#i fucked up his head he looked like megamind in the second

[sillyfriendssharingablog]

third wheeling Third throught the years

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 20

PREVIOUS

FF had watched more than a few self-defense videos when he believed that Andrew Minyard was looking for a dark alley to stab him in. He had learned how to turn the attacker’s momentum against them. Had learned about disarming the person trying to stab him.

He’d even had Matt teach him a few punches claiming that it was for the dust-ups that tended to happen on the court.

He, naturally, does not use any of that knowledge because his mind immediately reverts into Lizard panic mode the moment Jackson Plank takes another step forward with a knife (HUGE. Is it wild that he is thinking about Crocodile Dundee right now?)

“If you come quietly you won’t get hurt.” Jackson says and he reverts to who he is as a person and he freezes. His bravery was used up maybe it was only ever tied to great pump up songs and now in the silence of the alley he is back to being Stone-Faced Smith.

“You’re going to dial up Wesninski and if you don’t say EXACTLY what I tell you to then I’m going to have you SING in agony.”

Y’know in that moment he stops thinking about Crocodile Dundee.

He thinks about a movie that is far more ingrained in his mind than any number of self-defense videos or one-off lessons with Matthew Boyd where he’d been trying not to flinch. A movie he had watched in better days with his family and had been a favorite of his Grandma’s (and his).

He thinks about Miss Congeniality.

Sandra Bullock as Gracie Hart has taught him everything he ever truly needs to know when he takes a step back and Jackson comes at him.

He strikes right at Jackson’s nose with the palm of his hand.

“SON OF A-“

The knife is dropped and FF kicks it under a dumpster.

FF grabs the single weapon he has on his person.

The McDonald’s Megamind Happy Meal Light Effects Brainbot.

He points the LED light straight at Jackson’s eyes and just like Aaron in the car on the way back, “Shit, that’s bright!” And now completely blinded by a combination of watery eyes and LED McDonald’s toy he proceeds to SING just as Gracie Hart had taught him.

S - Solar Plexus. He punches Jackson there as hard as he can.

I - Instep. He smashes his booted foot down on the inside of Jackson’s shoes (who the fuck wears LOAFERS to a kidnapping?)

N - Nose. He’d feel bad about hitting it again if Jackson wasn’t y’know…a hitman out to hurt Captain Neil.

G - Groin. He may have to give himself just half a second to apologize to all of mankind for what he is about to do. His step brothers had definitely kicked him in the groin plenty of times to try and get a reaction. It’s an art to not let anyone know that your ball has retreated up into lower intestine. He kicks Jackson as hard as he can (collegiate athlete) with the boots that Nicky had let him borrow. He is right on target with the toe of his shoes.

Jackson goes down.

The next thing he does is not something Gracie Hart had taught him but does still feel like the right thing to do in this situation. He kicks Jackson in the head and the man goes limp.

If FF throws both hands up in the air and lets out a “I am Miss Congeniality!” Victory cry into the alleyway well no one is around or awake to know that.

He feels like he deserves a sash and a crown and some flowers.

He looks down at Jackson and then over at the van the man had hopped out of. He was definitely PLANNING on kidnapping Captain Neil so he probably has like…some kind of restraint?

Well, better to completely subdue this guy before he tries to figure out the game plan for Romero. Wait, what’s that next to the Crocodile Dundee knife, are those...?

***

Roland is calling for a second time.

Andrew had let it go to voicemail the first time. It was usually Roland complaining about Nicky, Aaron, or Kevin doing something exceptionally stupid in their inebriated states. They have a system. Roland will call and leave a voicemail detailing the dumb shit his family has gotten up to and then he’ll let it go.

If Roland calls twice then there’s an issue.

Arm still around Neil’s shoulders he answers the phone, “What.” He asks.

“You need to help your new friend. There’s some guy following him, he’s armed and dangerous and looking for someone to grab to get Neil’s attention. He tried to lead the guy outside but he’s standing watching it for now so there might have already been someone waiting?” Roland gets out in a rush and Andrew is up and moving towards the stairs even as he’s closing the phone to disconnect the call.

Neil, of course, is right on his heels. “What is it? Did something happen?” Neil asks and they are up the stairs and pushing past Frank and his stupid pineapple shirt. Andrew spots Nicky and he spots Aaron.

“Get Nicky and Aaron somewhere safe. I need to go help Smith with something.” He says because whoever this is wants Neil and Andrew will not let Neil get within grabbing distance and won’t mention it. Neil, blessedly, does what Andrew asks without question.

Andrew scans the crowd and finds a man whose gaze goes between his phone and the back door.

A face that Andrew had memorized.

One of Nathan’s surviving men.

In the same Zip Code as Neil.

And that man has the audacity to still be breathing.

He looks and Nicky and Aaron (drunk, drugged, and useless because Andrew had wanted them to be) are with Neil and Roland is directing them to the backroom.

Andrew goes out the alley and can feel Romero’s eyes on him.

He’s prepared for a lot of things to see out in that alley. He’s angry that FF hadn’t just come down and grabbed him and Neil (he does not need TWO martyrs) and he wants to know what the fuck FF was thinking (or if he was thinking at all). Even with that anger he does not wish to see FF’s blood spilled all over an alleyway because Andrew’s family needed to be protected and FF was the only one sober enough and aware enough to do it.

He knows what Nathan’s men are capable of.

Knows that Romero was one of Nathan’s best so if there is someone out in the alleyway then it’s likely one of his other bests.

FF doesn’t even know how to use a knife. He had asked and FF had firmly declined every time Andrew had brought it up after the first fainting incident. “I’m not interested in learning that. No.” Had been the standard response.

He knew FF had at least taken a lesson or two from Boyd on throwing a punch considering the one he shot out a week ago when a Striker came at him after the third time FF intercepted a pass.

Still, Andrew had not anticipated coming out into the alleyway and finding an unharmed FF securing an unconscious Jackson Plank’s arms behind his back with fuzzy handcuffs.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks and FF looks up at him with a flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault this is a weird sex alleyway! They’re the first thing I found on my way over to the van to look for actual restraints.” FF says immediately and Andrew almost laughs at the insanity of it. “Wait, where’s Captain Neil?” FF looks around nervously.

“He’s with Aaron and Nicky in the backroom. Roland gave me your S.O.S.” Andrew says even as he quickly makes his way away from the door and towards FF. “Romero is watching the door. Let’s give him a reason to come out.” He says going over to Jackson and when he rolls the man over he raises an eyebrow at the piss stain on his pants and the blood dripping down his nose.

He looks to FF who resolutely does not look back at him.

It’s a story he’ll get out of his friend eventually. Looks like FF didn’t really need those knife lessons. Something settles a bit more in Andrew, it’s nice to have someone else in their group that could handle themselves in a fight.

Andrew finds a phone and FF rolls Jackson back onto his stomach, “He could choke on his own blood.” He shrugs and Andrew wouldn’t care if Jackson choked on his own blood in fuzzy handcuffs in a back alley but he can understand FF not wanting a murder charge.

Andrew looks at the phone and sees the the swipe pattern clear as day. It takes him two tries to get the order right but then Jackson’s phone is available for him to get over to the texting app.

The texts he reads there make him angry. There were a lot of plans on what the two of them were going to do to Neil before his body was offered up to a different crime family to show that Romero and Jackson had no loyalty left to the Wesninski line.

He types out a text to Romero that will have the jackass come out thinking everything had gone well and they had two hostages. He looks over to FF, “You ready for round two?” He asks.

“There isn’t a tap out option right?” FF asks and Andrew laughs at the joke.

Always cool under pressure it seems.

“No.”

“Then yeah, I guess just hit send.” FF says with a shrug.

Andrew does just that.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

Didn’t wanna leave ya’ll hanging on that particular cliffhanger for too long ;)

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Megamind Au for @fanofstuff02 Hope you like it!

You see the guy there? The one trying to grab the ray gun in mid air? That's me.

I've been having a pretty shitty week so far. I've trained a psychopath with magic powers, lied to the love of life, and got my ass beat pretty good.

But maybe I should back up a bit.

Many years ago, I escaped my dying planet with only the clothes on my back and the orphaned baby girl that I saved. It didn't us long to come to this new planet named earth.

It also didn't take us long to be introduced to the legal system there, our home was pretty much the prison for the longest time. This was how I met him, Michael or his found name The General. You know, because he was “The General” of defending forces or some shit. How fucking boring can you be?

Well I came up with a far better and way more fitting name for myself.

The Devil.

Sera walks down the hall of the prison and knocks on the glass scaring Peter. "Read on your own time. Open up." He did as he was told. Sera went to the glass and didn't see Lucifer anywhere. "Hey!"

"Boo!" Lucifer jumped out of nowhere scaring Sera. He started laughing like a crazy man as he sat in his twirling chair. He gave her a devilish smile "Good morning Sera, dear, how’s it going for you?"

Sera bristled. "I'm not-"

Lucifer interrupted. "Good news, I’m a changed man now! Ready to make a fresh start in the society as a trusteable citizen!"

The warden stifled a laugh. "You’re not as smart as you claim if you really think you’d be trustworthy! You are a fucking villain and you’ll never change and you'll never leave."

Lucifer blinked but kept his smile. "You're fun you know that?"

Sera clicked her tongue looking beyond unimpressed. "Someone sent you a little gift."

"Oh is it a duckling?"

"No." Sera deadpanned. "Oh look, it’s from The General! For you to count the every second of your 66 life sentences. Now that’s fun, never would’ve thought General would care about a piece of garbage he put in prison." She placed it on her wrist. "Oh but he does have good style. You know, I think I’ll keep this."

Lucifer grinned wider. "Can you do me a favor and tell me the time? I don’t want to be late for his huge museum opening."

Sera rolled her eyes and glances down at the watch. "Oh no, looks like you’re gonna miss it. With several thousand years." She said snidly before walking away.

Lucifer just hummed softly. "Mm, I don’t think so." He could wait, he had time. And oh boy he didn't have to wait long. The guards brought in Sera who was disguised as him. When placed in his seat, Lucifer stole the watch back.

"No you fools, he tricked us." Sera said weakly.

Lucifer grinned evilly. "You're right." He changed into Sera. "I'll always be a villian. Muwahahahaha!" Lucifer took off out of the prison.

His daughter Charlie was waiting for him in the car. "Hello there father!"

"Charlie you amazing daughter you! Good job getting me the watch sweetie." Lucifer got in the car and sped for downtown, he changed back to normal.

They had a news reporter to kidnap.

"Make sure to come on down for the General day celebrations. I'm Adam Kadmon, for 69 news." Adam gave the signal to his camera man Alastor to turn the camera off.

Alastor smiled. "And cut, that was amazing the stuff they get you to say."

Adam crossed his arms. "I wrote that piece myself Al."

"Oh, well it's amazing they let such art on the news."

Adam rolled his eyes playfully. "Good save."

Alastor places his camera in the news van. "Why don't we, uh, blow this joint?"

"Oh come on we can stay and enjoy the General day celebrations!" Adam gestured around, it was a beautiful day with clear sunny skies.

Alastor frowned and looked away. "Well if I was the General, the Devil wouldn't be Kidnapping you all the time." He started going on this long rant, Adam learned to tune him out years ago.

All Adam can do is shake his head. Yeah getting kidnapped was annoying but it also got him paid leave. What he didn't notice was the invisible window rolling down. A nozzle was aimed at Adam's face spraying him in the face. "What the-" Adam felt dizzy, he fell back as his world went dark.

Charlie grabbed him before Adam hit the ground and drove off. Lucifer smiled wide as Adam was laid across his back seat unconscious. "We met again, news reporter Adam Kadmon.~"

Adam came to a while ago tied to a chair in Lucifer's lab. He was rather annoyed. "You promised me that you’d get me ribs the last time you kidnapped me."

Lucifer sucked air through his teeth. "Sorry darling, I was in a rush you know, just escaped from prison and stuff. Would the next time be okay?" He said sweetly, honestly they spent so much time together over the years he should have food on hand for Adam.

"Would be but there won’t be a next time."

Lucifer raised a brow at him as he took a seat. "That's what you think. There will be a time after this and another after that."

Adam could only shake his head. "Why though? I don't exactly do much but sit here and look good."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair , grin never leaving. "We all have our part to play and the helpless damsel is yours."

That pissed Adam off. "Fuck you I'm not helpless. And you're not scary."

Lucifer scoffed and stood up getting closer to Adam. "Oh I’m not scary?! So you wouldn’t be scared if you saw these eyes at night?!"

Adam merely smirked. "Why would I be scared by piss yellow? I mean, I guess blood red could work, theoretically, but still." It was always fun getting under this guys skin.

Lucifer heard Charlie try to hold back a laugh. He shot her a look that made her giggles die down. "OH SO THE HORNS ARE SO NORMAL!?" He pointed to the horns protruding from his head.

Adam shrugged. "They look like you stuck two pipes on your head and then painted them red."

Lucifer felt his eye twitching, Adam was very pretty to look at but very sassy in the attitude department. "What about these?" He extended his six wings as far as he could to show them off.

Adam started laughing. "Pfft! Six poofy small wings? Scary? Are you shitting me?" He laughed a little more. "You look like you belong at a Comicon, you'll fit in with all the other short nerds."

"Excuse me!? What about these claws!" He flexed his claws close to Adams face.

The news reporter didn't flinch. "Yeah they look sharp, but they're dirty. Scariest thing there is the infection you could give someone."

Lucifer removed his hand, offended. "Hey! They are not that dirty." He started picking at his nails, sure enough some dirt was there. "You're mean for a news reporter."

Adam smiled. "Growing up on the streets hardens you like that."

Lucifer was taken aback by this, he never would have guessed that Adam had a difficult upbringing. "You grew up...?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "You heard me."

"Right." They say in silence for a long beat. "You know I also had a-"

"I don't care, man."

It was Lucifer's turn to shake his head "Wow okay, trying to have a moment."

Adam ignored him. "We have nothing in common man, you grew up in prison. My childhood may not have been perfect but it wasn't terrible." *

It made him rhinky about when his dad died. Adam didn't like to think about it. "I lived."

Lucifer hummed. "We have more in common than you think. The streets of Pentagram City are rough like prison. Just a matter of a building."

Adam blinked at him. "...... Are you a villain or a therapist?"

"I have time I can do both." He merely shrugged.

Adam groaned, he didn't have time for this. "Ugh, I wanna go home my shows on."

Lucifer looked around. What would it hurt? "I can get the tv for you if you want, we still have plenty of time."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Dad, I broke the tv last week." Charlie admitted nervously.

Lucifers jaw dropped. "Charlie! And you're just now telling me?"

Adam couldn't contain the laugh that found it's way out. "Oh, don't ever change Charlie, you're too funny."

"Thanks Adam!"

Lucifer scowled. "I'm funny!"

"Funny looking maybe."

Charlie giggled at that and earned a glare from her dad. "Sorry."

"Look here mister sassy pants." Lucifer went up and walked behind Adam and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Don't forget you're in my house, at my mercy."

Adam wasn't scared, by now he knew that Lucifer was all bark and no bite. "Oooou I'm so scared. I've been here, what? Maybe two hours? And the most you've done is touch my shoulder."

Lucifer, smirkes as he ran his hands up Adams neck to his hair, the soft brown locks tangled in his fingers before going back. He didn't miss the flinch. "Wait, are you ticklish?" Oh this was rich.

Adam scoffed. "No! Don't be dumb. Hey! Sto- HAHAHA!!"

"Awww." Charlie thought the moment was rather cute.

Lucifer chuckled. "Who's not funny now?"

"AHAHHA! NO- STILL NOT YOU! HAHAHHHHAH!" Adam laughed loudly, he was laughing so hard he was crying.

"Charlie get the camera!" Lucifer wanted to record this. Add to his collection.

"Charlie no! HAHA!"

"Charlie yes!"

Charlie grabbed the camera. "Got it!"

"STAHP!!! HAHAHA!! NO FAAAAIR HAHAHA!!"

Lucifer grinned even wider. "Evil is never fair dear." He moved to tickle Adams ribs.

The brunette howled with laughter. "NOO!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" Adam tried to wiggle away from the devilish fingers tickling him. He did manage to free his right hand at some point.

Lucifer was elated, never has Adam been so much at his mercy. "HAHA! Now I’m-"

"Ah ha!" Adam reached back to touch one of Lucifer's wings.

Lucifer was stunned. "How’d you-!" He couldn't dwell on it long cause Adam's hand brushed his wing. "DON'T TOUCH-" He couldn't help the cooing sound that left his mouth. He was fucking mortified.

It was Adams turn to be stunned. "What. The fuck. Was that?"

Lucifer turned red, he was glad Adam couldn't see his face. "YOU HEARD NOTHING!!"

Adam giggled, not believing what he heard. "Awww, the big, evil, strong Devil, coos like a fucking bird!? HA!" Adam laughed a little more. "That's rich."

Lucifer would take any victory no matter how small. "Ha! You said I'm evil and strong I have that shit recorded!"

Adam thought if he rolled his eyes anymore they'd fall out if hus damn head. "Whatever man, do it again. These are actually real?" He made a move to touch them again, only for Lucifer to step out of reach.

"Yes they are real! Don't touch. Charlie be a dear and get the handcuffs the rope seems faulty."

"Don't be a baby! Can I get a bottle of water I think I cried all my fluids out." Adam asked her nicely and the girl couldn't help but comply.

"Sure Adam!"

Lucifer slapped himself on the forehead. "Charlie......" Sometimes she was a little too nice.

"Thank you, Charlie." Adam said sweetly.

Lucifer growled. "Handcuffs first!"

"You can’t keep kidnapping me if I die out of thirst right?"

"Meh."

Wow, real nice Adam thought bitterly. Charlie pranced over to them. "Here Adam! And here are the handcuffs dad!"

Adam drank the cool water as Lucifer waited impatiently so he could cuff his hands behind his back. When he was done Adam felt Lucifer click the cuffs on him, he swore it was just his imagination when he felt a clawed hand linger near his.

The sound of a timer beeping broke the moment. "OH! IT’S TIME! IT’S TIME SWEETIE!" Lucifer cheered, he was sure today was going to be the day he bested The General!

"You're such a nerd." Adam commented. Lucifer came over and placed a rag in his mouth. "Mmph!"

"Shhh." Lucifer ran a finger along Adams jawline and stopped at his chin. Adam's honey brown eyes narrowed and he spat out the rag, it hit Lucifer in the face. "Really?"

"Boo. Yes, really."

The General gasped when he saw Adam on the holographic screen. "Adam! Don't worry I'll save you from that evil monster."

Adam merely blinked, used to this. "Not in danger big guy." Lucifer and Michael bantered back and forth until Michael flew for where they were only for it to be empty. Adam braced for impact only to be confused when nothing happened. "Huh?"

Lucifer chuckled and pushed a button opening the wall. "You didn't think you were in the real observatory did you, Adam?"

Well this was a first. "Well shit."

Lucifer grinned he felt so triumphant. "OH SHIT INDEED! Get the death ray ready Charlie!"

"Death ray, readying!" She pushes a button, the death ray up in space got ready.

Lucifer projected himaelf from a hologram in the real observatory. "Over here old friend ~ In case you haven’t noticed, you fell right to my trap!"

"You can't trap justice! It's an idea, a belief, a-"

"Boring! Ugh, you're boring. And now you die! Right...... now!" Everyone blinked when nothing happened. "Charlie dear, shoot him."

"Yes dad just as soon as it's done charging."

Lucifer could not fucking believe this. "Charlie! I told you to have shit ready to go, I've told you countless times."

"Oh look your plan is failing." Adam mocked with a smirk.

"Quiet sassy!"

"Is that my contact in your phone? Sassy?"

"Maybe if you gave me your number."

"As if."

Lucifer sighed, well this was a bust. "This plan really shit the bed. Chao all!" He started to leave.

"Same time next Thursday?" Adam asked half sarcastic. Charlie came over to untie Adam.

"Titty sprinkles!"

Everyone paused. "Did he just say titty sprinkles?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer came back over. "What the fuck?"

Michael hit the walls but couldn't break them. "Fish crackers! I’M TRAPPED!"

"Oh lord. Did you hit your head while getting here or some shit? What kind of tricks are you playing?" Lucifer would nor fall for any hero tricks.

"You devilish maniac! Your dark powers finally paid off!"

"It has?" What the fuck was he playing at!?

Michael laid on the ground. "This dome- Is obviously covered with steel!"

"Yeah so?"

"Umm, dad?" Charlie pointed to the ray that was about to shoot.

"Steel.. It drains my powers..!"

"Your weakness… Is steel? Seriously?" This was hard to believe for Lucifer. The death ray went off and the real observatory blew up, the explosion shook the ground and Lucifer was hit by a flying object which turned out to be Michaels skeleton. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

Adam couldn't believe what he was seeing, The General couldn't be dead. "Oh my god....."

Charlie came over to stand by her dad. "You....... You did it dad."

Lucifer almost didn't register the words. "I did it..... HOLY SHIT I DID IT!! THE PENTAGRAM CITY IS MINE!!" He cheered and jumped for joy. After all these years!

Adam's jaw dropped. "What the fuck just happened......."

Lucifer turned to face Adam and smirked, he walked over to him feeling ten feet tall. "THAT my dear Adam," he grabbed his chin and tilted his head up to lock eyes with him. "Is victory." He grinned wider, for the first time Adam actually looked genuinely worried.

Okay I would be pretty scared if I saw this at night, Adam thought as Lucifer's demonic glowing red and yellow eyes bore into his own sending a shiver down his spine. "W-what are you gonna do now?"

"NOT SO COCKY NOW, ARE WE?! HAHA! Oh are you scared now? Don't worry, I won't hurt you Adam." His hold on Adams chin was firm, his grin never leaving. Adam flicked his gaze away, Lucifer's eyes were too intense. "Awww are you shaking?" Was he? Adam hadn't noticed, he was too afraid.

Good, maybe now Adam would take him and his villianly seriously. "Charlie, be a dear and take Adam home. We have much planning to do."

"Yes dad." Charlie untied Adam and blind folded him and guided him out. He was so numb he didn't fight her.

It didn't take long before he was dragged to the front of his apartment building. Charlie removed the blind fold. "Sorry, we’re just so happy, can you blame us?"

Adam looked at her, still numb. "I..... Can't."

Charlie stood there little awkwardly. "So uh, see ya. Or we won’t, and also we won’t be here to kidnap you this Thursday as I guess." Adam didn't answer her. "Oh and dad made this for you. For your help all these years. We saved it for our winning day." She gave him a rubber duck, it looked like him. Charlie got back in the car and left Adam all alone.

"Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me." As he looked at the rubber duck.

What fresh Hell awaited him and the rest of the city?

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hello, paladins.”

“Kolivan,” Allura greets, nodding her head at him. “You sent word that you’ve found something of importance?”

Kolivan hesitates for a moment, which is something Keith’s never seen from him before. It makes something churn in his stomach.

“It would be more accurate to say they found us,” Kolivan says. “It’s easiest if I simply show you. May I?”

Shiro steps forward, next to Allura. He puts a hand on her shoulder. It’s a testament to both of their strength that Allura doesn’t immediately grimace and throw him off.

They’ve been fighting a lot, lately.

“Show us what?” Shiro asks.

“A video, from one of our Blades.”

Allura and Shiro look at each other, silently communicating for a moment. As not-funny as the situation is, Keith does find it funny that despite the fact that they have a screaming match at least once a day, they know each other seemingly better than anyone else on the team, to the point where verbal communication is beneath them, apparently.

“Show us,” Allura says. Kolivan nods, and moments later a file appears on the holoscreen. Shiro taps it, and shaky footage begins to play.

The first thing visible, once the camera settles, is the bridge of a Galran warship. Several high-ranking officials are present, although — are they bound?

“Give it up, Storax.” The voice is deep and distorted, out of frame. The largest Galran soldier — a general, based on his uniform — sneers at whomever is speaking.

“It is not over until you and all vermin like you are crushed under my heel,” the general snarls. He turns his head and spits. “Until your kind is submissive under my hand.”

Loud, stomping footsteps echo through the room as a figure steps forward. They’re not tall — at least not by Galran standards — and very willowy, although their shoulders are broad. They wear a black, skin-tight suit under flexible armour, and a large helmet with a tinted view-shield.

“Oh, I’m shaking in my baby-seal leather boots,” they mock, sticking up a boot in question.

“Hey, wait a second,” Hunk says from beside Keith. “That’s — that’s a reference! A human reference!”

“That’s from Megamind!” Pidge agrees.

Coran hushes them gently, and Keith turns his attention back to the screen. Clearly the general has noticed the strange words as well, because he blinks in confusion. Then a slow, evil smirk spreads across his face.

“Well, I’ll be,” he says, leaning back. “If it isn’t my desert lily.”

The figure stiffens immediately. Their fists clench.

“I’m not your fucking lily,” they snarl. Keith can’t see their expression through their helmet, but their tone alone gives Keith chills.

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice,” continues the general. He gives the figure a long, slow look, up and down. Leering. “I’d know that figure anywhere.”

The figure stands in tense silence. They stand so still they barely appear to be alive, were it not for the waves of silent fury Keith could feel even through the screen.

“I was not a cruel person,” they say. “Not before you, Storax. In fact —“ he unholsters one of the pistols at his belt, and before Keith can even blink, fires shot after shot to the Galran soldiers bound on either side of them. Each bullet leaves a neat hole in the centre of the soldiers’ foreheads before they slump over. The figure hadn’t even looked to aim.

“I was going to kill all of you quickly, before I blew up your ship. But you?”

For the first time since the figure spoke, the general looks at them in some kind of fear. He swallows roughly.

“I’ll look forward to seeing your eyes pop out of your head,” the figure spits. The stride over to the general and rip of his helmet, throwing it to the ground. They lift their leg and stomp on it, shattering the reinforced material.

“Please,” the general says quietly. He seems to finally realize that this is the end for him, and it will not end well.

“Rot,” the figure stays, venomous. Without moving their gaze from the general, they point directly at the video — or, rather, the person attached to the camera.

“Blade,” they say. The video shakes, as if the Blade had startled. “In three seconds, I am going to press a button that will deactivate your cuffs. You are then going to run to the east wing hangar, where you will find my ship. My ship has a bomb attached to it, set to go off in twelve doboshes. My quintessence is the only thing that will deactivate that bomb. If you leave without me, the ship will blow up with you in it. If you do not get on the ship, this warship will blow up with you on it, and you will not bring your intel back to the base. Make a decision wisely.”

A click sounds loud enough to be heard through the video. The camera moves again, as if the Blade shifted their arms.

“Go.”

The camera shakes heavily as the Blade sprints, presumably towards the east wing. The next time the camera has settled enough for the video to be visible, the interior of a small cargo ship becomes obvious, with a small, flashing contraption at the entrance.

“That looks like a human pipe bomb,” Keith notes aloud. Shiro turns just to give him a Look, like he always does when Keith brings up explosives of any kind.

Keith only shrugs. His thing for bombs and shit has only helped since they got into space. He’s sure as hell not apologizing.

Suddenly, a deafening boom rocks the ship. Seconds later, the figure from the bridge comes sprinting down the hallway visible from the ship, chunks from the ceiling collapsing all around them. They barely manage to throw themselves into the ship and slam the doors shut before the entire Galran warship explodes into flames, the tiny cargo ship making a speedy getaway with the figure in the pilot’s seat.

As they put more distance between their ship and the warship, they lean over, pressing their hand to the top of the flashing pipe bomb until it stops flashing.

“Thank you,” comes a quiet voice from behind the camera. The Blade.

The figure doesn’t respond.

“How did… how did you know I was a Blade?“

“Stop asking questions,” the figure says. “I’m dropping you off at your base with your intel, and then I’m getting the hell out of dodge. If you speak again I’ll drop you in front of the base’s thrusters.”

Wisely, the Blade shuts up.

After several moments of frankly uncomfortable silence, the figure speaks up.

“Voltron.”

The Blade waits for more of a sentence, but none is forthcoming.

“Yes…?” he says, prompting.

The figure clears their throat. “Tell me about them.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done, but you have to know that information about Voltron is classified and highly sensitive.”

“I fucking know that,” the figure says, scowl evident in their voice. “I’m not asking for their damn secrets or locations or anything, Jesus. I just mean… are they okay?”

“…Okay?”

“Alive, dumbass. All the paladins. They’re good?”

“…oh. The blue one was killed, some time ago. The rest are alive, I believe. My last check-in was several quintants ago, however, so my intel may not be accurate.”

The figure’s shoulders droop, making Keith aware of how tense they were previously.

“The blue one is… dead?”

“From my understanding, yes.”

“How has Voltron worked, then?”

“I must confess I do not know.”

“…Alright, then.”

The rest of the video progresses in silence as the figure pilots smoothly to the base, dropping the Blade off as promised and then flying away. The video stops, then, and Kolivan turns back to look at the team.

“We’re not sure what to make of them,” he says. “The intel they collected and gave to the Blade included plans and pathways for the warships of several officers close to Haggar’s operation. The figure seems to speak like you humans, and asked about you specifically.”

“They’re awfully concerned about L — about him,” Allura murmurs, voice cracking on Lance’s name.

Keith swallows roughly.

“I’ve sent that intel to you,” Kolivan says gently — gently by his standards, anyway — after a moment. “We would appreciate any insight you may have.”

“We’ll look over it,” Shiro promises. “Thank you, Kolivan.”

Kolivan nods, and then the holoscreen goes dark.

[elf-kid2]

I posted 33,439 times in 2022

43 posts created (0%)

33,396 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@phoenixyfriend

@fremblem

@lynati

@yetanothergreyjedi

@dahbeeh

I tagged 56 of my posts in 2022

#writing prompts - 4 posts

#my writing - 3 posts

#christmas - 3 posts

#writing - 3 posts

#megamind - 3 posts

#tumblr - 3 posts

#stories - 3 posts

#writing prompt - 2 posts

#goncharov - 2 posts

#unreality - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#dcbatfamilybatmannew villain in gotham: uhhh why is that crime lord not invited to the annual fuck batman party??seasoned villain: that's ba

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Strange Magic: Hallmark Holiday Remix!

That’s right, Valentine’s Day is coming up, and I have time on my hands, so you’re getting a Classic Romcom Holiday Remix, for your reading pleasure!

(If anyone actually writes this, that would be BEYOND delightful! Just sayin’.)

Featuring!

Rolland Knightly: he’s very busy Businessman who’s returning to his old Hometown for the holidays! Will he find True Love and the True Meaning of Christmas while he’s there? Let’s wait and find out!

Claudia Sweets: she’s the owner of an adorable Hometown Bakery, on a mission to Save the Christmas Charity Ball! But with everything going on, it might just take... a  Christmas Miracle!

Marianne Summers: she’s a highly stressed Businesswoman looking forward to meeting her fiance Rolland’s family over the holidays. But things aren’t going as smoothly as she’d hoped...

Bog King: He’s a high-power Businessman who hates Christmas for undisclosed reasons! He’s either hoping to close a lucrative deal with Marianne & Rolland’s Company before Christmas, or he’s coincidentally visiting family and staying in the same quaint B&B as Marianne. One thing’s for sure-- he is NOT looking for romance this Holiday Season!

Join us on a delightful Holiday romp where SOME people embrace the true Magic of Christmas... and OTHER people are angry cynics who care about details like fidelity in committed relationships, or financial planning for things other than Christmas presents! It’s the most magical time of the year!

22 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

#4

Shera Fandom Fic-Recs

Here’s some fun recommendations for you! If you enjoy any of them, please make some writers happy and let them know in the Comments!

The Fraternization of the Fiend and the Flibbertigibbet: At his very core, Hordak is a conqueror. He will do whatever is needed in order to win, whether that entails building an empire out of a broken ship, attempting to clone his failing body, or even marrying an Etherian princess to secure advanced weaponry. 

Prisoner: The raid on the Fright Zone was a resounding success. They got Adora back. They got the sword back. Nobody managed to open any reality-destroying portals. And somehow, amid all the chaos, thrown lab equipment, and pieces of ceiling raining down on their heads, they got Hordak. Now Hordak is in the spare room. Hordak. What in the world are they supposed to do with him?

Aftermath: Building a Life for (Dummies) Clones: Horde Prime is dead. Etheria is safe. The clones are free. Now what?

Intimacy Log: Hordak’s body is finally his own. Now he just needs to figure out what he wants to do with it. Thankfully, Entrapta is here to help.

Double Date: Adora and Catra (mostly Adora) invite Hordak and Entrapta to have dinner at their house. Not one of them possesses an ounce of social grace, but somehow, they have a good time anyway.

Tremble Before Her: With both their commanding officers gone, the remnants of Catra's old squad find themselves turning to an unlikely ally: Entrapta.

Love and Blindness: Entrapta knows Hordak's fate isn't decided yet, and she can't keep him safe if he's dragged off to a jail cell to face charges.  So, she spirits him away off the battlefield.  It is a desperate choice, one she knows her friends will not understand.  But she's already lost him once. She can't lose him a second time.

Birth... Or at least, what passes for it among our people: After the Great Disconnect, the Velvet Glove drifts idly in stable Etherian orbit.  Turned into a verdant jungle by She Ra, it exists as both a ship and living vegetation, and it is still home to a small group of Brothers who never came down to the planet's surface. There are many mysteries aboard the Glove, now commonly called the "Velvet Grove" by those who live there.  And one of the greatest mysteries is....what happened to all those cloned Brothers who were silently sleeping and growing in their vitrines?

Care and Habilitation of Your Ex-Horde Clone: In which a well-meaning Etherian woman volunteers to adopt a cloned Brother; and, due to the nature of this Brother's designation, there is a Misunderstanding on what that entails.

Frozen Fervor: In the throne room of Castle Chill,  Entrapta finds herself lonely and disappointed amid a throng of partying aristocrats. Surmisably, an oddball “geek princess”, whose kingdom has not yet joined the Alliance and at the same time engages into active trade with the Fright Zone, garners little acceptance in the “All Princess Ball.” In spite of the Alliance’s demands, a quiet leave-taking might serve as her best option. Meanwhile, a shadowy creature waits for a storm to abate, so he can journey to the arctic regions to court a Princess with whom he has desperately fallen in love, hoping against hope he will not arrive too late…

37 notes - Posted August 24, 2022

#3

October is Megamind Month!

What is Megamind Month, you ask? Why it’s that WONDERFUL time of year when we come out and celebrate all things Megamind, as a fandom!

How can I participate in this exciting and deliciously evil event, you ask? Well I shall TELL YOU of the many horrifically wicked options you have before you!

Gift Exchange: In which you create and gift a piece of Megamind-fan Writing or Art, and receive a similar gift in exchange! (Message me for full details. Must contact me by September 10 to participate.)

Make Some Art: There are a lot of talented writers and artists out there-- and Megamind Month is the perfect time to strut your stuff! Draw a picture! Write a story! Do a Cosplay! Make a music-video! Show off your amazing powers of artistry through any and every medium that takes your fancy!

Fic-Rec Lists: Make and post a list of your favorite fics for this fandom! Spread the love, and share the links, to your favorite stories! It gives the writers more attention, and helps newcomers find the good stuff!

Comment & Reblog: You don’t have to make things to be part of the fandom! Just show some appreciation by reblogging art you like, and commenting on fanworks you happen to enjoy! It makes creators feel happy and appreciated-- and we all enjoy some nice enrichment in the enclosure!

See the full post

39 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#2

I think part of the tragedy of Catra and Hordak's relationship is that Catra might've been subconsciously hoping to find a father-figure in Hordak... But Hordak never once considered anyone other than Imp wanting or needing him in that role.

Mother-Shadow Weaver had made it abundantly clear that she'd never love Catra... But there's Hordak. The Higher Authority, the Bigger Bad, the looming-yet-mostly-absent male authority-figure in Catra's life... Granting her respect and approval and the Force Captain badge she's always wanted.

But it doesn't last.

She needed a mentor, but he hides in his lab and leaves her the face the wolves and the terrifying mountain of files and paperwork ALONE!

She needs guidance and advice; he's got violence and discipline to offer.

She needs a hand up to help her grow, and Hordak is an obstacle keeping her from the top of the ladder.

.

But why WOULD Hordak act fatherly towards a random soldier, like many other soldiers in his command?

He had no hand is raising her, beyond perhaps creating and approving resources for the Horde's orphanage/military academy.

He keeps ALL his subordinates at arm's length! He expects EVERYBODY to just do their jobs, without him holding their hands through it!

He's balancing atop a house of cards, hiding weaknesses and future plans, and he knows it.

Should he attempt *bonding* with an ambitious up-and-comer that his spy-son has proven to be untrustworthy? Does he even know how to *bond,* if he wanted to?

Was he expected to train somebody to replace him? He's sidestepped Shadow Weaver's attempts at power-grabbing for years. Was he meant to make it easy for her freahly-graduated student?

.

Hordak was never going to be Catra's Dad. I suspect that if she had any self-acknowledged hopes to that effect... The hopes were killed quickly.

The tragedy is, I can understand why she might have wanted that.

The tragedy is, I can see why the matter never once occured to him.

51 notes - Posted November 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Please Imagine the CumPlane Dynamic, as envisioned by Luo Mobei Jun, who knows that SQQ and SQH were acquainted in a past life, but is slightly confused on some of the details.

SQH, working at the "Teashop"(Brothel): Why are you here?

Shen Yuan: I am a paying customer, and I am here to drink tea at a tea-shop. This tea is weak, low-quality, and overpriced, by the way. WHY is this place so popular; I swear, this is not worth my money!

SQH: You are welcome to leave at any time, thank you for the entry-fee and for buying tea. Would you like to buy any of our... Special Snacks?

SY: Some tea-cakes would be lovely. You DO have good cakes here, even if the quality went significantly downhill since my favorite cook switched to 'dancing' in the VIP section. Waste of talent if you ask me; cooking is MUCH more enjoyable than anything else. But while I'm on the topic, you should redecorate, because there are FAR TOO MANY FLOWERS decorating that wall, and...

SQH: You can have input on the decorations IF you're willing to pay a SIGNIFICANT amount of money for the privilege. Now drink your tea and stop trying to scare away our customers.

SY: There's ANOTHER thing. The customers are so rude and loud! I'm certain that you could attract a better quality of client if you just take all my advice, improve the tea and the snacks, and change almost everything else to my specifications! As I said previously, if that one dancer would go back to cooking those delicious delicacies again...

SQH: We will not be changing things unless tea suddenly becomes more profitable than sex. Do you have ANYTHING you'd rather be doing right now?

SY: Nope; I have a lot of money and time on my hands, and I am fully prepared to sit here drinking tea and complaining about every single, solitary thing until you close. Now, I've prepared an hour-long speech on why your best dancer should go back to being the best cook in town...

SQH, aside: (I'd tell him to marry that dancer if he loved the food so much, but s/he's our biggest money-maker, and I am NOT about to risk my revenue on his weird romantic obsessions.)

82 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[buginateacup]

A little ficlet I may put on AO3 later, but for now blame @ejga-ostja for the prompt. “what if hot shameless flirt turns into soft nervous I like you actually“

~~~~~~~~~

"I'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be hearing from us Miss Ritchi!" Megamind shouted glibly as he rolled over to the control desk.

Roxanne rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah? Why's that? Finally going to take me out with your big powerful...” She smirked, “Laser?"

Gloved hands slammed down on polished steel as Megamind stood with his back to the battle deck, "No Miss Ritchi," He said quietly, then turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his voice slipping once more into Evil Supervillain Monologue mode, "No I think you'll find regardless of your superhero boyfriend coming to rescue you today or not, this will be the last you'll be seeing of me," He paused, "At least until I defeat Metro Man and take over the city of course,"

"Oh sure," Roxanne rolled her eyes but his face was uncharacteristically still. She stared at him, "You're serious?"

"I am."

"What. Why?" She demanded angrily.

"The reason is none of your concern-"

"Like hell it isn't!" She snapped, "Are you replacing me?"

"This is not up for discussion Miss Ritchi,"

"You are!"

"I am not!"

"Then why?"

"None of your business!"

"Fuck you! You've been kidnapping me for how long now? Don't you dare kick me out of the game without an explanation," Her eyes were furious, "You owe me."

Megamind looked away, then down, then up as though he was hoping he might get eaten by a stray murder of brain-bots and not have to explain himself. Finally he sighed, "Because I have found, Miss Ritchi," He clasped his hands around his elbows and paced back and forth, "That it is surprisingly difficult to threaten someone with certain death when you don't-" His mouth worked for a moment, "-don't actually want them to come to any harm." He stopped pacing, cloak sweeping around his ankles and faced her, arms crossed defensively in front of him.

Roxanne scoffed loudly, "Oh that's bullshit! Come on you don't even..."

His face was very grim, mouth pressed flat and he looked like he'd currently rather that he was the one tied to the chair surrounded by flame throwers.

Her eyes went very wide, "...like me?" She whispered faintly.

Megamind threw his hands up, "You couldn't have waited til after you returned home to figure it out? No of course not you've always been too smart by half."

He stalked around her chair and there was a twist at her wrists before he danced back frantically, "You might as well go home Miss Ritchi," He hugged the edge of the light, as far from her as he could manage and still be in the same room, "I imagine there's no chance of you being willing to stick around now,"

Roxanne stood cautiously, rubbing feeling back into her wrists, "I uh...I can go?" She was still reeling from the apparent confirmation that the supervillain who kidnapped her on a regular basis had a soft spot for her.

"Second door on the right, left past the speeider bot." Megamind gestured towards the shadows, "If you find the alligator tank you've gone too far," He went back to staring at the floor.

"Okay, um...thanks?" She took a step towards the direction he'd pointed, then another.

"Don't mention it," Megamind stayed over on the far side of the room, focused very intently on the toes of his boots, "Please don't mention it," He added in an undertone.

Roxanne reached the edge of the lit area, one more step and she'd be past the doorway and on her way out of the lair. "I'll see you around?" She called awkwardly and winced as her voice echoed around the room.

"Oh yes just you wait I'll have control of this city soon enough," His voice was very flat.

Roxanne cast a god help me look up towards the ceiling and turned and walked back towards Megamind, stopping a good three feet away from him, "Thank you," She said awkwardly, "For letting me go,"

He blinked at her very rapidly, then gave a sharp sort of shrug and looked away again.

Roxanne chewed her lip anxiously, damn nosy reporter instincts not letting her leave well enough alone, "I just have one question. When you said you don't want me to come to any harm did that-"

Megamind sighed and stared up at the ceiling, "I would really," His voice sounded painfully tired, "Really prefer not to get into it Miss Ritchi. At least leave me that dignity, please?"

"Okay," Roxanne nodded jerkily. She waited but he didn’t look at her again. She twisted her fingers together for a moment, then darted forward and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.

Megamind's head snapped around and he stared at her, gaping.

"You know...I like to get ice cream from Apollo's on Saturdays and walk along the lakeshore," Roxanne said quickly, taking a step back then stopping.

"Ice cream," Megamind repeated blankly.

"On the lake shore,"

"On the lake shore,"

"On Saturday,"

He nodded very faintly, looking somewhere between struck dumb and complete bafflement. Roxanne smiled nervously and turned and walked very quickly back to the door that would apparently lead her out of the Lair, "Two o'clock?" She called, then sprinted into the darkness before she let herself think about what she'd just done.

Megamind stood still as a statue for another two and a half minutes, his brain whirring trying to piece together words and thoughts over the warm humming sensation on his cheek. Ice cream...lakeshore...Saturday...two o'clock...Roxanne...

"MINION!"

[angelthebedsheet]

If you’re ok with it, could you do Hawks, Todoroki, Shinsou, Bakugo and Kaminari with a black support engineer s/o with big curly hair and stretched ears? Maybe she wears gauges with their hero theme? Just some cute fluff!

a/n: oooooh bitch okayyyyy!! i like that! hawks my lil bird bitch ✋🏽🥺

your quirk! super brain.

what is it? you have the ability to memorize things easily, piece complex puzzles together, make great strategies. you essentially are a megamind. you are incredibly smart invention-wise. you are skilled in support hero work so you are one of the go to’s for hero modifications, suits and basic designs.

hero name? hakim: the tinker hero

why the name hakim? from what i searched up it has arabic and african significance and it’s one of the 99 names based on the attributes of Allah. the two famous bearers of this name were hakim ajmal khan, the india physician and hakim muhammad saeed, a pakistani medical researcher. if i got any of this wrong please message me so i can fix this! i want to stay as respectful as possible as i love to include names that hold a message!

i might have to split this into two parts bc this gets long!! i just assumed reader is fem presenting bc you can use feminine pronouns and not be a girl like me. also disclaimer i only take 4 characters at a time per request but i dont think at the time of this request i had finalized my requirements in my masterlist so IMMA LET IT SLIDE. sorry this is late as SHIT. lets get it!

——————————————————————————

Hawks

okay we all know he’s a lil shit

and we all know how he be

you are working on your next commission piece in your studio when your window opens

you can only sigh

“what happened kei.”

“now birdie dont get mad now okay”

“what did you do.”

“i may have.... broke my visor and destroyed my jacket?”

how the fuck do you do that.

“what.”

“ahahah...”

boot to the face

when you two were first dating

which was back in hs

you helped him figure out how his hero costume would be along with how they would sit comfortably on his wings

i mean i love the idea of you roasting him while measuring him

“where’s your fuckin DRIP kei.”

“y/n PLEASE. i came here to get a new costume not get slandered”

“well you jus gon have to deal with it sugar, especially when you look like a mess.”

he had definitely bought you so many gauges that have little red feathers hanging from it

or simply his initials hanging from it to the point where you just wear one of his feathers around your neck

marking his territory and making sure you are safe

protective and trendy!

i hc that he has alot of bird like tendencies so you probably have to stop him from stealing the lil shiny things you have

your nuts and bolts allat

“keigo put my bolt down”

“but its so SHINY”

“NO.”

cue keigo’s WHINING

sometimes he just sits on his stool you put for him and play with your ears

like he’ll stare at them and ask you questions

“do they hurt?”

“kei im trying to focus”

“like they’re all stretched how long did they take?”

or he’ll bounce your curls

you’re just polishing a piece of hero gear

here comes kei silently sitting on his stool and gently grabbing a strand of your hair

pulling it down then you hear a quiet

“boing”

i hc that kei has adhd, has lil tic and has to fidget

(can you tell i self project onto majority of them)

(i mean hawks’ quirk must be IMMACULATE for fidgeting 😫👌🏽👌🏽)

(its dead his fault why i have a pretty bird tic)

and one day

“kei baby, here.” you said as you handed him a box. he cocked his head slightly as he looked at it. “what is this, dove?” he asked as he took the box. “well, i made you something to help with your fidgets.” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. his wings puffed out as he smiled. he opened the box and gasped. you watched as his eyes brightened while he took out the keychain fidget toy. it has multiple sides to it. metal rings connected by two hoops, red, white and beige plastic bangs that were at the ends with two small red feathers at the chains. you watched as he bit his lips and tried not to cause a big reaction. “do you like it, pretty bird?” you asked. he nodded and pulled you into a hug. “thank you so much, baby.” he said into your shoulder. “and you can hook it onto your pants. cute, right?” you said as you gently rubbed his back. “yep, i’m cuddling the fuck outta you. lets go.” he said as he let you go and sweeped you up into his arms. you squealed with a giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck as he ran to the bedroom.

Todoroki Shouto

yall are in hs okay no time skips lmao

todoroki loves EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU

i mean he has so many sneaky pics of you working on your projects

oil on the cheek, gloves, goggles

straight up working in your zone

he will post on his story sometimes like

“look at my s/o”

“they’re working hard”

dry ass cute shit yk?

he carries scrunchies and glass cleaners 24/7

you take your projects on the go so he’ll just take out a scrunchie and neatly pull them curls back into a pineapple

my mans lowkey was struggling at first bc DAMN

CURLS BE FIGHTIN HIM

love the idea of todoroki watching youtube tutorials bc he’s TIRED of getting his ass BEAT by them

he kinda gets a lil grossed out when you take out your gauges and your earlobe kinda just dangles

like earrings in? cool asf

them out? my mans fold like a lawn chair. he looks away or makes a stink face

“are they in?”

“yes they’re in you lil baby. you can try attempted murder but you can’t look at stretched earlobes?”

“shut UP”

he does internally swoon when you put in gauges that match his hair colour

like you love him that much? okay i see

he’s amazed by how you work

sometimes he’ll just stand behind you like a lil sibling in the door way

“mom said it’s my turn on the xbox.”

(not at how me and todoroki are both the youngest siblings)

when you saw his first hero costume you busted out LAUGHING

that day you roasted todoroki to the point where he left

“janitor looking ass. my nigga where you goin? a space adventure? scary ass.”

“😐 are you done.”

“space jam headass, lookin like a g.i joe action figure. terminator lookin ass.”

“alright im leaving”

“no wait come back andjajdjsba”

i hc that todoroki has panic and anxiety attacks and things like that

so you made him a little sumn sumn for his anxiety

“candy, look here for a second?” you called out, making todoroki hum and look up from his notebook. “what happened?” he asked as he cocked his head slightly. “made you something.” you said as you handed him a small box. his eyes light up as he gently took the box. “really? are you sure?” he questioned. you only nodded with a smile as you placed your pencil behind your ear. you watched as he carefully opened the box. he pulled out a tan clicker toy and smiled confused. “what’s this, bub?” he questioned as he placed the box down. “a fidget toy i made for you that can help with your anxiety. it can help ground you when you feel overwhelmed? hopefully? oh! it also has a music box feature.” you said as you pointed at the back of the toy. he silently turned the toy around and you leaned over and pressed a button that played a music box version of a pearl by mitski. you watched as his shoulders loosened up at the sound of his favorite song. he placed the toy down while he tried to hold his smile back. he sighed and smiled widely. “thank you, i love it, bubba.” he said sweetly. “i’m glad you like it.” you whispered. “may i kiss you?” he asked. you simply nodded before he gently cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. you pulled him into a hug.

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Shiny Big Blue Head: A Controversy

Shiny Big Blue Head: A Controversy by Odiously

“Alright class, today's the day,” Is the first thing class 2-A hears as Aizawa slams the sliding door to the class open, barely bothering with closing it as well. There's a huge stack of papers in his hands, everyone eyeing it warily as they all fear for the worst.

“Uh, sir?” comes a tentative conversation opening, Midoriya shakily raising his hand, “Were we supposed to prepare for a quiz?”

Aizawa stares dead at him, a crazed look to his eye that has everyone shivering. The tired man looks downright manic, close to a break, and they all worry not for their grades but for their safety, “Fuck no, I have something way better than that."

...huh?

Or: Aizawa's favorite film is a super controversial movie, banned after the now established Quirk Society to avoid any conflict of emotions that may come from said film. Is it a kid's movie? Yeah, maybe...but is it a movie masterpiece that should be seen by the entire world to spark as many arguments as possible by citizens with wild sympathetic responses? Also yes.

Words: 3135, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Shiny Big Blue Head: A Legacy

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Class 1-A, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kan Sekijirou | Vlad King, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Class 1-B, Shinsou Hitoshi, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Everyone, Todoroki Shouto & Uraraka Ochako

Additional Tags: Class 1-A Shenanigans, Class 1-A Friendship, Second Year Class 1-A, Chaotic Class 1-A, Crack Treated Seriously, class 2-A, excessive use of profanity, Todoroki is and edgy teen with the usual daddy issues, movie controversy, there are fights, physical and verbal, this is nothing serious I just wanted to make it seem like it was, featuring: Midoriya's muttering and hero worship, Bakugou thinks they're dumb, They are, Aizawa is feral, Present Mic is over it, Decade long feuds, Vlad is the one involved in said feud, All-Might is always confused he can't keep up with these whipper-snappers, mineta exists, Sadly, he has a good purpose tho, bullying of Mineta, featuring: Todoroki's controversial theories, everyone has conflicting feelings, Possible Spoilers, pre-proven traitor, This occurs after chapter 322 of the manga, Megamind References (Megamind 2010), Inspired by Megamind (Megamind 2010), Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-B

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35839507

[phineasandferbtheories]

Hi! Who's your favorite PnF character? And what headcanons do you have for them? x3

Oh ho ho ho my favorite character 😏

Hmmmmmm wondering.....

It’s fucking Ferb Fletcher

Alliteration at its finest.

First I’m explaining why because if you go through my blog you will find so. So much. Ferb content.

It’s not even my most liked content! That, my friend, goes to Perry the Platypus (my second favorite character, thank you very much). So, it isn’t about likes (like all good things are that aren’t about likes). So what is it?

Also side note I’ve already taken my sleep medication, one of which is an anxiety pill, so that’s why this is so. Hyper I guess is the word.

Scenario: you are a young, semi verbal, probably autistic kid. Your parents have already put you through speech therapy and blamed your sister when you didn’t want to talk, so help them. You also think 16 years old is the epitome of coolness and never want to be 16. You like TV, but more as a morbid fascination. You don’t see yourself on that screen, just caricatures of what you believe you’re going to grow up to be (you won’t, btw). 

Suddenly, there’s a show called Phineas and Ferb. It’s animated (which is already proving to be a preferred genre for you) and the people have weird shaped heads. You’ve seen commercials about it’s premiere but you didn’t think you’d see it! Later you learn it was a rerun, but besides the point! The characters appear and the triangle boy (you don’t remember names, of course) seems like a bitch but you don’t know that word so you don’t think it. You think it’s funny instead.

Then you have a realization. The F shaped boy isn’t.... talking??? He was in the main title! Has as much screen time as the triangle shaped boy! Oh, and triangle boy works with it, not pushing it away????

Do you know how fucking humanizing that feels? I was a kid. I didn’t even know what ableism meant. I still thought that my speech therapist was a baby sitter that played games with my sister and I! Now, Phineas and Ferb is not a perfect show. However. That was the first AND best way I’ve ever seen myself in a character. I normally see myself in the aliens. The robots. The mole people. But there he was. Ferb Fletcher.

Now, you didn’t ask for that. I did. I wanted to say it. So, now onto what you did ask! Theories! What this blog was made for!

He and Vanessa never dated. They were just friends. Fuck that romance bullshit.

Sometimes he gets in moods where he doesn’t shut up. Most the time, these only happen around Phineas because he feels most comfortable around him, but it occasionally will happen around other people

He randomly gets noises stuck in his head but he never lets them out because that only makes them louder to him so they stay stuck in Ferb land

Never fought anyone, but would (for others, of course)

If you ever get into an argument with him, well. The best you can hope for is a soft defeat.

Collects stickers but never sticks them anywhere

Also marbles. Seems like a marble guy.

Doesn’t like water until he’s in The Mood (except water slides :))

Knows the difference between except and accept

Chaotic until lawful. No in-betweens

Random glow up either junior (16-17) or senior (17-18) year. No explanation.

Stylish dude

Popular online

Hates cleaning his ears

Hates having long hair or facial hair

Really likes sunflower seeds

Very picky about Mac and cheese

Actually hates eating a lot of stuff but doesn’t tell Linda or Lawerence cause he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful but, combined with what Lawerence already knew and Linda’s Mom Sense, eventually everyone who cooks for him knows what he does and doesn’t like

Hates the smell of bacon. Not meat. Just bacon.

Really likes muffins

Hates bracelets

Likes charms tho :)

Customizes everything

Can’t stop itching mosquito bites (he puts band aids on them so they don’t bleed)

Never picked his nose. Like. Never (besides the nose picking machine, of course)

Likes turtleneck sweaters :)

Likes vests too :)

Has to get ripped jeans with rips below the thighs because he’ll pick at them otherwise

Actually, he really likes chains on pants as well, but only if they can be unattached

Hates that jumping raisin experiment. Absolute hatred.

It’s so hard to get him to hate someone but once he does :)))))))

Candace and him got along really well until she started hating on Perry and then he went :( and dipped until she stopped

Doesn’t like the number 5

Even though he’s a great editor, he loves shittily editing stuff just to fuck around

Brain goes 😐 sometimes and he can’t stop it

But then again sometimes it goes 🤩

Does NOT like snow

Rain is itchy

Likes Megamind but not as much as Phineas

He and Isabella are best friends

They shop together and talk shit >:)

Will creep people out randomly (sometimes on purpose sometimes not :))

Loves tattoos and he and Isabella get a matching one

Now, that is all for now because I feel sleep threatening to take over me. If you wanna see more Ferb theories well. Just. Look at my blog.

[stressisakiller]

Who Said Revenge is Easy?

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 4)

Summary:  You have a plan to defeat Hydra but when does anything ever go according to plan?  Your soul mark appears on your 18th birthday. What do you do when your father is a part of Hydra and your soul mark binds you to the Winter Soldier.

Prompt:  "I don’t know whether to kiss you or throw you off a building right now."

Warnings: Violence? Death? A couple of F-bombs

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Alrighty time to fight Hydra. Also I promise that there will be a lot of fluff and that they will get to spend some time together when they aren’t in danger. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future parts. 

Rewritten 2/17

Series Masterlist

<< Previous  Next >>

There are moments in everyone's life where they wonder how the hell they got into the situation they are in. You, it just so happens, have this thought at least once every two or so weeks. This was that moment, falling from who knows what story of the shield building while being shot at from above. As the wind rushed through your ears as you free fell, you can’t think of a similar scene from a movie that you watched at the Avenger’s tower, Megamind. Sadly you don’t have a gun that will dehydrate you until you hit the water. No, you just have your stupid super strength and the hope that your soldier won’t be too mad at you if you don’t make it out of this. Your careening thoughts are brought to an abrupt end as you are grabbed out of the air by a distinctly metal arm. You’re ripped out of your fall and into the arms of your soldier. Confused you look around and see that he had somehow commandeered a helicopter and pilot. You don’t have time to think about how mad you are at him for coming or how fucked you are once he catches his breath before he pulls back and yells at you. 

The first words out of your devastatingly handsome soulmate’s mouth after saving your life are not how happy he is he was there to save you or how much he already loves you. No the first words out of his mouth are the ever Bucky-like words

 "I don’t know whether to kiss you or throw you off a building right now." You decided not to comment on how counterproductive it would be for him to push you off a building after saving you from that exact fate. Instead, you looked up at him a little dazed after your near death experience and brazenly said 

"if you don’t kiss me right fucking now, I'll push you off a building." You could see the smile he was fighting to hide before he slammed his lips to yours and all you could think was how right kissing him felt. You mentally scolded yourself for not kissing him properly before you left. You made a mental promise that you would give him a proper kiss wherever you had to separate, you refused to live with regret if something were to happen before you saw each other again. You were breathless as he pulled away, wishing that the moment didn’t have to end. But the helicopter was touching down and there were other places that you were needed. As soon as the helicopter touched the ground you grabbed Bucky’s arm pulling him along with you as you ran back towards the building you just fell out of. The roaring of the helicarrier engines was deafening as you entered the building. You prayed that Steve was on one of them so that he could disable them. There was nothing you could do about them now, you thought running full tilt through the lobby and to the elevators. You needed to help Nat take care of Hydra. You waited impatiently in the elevator as it made its way to the top floor. Bucky putting his hand on your shoulder to remind you that you were not alone. The bell dinged informing you, that you had reached your destination. You looked over your shoulder at Bucky, his eyes met yours and he nodded, you could do this. You rushed into Fury’s office, Bucky hot on your tail, in time to see all of the helicarries firing on each other and exploding in the background. Your attention was immediately diverted from the windows to the sight of Pierce leading Natasha towards you and the door while holding a phone. You couldn’t really understand why a phone was enough to make her do what he wanted, but you didn’t have time to ponder that before you were noticed. Pierce looked up from the phone in his hand, eyes skipping over you and landing on Bucky. The smile that crossed his lips at the sight of his soldier walking through the door made your skin crawl. The sure way he held himself as if he knew that he had won, made you want to shoot him.

 “Ah, Soldat, I’m so glad you came back and brought the traitor with you as well.” he congratulated, you felt Bucky tense at his words, knowing that if Pierce realized he wasn’t under Hydra control things would go south quickly. He gave a stiff nod to Pierce grabbing your arm as you spat out insults at the man in front of you.

 “I’m sure,” he continued while ignoring you, “That her father will be very excited to have her back safe. He has had ample time to discover new ways to get her back under control. I distinctly remember him mentioning something about a new experiment that he wanted to try on her.” At the mention of your father, you felt the blood drain out of your face, and at the same time you saw red. Breaking out of Bucky’s grip you watched as Natasha pushed a button, electrocuting herself. Weird, you thought but you didn’t have time to wonder what exactly that accomplished before you were pulling your gun out from behind you. Eyes widening as you heard Pierce say the first word “Longing”. You felt rather than saw Bucky tense up behind you, weapon falling to the ground. Pierce’s voice was cut off mid word by the bullet you fired into his skull. He had barely got out the first syllable of the second word before he fell to the ground, dead. You barely registered Fury running over to check on Natasha, you were too focused on Bucky. You spun to look at him as soon as you pulled the trigger. His eyes were glassy, staring forward unfocused. His body was frozen, every muscle pulled tight. You placed your gun back in its holster, moving slowly, knowing that any fast moment would be seen as a threat. Creeping forward you gently reached for one of his trembling hands. His eyes snapped to you as soon as your fingers brushed his skin, a flicker of recognition flashing across them before they went back to glassy and unfocused. You took one last slow step, until you were inches from him, observing the way his muscles tensed even more at your proximity, eyes narrowing as he decided if you were friend of foe. You held his gaze, unflinching as you softly began to speak. 

“Hello Sunflower,” you whispered watching his eyes widen at the words, seeming to focus on your face for a moment. You started again, changing it up just a little bit. “Hello Bucky, my sunflower, the sun is up, your dreaming is done,” you spoke quietly tilting your head to the side, gauging his reaction to the words.

 A sigh of relief passed your lips as his eyes lost their glassiness, wondering from your face to your hands and back again. His body started to relax, until the realization of what could have happened caused fear to take over. He started to tremble, his mind started to race, he could have hurt you, hell he could have killed you and there was nothing he could have done to stop himself. He pulled his hand from yours, head falling in shame and defeat. You knew the thoughts that were running through his head and you couldn’t allow them to continue. Lifting one of your hands you gently placed it on his cheek, tilting your heads until your foreheads touched. Taking a deep breath you licked your lips before softly speaking,

 “Bucky, I need you to listen to me and hear the words I am about to say.” you paused allowing him to process your voice. “I want you to know that no matter what you could never hurt me. You have had years of fighting with me to hurt me and you never have. Not even when you were fully under their control, you have always, in some way, known that you have to protect me. I trust you with every fiber of my being and I can’t stand seeing you doubt yourself.” you could feel the turmoil rolling off of him, the set of his shoulders and lock of his jaw giving his emotions away. Reaching up with your other hand you gently tilted his head so that his eye met yours. Though all of his fear and regret he looked you in the eyes, his shoulders dropping when couldn’t find an ounce of fear or trepidation. He is your soldier, your sunflower, your soulmate and in your eyes he would never be anything else. You quickly smiled at him, giving him a peck on the lips before turning to look at Fury.

 “You didn’t see us. We were never here. Delete any video footage you have of us.” You stated leaving no room for argument. “We will be going somewhere to lie low, out of Hydra’s radar. After and only after you are able to assure us that Hydra is no longer a part of Shield will we consider coming back. Even then we will not be a part of Shield, we will be a part of the Avengers, we are done being used as weapons by your organization. I’m sure you can understand our hesitance in trusting Shield after this.” You paused to take a breath, gauging his reaction to your words, when he didn’t interrupt you continued. “I will leave a way to contact us with Steve. Only use it if it is absolutely imperative for us to be involved. Understood?” You saw the edge of Fury’s lip quirk up at your tone before he nodded speaking in an equally firm tone. 

“With all of Shield and Hydra’s files now out on the internet there will be a trial and we will need you there.” You closed your eyes for a second breathing in before replying,

“Understood, but you must understand that I refuse for either of us to go to jail for things that we had no choice in, and I will say such to a jury.”

 He sighed, shaking his head, 

“I don’t want that either but I want you to be prepared for the storm that is coming your way. We will do whatever we can to help but I can’t guarantee anything. Although it may be easier to convince them of your change in heart if you were seen as a part of the Avengers.” 

You glanced over at Bucky, you could tell that he wasn’t crazy about the idea but the tilt of his head at your gaze assured you that if it came to it he would do anything necessary. 

“We understand, now we need to leave before anyone can stop us,” you stated, “If you find any information pertaining to my father I would appreciate it if you could send it my way via our mutual acquaintance.” You didn’t wait for his reply before you and Bucky were on your way out of the building. It didn’t take long for you to escape the building, only having to stop a couple of times to hide from any prying eyes. As you made it outside you saw Sam running towards you,

 “Cap is hurt, he needs a hospital.” he called out as he neared you. You glanced at Bucky before rushing towards Sam and shouting for him to lead the way. When you got to Steve you could tell that he wasn’t doing great. You looked towards Sam, 

“Normally I would say that I could take care of it but I always had the doctors at Hydra double check once we got back to base. I need you to get him to the hospital, Bucky and I can’t be seen in public right now or we would go with you. We will find a new place to stay, and send word to Steve so that he will know how to find us when it's safe.” You clasped his shoulder, “Thank you for taking care of him, it means the world to both of us. You were a huge help and I’m not sure we would have succeeded without you.”

 He looked between the two of you, “The feeling is mutual, even if he is a pain in the ass, and tried to kill me on that bridge.” He said while motioning at Bucky. You shrugged 

“Well we can’t all be angels like Cap.” you looked down at Steve the worry that you were feeling obvious on your face. You felt Bucky place his hand in yours,

 “Take care of him Sam, He’s family.” you heard Bucky say from behind you. You squeezed his hand at the words before nodding and blinking the tears out of your eyes. You gave one last look at him before you felt Bucky tugging on your hand, you had stayed too long already, you needed to leave. You turned away and the two of you headed to your safe house to gather supplies. You would have to be quick, you needed to leave the city and get as far away as you could that night. You looked towards Bucky as you ran, you would be alright, hydra may not be completely dead quite yet but it would take them time to regroup, time that you could use to lay low. The storm was coming, and when it came you would be ready to face it head on.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Hypothetically,

Ao3,   MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Intrulogical, Platonic Logince

It is about! Damn! Time! That I wrote some Intrulogical! Also, y’all already know my stance on platonic logince,,,, guys they ARE best friends i’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending). mentions of stuff like autopsies and nuclear explosions in the context of like experiments- they do stuff in The Imagination, basically. Panic attack (?). Hurt/comfort. Pretty heated kissing; It’s more intense makin’ out than I usually write but it isn’t anything explicit at all, don’t worry! ADHD Remus and Autistic Logan. Cursing- like So Much Cursing. Mentions of space, deep sea, etc. Food mention.

Word count: 6,769

There was a conundrum. 

A., Logan needed to use the Imagination. B., He could not use it on his own, considering that he was Logic. C., Roman was nowhere to be found. The answer to what was frustrating Logan at that moment would be all of the above.

To be clear, he didn’t like going into the Imagination. It was simply the only suitable place to perform his ‘experiments’. His very necessary, very distracting experiments. But, as stated, Roman was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what. 

Logan sighed at the door, as though it was the inanimate structure’s fault. The cracks gleamed obnoxiously bright, golden light pouring out from behind the door in a somewhat eerie manner. It was a nonsensical, unrealistic, completely insignificant place, and he wanted in.

Logan was contemplating asking Janus for help (lies took imagination, right?) when, out of nowhere, an arm was thrown around his shoulders. Literally an arm, disembodied and oozing sick-smelling blood onto the carpet. Ah. Wonderful. 

“Hello, Remus,” he pulled the appendage from around him, holding it at arm’s length (no pun intended, dammit). 

“Hi!” Remus took his arm back and reattached it with a disturbing crunch, a grin stretching his face. He sidled up to Logan, imitating the side’s stance in front of the door. 

“Can I help you with something?” the logical trait tilted his shoulder away from where Remus had pressed against him. 

“Not unless you’re willing to get really messy- but I can help you!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re implying.”

The Duke rolled his eyes, promptly flinging the door to The Imagination open. An encompassing energy radiated into the common room, corrupting the usual neutrality of the space. It didn't last long before Remus grabbed Logan’s wrist and dragged him along through the entryway, movements as sporadic and fast-paced as everything else about the creative.

“It’s not very logical to just stand there staring at the door all day, in my opinion. I dunno what you need Imagination for, but whatever it is, I can help! My half is much more interesting, anyway.”

“Oh,” Logan blinked, narrowly ducking his head under a branch as he was pulled forward, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He politely didn’t mention that he doubted Remus’ capacity for helpfulness. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all. 

The door from the commons was quite a walk from the darker half of The Imagination, but at the pace its owner had them going they were there in minutes. The border was marked with tangles of densely thorned shrubbery, which parted for them, as if they sensed the approach. Logan just barely avoided snagging his shoe on one as they passed.

There was forest, twisted and shadowy, for only a minute. After that, they were in a city, with tall buildings and winding streets and dark alleys. Another switch, they came into what seemed like an amusement park. Nothing was consistent in theme, and none of the scenes held up for more than a minute or two. Remus shook his head and tisked. With a snap, a good portion of the ever-changing scenery was erased, leaving blank white space. The Duke turned to look at Logan with a satisfied smile. 

“Ta-da! What do you need?” 

Logan blanched for a moment, surprised at Remus’ willingness to completely delete Imaginings without a second thought. It usually took Roman ages to find a spot that he was okay with giving up on for Logan’s “projects”- which he always had thought was a little silly, seeing as he could bring it back when they were done. The change of pace was a pleasant one, though, so there was no need to dawdle for long. 

“I need a miniature fully-functioning model of our solar system. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, totally,” Remus waved his hand and the request appeared suspended in the air, spread out to be the size of a dining table. All was accounted for- sun, moons, eight planets plus pluto- orbiting and spinning around each other. Imagination, by nature, had no real limits, but the detail was still a sight to behold every time. Logic smiled, surveying the set-up, before gesturing to the edge of their blank section.

“Thank you for the help, you may go.”

“May I now?” Remus conjured a seat for himself, staring at Logan with his chin resting on his hands, “You’re not even going to tell me what this is for? That’s just rude.”

Logan glanced up from the tiny earth he was inspecting, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“You are welcome to stay, if you wish, but your brother usually leaves at this point. He says my experiments are-” he summons his notebook, “‘Bore-ifying’, which I assume is a portmanteau for ‘boring’ and ‘horrifying’.” 

“Roman’s a big baby!”

Logan shrugged, not disagreeing, and resumed his careful observation of the tiny model earth. Remus made no move to go, wheeling his chair even closer. The scientific side carried on before his new audience of one, hovering a hand over the little planet. Abruptly, it stopped spinning. Logan made a gesture with his hand that magnified the model significantly. 

The results were immediately catastrophic. Logan jotted a few observations down in his notebook, watching closely at the ways torrents of wind ripped up trees and buildings. In the back of his mind, he was faintly impressed by just how well-rendered ‘Dark’ Creativity’s earth was, down to the individual humans, brutalized by the storms. 

“Whoah, what the fuck?!” 

Logan looked up briefly to see Remus craning his head over the destruction of the stilled planet. His eyes were wide and bright with curiosity.

“Oh- I should probably explain. I come here, usually, to run some improbable scenarios as a sort of stress-reliever. Specifically, this one is what would happen if earth stopped spinning on its axis. As you can see, due to the earth no longer rotating at its usual speed, the wind would continue on at-” he cut himself off abruptly, sensing the beginnings of a ramble, “I’m sorry, I’ve been told that I have a tendency to ‘go off’ when a subject particularly interests me.”

Remus rolled his chair even closer, looking much like an excited animal (more so than usual, anyway).

“Well then, go off! Don’t leave me hanging! Is that really what would happen, just if it stopped?” He gestured enthusiastically to the way that the oceans had begun to crash against and consume shorelines. He looked interested- genuinely interested. 

Logan bit back a smile. He didn’t have to be told twice. 

 It was one of those particularly restless nights. For no foreseeable goddamn reason, Logic’s mind had become alight with enough half-formed thoughts and barely sensible ideas to fill a very, very weird book. The Imagination did wonders when he got like this, but it usually wasn’t two in the morning when he needed to use it. That wasn’t to say the circumstance was unheard of, but all times prior he could push the urge to investigate away with the reasoning that he could just ask Roman in the morning, and that the Creative side needed his ‘beauty sleep’, as he called it. There wasn’t anything he could do about that, was there?

Tonight was different. Logan could hear the occasional snap or tear or cackle from the room across from his. Remus’ room. 

It had been less than a week since The Duke let him use the darker half of the Mindpalace, and that was pretty much the only meaningful interaction they’d had in as many days. They weren’t close, Logan wasn’t even sure if they were friends (not that he was a good judge of that, given the first time Roman referred to them as ‘besties’ he had all but cried), but Remus was at the very least an option. He was also unlikely to mind, given that he was already awake and had exhibited excitement previously. 

Logan made up his mind after yet again failing to fall asleep. Quietly, he opened his door and took the few short steps across the hall, raising his fist. Remus’ door was open before his second knock. 

“Oh, hey! What are you doing, coming knocking at this hour?” he didn’t even try to whisper, accompanying his statement with an over-exaggerated wink. Logan didn’t waste his time trying to shush the side. 

“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-”

“You know I don’t mind your ‘interruptions’, Twunk-y Megamind!”

“-But I was wondering if you would… Help me, again. I seem to be having a hard time getting to sleep, and I think that getting out some of my ideas could help.”

Remus’ face lit up dramatically. 

“Oh hell yes! Are we gonna blow up more planets?”

“Something like that,” he kept his voice monotone, disguising the relief and hint of pride at such a positive reaction. 

“Well, come on!”

Logan let himself be dragged into Remus’ room, barely having time to make note of the surprisingly organized layout before he was pulled through a sleek black door. 

“But you have to tell me about it,” he ordered, twisting them through narrow paths in his half of The Imagination. Logan suppressed a smile. 

“If you want to hear it, then I’m happy to.” 

Without warning, they stopped the breakneck pace that Remus moved at. The trait seemed appeased with their surroundings, though as far as Logan could tell it was just another piece of ever-shifting ominous landscape. 

Remus snapped his fingers. The scene remained intact. 

“Sorry,” he glanced around nervously, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Can’t get ‘em out. I’ll get it, I just-”

“It’s no trouble.” 

Logan rolled up his sleeves. He didn’t like using his ‘abilities’ much, as every side had some set of special skills, and all of them were much too ostentatious. But they were helpful, at times. He waved a hand, gesturing carefully so that he didn’t dismantle any more of The Imagination than was absolutely necessary. With a small stutter, the landscape shifted to a blank slate.

When he looked back up, Remus’ expression was not unlike that of a Cheshire cat.

“What was that?”

“I am Logic, therefore it follows that I am the antithesis to any Imagination creations. It’s very easy to erase them with just a bit of rationality.” 

“No clue what a lot of those words meant, but it’s still cool that you can destroy shit.”

Laughing was unbecoming, to say the least, and so the logical trait tended to avoid it at all costs. The snort that escaped him was entirely involuntary. 

If Remus noticed the noise, he said nothing about it. He was too busy bouncing from foot to foot, expectantly waiting for instructions. Logan cleared his throat of the outburst and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple…”

 At his request, Remus would construct immaculately detailed creatures, settings, and models, watching gleefully at the ordeals Logan put each one through. They tested various and progressively elaborate ways to sink populated cruise liners, they simulated the effects of falling from the Empire State Building, dissected approximations of obscure marine animals (a shared special interest of theirs, apparently), and any of the other unrealistic questions that occurred to the typically rational Logic. 

The only way to get such questions from his mind, he’d found out a long time ago, was deconstructing them one step at a time, to see them in their full ridiculousness. 

It was also, he was coming to realize, incredibly fun. 

Before the two knew it, the already late hour had turned unreasonable. Logan blinked owlishly at his watch, distracted from the tiny supernova that he’d created.

“Oh, I must have lost track of time,” four in the morning. Four in the morning! 

“Aw, does that mean we’re done?” Remus whined, yet he still began unmaking his small star system. 

Logan was suddenly very aware of the heaviness of his eyelids and a rubbery feeling in his limbs. God, was he tired. 

“I’m afraid so. I really should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.”

“Fine,” Remus dragged the word out with a groan, “But let me know next time you wanna fuck with space, or deep sea stuff, or anything like that.”

Next time. 

As much as Logan adored Roman, there was something very nice about having the more grim brother help him out with these experiments. For one, his creations were often much more accurate to the real world- likely because gore and destruction were that much more impactful when they were realistic. For two, he actually seemed to enjoy the work. 

Logan’s deliberation was brief. 

“I will.”

 As it happened, the night spent delving into dozens of ideas had purged Logan’s need to use The Imagination, for the time being. Clearly, Remus was not patient enough to wait for him.

He popped up, unannounced, in Logic’s room.

“Lo!!!”

The trait in question fell out of his office chair in a very undignified way. Not that there’s a particularly dignified way to fall out of a chair, but if there was, this definitely wouldn’t have been it. He ‘ate shit’, as the saying goes.

Out of pure embarrassment, Logan made no move to get off the floor.

“Hello, Remus,” he greeted, “How may I help you?”

The Duke laughed raucously, sprawling into the now-unoccupied chair and leaning over him. 

“You’re a riot, Dork,” then, added with glittering eyes, “Did you break anything?”

“No. Given that I am metaphysical, I’m not sure that I have bones.”

“I have bones!”

“Are they your bones?”

“They are bones and they are in my possession, yes.” 

Logan let the subject drop and repeated his first question. 

“Right, I forgot! I have an idea for an experiment!”

Logan thought that, despite his mild humiliation, it would probably benefit the conversation if he wasn’t lying on the ground, so he stopped doing that. Brushing mostly imaginary dust from his clothes, he shot Remus a bemused look.

“That’s nice. But I was asking you why you were here.”

The Duke’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.  

“I thought you’d wanna know, because of what you said last time. Isn’t this, like, a thing we do now? You know how shit works, and I know how to make that shit, and then you can tell me about it!” 

Oh. 

“Remember when you were talking about radiation the other day? You can’t just say stuff like that and then not expect me to want to try it out, so really this is on you. It’d be dumb not to let you in on it.”

Oh. 

He’d been listening to that rant? Moreover, he’d remembered it, and now had his own ideas and follow-up questions about it? 

Logan felt light-headed. 

“You’re probably too busy with work, huh? I guess my explosions don't have to be accurate, if you’re set on being boring,” Remus’ tone was nonchalant, but he was obviously lingering for attention. Logan then remembered that words are a thing, and people use them to communicate.

“No! I mean, yes- I mean, I’m not busy. I can join you, I- I’d like to, even,” the intelligent side heard a small voice in his head, his own miniature Virgil, screaming- what the fuck was that, get it together, Jesus, because he, despite what his fellow sides insisted, was absolutely nonfunctional when trying to form a friendship. 

Remus didn’t seem to notice or care much past his own cheer.

“Cool!” he, yet again, wasted no time in seizing Logan’s arm and yanking him away, “I wanted to see what would happen to animals and plants and stuff bunches of years after lots of radiation! Do you think they’d mutate? Get all twisted and fucked up so that they aren’t even recognizable as, say, a dog?”

Logan considered the question as he was led through the Mindpalace.

“Well, nothing would be able to live there at all. Additionally, anything within a little under a mile of the nuclear fallout- depending on a few variables- would be completely incinerated upon impact.”

“Like, flesh-melting incinerated?” 

“More like vaporized. The fireball would burn 10,000 times the heat of the sun.”

Remus went starry eyed, bringing them to a halt a mere five feet from the door. 

“I wanna see that,” he waved his hands around at their surroundings, “Can you do the white-out thing?” 

Logan, much less hesitant than last time, obliged. A small smile escaped him at the wondrous look on The Duke’s face. It was another form of expression he didn’t particularly care for, but containing his emoting was more trouble than it was worth by now. He couldn’t find it in him to care much either, for once. 

“Where do we start?” Remus prompted.

“You tell me. I will help you make it as accurate as possible, and provide any insight that you want, but it is your idea,” and he wanted to hear more about those ideas. Odd and violent, mesmerizing and clever. There was so much that he wanted to hear about, to talk about, to puzzle out together. 

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone to share such interests with. Maybe, despite how deeply he cared for his ‘family’, as Patton called them- maybe it was never.

Remus chattered as he worked, disrupting the train of thought. Logan almost tuned it out- after all, everyone had grown perfectly used to The Duke’s rambling- but he caught himself. That was hardly how he should treat the side that was so strangely considerate to him, wasn’t it? 

Logan listened from then on. He began to add on to the conversation, corrections and elaborations and actual questions, because he actually didn’t know some of it. He didn’t regret the choice. 

By the end, Remus and Logan were sitting together in the smoldering ruins of their make-believe test town, exchanging notes for different variables they could use in the next trial. They only stopped when Logan was abruptly summoned away by Thomas. He excused himself, a bit apologetic, promising to visit again soon.

As he helped Thomas (with what really should have been a simple task, honestly), Logic wondered briefly about the origins of the hollow feeling that grew in his chest. Something distracted, longing, and unfamiliar. 

And then the oven caught fire, and the only thing he felt was annoyance with the man that he was somehow a component of. 

 So, that was that- Logan and Remus were friends, now spent regular time together, and shared interests. By all accounts, it was a simple and obviously positive development. 

But then there was Roman. 

“What’s wrong with my work? You’d really prefer whatever edgy 12-year-old DeviantArt account nonsense that he thinks up?”

Logan set his book down with a sigh and looked over to his doorway, where Roman stood with his hands on his hips.

“Come in, Roman, and thank you for knocking,” he snarked. The Creative side made a vaguely sassy noise, trotting right in and flopping backwards onto the bed. Without closing the door, the monster.

“I thought that building your Weird Science contraptions was our thing.”

Logan made a show of standing up and manually shutting his door before responding. 

“You don’t like my ‘contraptions’, as you call them.”

“Yeah, but I still made them for you! Because we’re friends, but I suppose you’ve forgotten all about that!” 

He really should have expected the melodrama. And yet, Logan had lived in a delusional world where he didn’t care about the most Extra being on earth.

With an eye roll, Logic dropped down beside Roman on the bed- though he wasn’t half as flamboyant about it. 

“I can have more than one friend.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to be your favorite! We’re supposed to hang out together! Do the friendship bracelets I made mean nothing to you?”

He flung his arm across Logan’s chest, a ‘friendship bracelet’ clearly visible on his wrist (a loose usage of the term, given that it was a solid gold band with inlaid sapphires, because of course it was).

Logan held up his arm as well, showing that his (silver with inlaid rubies) was still very much in use, despite his distaste for jewelry.

“We hang out plenty. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings by spending time with your brother. My reason for doing so is that he seems to take active enjoyment in building and learning about these things with me. He also makes very good conversation, in regards to the more, ah, eccentric experiments.”

Roman tossed his head to the side to watch Logan with narrowed eyes. After a pause, he linked their arms at the elbow. 

“Yeah, you would think that. You’re secretly just as much of a weirdo as him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh please, I can barely keep up with a word that either of you say,” Roman headbutted Logan’s shoulder in what was likely another of his odd displays of affection. He let his head rest there for a minute, a rare instance of peace before he inevitably resumed talking. 

“Anyways-”

“Anyway,” Logan corrected.

“Anyways, if you nerds wanna talk about your weird, creepy experiments, then I guess that’s fine. But he isn’t allowed to co-opt anything else that we do together that we both actually like- no making fun of movies together, no Crofters jams, and no poetry-slash-rap battles.”

“Of course not, Roman. You will always be my favorite person to disagree with.”

“Love you, too,” Creativity bumped him again, then sat up to stretch. Logan snorted a laugh and considered shoving Roman off the bed, watching as he raised his arms up and straightened his back. Before the trait had the chance, unfortunately, his friend was already standing. 

“Leaving already? Weren’t you just going on about spending time together?”

“Nah, that was all I wanted to yell at you about for now. I’ve gotta go help Pat with dinner.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

Halfway out the door, Roman threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, and whatever you two end up doing, do not give me the details. Please.”

Okay, finally, that really was that. Friendship established, blessings given, the end. A simple symbiosis.

Logan was thinking about the practical uses of medieval torture devices? Remus. He wanted to see exactly how long it would take your average healthy adult to succumb to drowning? Remus. Logan wanted to just rant, about anything and everything, his brain moving a mile a minute? Remus. They spent an inordinate amount of time together. 

Occasionally, when he didn’t even have the energy to converse, he would sit down with a book in the commons when he knew Remus was there and let the trait’s never ending word-vomit wash over him. It was an odd sort of intimacy, but that fit within the theme of their dynamic. Like he said, simple symbiosis. 

And that was when the not-very-platonic fondness grew. And Logan, to his own surprise, allowed it to. 

After deep consideration he had seen no reason not to; Remus wouldn’t judge him, not ever. It put a name to the hollow longing that occurred whenever he, eventually, had to get back to work and part from their talks. 

He hadn’t sorted out what to do about the feeling yet, but he felt no urgency. 

Logan’s book lay forgotten in his lap, that morning being one of the quiet ones as he reflected on his unfamiliar emotions. It was almost nice, letting such affection curl up in his chest and settle there.

His contemplation was broken by a sharp jab to his shoulder.

“Are you listening to me?”

He tilted his head at Remus.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

“What were you thinking about?” his eyes lit up, very obviously hoping for it to be something disgusting. Logan glanced away, given that he didn’t even like eye-contact in the best of circumstances. 

“Nothing important. You have my attention now.”

Remus rolled his eyes with a huff, apparently genuinely irritated. 

“Well now I forgot what I was saying.”

“Let’s backtrack: what were you talking about before?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, we can talk about something else.”

The irritation had grown to something unrecognizable to Logan- frustrating, given how closely he tried to study body language. He felt a stab of guilt as Remus stood up from his spot.

“It probably didn’t matter. I’m gonna go annoy Janus.”

“Oh,” Logan’s voice was small, “Alright, then.”

He was already gone.

That was… concerning. Not to mention bewildering; Remus didn’t just pass up opportunities to talk! He didn’t just leave, not even when he wasn’t wanted! Logan really hadn’t thought his zoning out would earn such a reaction. 

But he was far from perceptive about emotional problems. There was no way to know if it was anything to throw a fit over. For all he knew, it was just an off-day. He couldn’t always expect his friend to be rambunctious and energetic, even if that was a big part of his personality. 

The issue would likely resolve itself.

 The issue did not do that. It did the polar opposite, speeding from mildly concerning to downright frightening at a whiplash-inducing pace.

Remus barely asked questions and almost never offered insight, as he usually did when they spent time together. In fact, his contributions had become rare and unenthusiastic enough that he could have passed as neurotypical, however disturbing the thought was. And that was when they did end up spending time together, which was becoming less and less often, much to the dismay of one significantly smitten smart side.

Something was very clearly wrong with Remus. Not the demented, destructive, mildly endearing and unhinged sort of wrong. It was the wrong sort of wrong.

Logan was hesitant to confront him outright. After a couple weeks of careful consideration, a more subtle solution occurred to him, as he idly flipped through a very graphic murder-mystery late into the night. Something bloody, and awful, and very much Remus’ taste. He set the novel down, knowing full well that his friend would be wide awake as he made his way across the hall.

“Remus?” he knocked at the side’s door, wearing a smile much wider than he usually liked. He was more than willing to express exuberance, if there was even the slightest chance that it would be infectious.

The door decidedly did not fly open. Rather, after a good deal of wrapping at it, Remus slowly pulled it back and poked his head out.

“Oh. Hey.”

Logan didn't dwell on the concern that reaction brought. He had something that would cheer Creativity up, of that he was sure.

“I have a test tonight- it’s going to be very messy,” he began, searching the impulsive trait’s eyes for any signs of interest. There was the slightest glint, but not much more. 

“So, you want me to make stuff for you?” His speech was monotonous. 

“Yes, that was the idea. It’s going to be gory.”

Hardly a reaction. All Remus did was open the door the rest of the way to allow Logan inside. Clearly, he had underestimated just how poorly his friend felt.

“Alright, I’ll set it up for you. Just don’t take too long, I was actually hoping to use my part of the Mindscape today.”

Logan nodded, very taken aback. He couldn’t ignore the slight hurt at the cold, dismissive tone (the irony of that wasn’t lost on him).

They stepped foot into The Imagination and immediately Remus stopped, destroying whatever had been in front of them- which was usually fine, it was just how he operated, but normally out of enthusiasm, not apathy. Maybe this was more than could be fixed with some blood and guts.

“What do you need?”

Logan conjured a tiny notebook, giving a tentative smile. Still, he was giving this plan a shot.

“Operating table,” one appeared before him, sleek metal with rolly legs, “A standard set of surgical tools,” he looked up to gauge Remus’ interest, but his expression still hadn’t changed as he continued to create, “A human corpse, and then we can get started.”

With a wave, a perfectly generic body fell onto the table, but Logan’s attention remained on The Duke.

“Great, have fun, let me know when you’re finished.”

Logan faltered, watching him turn to leave.

“You- you aren’t going to stay and do this with me?”

“You want me to?” Remus crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Logan with a gaze that could (figuratively) wilt flowers.

“I- Yes? If you aren’t at all interested right now, then I can save this experiment for another day?” Yeah, this wasn’t working, but Logan had no backup.

“No, no, don’t wait for me, you’ve already got everything you need, right?”

“I mean- technically, yes, but it- it wouldn’t be the same.”

Remus cackled, sounding quite like the cartoonish villain that he often acted as. It hurt to listen to.

“So that’s what this is about! Let me just fix you up, then!” 

He snapped, and a blank humanoid form appeared at his side. It tilted its faceless head curiously at Logan, who recoiled.

“Not good enough? Is a hunk of nothing too unrealistic for you?” he snapped again, and the being suddenly transformed to match its creator exactly. 

Nearly exactly: it wore an enthusiastic grin, eyes wide and sparkling, rather than the steadily building fire that raged in real-Remus’ eyes. It spoke in a disgustingly cheery tone.

“Wow, tell me more! Show me that again? What happens when you do that? You’re just so interesting, Lo!” 

Remus watched the creation, a look of one part pride and a million parts resentment.

“Is that what you want? It’s just like me, but without any of the hassle of being another person that you have to deal with! And this one, you really can get rid of whenever you want, isn’t that great?”

Logan looked between the two, a fearful understanding creeping up his spine. There was something he was missing here, wasn’t there?

“No,” he muttered, half to the fake-Duke and half to the real one. 

“No?” Remus spat, circling his mirror, “No, of course, you’re so right. This isn’t nearly enough.”

He made an elaborate gesture, and about a dozen more Creativities appeared, surrounding them. Logan stumbled back from them, nearly tripping on the operating table that they’d previously made. When he looked up, the real Remus was approaching him with an expression that fought its way between guilt and indignation. It was all at once heart-wrenching and frightening. 

Logan tried to right himself, tried to look unaffected and certain of himself, as he raised his voice. He would not let this go a step farther, despite his confusion.

“Stop,” and with that, a wave rocked across The Imagination, and all was erased. In the aftermath he stood before a teary-eyed Remus (just the one, though), uncharacteristically looking like a stiff wind would knock him right over.

“What’s wrong? I gave you what you wanted!”

Logan reeled.

“Why would you think I wanted any of that?” 

“You wanted an experiment, I gave you one! You wanted a willing audience, I gave you twelve! But I guess I just get everything wrong, right?”

“You know that isn’t true,” Logan felt choked, his words clumsy. It was foreign and horrible and disgusting, but he’d trudge through it all if it meant fixing whatever he’d done wrong. It couldn’t have just been him losing focus once? Could it? 

“Oh, of course, I do just enough to be useful. So I’ve got that right; I’m a good utensil. Is it so much to ask that people would care about me, not just what I can do?” he posed a rhetorical oozing with vitriol, but it quickly evaporated into something much more desperate, “What if it’s my fault? It was my idea, I wanted to help. I don’t know why I thought you’d care past all that, did I give you a reason to? I can’t remember. It might make more sense that way, if I were the problem, wouldn’t it?”

Logan was running out of time to fix this, watching Remus curl in on himself, barely keeping from falling to the floor. He had no clue how The Duke had reached the conclusion that he didn’t care about him! They spent nearly all their free time together: sitting next to each other just to have the company, throwing each other tricky and often troubling questions to answer, constantly toiling away at things in The Imagination. Sometimes, they didn’t even need to talk, they just worked together in rapt silence; Remus did the creating and Logan arranged his work just so, and- Wait. Wait. Wait.

Logan didn’t need to talk, or touch, for that matter. Perhaps it was a mistake to presume the same for such a needy, affectionate, boisterous side? 

No, not perhaps, it was a huge mistake. A major fuck-up, if you will. 

He’d thought, if the blunt side had needed such comforts, surely he would initiate it? He hardly shied away from anything, except, well. 

Except. Feelings. 

God, he was the dumbest smart person in the world.

“Oh, Remus…”

The Duke’s head jerked up, continuing his back-and-forth of desperation and rage. 

“I don't need your pity!”

Logan sighed, twisting the end of his tie in frustration. 

“That isn't what I'm offering,” he took a breath before continuing, linking the words together so it would come out right. “I'm so sorry, I didn't take into account how you would interpret our interactions. I thought it was obvious that I cared for you, that I didn't need to say it outright. Clearly… I was wrong. So, if you need more than what I previously expressed- which I'm now realizing was very little in the eyes of someone who is not me- then I am happy to provide that for you.” 

Remus was shaken, a good deal of his ire slipping away. Whether that was good or bad remained unclear.

Before it could be overthought, Logan crossed the remaining few feet between them and brought his arms around The Duke in his loose approximation of a hug. The trait froze, but he didn't pull away. 

Physical affection, check. 

“I value your companionship more than I'm entirely sure how to verbalize. You understand me in a way that most others don’t seem to. While your ability to make detailed creations is very helpful, it is hardly the only thing I appreciate about you. 

“For one, you make me laugh. A lot. More than I'm used to. Additionally, you can easily match the pace with which I speak, or change topics! And, you are so much smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Logan finished the spiel with a smile, genuinely proud at his ability to articulate such… sentimental things, with relative ease. Words of affirmation, check.

He snapped back to attention when Remus brought shaking hands up to Logan's chest. For a moment, he worried that Remus would shove him away. The fears dissipated when all he did was bunch the front of Logan's shirt in his hands and hold on tight. 

“Do you mean that,” his volume was low, “Or do you just want me to calm down?”

Logan tightened his grip around him and, following a motion that he'd seen Patton employ many times to great success, he rubbed up and down his back.

“I understand that it might be hard for you to trust me, but I promise I'm not lying to you. I would have to be pretty awful to do something like that, wouldn't I?”

Hesitantly, Remus nodded against his collar. A good sign, but there was one thing left he had to say. 

“And- If you need further convincing- then you should know. I love you.”

Remus stilled. He then unfisted his hands from Logan's shirt. It was an anticipatory second before he threw his arms around the logical trait and finally returned the hug. His hold was crushing, and it was the most comforting thing that Logan had ever felt. 

They were okay.

“I'm sorry I-” 

Logan didn’t let him finish the apology. 

“Don't be. You didn't know how I felt, because I hadn't communicated it in a way you understood. That is hardly your fault.”

Remus nodded again, remaining much quieter than he’d probably ever been in his entire existence.

They held each other for longer than either would like to admit, speaking softly. 

“Thanks,” was muttered against Logan’s shoulder. 

“Of course. Just so you know, I'm more than willing to do this again whenever you need reassurance.”

“It might be a lot,” his tone was turning more mischievous, more him, “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan hardly minded having an opportunity to gush about Remus to Remus. Not to mention, the physical affection was even nicer than he'd imagined it being. And oh, had he imagined it. 

Remus' face returned to his usual ever-present zeal, and he ended their hug to bounce in place. 

“Great! I'm good now! We can get on with that autopsy you wanted to show me- there better be buckets of blood!”

Logan shifted his weight. 

“Maybe we should save that for another day.”

“Oh,” Remus' face fell the smallest bit, “Okay.”

Logan was quick to amend:

“By that I mean, I have something better in mind.”

 Remus curled himself up in Logan’s lap, his eyes barely focused on the TV as the side carded his hands through his tangled mop of hair. Final Destination 3 played on the television (he had assured Logan that they didn't need to see the first two, and he was mostly right), serving as an excuse for the two to drink in each other's company. 

It was right in the middle of a particularly graphic rollercoaster scene that Remus took Logan's hands from his hair to hold them, twisting around to face him.

“Is something wrong, Remus?”

“You told me you loved me,” he stated blankly. 

“Yes, I did.”

“I didn't say it back!”

“No, you didn't,” it hadn't been the most important matter at the time, really. “You don't have to say it. It's perfectly okay if you don't feel the s- Mmph!”

Remus smashed their lips together, holding the sides of Logan's face (disrupting his glasses in the process) and pulling him forward harshly. 

Logan, for less than a second, was floored. And then Remus tilted his head to deepen the already heated kiss, and the situation properly clicked. Logan reciprocated, slightly uncertain in his movements, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. 

Remus smiled against him. He nipped at Logan's lower lip with sharpened teeth, eliciting a very embarrassing yelp. Logic let his lips part in response as his thoughts grew fuzzier by the second. 

The (somewhat clumsy) open-mouthed kiss lasted right until they absolutely had to break, separating for air. Neither moved very far, letting their foreheads rest against each other and all but panting for breath.

“I love you so fuckin' much, nerd,” when Remus spoke, their lips brushed ever so slightly, “Just so you know.”

“I picked up on that, yes.” 

“A little clarity never hurts, right?”

Logan chuckled at the reference to his own sentiments, but the sound was abruptly cut off when Remus kissed him properly again. 

When they broke apart, he explained how 'stupid-cute' that laugh was. And Logan, only half-joking (since when did he joke at all?), said that he’d have to do it more often.

Banter came easily to them, despite the raw undercurrent that still laced their conversation. Although, neither of them had ever found it difficult to talk; talk about the first thing that came to mind and the last thing that would come to anyone’s mind, talk about exceedingly simple nonsense and topics so intricate that they wound up sounding like nonsense, just talk.

So things would stay mostly the same. They would ramble to each other when no one else could stand to hear such disturbing things. They would sit, working side by side, running through plans and ideas and results at rapid-paced speech. They’d speak, and they would listen, when even their closest friends couldn’t manage such patience.

Only now, sometimes the rushed words might turn soft. Now, all that ranting might be more substantial than anyone would at first see. Now, they’d still listen, but leaned close together, gazes impossibly fond.

But then, on occasion, they would find that there were things far more fun than talking to do together.

@shrimp-crockpot

[harryandmolly]

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *7* - final

A/N: thanks for hanging out, guys. always a pleasure 💜

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, butter, adulting

wc: 5.6k

----------

Lilly takes shallow breaths, all her tight core will allow as she carefully raises her legs back up over her head. The pressure at the crown is almost unbearable -- she’s probably still not totally strong enough to support all her weight in her core and arms like this in a tripod headstand, but she’s never been able to successfully raise her legs off the floor. So she can ignore the pesky brain pulsing. For a few seconds.

Lilly huffs and lowers her legs slowly, spread as wide as she can get them, until her feet hit the floor, taking some of the weight off her head. She unfurls to sit, blinks quickly and grins, catching a glimpse of her bright eyes and flushed cheeks in the reflection of the open glass door. Lilly straightens her back and admires herself, strong and stable, the result of a lot of hard fucking work.

She completes her practice as directed by her perky online instructor and lies in supported fish pose a little longer than usual. She rolls her hips, noticing the way it affects each notch of vertebrae in her back.

Her phone buzzes beside her mat. Her nose twitches as she fights a smile. She glances at it, though she doesn’t need to to know who it is.

Shawn: you coming?

Lilly closes her eyes and types back by muscle memory.

Lilly: shhhhh I’m zen

She rests her phone on her stomach and enjoys the way the night breeze sifts through the room.

The phone makes an angrier but muffled sound on her skin. She checks it, expecting a whining plea or a series of emojis. Instead her jaw drops and she chokes on a breath and pushes herself to sit.

Lilly knows this house as well as her own now. She traces her fingers lovingly along the hallway walls as she winds her way down the stairs and follows the music. It’s Harry Styles, which explains a lot.

The sliding doors to the pool are unlatched but shut to keep out the dreaded mosquitos. It’s past dusk now, the sky will go from cobalt to midnight soon. The pool lights make the water glow a smooth, clean turquoise. It’s interrupted by the boy in the shallow end with his arms hanging on the side, wearing a smirk that barely contains a goofy grin.

Lilly toes carefully over the gravel, hissing as it bites at her feet. The song changes to “Watermelon Sugar,” which incidentally is very appropriate, given the contents of his last text. He notices it too and that smirk gets even dopier.

Lilly shakes her head and glides to the edge of the pool, curling her opalescent painted toes over the edge. She crosses her arms and waves her phone.

“Is this a tease or an actual invitation?”

Shawn lifts a shoulder coyly. He draws a hand into the water and wiggles his fingers through it, looking casual. “Both, I guess. I got you out here, didn’t I?”

Lilly laughs and nods, glancing around. He already grabbed towels for them both when he came out here an hour ago to do laps, part of his regular routine now.

She hears movement in the water and looks down to see him wading toward her. He blinks innocently through wet, dark lashes and places a gentle kiss to each of her big toes, then rests his cheek on her feet.

“Your sushi’s inside on the counter,” he murmurs.

Lilly nods. “I’ll get it later.”

While his eyes are down, Lilly lifts her ribbed crop tank over her head and tosses it on a nearby chair. He lifts his head in time to watch her bare nipples harden in the breeze. His eyes bulge.

“Uh oh, I’m in trouble now,” he teases, kicking off the wall to float on his back as he watches her undress. She wriggles out of her leggings and panties while keeping her eyes on the hills and valleys of his torso.

As she rounds the corner of the pool to take the stairs, Shawn straightens up, sniffing and pushing his hands back through his hair. He opens his arms to her. She walks right in, tucking her arms and legs around him. His content sigh is so heavy the water ripples around them.

His hands wander her back and tangle in the ends of her hair, which looks redder and silkier in the water. Their heads rest side by side like they each need the other to hold them up. Lilly turns her face into his ear, giving his cartilage a lick and greedily sniffling the chlorine in his hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent me.”

She feels him chuckle and holds him even tighter. He scoops his hands down around her ass and starts to wade deeper into the water.

“You inspire me,” Shawn whispers, swaying with her toward the edge, where he can pin her up against the tile wall. She hisses upon contact with the cool stone and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss.

It’s languid, exploring. She’s pretty sure he knows better than to try to fuck her in the pool. That’s only hot in movies. She thinks maybe he just missed her.

“How’d it go today?” she hums.

“Good. Mostly. There are still a few pieces that need to come together for the first two tracks and I’m still not quite getting what I want for track eight, but it was productive.”

Despite their circumstances, Lilly and Shawn have been pseudo-functional adults lately. Once the tent (as they’ve taken to calling the makeshift recording booth) went up, Shawn buckled down to focus on recording and working with producers and the other musicians tracking instruments. Lilly has finally tossed herself full time into writing, breaking for yoga and snacks and to visit him, if she’s super quiet, which she’s not, so she always gets politely kicked out after a take or two.

“How ‘bout you?”

Lilly pecks at the corner of his mouth and nods. “Also good. I almost totally rewrote that scene from yesterday but honestly I feel a lot better about it. It has some life in it now.”

“Good,” Shawn purrs, aiming his lips down at her shoulder. She smiles and tilts her nose into his hair again. Greedy, greedy.

“And… I finally did it.”

Shawn lifts his head and watches her like her face will give him a clue. In a matter of seconds, he lights up.

“Shut the fuck up. The whole way?”

Lilly’s cheeks scrunch with the effort of her smile. “The whole way. Probably killed a bunch of brain cells, but I did it.”

“Lill, that’s nuts! That’s so awesome!” he cries, squeezing her tighter, “Shit, I wanted to film it! I was gonna put it on Insta and tag you as #fitspo!”

Lilly snorts and drops her forehead to rest against his. “What a fun way to announce us to the world.”

“That I’m having really hot yoga sex with my really hot, stretchy girlfriend? I love that for me.”

Lilly cackles, dropping her head back against the stone. Shawn plods kisses up her throat.

“Will you show me later?” he asks, speaking into her wet skin.

“Not tonight, you’re going to be very busy, remember?”

Shawn goes quiet and still for a moment, then jolts with a laugh. “Uh huh, right. So busy. All night long kinda busy.”

Lilly can’t hide her squirm. Shawn gathers her in off the wall so she’s plastered against him, their noses brushing.

“That’s the best kind of busy.”

+

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me…”

Lilly’s quite sure he can’t hear her, even though he’s lying on top of her. He refused to get out of bed to get the phone charging cord, so he rolled over onto Lilly, his head on her chest under the sheets, as his hand flails toward the ground.

Lilly’s face scrunches up as he grunts and wriggles.

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t--”

“Huh?”

Shawn lifts his head straight into Lilly’s chin, even as she tries at the last second to tilt it away. His enormous head smacks into the base of her jaw, making her clench down on her tongue. She wails.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry!”

The cord is forgotten. Shawn pushes himself up over her and cups her jaw, nudging his lips over the bridge of her nose. He pulls back after a few seconds to inspect her.

Lilly swats at him. “Fuck. God, you’re like Megamind only… less blue. I think my tongue is bleeding.”

She sticks her tongue out and lifts her eyebrows. “Ih ih ee-ing?”

Shawn looks closer. “Nope.” He cradles her face in both hands and kisses her soundly, sliding his tongue against hers, pressing a warm sigh out of her sleepy morning body.

“There, all better,” he determines, folding himself down beside her.

“That’s as close to vampirism as I ever hope to get with you,” Lilly grumbles, reaching for her phone. She allows his apology kisses as she scrolls through Twitter and brushes her toes against his calf.

Her shoulders drop. She exhales and puts the phone down. The sheet comes up over her head. Shawn follows curiously.

“What?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Lover Fest is cancelled.”

Shawn makes a murmur of acknowledgement and tucks his arm around her, pulling the covers higher over both of them. The morning light is diffused through the clean white sheet.

“You kinda knew it would be, though,” he points out, sounding dejected for her.

Lilly’s face crumples into a pout. “I mean, yeah, but I just think it sucks that the universe has chosen to keep me from Taylor. My spiritual big sister. My celestial homegirl. Fate keeps us apart and its cruelty is weighing on me.”

Lilly feels safe enough to get melodramatic in front of Shawn for several reasons, not the least of which is that he, too, can pitch an impressive fit when he wants to. He also chooses not to judge her for complaining about a cancelled concert when millions of people around the world are sick and dying, of which she’s well aware. The guilt hits her secondarily, a privilege in and of itself.

“I’m so gross. I have no right to be upset about this right now.”

Shawn lifts some coppery strands out of her face and tucks them behind her ear. “You’re allowed to care about both.”

Lilly remains grouchy and unconvinced.

“Plus, the universe can’t keep you from Taylor forever, since we’re friends.”

Lilly keeps her eyes down and sucks at her front teeth. Shawn nudges her.

“What?”

Lilly’s expression doesn’t change, save for her eyebrows lifting. Her eyes remain unfocused on her legs. Shawn noses at her temple. Her eyes shut.

“Lillian, what?”

Lilly squirms and lifts the sheet over their heads, letting the world back in. She slides out of his arms and out of the bed, crossing to the chair for her cozy shorts and a big shirt.

“... nothing. It’s nothing.”

She knows she’s not getting away with it, not even close. She doesn’t want to look at him to see just how much she’s not pulling this off.

“Baby, come on.”

Lilly takes a long moment to blink and turns to face him. He’s shirtless and flushed in their rumpled sheets. She tilts her head and sighs, drifting back to him. She gets a knee up on the bed and slides her fingers into his curls. They seem to hug around them like her hand belongs there. He’s staring up at her like a woodland creature.

“Nothing. We should stop fucking and go call our moms before they realize that we’re total heathens.”

Shawn swallows uneasily but seems ready to drop it, for now. He takes her wrist to his lips and chuckles.

“My mum already knows.”

“About you, maybe, not about me.”

Shawn smirks and releases her, watching Lilly trail off in search of a cozy phone spot.

“Tell your mom happy mother’s day from me,” he calls.

Lilly looks back at him as she pads down the hall. “And tell yours from me.”

+

Lilly watches, entranced, as each pat of butter melts seamlessly into the silky pot of mashed potatoes. She’s not thinking, she’s not measuring, just feeling. Butter. Butter. More butter. She adds a whole stick before she realizes what she’s doing. Her gaze darts over her shoulder. Shawn is facing away from her at the other countertop, muttering to himself as he pulls out ingredients for Yorkshire puddings. She mashes her lips together and turns back, whisking hard to incorporate all her sins.

Cooking has become nearly as meditative as yoga recently. After spending their first few weeks together abusing their bodies in different ways, cooking feels like healing now. The grill took them a few attempts to master, and they side-stepped some potentially life threatening disasters to do it, but now they char slabs of eggplant and zucchini and ears of corn wrapped in tinfoil. They roast potatoes in the oven with fresh herbs and olive oil. Cooking brings them together at the end of the day and gives them a way to take care of each other and themselves.

Mother’s Day presented the perfect opportunity to expand their repertoires and distract themselves from missing their families. The Sunday roast was Lilly’s idea -- whole roast chicken with thyme butter, creamy mashed potatoes, roasted root veggies and Yorkshire puddings with gravy. Mother’s Day Sunday roast is a Mendes family tradition, one Shawn hasn’t been around for in a few years. He had hoped to be home for this one. Lilly decides to bring some home to him.

His arm is hard and warm, wriggling between the stove and her waist as he winds it around her. His other hand presents her with a glass of white. She accepts the kiss on the side of her neck and pretends to stir to look busy.

“Oh, hi,” she murmurs into the wide-bowled glass.

“Oh, hi,” he chuckles, giving her a squeeze, “I saw the butter.”

Lilly huffs. “Goddamnit.” She can’t shake her stupid smile though. He was watching her when she wasn’t watching him.

“Gonna kill us both,” he purrs into her skin, like he doesn’t mind one bit.

“My plan all along.”

Shawn hums in response and backs off, to Lilly’s chagrin.

“Batter’s ready, chef.”

Lilly turns the range down low to keep the potatoes warm. She turns and waves him over, gloving her hand with an oven mitt to get the hot muffin tin from the pre-heated oven. She holds it as Shawn pours batter into each cup.

“The trick my mom taught me is not to open the oven door once they’re in there,” Shawn reports with a nod, watching as Lilly closes the door and sets a timer. Lilly glances at him suspiciously.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, kid, who do you think you’re talking to?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “An American.”

Lilly’s eyes bulge and her jaw drops. She swats him across the chest with her mitt, but lets him cradle her up against him anyway.

“You take that back!” she squeaks.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know you hate being reminded.”

Lilly and Shawn sit on the floor and watch the little popovers rise. They don’t open the oven door even once until the timer goes off.

Lilly puts on John Mayer again over the house speakers. They’re eating in the actual dining room today to be fancy, figuring their setting should match their food.

“He’s been soothing my achy soul lately,” Lilly sighs, dropping into her seat, immediately crossing her legs so her foot brushes up against him. Shawn nods absently but his eyes narrow a little at his potatoes. Lilly’s grin takes up half her face.

“You’re jealous!”

Shawn completes the eye roll his face was begging him for. He finishes chewing and sits back to glare at her. “Of course I’m jealous. Why is my music not enough for your achy soul? Why do you need Mayer?”

The teasing lilt in Shawn’s voice just makes Lilly laugh harder. “You love him even more than I do.”

“I do,” he sighs, “Maybe we could FaceTime with him soon and he can soothe you directly.”

Lilly feels herself going magenta. Shawn doesn’t toss around his celebrity weight, or even work his friend connections very often, but when he does, he does it with purpose. Lilly attempts to stay cool. Ish.

“I would not say no to that,” she attempts lightly, but her face-splitting smile gives her away. Shawn grins knowingly and bobs his head.

“I’ll text him. Maybe I can talk to Taylor, too, get you your own personal Lover Fest.”

Lilly’s smile falters a little. Her gaze drifts to her plate. She shoves a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Shawn notices a shift.

“What?” His mouth is full.

Lilly swallows and lifts a shoulder casually. “I just didn’t figure you were really in a place to be asking Taylor for favors anymore.”

The song changes to a track Lilly doesn’t know. The air seems to crackle. Shawn sits forward as Lilly sits back. She manages to lift her eyes from her crispy chicken skin.

“What do you mean?”

Regret fills Lilly’s gut faster than the food. She takes a long sip of wine.

“I mean after what happened last year.”

He didn’t really need her to clarify, she knows. She also knows he doesn’t require further detail.

He comes up on his elbows, his brow furrowing. “I can probably guess what you think happened, but it’s more complicated than that.”

Lilly exhales and drops her fork, crossing her arms. Shawn looks alarmed.

“I have no doubt you can guess what I think, because you know me pretty well. And you probably also know I think it’s bullshit.”

Shawn’s eyes harden. “Lilly, you don’t know everything. You weren’t there. I don’t owe you an explanation for this, you weren’t involved.”

Lilly’s lips tighten at the corners, the kiss of death. Shawn’s shoulders tighten further, pulling up toward his ears.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think you don’t. Maybe that’s exactly what’s wrong,” Lilly jabs.

Shawn looks baffled. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who’s always telling me I don’t owe everyone everything. But now suddenly I owe people every detail? It had nothing to do with me.”

“You thinking it had nothing to do with you is a huge fucking problem, Shawn! It is a privilege! No one has threatened everything you’ve built. Why would they? You’re a white man. And you sat down and shut up when she needed you.”

The muscle in Shawn’s jaw twitches. “You don’t know shit about what I did, you weren’t fucking there. Stop pretending like you know everything. It’s fucking complicated, okay? Jesus, Lilly.”

Lilly deflates and folds her hands, pressing her forehead into them. “Let’s not do this. Let’s just not fucking do this, this was supposed to be nice. Can we not? I don’t want to fight.”

She looks up at him, pleading.

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. “I want to fight.”

Lilly blinks. “What?”

He nods urgently. “I do. I want to fight. Let’s fight, let’s figure it out and get through it. Let’s fucking fight, Lill, because it’s so much better than being fucking silent.”

Lilly swallows. Her stomach lurches. Shawn does not waver.

“Fine. Tell me, then. Tell me what you did. You texted her?”

Shawn scoffs. “I didn’t just fucking text her, I called her. We talked for like an hour. And if she were here, she’d tell you that and she’d say we’re totally fine, we’re good. Because we are.”

Lilly pushes a hand into her hair and feels the tears in her eyes. “No you’re not. You’re not fine. You showed up and did the bare minimum, Shawn, you’re not fucking fine.”

His eyes get huge. “What the fuck, Lilly? You don’t even know her!”

“I don’t have to!” she cries, throwing her arms up, “I don’t have to know her personally to know how many texts and calls she got from guys like you who felt bad but wanted to stay out of the way, stay in their lane, stay out of trouble. When you look at the ratio of women who spoke up compared to men, it’s fucking sad, Shawn. And honestly, I did not expect you to land on the wrong side of that, I really didn’t. But that was just the start.”

He narrows his eyes. “The start of what?”

“You shut down. You just… shut down. You got the girl and then fucked off. You have to know that’s what it looked like to everyone.”

“I fucked off because literally everyone was telling me to. Lilly, I swear to god, if you saw the kind of stuff people were saying to me, about me, about her…”

Lilly feels a chill down her spine. She’s desperate to crawl away from this.

“Shawn--”

“Everyone hated me. Everyone hated us. What was I supposed to do?”

Lilly chews on her lip and mutters, “Maybe not post that gross make out video, for one thing.”

He inhales so sharply Lilly looks up at him. His nostrils are flared. Did he get taller in the last two minutes?

“It was a fucking joke, Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, well, you were the only two who thought it was funny.”

Shawn takes a breath and scrubs his hands over his face, then back into his hair, holding it back as he stares down at his food.

“I know the video was stupid. It wasn’t supposed to make people so mad.”

Lilly shifts in her seat uncomfortably. She takes his olive branch and returns with one of her own.

“Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and defend your entire fandom. I know better. I know a lot of the shit you guys took was unfair. But the distance came from both sides, Shawn. You alienated them, they alienated you right back. It doesn’t matter who shot first. That distance is still there.”

Shawn doesn’t argue her point. He draws a crispy corner of Yorkshire pudding through his gravy and pops it in his mouth. “I really thought the Foundation would turn it around, but it only made it worse.”

Lilly winces. “But you get why, right?”

Shawn clicks his tongue. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“It’s hollow, Shawn. It didn’t feel like you. Your heart wasn’t in it. It was like someone put your name on it and said ‘okay, guys, tell us what you want this to be.’ I mean, what is it? What do you want it to be?”

Shawn looks hurt. Lilly wonders if she should’ve pulled back a little, then thinks about what he said earlier.

I want to fight.

Lilly realizes maybe she wants to fight too. If fighting means fighting for this, for them, Lilly will get her gloves on and go to work. She steels herself.

“The whole point was to give a voice to my fans, to be the way they can make a difference. Have them act through me. That’s what I liked about it!”

Lilly shuts her eyes. “But it wasn’t your idea.”

She knew that already without him having to say it. The circumstances made that clear.

“Andrew pitched it, but I approved it,” Shawn snaps.

“Then do something with it!” Lilly cries, “Show some ownership! Show everyone you care what it means, what it does. You’ve always been so good at that. It’s one of the reasons people love you so much. Why people were hurt when you disappeared. Suddenly you were either nowhere, or you were with her. People missed you. I fucking know I did.”

Shawn’s shoulders begin to sink. The tense feeling clenching around Lilly’s ribcage loosens. Shawn reaches a hand out, face up on the table. Lilly slips hers into his and watches his thumb rub her skin.

“I didn’t know you were still paying attention,” he whispers.

Lilly lets the past several months drift over her face. “I tried not to.”

What’s left of their food is cold. Mayer’s voice feels loud in the absence of their yelling. They gaze at each other, looking and feeling haunted. Shawn is first to break the silence.

“I don’t want it to be like this. I… I don’t think I want to tell everyone everything all the time, but I don’t want it like this either. I can’t be afraid to talk to my fans.”

Lilly nods. “There’s a middle ground. You can find it.”

Shawn studies the veins in the translucent skin of her wrist. “Will you help me?”

Lilly smirks. “When you want me to, sure. But you don’t need me for that, Shawn.”

He’s silent for a long time. Lilly watches the tears gather in his eyes as they soften.

“But I do need you. I fuckin’ need you, Lill, you know that right?”

Lilly nods eagerly. “I know.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied. “No, I mean, of course I need you, but I want you. I want you so bad, all the time, every day. In every way I can have you. You make everything in my life better. And I swear to god, if you let me, I’ll make sure I can do the same for you.”

Lilly squeezes his hand. Her heart swims up into her throat and pushes out the words she hasn’t said in almost a year. “I love you.”

Shawn illuminates from the inside out. His cheeks go a vivid pink. He squeezes her hand right back and pulls it up to his lips. “I love you too, Lilly.”

Lilly cups his cheek. Her smile is small and quiet, but it’s not fragile.

The song changes. The opening notes are so distinctive, they have Shawn and Lilly smiling knowingly in under three seconds.

“See?” Lilly squawks, “John just gets me.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back, holding his hand out to her. “Whatever. John may ‘get you,’ but I have you. C’mere.”

Lilly gasps, eyes sparkling. She looks to his face, then his outstretched hand, then back at his face. She’s vibrating in her seat.

“No!”

“Yes!” Shawn laughs. Lilly springs out of her chair and takes his offer before he can reel it back in. He holds their clasped hands to his chest and grins as she takes her place between his bare feet. They bob along awkwardly beside the table, cast in powder blue dusk from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Fucking finally, it’s like, why even bother putting John Mayer on if no one’s gonna ask you to dance?” Lilly crows, looking smug.

Shawn pecks the tip of her nose and pulls her closer. She rests her cheek on his chest.

“Now we see everything that’s going wrong

With the world and those who lead it

We just feel like we don’t have the means

To rise above and beat it…”

Shawn sings along and Lilly doesn’t even pretend like that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She stares up at him, delighted by his total willingness to satisfy even the little whims she doesn’t say out loud. They don’t notice when the song changes. Lilly magnanimously decides not to step on Shawn’s foot when he says that her body, too, is a wonderland.

But she does prove it to him again later that night.

+

Epilogue

July 28th, 2020

Lilly squints up at the sky. It’s so blue that her retinas ache, but she finds what she needs.

“Look! Look, a cloud. Not safe to fly. You should stay. Come on, chop chop, bags down. You’re staying.”

Shawn drops his backpack into the trunk of the town car. His eyes are hidden behind mirrored aviators, but Lilly doesn’t need to see them to know his smile doesn’t quite reach them.

“I’m going to remind you again this was your idea,” he sighs.

Lilly scrunches her face up in protest but it doesn’t push away the tears building in her eyes like she hoped.

He’s right. It’s been almost a month since they had the first conversation about it. It wasn’t nearly as scary when it was hypothetical. It started with an innocent comment, Lilly joking about Shawn not having anything to write about if they’re together and happy all the time. 

“You need some angst. How are you ever gonna miss me enough to write about me if we’re standing on top of each other all day every day?”

Shawn brushed it off, but it took hold in both their minds. It was another full week before they had a real conversation about it. Lilly cried and Shawn stared in horror, then held her.

“We cannot become real again in a vacuum. I love you, I love this, but it’s not real life. I want you for real. I need this to be real,” Lilly pleaded.

Negotiations ran in circles for a while. Maybe they just needed a change of scenery, Shawn suggested. They could take a little safe vacation somewhere, rent a place in Malibu or Big Sur. Distance wasn’t the answer. It couldn’t be.

But distance is their reality when the world is not on fire. Lilly does not work in an industry that permits her to follow Shawn around on tour or promo. Even if she did, they agree that arrangement could get emotionally fraught pretty fast. Lilly argues they have to get good at the distance again, since that was one of the factors that broke them up to begin with. Shawn insists that if they’re lucky enough to be together and safe during this time of crisis, there’s no reason to give it up.

Back and forth, round and around and around again. There was no compromise to be made. They were either together or apart.

Shawn tearfully agrees one night. Lilly is immediately horrified.

“No. No, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go. Shawn, don’t go. Don’t let me bully you into this. This is a terrible fucking plan. Why would you leave? Everything is good!” she sobs.

Shawn wipes his eyes and tucks her into his chest so she can cry without him staring at her.

“You were right, Lill. If we’re ever going to be more than this, we have to start. We have to get better at it.”

“But this is already so good! Shawn, if you leave now, we have no way of knowing when we’ll see each other again. Things are already getting worse. What if you can’t get back?”

Shawn’s jaw clenches. It’s the one thing they haven’t said out loud. This distance could be more permanent than they intend for it to be if the pandemic continues to worsen in the U.S. There’s a possibility that if he leaves now, they won’t see each other again in 2020.

“We’re gonna figure that out,” he insists, wiping his hard calloused thumbs beneath her eyes, “If I have to marry you to make you a Canadian citizen and get you the fuck out of here, I will.”

Lilly’s heart skips a beat even as her eyes narrow. “What a romantic you are.”

Shawn chuckles, but it’s a dull, wet sound through his own tears. He arranges his pre-flight COVID test and buys a ticket home to Toronto the next day.

Without Shawn, and with her roommates calming down and staying virus free, there’s no reason to stay in this big house by herself. They take down the recording tent and send the equipment back. They carefully pry Command hooks off the ceiling, erasing the evidence. They latch up the doors on the balcony for good. Lilly’s car is packed; she’ll head back to Burbank right after Shawn leaves.

The summer breeze ruffles his curls, which she cut again recently so he doesn’t look like a sad sheepdog when he goes home to his mum, after the allotted two weeks of quarantining at his place in Toronto. He reaches for her, and her throat immediately burns, like it was holding off until he touched her again.

“I have terrible ideas. Don’t ever listen to me again,” Lilly half sobs. Shawn folds himself around her. She clings to him, digging her fingernails into the seams of his denim shirt. She feels his shaky exhale and feels ten times worse.

“What did I do?” she hiccups, “Why did I do this?”

Shawn lays his cheek on top of her head and sniffs before he speaks. “Because you want us to be real. Because you know it’s going to be different this time.”

Lilly breathes out slowly. Shawn loosens his grip and shifts to take her face in his hands. His cheeks are patchy pink, his eyes are a little bloodshot. He presses kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her lips. They kiss until they’re dizzy.

Shawn lets go, maybe because he knows she won’t. He reaches for the door of the car to anchor himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Lilly rasps.

Shawn nods. “I know. You know how much I love you, right?”

Lilly’s face crumples. She can’t speak. She nods.

Shawn smiles. “Then we’re gonna be okay.”

Lilly covers her nose and mouth as he climbs into the back of the town car. She stands there until it’s beyond the gates of the driveway and out of sight.

Lilly turns and looks up at the house. It’s not the first time she’s considered the mysterious magic of the place. In its age and grandness, Lilly knows hers is not the only gift it’s given. Theirs are not the only secrets it holds. She’s resigned to never knowing the rest, content with taking what it offered and hoping they left it with some of their own magic, too, for whomever needs it next.

----------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities​ @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn​ @infiniteshawn​ @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway​ @alone-in-madness​ @abigfatmess​ @shawnitsmutual​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @september-lace​ @sinplisticshawn​ @rollingxstone​ @randi-eve​ @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire​ @itrocksmysocks​ @parkerspicedlatte​ @simpledomain​ @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day​ @thecurlsofgod​ @magcon7280​ @bensbuttercup​ @shawnsmusical​ @paigeasourous​ @tell-me-when-ur-ready​ @softmendesss​ @searchingunderthestars​ @buggy-blogs​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @siennarossi​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul​ @sleepybesson​ @shawnsheaven @poseshawn​ @shaawnie @shawn-youth​ @graysonmendes​

[thesquidgame]

Umbrella Academy Trailer Breakdown

Keep in mind that I wrote like 4 pages of this and then my computer deleted it by accident and I have now way to retrieve it, so this was originally much longer

The first two names that Five calls are Diego and Luther

Across the street there is a sign advertising Kiss Vampire

There is a 1963 movie called The Kiss of the Vampire that was released on september 11th 1963

It’s about a honeymooning couple who get drawn into a vampire cult

Fun

The soldiers appear to gun down one of their own men

Who is waving a red flag, which can stand for communism or socialism

The siblings look beaten and bruised when a nuke goes off

I don’t think that’s the end of the season though

I think it’s what Five sees that causes him to go further back and prevent it

The song playing is called “Here Comes the End” it’s a new song by Gerard fucking Way

The traditional netflix transition is turned into black and white

Five still looks freaked out

So I think Cha Cha pulled him back further in time

Cha Cha looks a lot older, so he’s probably been there for some time

It goes deeper into a store, then a sewing shop, then a bunch of cars outside of a house with police directing them

The record playing is Johann Sebastians Bach’s Chaconne

Chaconne is defined by the Oxford dictionary as: a composition in a series of varying sections in slow triple time, typically over a short repeated bass theme.

Which could weirdly enough describe the Hargreeves as well

Klaus has a cult, with a LOT of followers

As long as he doesn’t hurt them then I’m just glad he’s getting some love

His cult appears to be about him reassuring and comforting people who have lost loved ones

Allison appears to be in court, she’s sitting next to another man and woman, with a lot of white people who look pissed behind her

Luther is a boxer that I can’t tell if he’s hated or loved

Ben is so done with Klaus’ shit

Diego is in an asylum with Lila and I’m not happy

Vanya is in a car with a woman and a little kid

She has one hand on the steering wheel and the other at an angle that leads me to believe she has her hand on the woman’s knee

Five somehow rounded up the gang

Want to see what that was like

They are already SO done with Klaus’ cult it’s not even funny

Okay a little funny

Okay very funny

A minute in! (I already did this shit for an hour and a half and it was deleted so I’m so unenthusiastic but whatevs)

Diego has his hair cut and he’s in his outfit when they are going in to see the tv, and his outfit looks a little dirty so it’s probably a little later in the season

It looks like they are going to the place where Five was meant to assassinate the president

There are silhouettes of Five and Luther in the reflection

Diego is talking to Allison about how the whole thing revolves around the president’s assasination, and there’s a man in the background

Allison is holding the man from earliers hands while he’s in jail

Yay!

Her romantic subplot isn’t with her brother!

Five is looking at a zoomed-in image of a woman wearing a hijab or a scarf looking up at the sky in shock

Vanya is looking in fear at a tape with someone standing ominously in the background

It looks like at the beginning we think it’s nuclear bombs that destroy the earth (it’s probably something different in the end)

Diego is standing in some sort of control room

Five is sneaking through another room that looks to be in the same or a similar building

Another message or whatever for the three men that look like the musketeers grew up to be an Edward Scissorhands Scrooge

I wonder if the milkman’s milk is sour or if he just refills the milk with good milk every time he goes to murder somebody

The scorrges break into the asylum where DIego is at and starts shooting at him and Lila

They escape, because he’s Diego

Allison looks really beat up, by the “vacuum salesmen”

I know that line wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was really fucking funny

Halfway there… Again

Someone did a flip and-

HOLY FUCK

THe goldfish guy?!

This is some megamind shit!

Klaus’ cult is a happy cult :)

Diego and Lila have a budding romance

Someone gets blasted

Vanya looks really scared at the wheel of a car by the milk man

That was phrased horribly

Some jackass dodges one of Diego’s knives

This is kinda off topic

But there is such a harsh contrast between the characters moods in the instagram posts and in the trailer

For example, Allison looked super happy in the posts, but super pissed in the trailer

Klaus looked super pissed in the posts, but super happy in the trailer

Same thing goes for the rest of them, it completely contrasts

Klaus looks like he’s dancing while high in a liquor isle (you were doing so good baby, so good)

Klaus, Allison, and Vanya dancing in the foyer in something I can get behind

I love Vanya’s dancing

In every situation, it’s awkward, it’s nerdy, but it’s so good

It’s a Napolean Dynamite type situation

I’m not going to get into that interaction with Luther and Five, I don’t know

It looks like Luther and Five team up in this season and that is a nope from me

Ben shushes Klaus in front of a door title bureau and I don’t even know

LOL, a book meant for very dumb children

THis is a cute fight between Ben and KLaus

Stop trying to make Luther and Five happen, it’s not going to happen

I love it how Five asks Klaus

He’s not even like

As he here? In like a hopeful way

It’s more like, how many idiots do we have to deal with today

No, unfortunately ghosts can’t time travel

Are you kidding me?

That seems like Justin and Robert’s real life chemistry,  lol

The sign behind Ben’s head isn’t actually a real place

Someone got PISSED at Luther

I’m betting it was Vanya

The second she saw him she was like

Hey asshole, remember the years of abuse you put me through and how you hurt me more when I was hurt?

Guess what bitch, that came back to haunt you

But then again? How were you supposed to know that you’re actions had consequences

Boo-hoo

Look! It’s Allison’s boyfriend again!

It looks like Allison and Klaus are together in time, and when Five popped in they were like wut

Baby Pogo. No.

Yay! Diego beats the shit out of 66% of the scrooges

Ax child ax child ax child

Who beat up Luther I’ll shake his hand

Flippity flip flip flippity

Why in there the giant beams of light hurting Allison HASN’T SHE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH

I AM 10000000% here for the tiki hut

I heard a rumor that you punched yourself in the face

Young Reginald

NO NO NO

This is a really important detail

11/22/63 is a Stephen King novel

11/22/63 is a novel about

A TIME TRAVELER WHO GOES BACK IN TIME TO STOP THE KENNEDY ASSASINATION

THE SAME PLOT

Here’s the wikipedia page, Gerard knows what he’s doing

[shurisneakers]

shut in [9]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: ok ok ok ok sam deserves the world and im mad that he’s not getting it

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

He was gone.

10:00am

Time had begun to slip past you. Days where you were forced to wake up at 4am were just a dreary memory you didn’t want to revisit. The rough shoves in the morning to have you awake enough to be in training by 4:30am only fell into the category of things you had forgotten over the time you had stayed here.

Maybe sleep wasn’t a luxury you weren’t allowed to afford.

10:30am

By the time you step into the kitchen, the loose structure of the day you had ahead of you was forming. Maybe if you revisited the small makeshift shooting range you had set up for Sam and you to practice. A couple of old soup cans, a flat boulder for them to sit on and you were good to go. He had allowed you to use his giant board for knife throwing too, laughed when you asked for permission before saying it was for the both of you. 

You made a sandwich for yourself, forcing it down your throat with water. Bread was starting to feel like cardboard and the jam just tasted like nothing. Peanut butter was even worse.

Losing appetite wasn’t an option, even though it had eroded a while ago. The best option was to just scarf it down with water. 

11:00am

Sam isn’t in the house, you had deduced. A morning run or maybe just some fresh air.

You checked for the notes he sometimes left for you when he went out. Something along the lines of when he’d be back, or why he’d left, or where you could find him. 

You looked on top of the fridge where he generally left them; someplace he knew you’d see. You didn’t find one.

You shrugged it off. 

Something felt wrong about the arrangement of the kitchen but you couldn’t place a finger on what it was. All the chairs were in its place, trash appropriately in the bin, no bowls were left from soup day in the sink to wash. 

The origami swan you had made still rested next to his paper airplane. Nothing seemed wrong or out of place. 

You pushed yourself to shake off the nerves, to get dressed instead. The shooting range was waiting for you.

12:45pm

When you shoot for thirty and get all thirty, it tends to get a little boring. Not that you were complaining; if even one was off you’d spend the whole day trying to make up for it.

Violent hobbies weren’t ideal. They weren’t even hobbies per se. Just skills you needed to keep sharp if you wanted to survive.

You even shot at the targets that you had hung up on the trees. Dangerous and completely Sam’s idea. Said the wind made them act like moving targets. Nevermind the possibility of a ricochet.

The target board was empty too. Admittedly, knife throwing was a little harder  to get used than shooting to but it still only took a few tries before you were hitting bullseye over and over again.

There just wasn’t anything to do. And you realised it had been this way for a while but you never noticed due to his lively chatter or how competitive it got with stupid games you were making up as you went. 

1:00pm

You learned against the counter as you ate, eyeing the room, trying to figure out what you had misplaced. The air was cold, even more so after the shower, so you threw on an extra t-shirt to aid you.

You made a noise of disapproval when you couldn’t find what was wrong. A quick wash of your hands before you made your way to the TV, fully intending to doze off while watching Megamind for the fourth time. 

You passed by the mini fridge on the way, noting how you needed to restock the ice cubes when you suddenly stopped in your path.

Your eyes peeled back to the small paper bowl Sam had crafted expertly that was still somehow managing to stick together. But that was what was wrong.

The keys were missing.

The fucking car keys and the pocket change you had taken from Pierce’s house were no longer there. 

Your body moved on autopilot, dragging you towards the front door. You yanked it open, door creaking under the pressure you applied on it.

Your heart sank. 

The car was gone.

1:20pm

You had all the possibilities listed out in front of you with the rest scratched out after you had rationalised it.

Someone had come in and taken the car, which wasn’t likely. 

Sam had stepped out but hadn’t mentioned it to you. If he did, why would he need the car?

Someone had abducted Sam, which was absurd on paper but still left a twinge of uncertainty because you couldn’t definitively rule it out. 

He had just left. Decided he was done and left. 

You stared at the last option. 

“Fuck,” you cursed.

You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?

You wondered if it was that conversation. 

He wouldn’t leave after you told him, would he?

You hesitated before shaking your head.

He’d come back. He would.

1:45pm 

You had added a few more possibilities to the list but discarded it almost immediately.

You now found a place in front of the TV, watching but not registering what was said. Your fingers kept itself busy by playing with the hem of your shirt. You had thrown another one on since his jacket was missing with the rest of him. It had gotten colder.

The woman droned on about how much her husband loved the recipe she was making. It was Sam’s favourite segment, not because it was particularly fantastic or anything, but because it gave him forty five minutes of free content to trash talk.

Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock. Was it broken or was time much slower than you initially thought?

You almost felt like you were in a cognitive dysfunction; you couldn’t do anything other than while away time till you figured out what had gone wrong. 

2:00pm

If you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t have heard the soft crunch of twigs. The whirring of the wheels as it turned gently only made you sit up straight, hands on the gun that rested on the couch beside you.

It came to a stop. The gun was fully in your grip now, TV turned off to determine what the noises were.

It was the most agonisingly slow minute you spent listening as the car opened and shut, muffled by the distance. You were near the door, using the adjoining wall as a hideaway. 

The doorknob shook as someone tried to push their way in. 

“Sam?” you called out cautiously against your better judgement, mentally cringing. 

It took a second for his reply to return. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Let me in, will you? Stupid door’s not opening.”

Of course it wouldn’t. It was fingerprint activated.

Relief flooded your system, letting yourself hold the gun with only one hand as you hastily made your way to open the door.

However, you paused. As much as you wanted to fling the door open blindly, you waited, hand on the knob.

“Is someone out there with you?”

“What?” he sounded confused. “No, it’s just me.”

You opened the door slightly, peeking out through the sliver of open space. 

Sure enough, it was only him. The car was returned to the same spot that it was.

“Where were you?” You yanked the door open. You sounded way more aggressive than you planned to, you were sure. It didn’t matter though.

“Went to the store,” he said nonchalantly, stepping inside, and dropping the keys back where they were.

“What?” 

He was so relaxed about it, like it was nothing. It only irked you further than you already were.

“Drove the car till the highway, walked into town and went to the store.” He set the bag down. “What’d you do all day?”

“You went to the town,” you emphasised. “To the fucking store.”

“Yeah, I figured you would be up by the time I came back.”

“You were gone for hours.” You crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to yell. You could talk it out calmly. You didn’t have to snap

You hoped he had a good reason. You sincerely hoped, for his well being and security, that he risked his life to go to public space.

“We’re way further out than you think. Nearest dollar store’s almost the next fuckin’ state if you’re walking. Had to ditch the car because it’s a little too flashy, even for me.” He lifted up the bag next to him. “Got us some ramen. And juice. That’s all we had cash for anyway.”

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“You could have been seen, Sam,” your tone was corrosive, the next best you could do instead of yelling. “For all we know, you could have been followed.”

“No one followed me. I made sure.”

That did nothing to alleviate the anxiety that was crawling into your head. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“Where are you going?” You ignored him, turning on your heel and walking to the bedroom. You didn’t care if it was his day that day. He could rot in the kitchen with his stupid ramen for all you cared.

You cursed as you slammed the door behind you, launching yourself onto the bed. 

There was no denying you were relieved that he was still alive and here. But fuck him. Fucking dickhead. 

Fucking juice.

You spent the next couple of hours feeling absolutely embarrassed for yourself. Why did you spend hours worrying if he was safe when he was out there, gallivanting in public for some stupid noodles?

Both of you could have been absolutely fucked if he wasn’t careful. He may have just jeopardised your entire set up.

But deep down, no matter how much it was annoying to acknowledge, you knew he wouldn’t have. He was smart, strategic. 

Why would he do something like this?

How much you were worried scared you. There was no time where it had occurred that maybe you were in danger too. Every possibility you came up with only pushed the thought of him possibly in trouble further into your head. 

But the more you spend time overthinking, the more you realised that him being in danger wasn’t the entire cause of your worry. 

What if he didn’t come back? Why’d he come back? 

He had the means to leave, the will to and clearly was able to go undetected for a while. He didn’t need to return, but he did. 

And for what; to give you some food he bought from the dollar store. 

He seemed excited about it too, before you had closed the door on his face and decided to spend the next few hours self-destructing.

Fucking ramen.

Maybe if you could just lie there until you decomposed, then you wouldn’t have to have a conversation with him about this. That’s what you would have done a couple of months ago. 

But now the idea of communicating had been implanted and implemented several times before. It didn’t feel right to push it away, not when you’d come so far. A chance to heal.

You groaned, shoving a pillow onto your face before getting up grumpily. 

Fuck this man and his stupid, healthy methods of coping. 

___

You opened the door slowly, creeping into the hallway to assess what he was doing. It had been a few hours of silence in the house. He had given you space, not come knocking on the door to explain himself. 

You took note of the kitchen. The table had been laid with two bowls of noodles covered with a plate along with a glass each of juice. It was domestic. Cute.

He was watching Die Hard but the volume was turned down low. If he was anything like you, he wouldn’t have been paying too much attention.

You cleared your throat awkwardly to grab his attention.

His neck craned to look at you, surprise flashing across his face for a second before he leapt up, turning off the TV in an instant.

“Y/N,” he stated as normally as he could.

“Samuel,” your tone was steady. 

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Wasn’t sure if you were gonna show up.” 

“Neither was I.” You looked at the table, gesturing towards it with your shoulder. “Watchu got there, Gordon Ramsey?”

Because screw him, but the longer you stood there staring at the bowl, you were starting to understand the lengths he went to to get something other than bread, peanut butter and soup. As much as the prospect of being petty thrilled you, you had survived on nothing but them for the past few weeks.

“Got a few packs of ramen and a gallon of juice from the store. Thought you- we deserve somethin’ nice.” You noticed his quick coverup but didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s not Michelin star worthy, but it’ll do.”

You nodded, avoiding looking at him.

“I-”

“Hey-”

Both of you started at the same time, only to be cut off by the other. You mentioned for him to continue.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should have told you before I left,” You didn’t expect the sincerity that exuded from every word he let out and you found yourself unable to look away. “I’m not used to people worrying about where I go... but things are different now. I won’t do it again.”

You weren’t used to the feeling of lightness that accompanied an apology. Relief. 

“Thank you,” you said breathily. His face noticeably brightened. “But why’d you come back?”

His small smile left as soon as it came, as his face fell into a frown. “What?”

“You could have just left. You had the car, the-” you stopped yourself from listing out reasons why he should have. “Why’d you come back?”

He looked completely confused. 

“Because I wanted to,” he voiced. “Leaving you behind was never an option. I wouldn’t-”

He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours. 

“You’re stuck with me,” he urged softly. “We’re a team.”

You lingered on him longer than you wanted to admit. He wasn’t lying, you had realised. 

“Care to join me for dinner?” he asked, extending a hand to you.

You rolled your eyes but took it, feeling the heat creep up your neck. He smirked at you and fuck, he was frustratingly cute. 

You understood. You totally understood when you nearly died at the first bite you took, vowing to never take food like this for granted again. It may have been the absolute bare minimum; just the seasoning and noodles he had cooked in the microwave, but it was the best goddamn meal you ever had.

“Good, right?” He looked about as content as he could be. 

“Best fuckin’ day of my life.”

He kidded around some more. You choked out a laugh at some, wholly ignored the others to which he took complete offence. You saw it as a way to humble him.

This was the normalcy you had crushed your craving for so long ago, accepting that it wouldn’t ever happen. A normal dinner with someone who made you smile, no impending doom lurking around the corner and maybe a shot at a glimmer of something happy. 

It was strange that you found it with another hitman in a safe house, hiding from authorities and who knows what else, with food worth a couple of cents. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

Yet there were things that had to be discussed. Conversations that needed to happen.

“Sam, we need to talk about it.” You didn’t have to explain, he knew what you were talking about.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you. 

“I’m listening.”

“We do,” he agreed, and you could feel the atmosphere in the room begin to shift. “But we don’t have to do it now.”

He reached across from where he was sitting, hesitantly interlacing your fingers. The sense of fluster you experienced wasn’t healthy, you decided.

You just ducked your head, fighting against the damn smile that was trying to make its way onto your face. You didn’t pull away.

“Okay.”

Next part

[buginateacup]

1 & 5?

1: Is writing cathartic or stressful for you?

I wouldn't write if I didn't enjoy it, so for me its more cathartic than stressful...up until you have to link two bits of a story together, then its like trying to punch through a brick wall with a feather duster only the feather duster is your brain and its all just a bit of a mess and you regret everything until you see the hit counter on the next chapter go up.

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

Okay so while I'm primarily a Megamind authoress at the moment given this is coming from a Ted Lasso blog here's a little something that might be growing...

(I'm a 2nd gen kid of 3/4 Dutch grandparents so literally every time I see Jan Mass on screen I am internally celebrating)

Colin knows what its like to be a foreigner on English soil. Sure its not the same as coming from another continent or anything but there's something about knowing that you're family is in a whole other country or despite the fact that you're all speaking English, none of the words really sound like home.

So whenever they get another player from Argentina or Nigeria or France there's always this nod of "Ah yes, you're here too," and a bit of shared recognition of missing your Nan's bara brith or your Abuela's empanadas or your Oma's kerstkranches.

So after Ted shows them how to share a taste of home with Sam, Colin tries to make an effort for any other newcomers they bring in. Learn how to say hello at least. Maybe find a restaurant or a shop that sells shit from home, find out some kind of thing about their homeland that isn't what their Eurovision entrant sang last year. Which he thinks he's royally fucked up when it comes to Jan who doesn't seem interested in finding any Dutch restaurants or talking about home until he and Dani and Richard and Jan all get royally smashed on advocaadt and wind up sleeping off a hangover of truly epic proportions at Jan's one night.

And then Jan introduces them to hagelslaag which is fucking brilliant and anyone who gives you chocolate sprinkles on bread for breakfast has to be alright.

--------

The kiss thing was a bit awkward. Jan's heading home for a few days to see his family and Colin's saying goodbye after practice and it turns out the Dutch to three kisses. Right, left and right again. He'd got the first two okay, he's spent enough time around the French players and Richard always manages to find an expat at whatever club they wind up in that he knows what he's doing.

Or he thought he did.

Its the third kiss and Jan is swinging back around but Colin's already pulled back and shit now its going to be awkward so he leans in again and accidentally snogs his teammate in the middle of the change room.

Which, it wouldn't be the first time but not when the whole team is around. Or the boss. Or Keeley. Or the coaches.

After what is approximately an eternity but is really only about half a second, one and a half, three max and definitely long enough for Keeley to have keyed up half a dozen instagram ready photos. Colin drops down onto his heels and opens his eyes to see Jan looking at him thoughtfully.

"Is that cucumber?" He asks and Colin has to remember what words are before he makes the same noise he did when he met one of the Hemsworth brothers at a club once and has to pretend he's speaking Welsh again.