotch arrives and checks everyone’s present. Noticing your absence, he questions your whereabouts.

Morgan speaks up. “She hasn’t called you?”

“No.” Hotch answers, confusion in his voice. “Garcia, get her ETA please.”

“On it, sir.” With a quick nod she darts out of the room.

Emily watches the interaction silently, nerves building in her stomach. The feeling builds steadily until Garcia storms back into the room, where they quickly veer towards panic.

“I can’t get in contact with her,” Garcia explains frantically, “There’s no answer on either of her phones.”

Emily intercepts, “Did you trace them?”

Garcia stutters, embarrassed that they know how she frequently invades their privacy.

“Garcia.” Hotch says sternly.

“Yes, I traced both of them! The last coordinates were at the bar before they turned off.”

Emily’s heart sinks, the worry making her hungover head throb.

“Someone go check her apartment and see if she’s there.” Hotch instructs.

Emily automatically stands up, then suddenly becomes aware of how her eagerness looks. She opens her mouth to explain her haste, but is quickly stopped.

“For god's sake Emily!” Garcia yells in exasperation, “We already know that the two of you are together!”

Emily feels heat building her cheeks, her stammered rebuttal cut short by Garcia’s tirade.

“No! No more deflection. Now go find your girl!”

Letting out a defeated sigh, Emily nods and quickly makes her way around the table. She swallows her embarrassment as she’s stopped by Hotch at the door.

“Call us when you get there.” Hotch orders.

“Yes, sir.” She nods, the mortification at being called out in front of the team falls to the wayside. She needs to know that you’re okay.

—

Emily pulls up to your building, nerves buzzing. She glances up to your window, hoping she’ll see some movement, some sign that you’re there.

Swallowing her disappointment, she makes her way up to your apartment, apprehension building in her chest. Her hands tremble as she slides the spare key you gave her into the lock. The door clicks open, and she braces herself, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

She’s hit with the scent of your perfume as she enters, and her heart seizes at the smell. Making her way through your apartment, she calls out your name and waits for a non-existent reply. When she makes it to your bedroom, she takes a bated breath before walking inside. Her heart sinks when she finds the room empty. Everything is exactly as the two of you had left it the night before. She freezes at the realisation, you hadn’t been back here. You never came home last night. Bracing herself on the doorframe, she takes in the scene, trying to find any clue that she's wrong. As her eyes wander, she spots the dress you had teased her with the other night before, thrown over the clothes rail exactly where she had left it. Emily closes her eyes and it’s like she’s back in that memory. She can almost feel the warmth of your body against hers, the sound of your laugh ringing through the air, your breath on her skin as you whisper in her ear. The memory is so vivid it hurts.

Opening her eyes, she shakes her head. She needs to think like a profiler, not your girlfriend. Her jaw clenches. You’re not her girlfriend. You never were. Even if she finds you, you would never want to be with her after what she said.

Emily pulls out her phone, fingers hovering over Garcia’s name. Taking a deep breath she steadies her voice and makes the call.

“Garcia, it’s me. She’s not here.” The silence on the line is thick and palpable.

She can almost feel Penelope’s concern reaching out from the other end. “What do you mean she’s not there?”

Emily bites her tongue. “I mean she’s not here. She never came home last night. Everything’s exactly as we left it.” She doesn’t bother to hide the truth of the two of you anymore. She’d happily shout it in the middle of the BAU if it meant having you safe.

Garcia’s tone automatically shifts to analyst mode. “Okay, okay. I’ll check the hospitals, maybe she had an accident.” The words are meant to sound hopeful, but Emily can tell how forced it is. Even Garcia didn’t believe them.

Emily nodded, even though no one was there to see it. “Yeah, okay. Call me back as soon as you get anything. I’m heading back now.” She ends the call and sinks onto the edge of the bed, running her hands over the familiar cover. The fear in her voice had been impossible to hide, and she knew that Garcia had heard it loud and clear.

—

You’re not sure who to expect when the door creaks open, but you’re not exactly surprised when the man who enters is the spitting image of a typical unsub. You brace yourself when he slowly approaches like he’s hunting his prey.

“Finally, you’re awake.” He grins, showing yellowed teeth.

You pull away as much as you can when he reaches towards you, which isn’t far given the cuffs. He runs a filthy hand over the side of your bruised and bloody face, chucking when you strain your neck back away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit.

He grabs your face, hard, and you hold back the pained noise that threatens to escape you when his grip tightens on your bruises. He laughs in your face, and you hold your breath at the foul smell.

“Lucky me,” he sneers, “I found myself a fighter.”

You meet his eyes, refusing to show him any fear. Your stomach turns as he strokes your face.

He leans in, repulsive breath against your ear. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

Next Chapter

ao3