#i got so distracted and forgot to take my meds on time fuck shit!! damn it!!!!

[cetoddle-archive]

i’m eepy goodnight

[hiddlestonsbabygirl]

Care For Me (Steve Rogers au) SugarDaddy!Steve

•prologue•

An alternative universe where Steve isn’t an Avenger, but rather a CEO of one of the biggest companies in the US. His best friend and business partner Bucky secretly made him an account in an online dating site for sugar daddies and sugar babies, setting Steve up on a date with the only suitable sugar baby he thought was best for his best friend among the million others in his inbox.

It’s you. You’re the sugar baby.

Or,

Where reader is a med student who is badly in need of financial support and resorted to desperate measures by signing up to an online dating site with a little help from reader’s best friend, Nat.

•••

You ran up the staircase, not bothering to apologize as you bumped into strangers along the way. Your heart hammered against your chest as sweat outlined your forehead, thoughts running through your mind as you wondered what could have happened to your apartment. You just got a call from your good neighbor Mrs. Sally that the landlord stormed into your hallway followed by two men in white muttering angry words as he unlocked your door with his duplicate key. You knew instantly why he was there. You were getting kicked out of your own apartment since you weren’t able to pay for your rent in six months. The landlord had warned you beforehand to pay sooner, but it was getting harder and harder each day. You were already broke, all your savings spent on your medical school. You didn’t want to stop your studies—you were already on your third year and ever since you graduated college your goal was straight; finish med school, pass the licensure exams and become a doctor. You couldn’t even last a week on your countless part-time jobs because of your coming in late due to knee-deep work you have to face every single day in school.

Your financial status was making it hard for you to finish your goal. Very hard.

You reached your floor, and, as expected, all your things were outside your door in boxes. Your heart sank as you stared at the mess, your clothes and books thrown aggressively into the containers as if they meant nothing but pieces of trash.

You rushed inside and your landlord was standing by your small kitchen, barking orders at his two men, without even noticing that you entered.

“Please, sir,” you cried as you neared him. “Please give me one more chance. I’ll pay by the end of the month, I promise!”

He scowled at you. “I’ve given you too many chances, (Y/N). You’re too much.”

He turned his back at you and proceeded to march into your bedroom, calling out one of his men to follow him inside.

“No!” You yelled angrily this time. You couldn’t believe him. You may haven’t paid your debt owed to this man but that didn’t give him the right to intrude into your privacy.

You ran past them and stood in front of them before they could get any closer to the door, your cheeks flushed and eyes filled with angry tears.

“You can’t just walk into someone’s bedroom and take everything away!” You cried. “I can pack up myself! I don’t need your filthy hands on my belongings!”

Your landlord looked furious. “Then throw your damn things out of my apartment in the next hour or I’ll fucking rip this room apart by myself!”

You flinched at the loudness and anger of his voice before he turned around and left without another word, his men following close behind. Once you heard the main door slam shut you bawled your eyes out, sinking to the floor as you struggled to think of places where you could find refuge without having to pay. All you had in your wallet was a 20-dollar bill, and you didn’t have any extra cash in your bank account. You considered searching for very cheap rooms in the vicinity without having to ride because riding meant paying. But you couldn’t walk on the streets while struggling to hold boxes of your things. They were even too many for only two small hands.

You sobbed. At this point you felt so hopeless already. You almost convinced yourself that you were going to throw your unnecessary things away and sleep on the streets, while asking for spare change. You’d have to give up your med school since you couldn’t shoulder all the expenses anymore and just look for a job where it pays just enough for food and shelter. You didn’t have a family anymore to back you up. Your addictive mother left you for a stranger, and your father’s been gone even before you were born. You didn’t have any siblings, nor uncles or aunts or extended family members where you could go to for help. You had no one. It was only you.

You wiped away your tears, swallowing your pride as you took out your old, worn-out phone from your pocket and dialed your best friend’s number.

Natasha.

She’s been your best friend since high school, and you both shared the same passion in life. You both wanted to become a doctor. You both have so much in common, and you both agree to almost everything. You’ve been there for each other through the ups and downs, and Natasha has helped you through your own struggles financially. But asking for this big favor from her was just too much for you. You didn’t want to add a burden to your best friend—med school is already hard enough as it is.

But you were already desperate. You didn’t have any more options. This was the only one.

“Hello?”

You felt a sudden wave of relief hearing a voice so soothing in the midst of the chaos. “Nat, hi.”

“(Y/N), have you been crying? What happened??”

You hiccuped. “I-I’m fine, Nat. C-Could you come over? I k-kind of need your help.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

As promised, a knock came from your door and you stood up to open it, revealing a worried Natasha standing over your disarrayed valuables.

You couldn’t help yourself. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as she pulled you in for a tight hug and you sobbed into her shoulder.

“We’ll pack up your things and go to my house. You’re staying there for as long as you like. My home is always open for you, (Y/N). And you know that.”

...

“So? How did it go with Katherine?” Bucky spoke up as he stabbed his medium-rare meat with his fork, clearly playing with his food rather than eating it. It was lunch break and Bucky and Steve were in their usual go-to for lunch, Redbird.

“Despite the fact that we called it a night early? It was okay.” Steve replied with a scoff, bringing a spoonful of rice to his mouth and watched as Bucky gave his best friend a deadpanned look.

“And you were the one who ended things early, not her, right?”

Steve nodded. He was slowly getting tired of Bucky setting him up with several women, whom he doesn’t even take interest in. He always has the need to pair Steve with someone because “you always look so bleak and somber,” as Bucky would put it.

“Buck, I really appreciate you doing these stuff for me, being my wingman and all, but I really don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” He retorted. “Then why do you always look so depressed? You can’t fucking tell me your wealth and fame is making you distressed. That’s some absurd bullshit right there.”

“Language.” Steve glared at him. He always hated when people cussed. For him it was indecent and dirty.

Except, of course, cussing in bed. He can only tolerate profanity under the sheets. But not often, though. That would be too much to listen to.

“Seriously??”

“And yes, James. Wealth and fame does not automatically make you happy and unproblematic. Do you know how many rich and famous people died because they took their own life? Because they hide their problems. The only image the public sees is the happy and successful façade they show.”

Silence. Steve was almost convinced he had won over their little argument.

“That shit deep, man.” Bucky only chuckled to which his best friend exhaled an exasperated sigh. Steve couldn’t even bother to point out that Bucky said a bad language word again.

“But you’ve got friends. Your family loves and supports you, you make time for sports and leisure...what could possibly make you so sad??”

Steve breathed out. “I told you, I’m not depressed, I’m not sad. I just don’t feel like dating as of the moment.”

“Will you feel like dating again tomorrow?”

“Haha, very funny.”

Bucky only stared at his best friend as he took a sip of his drink, studying him with confusion and amusement. Very formal man, always has a steely look on his face, very dominant demeanor, couldn’t even stand hearing curse words! What could his best friend possibly like in a woman?? Were his calculations wrong? Did he expect differently? Was he looking at it in a wrong angle?

Is Steve gay??

“Barnes, quit staring at me like that. You’re making me uncomfortable.” Steve brought him back to his senses.

And then it hit him.

“Hey, Steve, I think I need to go.” Bucky announced as he stood up and gathered his phone and wallet lying around on the table.

“Oh? Why the sudden hurry?” The blond-haired man asked as his eyes watched his best friend suddenly look distracted.

“It’s nothing. I just forgot to feed my pet dragon.” He then proceeded to pace towards the exit, leaving Steve confused and asked himself how he was acquainted with a weird and funny man like James Buchanan Barnes.

Little did Steve know that his best friend was up to a very stupid but brilliant idea. He knew he was going to get in trouble if Steve found out about it, but it was worth a shot. And his plan involved an online dating site and younger girls.

........................... ........................... ...........................

A/N: New series! Yay!!! Tags are also open, just hit me up! Next part coming soon ❤️

[themysteryofwriting]

ooo and maybe "body swap" with deku and bakugou?

:3

TW:... cussing I guess?

Bakugou was starting to fucking regret working with Endeavor.  Sure the old man was currently the number one hero despite being Icy Hot’s sperm donor, but this was looking to be an even worse internship than the one he had with that damn fashion designer.

This damn internship wouldn’t have been too bad if it hadn’t been for that asshole burglar.  Hell, it still wouldn’t be bad if it hadn’t been for this damn quirk.

He had been on patrol with damn Deku when they had run into that damn villain.  They quickly came up with a plan, and as much as Katsuki hated to admit, Deku created some pretty good plans when it came to going against villains.

Everything was going pretty well until that damn villain activated his quirk.  One second he was flying through the air to attack the villain, next he knew he was where damn Deku had been standing.  

At first, he thought it had been some sort of teleportation quirk, until he glanced up and saw himself, stumbling a landing across the alleyway.

Bakugou glanced down at himself, hoping he was imagining things, only to see that he was wearing a deep green hero costume.

Slightly panicked, though he definitely wouldn’t show it, Bakugou tried to activate his quirk.  Instead of activating his own quirk, he activated Deku’s.

He felt a second of power coursing through his pain and watches as it was surrounded by green lightning.  But it was only another second before the white-hot pain hit. 

“Fucking-,” he cursed, finally hearing his voice, or should he say Deku’s voice.  

That fucking burglar had a shitty body swap quirk.  

Bakugou was about to go try to help Deku so he could try to get a handle on his shitty quirk when he noticed Deku wasn’t even struggling.  

It seemed like the body swap hadn’t even phased that shitty Deku. While he had broken Deku’s hand, Deku was using his quirk like it was nothing.  Bakugou growled.  This was just another way that Deku was looking down at Bakugou.

Unfortunately, even with Deku still being able to fight back, that damn burglar still got away.

“Kacchan! Are you okay,” Deku called, coming over. “Sorry if I had time to warn you about my quirk I would have but he was right in front of me, and I wanted to try and stop him before-.”  

“Shut up Deku,” Bakugou growled.  Oh god, it was weird to hear Kacchan come out of his mouth like that.  “And don’t call me Kacchan while you’re still in my fucking body.”

Deku went quiet and nodded. “R-right. Anyways, we should probably call this in to let Endeavor know.”  It was then that Deku glanced down and noticed Bakugou’s hand.

“And get you something to fix your hand, I-i know how bad that h-hurts.”

Bakugou tsked at Deku but knew he was right.  “My phone’s in my left pocket.”

Deku tilted his head. “Why are you telling me that Kacchan?”

“Because one of us has two working hands and it sure as hell isn’t me,” Bakugou grumbled, glaring at Deku. 

“R-right,” Deku said, grabbing the phone that was in his pocket.

Deku looked like he was about to use it when he realized something. “Uh, Kacchan? What’s your passcode?”

Bakugou snatched the phone with his good hand and typed it in before tossing the phone back at Deku who stumbled a bit before catching it and working to call Endeavor, walking off to talk to him.

Bakugou grumbled, knowing there was nothing he could do but wait.

After a few minutes, Deku came back.  “Okay so I called him and he said to head back to the agency for now as we’re not used to each other’s bodies yet and it won’t be good if we run into another villain while we’re still and this swapped state and-”

“Deku shut the fuck up,” Bakugou growled.

“S-sorry Kacchan!”

“Let’s just get going shitty nerd,” Bakugou grumbled getting up, being careful not to use his broken hand to get up as they headed back to the agency.

As they entered the agency Bakugou noticed people whispering and growled. “Oh fuck off, all of you.”

“Have to say, it is strange hearing those words from Midoryia’s mouth,” Bakugou heard from behind him and Bakugou practically growled at the smugness in their voice.

“You want to go Icy Hot?”

“Not sure how well you’d do considering you have a broken hand and a quirk you aren’t familiar with,” Icy Hot pointed out.

“Oh you wanna go, I can beat you without using Deku’s shitty quirk and one hand tied behind my back..”

“Kacchan, please! That’s not a good idea right now! You could hurt your- my-,” Deku mumbled a bit before exclaiming, ‘You could hurt my body more!” 

Bakugou didn’t want to back down, however, he knew fighting in Deku’s body, especially with a broken hand would put him at a disadvantage for now.

“I hate that you have a point,” Bakugou growled.

“Todoroki asked me to bring you two to the medical wing so we can look over you and see if we can tell what type of quirk did this.”

Deku nodded, though he muttered something under his breath.  Sounded like ‘but you’re Todoroki too.’

...Huh his hearing was a lot better in Deku’s body.

Bakugou zoned out a bit until they finally arrived at the medical wing and people started checking over him and Deku. 

A few people with healing quirks rushed over and helped him with his hand while Icy Hot talked to some of the others, explaining what happened.

Bakugou was more focused on the pain than what he was saying.  Not the pain from the broken bone as that was mostly healed.  But there was dull pain throughout different areas of his body. Or should he say Deku’s body?  It was...a bit distracting.

Bakugou glanced over to Deku, talking to the people with Icy Hot. Did he deal with this pain all the time?  Sure he got occasional pains in his wrists because of his explosions but it was nothing compared to this.

“Bakugou are you even paying attention,” Icy Hot called out, bringing him out of his stupor.

“What’s it to you Icy Hot,” Bakugou growled.

“Well if you were listening you would have found out some important information about the quirk you and Midoryia were hit with,” Icy Hot retorted.

“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t focus with how much pain Deku’s fucking body is in.”

Deku froze for a second as Icy Hot just sighed. “Well, you did break Midoryia’s hand.”

“I’m not talking about the shitty broken hand, I’m talking about the dull constant pain throughout Deku’s fucking body.”

Icy Hot glanced back at Deku confused.  “Midoryia, is this true?”

“It’s not too-”

“Deku I can barely focus with all this fucking pain.  Speaking of, Icy Hot, mind getting me some pain meds so I can fucking focus?”

“...Midoryia we’ll be talking about this about you and Bakugou are back in your own bodies,” Icy Hot sighed, grabbing some pain meds and a water bottle and tossing them at Bakugou.

“Take at least 3,” Deku said quietly, “I’ve needed more than 2 since middle school.” 

Bakugou nodded and took a swig of water before popping three of the pain meds in his mouth. 

“So what was the info we found out about this fucking quirk?”

Deku perked up at this.  He was always so interested in quirks. “Well from what we can tell so far it’s a high probability that we’ll either switch back after 72 hours or we’ll need to find the guys so we can switch back.  There’s already a team looking so we can hopefully switch back before we have to get back to classes.”

Bakugou scoffed at how Deku was muttering again.  God it was weird hearing that come brom his own body.  

If he was grateful for one thing, it’s that this didn’t happen while they were in class.  Dealing with all the shitty extras pestering them about them while they were in each other’s bodies would not have been fun.  While Icy Hot could be irritating, at least Bakugou knew he wasn’t going to ask them 20 million fucking questions like the extras that hung around him would.

“So what are we supposed to do until they find the shitty burglar.” 

“I believe Enji said you two who could just keep training, without your quirks of course, until we’re able to get you back to normal.”

Bakugou cursed under his breath. He wanted to be out there patrolling, but instead he was stuck here with shitty Deku, stuck in his shitty body, just sitting here doing nothing. At least until those shitty extras caught the shitty burglar that did this to him in the first place. Great, just fucking great. 

Bakugou growled and stormed to the gym.  He needed to beat the shit out of something so he didn’t blow up on someone. Sure he may not mean that literally right now, but that didn’t change the fact that he was pissed beyond belief.

Needless to say, Bakugou spent a lot of time in the training room after that.

Training was..strange.  Because of his quirk, he normally couldn’t hear as well anymore. It was strange being able to hear so well.

Especially when he heard footsteps from behind him. “Oh good you’re in here,” he heard Deku pant from behind here.

“What do you want Deku,” Bakugou growled, turning around.

Deku cocked his head, seemingly confused.  “I’m sorry Kacchan, can you repeat that again? I couldn’t hear you.”

Right, Deku was in his body now.  Meaning he was partially deaf until they switched back.

“I asked what you wanted,” Bakugou said louder and more clearly. 

“Oh right I forgot Kacchan can’t hear as well,” Deku muttered.

“Deku!”

Deku squeaked slightly. “Sorry, Kacchan! They sent me to let you know that they found the guy.”

Bakugou grinned slightly.  Thank goodness.  He was finally going to get out of the shitty nerd’s body.

“Well then what are you fucking waiting for? Let’s get back to our bodies.”

“R-right,” Deku agreed, leading Bakugou to the room the guy was being held.

Before Bakugou knew it, he was back in his own body.  Fucking finally. 

Time to go blow some stuff up to blow up steam.  ‘You still up for that spar Half and Half?”

[snakebites-22]

Castle

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

A/N: This was a request submitted by @dreamerinthesun​. Thank you so much for this request and sorry for taking so long to write it. I also changed one slight detail of what you asked for because I kind of forgot about it until after I wrote it so...yeah. Sorry. I hope you still like it tho lol. 

Warnings: some swearing, Minho being a shithead, mostly fluffy and platonic friendship between Minho and Reader, bullying Gally

Word Count: 1261

Pairings: Newt x Reader, platonic Minho and Reader 

Summary: Reader is a very sweet and seemingly innocent person who is somehow best friends with the least innocent person in the Glade. At a Gathering discussing various things the Gladers need, Newt and the others discover that maybe Y/n isn’t as sweet and innocent as they think. 

Sidenote: There are a few details that may confuse people who haven’t read the books. Sorry not sorry. Go read them. 

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

“Oh come on, Newt!” 

It was a pretty regular day in the glade. Newt, your boyfriend, had limped himself into the Med-Jack hut complaining of some headache or some klunk, just so that he could spend some time with you and distract you from the actually injured Gladers. 

The blond boy just chuckled as he kissed your cheek, an innocent grin plastered onto his face. He absolutely adored it whenever you got angry. He found it super cute considering your normal sweet demeanor. Everyone in the glade knew how much of a sweetheart you were. You were always kind to everyone and always made sure to take care of your patients with the gentleness of a mother, and you also never swore. It was a very big and innocent contrast compared to the rest of the glade. 

You huff at him as you untangle yourself from within his arms to try and go back to the task at hand: organizing the medical shelves. They definitely were more stocked than they usually were, but bandages and other supplies were needed. You sigh as you sort through all of the materials. 

“Oh hey, I brought these for you,” you heard a beautiful British accent say, clearly only just remembering whatever this was. 

You turn to look at Newt as he pulls out a bundle and hands it to you. As you unwrap the faded fabric, a wonderful smell floats up to your nose. Lavender, primrose, rosemary, poppy, sage, yarrow, goldenrod. Newt had brought you herbs from the Trackhoes medical garden. It was your idea to have that garden in the first place, and it warmed your heart seeing how well the plants were doing. 

“Thank you, angel,” you said happily as you started prepping the plants for drying. 

As you were tying up the stems by the window, Minho strolled in. You looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, expecting some mischief. Minho was your best friend in the glade. It was a surprise to everyone at how well you both got along considering you were seen as practically polar opposites. He was loud, mischievous, snarky. You were reserved, kind, polite. Yet, whenever you weren’t with Newt you were usually seen with Minho. And usually, that meant you were the common sense to his chaos.

“Minho you know my rule,” you stated as you turned back to tying up the plants. “No shenanigans when I’m doing my job.” The Keeper of the Runners rolled his eyes as he leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. 

“Shenanigans? Me? Never.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as Newt snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, sure.” 

A low chuckle could be heard from the dark haired boy. “Whatever you say, shank. Alby’s calling a Gathering. All the Keepers need to be there.” 

You bite back a groan of annoyance as you dust off your hands on your pants. You had been made Keeper of the Med-Jacks a couple months ago, and while it certainly had its perks, all the new responsibilities were kind of overwhelming. 

Newt nodded and stood up. He wasn’t a Keeper, but he was the Second-In-Command, so he still needed to attend. You took Newt’s hand before walking out of the room, Minho following behind the both of you. 

————————

You hated the Gathering Room. It was always hot and dusty and smelled like sweat and boredom. You were sitting in your place between Zart, Keeper of the Trackhoes, and Billy, Keeper of the Baggers. Minho was sitting in front of you. Newt and Alby were at the front of the room taking requests one by one from each of the Keepers of things that were needed. More nails for the Builders, more seeds for the Trackhoes, so on and so on and so on. 

You had already put in your request for more bandages and twine, so now you were just biding your time until you all were dismissed. Normally you’d be patient and listen intently to everyone’s needs, but today you really just wanted to leave. 

The sound of snickering grabbed your attention and pulled at it until you were focused on the source: Minho. Of course. 

You leaned forward until your head was practically over top of his shoulder before whispering, “What’s so funny?” 

Minho glanced at you with a familiar glint in his eye. This Gathering was about to get a lot more amusing. With a playful wink, the boy turned back around in his seat. He was focused on the front of the room. When you glanced up, you noticed Gally was standing near Alby and he was reciting various things he and his builders needed. Apparently, it was a lot more than just nails. You barely stifled a giggle as you watched Newt yawn from behind his hand. 

“We also need more rope. Alex used the last of it two days ago. And another thing-”

“Don’t forget to get yourself some more tweezers for your eyebrows, Captain Gally.”

You gasped out a laugh before clapping a hand over your mouth. Gally turned around and shot a glare at a smirking Minho. You weren’t the only one who had laughed. Newt was barely suppressing his laughs as his shoulders shook, and the ever so stoic Alby had a hint of a grin on his face. 

“Slim it, Minho,” Alby stated calmly. “Or you’ll be spending some time in the Slammer.” Minho let out a dramatic whine as he slumped in his seat. 

“Oh, come on Alby. I’m just saying the man needs his tweezers. He’s gonna have a unibrow soon if we don’t do something.” There were many more sounds of the other Keepers holding back chuckles and sounds of laughter as Gally’s glare hardened. You were giggling behind your hand.

“Minho if you have nothing serious to ask for then you can spend the rest of this meeting out in the Slammer,” Alby said seriously, but the light in his eyes betrayed his amusement. 

“Fine fine fine,” Minho said with a loud sigh. “Let’s see, I need some more trainers, notepads, some of those Runner undies you know what I’m talking about, hair gel-”

“Why are you like this?” Alby interrupted with a tired look. Minho just grinned in response as the other Keepers laughed and elbowed one another. 

“You may want hair gel, but bitch I want a castle.”  

You have never heard a room go quiet so fast as all eyes turned to you. The grin slid from your face as quickly as it had arrived as you glanced over everyone’s shocked faces. 

“Since when did you swear?” Winston questioned as he turned to look at you with interest. 

“Shit, Y/n. You never swore around these slintheads?” Minho asked as he looked back at you with delight. You only shrugged in response. 

“Wait hold on. Wait a bloody moment,” Newt said as he held his hands up for attention. “What do you mean ‘never swore’ around us?”

Minho let out a loud barking laugh as he looked around at everyone. “Y/n has the damn mouth of a sailor, is what I mean.” All eyes turned to you as you grinned sheepishly. 

“Well...he isn’t wrong. You’re all just fucking oblivious.” 

The rest of the day was spent ignoring the need to put in requests as everyone questioned you, wondering why they had all believed the idea that you were all goody goody and innocent when you were really just as rough as the rest of them. Also, where the klunk did the castle thing come from??

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

Thank you for reading!! As always, reach out to me if you would like to be added or taken out of my taglists! 

Tagging: @soft-petey @tommysparker @lekirra018 @stixnstripesworld @orowit @dreamerinthesun

[loser-writings]

Nsfw-ish(?) Headcanons for Shinsou, Kami and whoever, I don't really mind, accidentally getting a handful/facefull of their not yet s/os butt/chest? Or is that too nsfw? Sorry! I'm kinda also testing the waters for what you're okay with writing ^^;.

Hey you’re good! Sorry this one took so damn long. School is really kicking my ass right now, so I was only able to write for Denki. I hope thats okay! Also this did end up being sort of crackhead like ft. Daydrinking Present Mic. Oh and the “Denki has ADHD” headcanon is top tier. Enjoy.

Denki had seemed to be struggling more than usual today. He couldn’t stay on a topic, was so easily distracted, and seemed to be more unorganized than usual. It was clearly pissing off Bakugo, even though everyone knew Denki had ADHD, he still was getting annoyed. 

Nobody was going to mention it to Denki, but a plan was quickly made that morning when he seemed to be a bit more scatterbrained. Mina had made sure to stay with Denki after class to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Bakugo made sure that his notes seemed to be a bit more colorful and organized than usual to help Denki with more of a visual learning style, Kirishima would hold Denki’s hand or give him something to help with his focus like drawing or twirling a pencil, and Sero even made sure to keep Denki’s mood up when he started his self-deprecating humor. 

You had decided to help out by covering lunch for him since everybody knew his impulsive ass would attempt to buy half of the food there. You had even bought him some coffee since he had admitted to you that he drinks almost a pot a day to help him focus. 

When you sat beside the blond, he smiled and instantly turned his attention to you. “Oh shit! You got me coffee?” You nodded and handed it to him. “Thanks, Babe!” he chirped and sat it beside the tray you sat in front of him. You were used to his playful flirting, so you just ruffled his hair before sitting down yourself. “No problem, Pika. I wanted to help you in any way I could.” He smiled a little at you and moved to take your hand in his, lacing your fingers with his before he turned to focus on Bakugo and Kiri arguing a bit.

You ate with your free hand and listened to the argument, but you were watching Denki out of the corner of your eye. His leg bounce, his hand that held yours would constantly adjust its grip, and he was a bit more fidgety in his seat. You sighed softly and moved to face the man, smiling sweetly. “You forget your meds today?”

He nervously laughed and looked down. “Is it that obvious?” You nodded honestly and moved to take his hand in both of your own. “Do you know where it is?” He nodded. “Yeah, It’s on my desk. I just forgot to grab it this morning. I overslept, went ‘ah fuck, Ima be late’ and didn’t even think about it.” You hummed and watched as he turned to face you fully. “I promise I’ll take it tomorrow. I just forgot.” You nodded and moved to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I know. Why don’t you carry it in your bag, or leave some with Recovery girl so you always have it here too?” His pink cheeks and smile made your heart skip. “That’s smart. I should do that, huh?” You grinned and moved to ruffle his hair again as a way of saying yes. 

How were you guys supposed to know that Mineta had just pissed off Present Mic? You heard yelling and turned to face the noise, only to see Mineta running away from the loud man. “Damn I didn’t know Mic was that slow.” Kirishima snorted and you squeezed Denki’s hand. “You’re funny.” As they came closer, you were going to stand when Mineta tripped, spilling the red contents inside of his cup all over you. Everyone stood and watched as Mic grabbed the Grape before scattering to find paper towels to dry you off. He looked at you before sighing. “I’m so sorry. Go change. Soak the shirt in cold water before you wash it. It gets wine out easily.”

As he walked away, you sighed before seeing Denki running to you, hand full of clumped paper towels. You held the we shirt away from you, about to say something until he pressed the towels against your chest, trying to soak up some of the mess. “Did he say what this was?!” Your cheeks were almost as red as the stain, taking a step back before taking the towels from him. “Red Wine. I guess Mineta found his stash.” You moved to dry the shirt off more as he frowned a bit. “Shit, babe. Lets go get you a new shirt.” he wrapped an arm around you before leading you out of the cafeteria. 

As he was walking, arm around your waist, he realized that moments ago he was grabbing your chest. “I’m...So sorry I didn’t even realize that I was grabbing you a second ago. I just saw the stain and went ‘I have a towel, and that’s wet’ before putting the two together.” He was clearly worried about upsetting you, but you just chuckled. “Pika, I knew you weren’t being a perv. You were trying to be helpful and I appreciate it.” He whined dramatically before pulling his arm away to hold your hand. “But it was wrong and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfy.” “Babe, You didn’t make me uncomfy. You’re fine.” 

You tried to change the topic multiple times, but he seemed to fixate on the fact he had grabbed you. Once you got outside of the dorms, you turned to cup his cheeks. “Baby, listen to me. You did nothing wrong, and I promise that you are okay.” He pouted and was about to speak but you quickly pecked his lips. “Be quiet. I gotta change. Then we go finish eating.” He nodded and started to smile a little. “Okay...but can I get a few more of those?” You laughed as you walked in. “Maybe! Let me think about it!”

[chaptersinprogress]

demolition lovers  |  4

"P'King!"

Sighing, he closed his eyes and sent the heavens a quick prayer for patience. Speak of the devil.

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

Pairings: Ram/King; Bohn/Duen

King frowned as he checked his watch. What was taking Bohn so long? Surely the meeting with the professors hadn't run that late. He sighed and shot Mek a text.

K: I'm at the Gear Statue. Where are you guys? Is the case still being discussed?

M: Still outside the Dean's office. They're taking longer than expected. Might be more serious than we thought.

K: Damn. Still can't believe it was the archi department the nongs brawled with. We've always had a decent relationship with them.

M: Yeah. But don't worry, we haven't seen any sign of the med kid yet. We'll make sure Bohn doesn't run into him.

K: Thanks. Sorry for taking up your afternoon.

M: Bohn's our friend, it's nothing.

King pocketed his phone with a smile. Mek and Boss were far too good to them. He swung his bag onto his shoulder as he got up. He'd better go find the Year 1s now, or he'd be late for their tutoring session.

"P'King!"

Sighing, he closed his eyes and sent the heavens a quick prayer for patience. Speak of the devil. Opening his eyes, he found Duen standing in front of him, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"N'Duen," he said coldly.

Duen flinched slightly at his tone. "Ah, sorry to trouble you, P'King. Do you mind helping me pass this to P'Bohn? I didn't manage to find him this morning to pass them to him myself."

"Don't worry, you can consider the deal over. You needn't bother."

"But I want to," Duen replied slightly desperately. "I have to make it up for hurting him."

King let his eyes fall to the bouquet Duen clutched. Purple hyacinths were interspersed with daffodils, all enclosed within a ring of fresh snowdrops. He mentally catalogued the flowers - forgiveness, new beginnings, hope.

"And why should I pass this to Bohn?" he asked. "What are you expecting, N'Duen?"

"I...I..." began Duen, stammering. He took a deep breath. "I wish to court P'Bohn!"

King raised his eyebrows. "Oh? But I thought you found his attention... troublesome."

Duen flushed. "I didn't mean it that way! It's just... P'Bohn can be kind of forceful. And there are a lot of people who aren't happy about his attention being on me, so...um... they take it out on me. It's a bit scary sometimes," he admitted.

King felt himself soften slightly. He'd grown up with Bohn and knew first-hand just how aggressive he could get when he wanted something. That and people could get very ugly sometimes, especially when it came to matters of the heart. 

No wonder the kid had reacted so strongly. The stress of being pushed around by Bohn and the others had slowly built until he'd finally exploded. Bohn had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"But are you willing to deal with this?" King pressed. "There will probably be many times in the future that situations like this occur again. Who's to say that you won't react the way you did again? I don't want to watch my best friend get hurt."

Duen considered the question carefully. "P'King, I cannot guarantee you that I will never hurt P'Bohn again. We are both human, and we will end up making mistakes, some of which will hurt each other."

"But I can promise you that I've had the week to think about this,” he continued. “And I'm sure that P'Bohn is worth the effort. The future may be uncertain, but I'm willing to apologise for the mistakes I've made and will end up making. And if P'Bohn will have me, I hope to stay by his side for a long time."

King searched Duen's face for the slightest hint of insincerity, finding none. And the fact was, the type of relationship Duen and Bohn had was between the two of them. He had no right to determine it. Caving, he took the bouquet.

"Fine. I'll help you pass this to Bohn. But- !" he said as a smile spread across Duen's face. "First you'll need to convince Bohn to accept you on your own. Then you'll have to convince me that you're a good match for him."

Duen nodded frantically. "Yes, P'King! Thank you for giving me a chance!"

King sighed, already beginning to regret the decision. "Alright, alright. Scram," he said, walking off to find the Year 1s.

"P'King, over here!" shouted Phu.

King raised his hand in acknowledgement and strode over to the group of Years 1s huddled together at a bench in the Engineering Faculty's garden.

"Hello nongs, I've heard that you need some help. Your midterms coming up?" he asked, leaning against the side of the table.

Phu nodded frantically. "Yes Phi, but we're all lost when it comes to indeterminate forms of limits and L'Hospital's rule."

"Ah. Yeah, it can be a bit tricky to wrap your head around at first. Let me see, we can work through an example together."

King spent the next ten minutes explaining the concepts, first to the entire group, then tailoring the explanation to suit the individuals who still couldn't fully grasp it. When he had satisfactorily cleared the theoretical doubts, he assigned the group a set of questions from the textbook to try applying what they had learnt.

After giving them five minutes to attempt the questions on their own, he began walking around, checking their work and offering corrections and guidance to those who needed it. As he pointed out a mistake to one of the students, he heard Phu call out.

"Ram! I saved you a seat. Hurry up, P'King has already started tutoring!"

King felt his heart rate pick up. What were the chances that this was some other 1st year engineering student also named Ram?

He felt more than saw someone settle down opposite the student he was helping. King's palms grew sweaty. Still torn between wanting to know and remaining ignorant of who exactly had joined them, he forced himself to focus on the worksheet.

When he finished pointing out the errors and could delay no further, he slowly straightened up. His eyes dragged across the books stacked on the table to muscular forearms encased in a crisp white shirt, travelling along the length of a slim black tie, before arriving at a familiar face.

King swallowed heavily as Ram looked up at him, expression carefully blank.

"Ah P'King, do you mind explaining the concepts again to Ram?" asked Phu. "Sorry he's late, I forgot to mention to you that he had a prior commitment."

King hastily turned to face Phu, grateful for the opportunity to look away. "No worries, Nong. I'll be right there."

He made his way over to Ram at snail-pace, desperately trying to prolong the time it took to reach his ill-fated crush. His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst right out of his chest.

Finally reaching Ram's shoulder, King took a deep breath before speaking. "So, um, do you have any particular questions or do you want me to start from the top?"

Ram nodded sharply. King waited for Ram to clarify which of the two he was referring to but received no answer.

"You do understand Thai, right?" he asked carefully.

Ram gave another jerky nod. When no further reply came, King ran a hand through his hair. "From the top then, I assume. Turn your textbook to the chapter on indefinite limits, we'll start from there."

He muddled his way through the explanations, relying on Ram's nods and head shakes to gauge his understanding. Assigning Ram a couple of questions, he stepped back and took a few moments to collect himself.

Shit. Having to tutor his crush was pure torture. He had been hyper-aware of himself the entire time - every breath, every tiny motion he made, and even the volume of his voice. The stress of having to be near Ram was going to be the death of him.

"P'King," Phu called. "Ram's having difficulty with this question."

Pulling himself together, King braced a hand on the table and leaned over Ram's shoulder to study the problem. As he did so, he caught a whiff of Ram's cologne - a heady blend of musk, wood and leather. The scent hung seductively in the air.

King inhaled deeply, subtly trying to fill his lungs with it. Too distracted by the smell to concentrate on anything else, he stared at the paper blankly, not processing a single word.

Ram turned his head slightly to stare at his suddenly all-too-quiet senior. The movement caused his nose to lightly brush against King's cheek. The touch burnt like the white heat of a comet trail and yanked the senior back to the present.

King jerked away like he'd been stung.

"I...er...I forgot about a meeting. Gotta go now," he stammered, grabbing his bag and the bouquet from Duen off the bench. "N'Phu, send me a photo of the question. I'll get back to you later," he said before promptly fleeing, leaving the 1st year students staring after him in confusion.

Bohn stroked a smooth petal delicately. "What did you say the flowers meant again?"

"Forgiveness, new beginnings and hope," came King's muffled voice from where he'd buried his face in the mound of pillows littering Bohn's bed.

Bohn hid the smile that had slowly begun to spread across his face in the bouquet. "King, he went through the trouble of making an apology bouquet."

"Yay... lucky you..."

Bohn shot his friend a glare. "What's your problem? You've been like that for half an hour already."

"Don't remind me," King moaned, attempting to smother himself with the pillows. "Or better yet, just kill me now."

"You have five seconds to start talking before I come over there and make you talk," Bohn threatened. "Five. Four. Thre-"

King threw a pillow at him without looking. It bounced off the edge of the couch, nowhere near Bohn. Grabbing it, Bohn chucked it back at King, and unlike his friend, nailed him right in the head.

"Ow! Alright! He was part of the group I had to tutor today and then I went and fucked it all up with my stupid crush, happy?!"

"What did y- "

Bohn's phone pinged. Deciding to drop the subject for the moment, Bohn reached over and picked it up. Reading the message, he whooped and jumped on top of King.

"He asked me out! King, Duen asked me out!"

King lifted his head up with a groan and wheezed, "He did what now?"

"He asked me out!" yelled Bohn into his ear. "Our usual bar, tomorrow night at 9!"

"Ok, ok, I heard you now get off me," King pleaded, gasping for breath.

Bohn promptly rolled off him and moved to text Duen. King put an immediate stop to that by grabbing Bohn's arm.

"Wait, are you sure you want to accept? This is the same guy who rejected you a week ago that we're talking about."

Bohn raised an imperious eyebrow. "Of course I'm sure. I always get what I want."

King sighed and let Bohn get back to texting Duen. He pulled out his own phone. Like hell was he letting Bohn walk into this on his own.

K: Our resident idiot has decided to accept that kid's request for a date tomorrow

P: You serious? The same one he was avoiding at the fundraiser?

K: Yeah. A bouquet of flowers is all it took for that resolve to collapse like a house of cards.

P: What's the plan?

K: I'm gonna go with. No way in hell am I going to leave them alone till I'm sure of his intentions.

P: Text me the address and time, I'll be there

K: No way. You have your hazing trip the next morning. Are you not planning to sleep? You're not coming.

P: You're not my dad. And that's my problem. Besides, Bohn's given you the slip plenty of times. As long as he doesn't know I'm there, we can keep an eye on him.

K: Fine. The usual bar, 9pm. I'll let you know if there's a change of plans.

P: Got it

[unikornu]

Page 8, Taking Care

Lizzie decided to visit the Overboss personally with the fixed pipboy and her short manual when she heard the duo just dealt with gunners on the nearby bridge last night. Beside Mags was still advising her to leave the lab from time to time to breathe some fresh air instead of chemicals. She strolled towards the Fizztop humming under nose and ignoring the disciples whispering behind her back and took the elevator from the lower entrance. Meeting with Porter first seemed more in a respect before disturbing the Boss lady but before she took a step out of elevator an echo of very strange noises hit her ear. She followed it curiously all the way to the patio door and stopped, leaning with her ear towards it.

- Oh, just fucking shove it in me, Gage! It won’t hurt any more than it already does. The Lucy’s angry voice was heard from inside the room as well as raider.

- Shit, are you sure Boss? You sure you can take it? It’s big. Gage voice seemed filled with hesitation and worry.

- Oh my. Lizzie couldn’t stop from smirking at least but realized shortly it wasn’t what it was.

- Oh its just one needle and i won’t move much until you pump some med-x in that cracked back of mine so just fucking do it, please? Lucy was sitting on a bed curled up with her back exposed, awaiting for Gage to finish the injection, covering her chest with a pillow, pushing it and shoving nails in it as the needle met her skin.

Gage was surprised by her decision, not wanting to take a break and just dealing the way she does with her current condition. And he would not dare to ruin or leave some nasty mark on that smooth back of hers.

- All done, Boss but you still should rest a bit. Safari doesn’t sound like a place that will just let us stroll there. He said right after finishing the injection, turning around and taking a sit at the bar to let her dress up.

- Bullshit, we will make it a stroll then. She pulled her hair from under the top and joined him at the bar shortly, slowly stretching her hands upwards and to the sides.

-Ekhem, Boss, Gage? Lizzie knocked as her head was already popping out of the door.

- Oh, come on in. Lucy pointed towards the chair to join them at the bar. - You got something for me?

- Oh i do, your pipboy with quite an interesting upgrade as you asked. Lizzie sat between them and put the pipboy on the counter.

- And how safe is that update? No offence but you tend to have some crazy ideas at times. Gage muttered under his nose while eyeballing the device.

- Oh very crazy. Lizzie smiled at him when opening the back panel and wiggling the cable with a shark metallic tip in her hand. - Sadly it doesn’t work on humans, maybe just the ones with metallic parts. Lucy tried not to chuckle, covering the mouth with her hand, grinning.

- Very fucking funny, now what does it do? Gage shook his head at them.

- Its simple, you shove that into any robot or computer device that has access and it might give you some control over these. But with robots you have to be very close to them and their sockets from what i saw usually were put in back of their heads. Lizzie stretched the cable which was indeed pretty short and handed the pipboy to Lucy.

- Sounds simple and useful. Does it come with....

- Manual yes, Boss. Lizzie interrupted and handed her a bunch of dusty old papers with instructions and eventual repair methods written by herself. She even included some drawings.

- You need a manual, Boss? Gage raised his eyebrow at her in a surprise.

- Well, yes. Not everyone is a bold egghead setting up weird ass shit around. She raised her eyebrow as well and squinted an eye at him in response. - Beside they trained me to kill shit, not to sit at the lab or whatever.

- Alright, alright, no offence, Boss.

- None taken. Gage looked away as her face softened.

- Alright i will leave you two. If you need anything Boss you know where to find me. Lizzie nodded at them and walked towards the elevator. - Ah, Boss i almost forgot, William has been asking when you visit us again at Parlor.

- Visit? For what? Lucy stood up from the chair and walked towards the elevator to catch Lizzie response as she has been slowly lifted down.

- Dinner i guess. Lizzie smirked at her from the bottom and left in a hurry to the safety of her lab as the elevator hit the bottom. Gage heard it but decided to leave that without any comment.

-Damn...Lucy whispered. Its been a while since someone mentioned a dinner and it wasn’t involving killing someone.

----------

As the duo started gathering their gear and preparing to leave a signal appeared on her pipboy.

- What do they want now....oh. Lucy have read the message and grabbed the Lizzie’s manual from the counter, scanning it carefully as the beam of holographic light hit it.

- What are you doing, Boss? Gage looked from behind his shoulder as he was leaning at the desk checking on his rifle.

- Just an exchange with the fellow ground scientists. Is there a...janitor closet in this building? She turned to him as the scanning finished.

- A what? You mean like a small room filled with some rusty old buckets and shit know what else? Gage didn’t hide his confusion on the question but guided her to the kitchen and pointed at the door what rusty broken panel probably mentioning a name of a guy who worked there before.

Lucy opened a door and dodged the avalanche of brooms and sticks falling as she opened the door. The dust and stench coming out of it made them both cough heavily.

- What the fuck did you keep there, fuck, the smell. Lucy turned and walked away few steps.

- Well..the janitor and then some bodies that i forgot about. Gage stepped forward and threw away all the sticks along with some bones making some space in the middle.

- Unbelievable. Lucy only shook head at him wrinkling her forehead and pulling the small metallic circle with a red button on top of it out of her pocket.

-Let’s see, they said the signal is the best there for some fucking reason. She crouched and put it on the floor, pushing the button and moving away. Gage stood next to her crossing his arms and awaiting in doubt.

- Any moment now, Boss eh? He commented as nothing seemed to be happening.

- Ah shut up.  

As few more seconds passed the white light surrounded the room so bright it almost blinded them. They bent away and turned back as it disappeared. On the floor was lying something that looked like a grey metallic like suit but more shiny and smooth in its structure as well as more bendy in a touch as Lucy kneeled over it and took it in her hands with ease.

- How in the fucking hell they do that? I should be happy then ain’t sent a synth on us yet. Gage muttered under his nose. Seeing what just happened didn’t add to the safety that was barely existing in the back of his head.

- Some kind of signal...allowing them to teleport me the stuff away from marked regular pick up points. She felt a strong vibe of distrust from him as she stepped out of the closet holding the suit in her hands. - Look, Gage, i don’t trust them either but the deal is useful and they kept their word so far. They don’t give a shit what we do as long as they get some scraps of data from us. She sighted and pulled a hand towards his arm for reassurance but he turned away before that.

- We will see Boss, let’s just get back to work.  

-------

The sun was hanging high beside the clouds and hitting the Lucy’s suit making it shine even brighter in its almost silk-metal like structure as they strolled towards their next target - safari adventure park. Gage mood slightly improved as it was hard not to look at her in that tight armor like set-up wondering how sharp are the claws attached to her hands and feet of it.

- I think they made it resemble a cat like creature...Lucy pondered while brushing the claws on her hand with a fingers.

- Oh..they certainly did but better hide this from Mason’s view. Gage hid his grin.

- Also...can i ask you something, Boss?

- Sure, ask. She stopped as they almost arrived at the entrance and nothing seemed to be endangering their little chat.

- I know that taking the parks and dealing with our shit is important, mostly to me but you seem to be barely stopping at it. He looked down at her.

- What, you worried or something, that i overwork myself? Oh how cute of you. She placed her hands on the hips, looking back up at him.

- Errr no....no shit, just i didn’t see anyone pushing and going on so much in this shithole. Its...well fucking surprising of you. He shrugged in response.

- I’m scared of boredom Gage. I always preferred to keep myself....well occupied on one task or another and you don’t seem to be running out of them. She didn’t lie although she kept her secret about having some kind of hallucinations as well as dealing with stress after every task and trying not to shove herself with calmex over and over. Running with Gage and dealing with their current problems seemed to be a good distraction as well as it was fitting with the nature of her lifestyle and Porter was indeed a good companion for this run.

- So, shall we? She nodded towards the park, inpatient.

- Yeah. Gage stretched his shoulders and neck and followed.

---------

The safari park was overgrown by dried trees and bushes, scattered densely around, vines climbing around the walls and gates. The huge tree was hard to miss, standing tall and strong in the middle of it. The sounds and ambience of jungle was still heard through a hidden speakers around the park making it feel quite peaceful and welcoming for a stroll around.

- What’s the worst that can happen here? A gazelle hitting us in a teeth with a hoof? Lucy looked around as they passed the entrance but Gage was always alert and on his toes.

- We didn’t explore this one yet so fuck knows what or who could be here. Raider turned himself to a heavy stomps he could hear along the chirps and howls that were coming from a corner behind the walls and bushes. Lucy stepped silently behind him with her knife ready.  As Gage looked from behind the corner he froze, his eyes widening in a surprise but turning fast into the worry as the beast silhouette in front spotted him, its yellow eye turning abruptly towards him as it stretched itself from a scavenger corpse and slashed its claws at the raider’s face.

-Shit! Run! He turned around abruptly and pulled her after him as the gator like creature of a deathclaw size jumped after them. When she took a glimpse on what was chasing them she was only glad to have her current suit, allowing her to pick up a speed with much less effort and keeping up with Gage as they passed the labyrinth of tunnels and cages, eventually ramming into the first building door they saw and falling down the stairs.

- What the fuck is this? She swore, still keeping her voice low till the heavy steps moved on, away from the door.

- Hell if i know. Looks like a mutated lizard...alligator of sort, fucking oversized too. Gage pulled himself up from the floor, covering his ruined eye as the gator reached his patch when it slashed its hand at him, breaking its strap in a process.

- Shit, are you okay? Lucy swept the dust off her as she stood up and walked up to him, eyeballing his face. - Let me see.

- You don’t want to see that Boss, believe me. Gage hesitated and tried to turn away but she was following him around, not giving up.

- Oh ye? Try me and stop that crap. She slapped his hand away from his face and took a good look at it, checking for any damage or cuts not showing any kind of expression or disgust not noticing that she put her both hands on the sides of his face in the process pulling him downwards to her.

- Any closer Boss and it will be fucking awkward. Gage kept looking away but let himself be checked.

- You can make it awkward if you want so much. She joked and smirked taking the hands off him. - Nothing serious but you will have to endure going without your patch for this round.

- Well, yeah. He sighted and stuffed his broken patch in the pocket.

- Don’t worry, i don’t mind the view. She brushed his shoulder and looked around to check where exactly they landed in a rush of chase.

------

The building was having walls made of metallic bars on its sides and the only light that was there was the one hitting the place from cracks and holes in a roof making it all look dusty in the air in its beams. As they were walking slowly around suddenly they spotted a few pairs of eyes shining from the dark corner behind the cage bars. Gage raised his rifle towards them.

- Uhm...lady? The low voice came from behind their backs. As they turned around a tall massive man was standing, with a darker skin and overgrown black beard welding a big hammer in his hands and looking down at them, tilting his head to the sides like a curious dog.

- Err....who are you? Lucy asked as she noticed he wasn’t about to attack them and hit the Gage’s arm with an elbow to lower his gun.

- Me? Cito. This place my home and family. He pointed towards the corner where they saw the eyes before. A group of black-grey furry gorillas walked out and looked at them, scratching their heads and making sounds in a manner of a talk between them.  

- You, not enemy, yes? Not hurt us? Lucy nodded at him in confusion of the language he was using and the whole meeting. Gage wasn’t confused any less. - I think he’s been here a while, maybe he knows something about these gators. He proposed.

- Gat-ors? Big green beasts, Cito knows, Cito fights, every day. Lady help? The man walked away and picked up something that looked like a holotape, chewed on edges but still in a working condition. - Long ago, beasts attacked and man died. Left this, Cito not know. Cito cannot eat. Cito try. He handed the holotape to Lucy. She took it with a tip of her fingers.

- Yes, this is not food. Thank you, Cito. As she played the holotape the voice of a dying old man explained the problems that happened in a cloning facility that is apparently hidden beneath the park, releasing the uncontrollable amounts of mutated gatorclaws that made their way to the surface.

- Shit, that doesn’t sound good. I don’t think we can even take them all down, Boss. Hell knows how many of them is here. Gage voice sounded disappointed on a thought they might not be able to take that park.

- We could sneak all the way there to just turn off the device. Lucy was pondering on a plan to keep them forward instead of giving up.

- And then? If we actually manage to get that far.

- We tell Mason to bring his pack and help us clean what will remain. She proposed.

- And why do you think he will agree to that? Gage raised his eyebrow at the idea.

- If you tell him how he could actually stretch his muscles proudly to be a part of taking Nuka World it would probably make others look a bit weaker in that manner, maybe even jealous a bit. Doesn’t he like to show off after all? Her idea did have some sense in it and just two of them going against park stuffed with gators would cost them hell of a bullets and sweat at the current moment.

- Alright, Boss, i will try talk to him but even sneaking seems tricky in here. You cant hear and see much shit out there in these goddamn maze of bushes. Gage brushed his chin thinking on some approach.

-Cito help! The man cheered sensing the duo wants to put the beasts problem to an end.

- Huh...how you wanna help? With a distraction, maybe? Lucy looked up at him.

- Yes. Di-stra-ction. Cito lure and run. Lady go to fa-ci-lity. Stop beasts. He looked more than eager to put that tactic to use.

- Let’s give it a try since he volunteers. What do you think, Gage? Lucy turned her amber eyes to him, hoping for the positive answer.

- Shiet, fine. Let’s try but be fucking careful. They nodded at each other and let the Cito out first to lure the gators away from their path.      

------

The plan seemed to work as the way to the main building was clear. They moved swiftly, ducking low towards it and closed the door silently behind them.

- Fuck. Gage swore lowly noticing one beast lurking at the lower lever between desks.

- It didn’t see us, let me try handle it. We don’t want to make much noise. Lucy decided to put her suit to good use, crouching low and stepping to the edge waiting for a right moment to take a leap downwards. Gage was right behind, ready to assist if needed. She jumped down holding the knife in her both hands, shoving it forcefully in the gator head and dodging its claws waving around in anger before it dropped to the floor.

- If every one of them would be that easy we wouldn’t need any more support. She jumped gracefully to the floor, suit keeping her reflexes on point.

- I wish they would be on our side, imagine having these instead of Mason dogs. He looked over the dead gator body almost impressed.

- Lizard lover ain’t ya? She chuckled and looked around, spotting a panel on a door that looked surprisingly undamaged and sturdier than others.  

- Well, shit. We need password. Gage joined her as he finished gazing at the beast.

- Maybe...not. She pulled the wire Lizzie was talking about before and brushed the thick layer of dusk from a small crack at the panel, shoving it inside and checking her pipboy screen. - Please, fucking work. She tapped some buttons and smiled as the sparks started flowing from under the tip of it and the familiar click was heard. She placed the hand on the door handle and pushed it slowly to make sure nothing awaits them on the other side.

- Good shit. Gage commented positively.

- Indeed. Have more faith in that operator of yours. Lucy peeked inside and looked down the stairs. - I think we are on a right track. It goes only down from there.

As they finally reached the last step of stairs the lab seemed to be streching under the whole park. It had many rooms and cages scattered around, which they assumed were for animals there were experimenting on back then. The place looked abandonded and their residents probably died or got eaten long time ago. They scoured carefully going deeper and deeper into the facility, eyeballing for something that would resamble a control panel that would stop the process of cloning the mighty scaley beasts. The water was flowing out and filling slowly the last room they approached. The creatures trapped here in an attempt of escape ripped the canalization pipe and got their way out through there, slowly flooding the place in a process but the computer that was in their sight seemed to be still functional and above the water level. As they walked deeper Lucy noticed the water is almost at their waist level, making eventual running more difficult.

- Wait Gage, i will jump on some furniture and rubble to that console and turn it off, the water is too deep in here to just walk like that. Keep an eye around. Gage nodded as Lucy climbed on the nearby desk and jumped onward on whatever was above the water towards the terminal. Gage eyeballed the surface for any suspicious movements.

Lucy looked over the terminal structure and used the same wire to get herself into the data and scour it for cloning process but right when she finished the humidity and remaining water in the socket caused a small outburst and woke up something that was lying beneath the water all that time. Another gator but this time its scales lacking the green shade of the basic ones and a smarter look in its eyes was only worrying her more as it stretched itself to stand straight, water sliding downwards from its shiny grey skin.

- Get out of there Boss! Gage didn’t hesitate to finally unload his rifle’s magazine to cover her as she tried to make her way back to him aiming at the eyes of the creature. She was again lunging and jumping at furniture and structures that remained above water, her suit allowing her to reach further and faster. The gator spotted it and grabbed a solid wide metallic heavy locker nearby, throwing it at the entrance where Gage was hiding behind, cutting her way out to him.

-Shit, get out of here Gage, now! She shouted and looked around the room as the desk she was standing on was the only object remaining.

- Fuck! Gage tried to kick down the locker away but to no success.

- Just go, i will get out through that canalization pipe! Gage eventually listened and ran back up, hoping to find where the pipe exit leads.

-Shit. Lucy looked at the beast turning to her and then at the cracked pipe. She reminded herself about the burst from her wire and slowly checked for a pulse grenade that was luckily attached to her waist along with smoke one. As the gator launched at her she made the long jump towards the opening throwing behind her the smoke grenade, gaining some seconds to run through the water and inside the pipe as the beast lost the sight of her in the thick smoke that rose above the water as the grenade cracked in the air. She clenched herself with the claws to the sides of a pipe as it started leading upwards and hearing the gator cracking the structure, following her behind. Lucy finally reached the exit in a hurry which lead to one of swimming pools for the alligators in the reptile house. Gasping rapidly she ran out of the waters reach and threw a pulse grenade in the pipe opening as the beast crawled up. Gage burst inside the building and help her finish the business as the creature landed inside the pool stunned in pain of the electric shocks as the grenade released its impact. He unloaded his rifle at its head until it no longer moved, making the pool red from amount of blood.

- Damn, Boss, you okay? He caught his breath as he ran all the way to find her. She nodded at him, holding her hands on the knees as she was leaning downwards to catch a breather as well.  

- Did you meet Cito on your way by any chance? She asked as she straightened herself up slowly.

- Yeah, i told him we dealt with that cloning shit. What are we gonna do with him when Mason comes here to clean the rest?

- Well, he helped us after all and willingly so just tell Mason not shoot him when we come later. Hell, he might even fit in his gang, don’t you think? He doesn’t seem to care what raiders are anyway.  

- Alright Boss. Gage agreed and peeked slowly out of the door. - Let’s get the hell out of here and deliver the news.

- Don’t forget the flag on our way out.

------

As they arrived to Fizztop for a short break Gage almost forgot he doesn’t have his eyepatch on as he was brushing the barrel of his rifle, leaning on a chair, a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. He patted the pocket of his pants to find it empty.

- What the hell. He stood up and started looking around, wondering if he dropped it somewhere. He didn’t see Lucy since they came back as she closed herself at the patio but decided to ask her anyway.

- Hey, Boss, did you see my freaking patch somewhere?

As he entered the patio she was leaning at the bar with her back to him, concentrated deeply on something as she didn’t respond.

- Boss? He approached her and as was about to shake her shoulder she turned around with his patch, fixed, in her hands. He noticed the tools scattered around and then turned his eye to her.

- I fixed it for you. That little chain seemed already a bit rusty so i also exchanged it with the other one i found around. Not that i don’t like you without it but it seems important to you so...there you go. She smiled at him noticing his lack of words and surprise in his eye as she handed it to him.

-Uhm... you didn’t have to, i could have done it myself but...well, shit, thanks Boss. He wasn’t used to this kind of acts so the thank you word also came with a bit of struggle but she deserved it as the patch was back on its place, completing the raiders cyclops look.

- Don’t mention it. Lucy stood up and threw a black jacket around her shoulders.

- I guess i will be off to Parlor to that dinner unless....

- Unless? Gage asked as she stopped in the middle of her way towards the door.

- Unless you have some better plans to offer for the evening. She waited for his response, curling the strand of her blond hair in the finger.

He wasn’t very fond of William and his fanciness but it wasn’t his business what and who she was meeting in her free time but for some reason the words just slipped out of mouth uncontrollably.

- How about a couple of beers at the cafe? Me and you, Boss?      

[lonelyheartsclubhaze]

We Sold Our Souls to Instagram

September 2020 // Chapter 2

“No, I’m not going to pick you up.” I shook my head, visibly and audibly annoyed. “You know damn well that I’m not getting behind the wheel. I’m hanging up, sorry.”

Converting potential energy into kinetic, the iPhone X left my hand, skimming across the wave-front of my bed. My hands ruffled through my hair as I inhaled then sighed, absentmindedly channelling the virtues of cellular respiration.

Tired of this perpetual bullshit, my fingers slithered across the Ikea desk before me, eventually detecting the apple of my bedroom’s Eden: a lychee ice Puff Bar. My fingers honed in on the device, ensnaring it, raising it to my lips. A deep breath saved me from the agony of sobriety, the nicotine buzz lasting a moment. Then, it was lost.

Six soft, knuckled knocks rapped at the bedroom door. “It’s unlocked,” I shouted.

A creak later, the door swung open, revealing Adam. There was nobody else in the house anyway. With a global pandemic at large and wildfires blazing on deep into September, neither Ajay nor Cam had seen Dwight House since March. Just Adam and me.

“Yo, we out,” he said, pulling a reusable, black cloth mask under his chin. “Can’t see shit outside but we still drinking, dawg.” Ah, the charming vernacular of a Korean-American friend from the elite suburbs of the East Bay.

“It’s good. What’re we feeling today?” I had actually enjoyed the past six months with Adam—it had been a good bonding experience. Despite his rough tone around me and the rest of the guys, Adam was quite versatile in social settings, weaving between upper-class gentility at investment banking info sessions and middle-aged rednecks at gun ranges. With classical Berkeley-liberal ideologies and Wall Street Journal-reading, center-right-leaning, finance friends, Adam defied social realities.

Adam shrugged. “Could go for some Chimay. I’m feeling classy.”

“Not a bad idea at all, my friend,” I said. It had been awhile since I’d had a good beer like Chimay, and I was getting sick of Coors Banquets. “On the other hand, your timing just might be—a bad idea, I mean. Air looks cancerous outside.” Marmalade light cast by the wildfires of a fuming Earth engulfed Northern California, held in suspense by cool, Pacific layers of atmosphere. It was like we were on planet Arrakis, from Dune, or trapped in the world of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust.

“The air low-key is cancerous. AQI is pushing 180’s right now,” said Adam, raising his eyebrows.

“Looks like an N95-kinda day. I’ve got a spare, you know,” I said, gesturing to a pile of three or so N95 masks by the lamp on my desk.

Adam waved it off. “Eh, I’m good. That’s some puss shit. Let’s just run over to Crafts and Grapes or some shit, shouldn’t take long.”

I shrugged. “So be it.”

Tossing on a pair of five-and-a-half inch inseam Lululemon shorts, I joined Adam as he hopped downstairs.

“Got keys?” he asked once we reached the door.

“Yer, we out,” I said, shaking my keys out from my shorts’ pocket to lock the front door.

“Fuck,” griped Adam. “It’s actually hot as shit out here.” Smoky, red air obscured him from sight as he craned his neck to see me.

“Hence the shorts.”

Adam squinted his eyes, pursed his lips, and jutted his head back and forth, mocking me. “For sure. Forgot your MCAT-lovin’-ass could predict the future. But really though—it’s the middle of September, dude. This shit is wrong. It’s hot as balls and California is on fire and the sky is red and fools are straight-up dying off this COVID shit.”

“And you’re still an idiot,” I said, flashing a cheeky smile.

“Are you qualified to diagnose me as an idiot?”

“Maddie would say so.”

“Hence the pet names.”

“Precisely.”

“We gotta do something about this, bruh. This shit pains me to see,” declared Adam.

“Let’s start by drinking these brews. We’ll recycle the bottles after.”

We walked east on Dwight toward Telegraph, dodging cars as we skipped across the one way street. Adam was quieter than usual, for the most part, looking up from his iPhone 11 Pro Max periodically to comment on something he’d read in the news, or the glum weather. He wore a khaki short sleeve button-up, Kapital raw denim jeans with smiley face patchwork on the back left pocket, and a pair of slip-on Nike Janoski sneakers. The jeans were nice—quite expensive, from the looks of it—but looked baggy on him. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, all of his clothes  wore a bit loose on him, akin to a fiery adolescent who’d picked out hand-me-downs from an older sibling. Who that older sibling might’ve been, I’d never know—with his unwavering demeanor, Adam always seemed like the eldest in the room.

Banking right onto Telegraph, we bore the full brunt of the veiled sun, which, though hidden behind dense clouds of smoke, now revealed its penetrating UV rays. We ducked under corrugated foam polycarbonate sheets, which lined the rooftops of mom-and-pop Telegraph shops, fending off the sun’s cancerous radiation. The insanity of the world mingled with the smoky, copper air, making me delirious. I imagined I was Mel Gibson or Tom Hardy in Mad Max, feigning off flashbacks in the Wasteland. At the corner of Telegraph and Blake street, Adam pushed and held open the door to Crafts and Grapes. Nodding my head at him in small thanks, I entered, squinting my eyes as the light shifted from hazy red to bright white inside. It was a tiny store, with two aisles directly ahead lined with candy, nuts, and other inconsequential (unless you ate too many) snacks, followed by two refrigerators: one in the back, the other on the far right. Cool, wispy air emanated from the cold storage, contrasting with the late summer atmosphere only meters behind us. A bell rang as the door squeaked to a halt, prompting the middle-eastern cashier, directly to our right, to rise from his stool and greet us. We nodded back silently, all three of us clad in masks.

Per usual, Adam took the lead, striding toward the fridge directly back. He popped open one of the see-through doors with his left hand, mapping his way through its items with his right pointer finger. Finding my eyes, Adam shook his head, indicating a lack of Chimay.

“Blue moons?” I suggested. “Mango wheats?”

Adam screwed up his face. “Fuck that. Let’s go with Lags.”

“Sure, why not.”

Adam kneeled and looped his hand through the cardboard handle of a Lagunitas StereoHopic IPA six-pack. We walked over to the register where Adam made small talk with the cashier. Eventually, he tapped his iPhone 11 to an Ingenico payment terminal, finalizing our transaction. Drinks acquired.

The bell jingled as the door shut behind us once more. We hurried home, eager to crack open our drinks, intent on droning out the blistered yonder. Adam tried to explain his enthusiasm for hoppy beers while I pretended to listen. He was distracting me, though; we both knew I couldn’t care less.

Arriving home, my keys found their way to the door, and we found our ways to the couch. A tenor beep resounded through our living room as Adam’s iPhone connected to an old speaker via bluetooth. “Street Lights” by Kanye West filled the air, followed by carbon dioxide bubbles freed by an unlikely liberator—the bottle opener.

Let me know

Do I still got time to grow?

Things ain’t always set in stone

That be known let me know

I found myself back in the hand-me-down BMW 330i, with her, the white wire packed into the lightning port of my iPhone, transmitting cosine waves that replicated the robotic voice I was listening to in my living room.

“Stop!” she cried, thrusting herself back against beige, leather seats. She wanted me to press the brakes. I had to stop the car, right, stop the car. Where were the brakes?

She was beautiful, of course.

Dark, brown hair fell over eyes of the same color, guarded by double-lids that I wish she hadn’t paid for.

Hardly anyone would notice the difference, but I did, and it hurt to know that she didn’t love them.

I loved them, unconditionally, but she loved the brakes.

Needed to find them.

We’d shared a large bowl of Marafuku’s acclaimed Hakata Tonkotsu DX ramen. I’d let her eat most of it, sneaking my chopsticks in for bites at intervals.

“Pennsylvania?” I shook my head.

“What, you’ve never been?” She tilted hers. “You’ll love it. Come with me.”

“You’re crazy,” I said, smiling. “My MCAT summer is coming up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’ll help you study for it. Duh.”

“I’m sure Brandon would love that.”

“Will he? All the way from San Francisco?”

“He’ll make the trip.”

“Not if you do,” she said, melting my mind.

I was dizzy, sleepy, lost, a newborn. Vulnerable. And I couldn’t seem to find them.

I’m just not there in the streets

I’m just not there

Life’s just not fair

Life’s just not fair

Sonorant chimes reverberated in my ears as Adam clinked his glass bottle to mine. “Cheers,” he said with a nod.

“Cheers,” I echoed. Leaning my head back, I swallowed, allowing the cool liquid down my esophagus and into my gut.

“You good?” he prodded.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking a little. I cleared my throat.

“Pretty hoppy, huh?”

I took another sip, licking my lips after. “Quite. I suppose we knew what we were getting ourselves into. You know, given the ‘StereoHopic’.”

“You right.”

“Yeah.”

“Yo,” said Adam. “On another note—might be going in on an addy deal with Grace if you’re tryna hop in.”

I scratched my head. While I wouldn’t have any major exams in the near future (although midterms for my biochem course [MCB 102, for my fellow pre-med students at Cal] were slated for October sixteenth), I certainly had errands that might be eased by a twenty milligram dose of extended-release Adderall. There’s nothing like a thorough room-cleaning session when you’re high on stimulant drugs.

The first time I ever tried Adderall must’ve been during my freshman year, back in 2017. Midterm season was approaching—come to think of it, that was around this time that year—and our generous friend, Grace, was kind enough to grant me a ten milligram pill of instant-release Adderall. Grace and I, along with Adam and perhaps Ajay, too, were partaking in a midnight study session at Moffitt Library, which was open twenty-four-seven—prior to the pandemic. I popped the pill, chased it down with a Javiva drink from Peet’s, and got to work.

Twenty minutes later I began to feel its effects as the amphetamine altered monoamines in my brain, releasing surplus dopamine into my many synaptic clefts. Optimism filled me to the brim and my vision bent inward. I saw nothing but the iPad in front of me, my mind enamored by golgi apparatuses and various protein structures. The stimulant saturated me with a profound appreciation for all thoughts that meandered into my head; a giddiness originated in my heart, spreading down my arms, my legs, and outward across my skull, contracting then expanding once more. It was artificial love.

Eventually, I was distracted. Grace’s dilated pupils stared into mine as she chattered away  about Lin-Manuel Mir-something and a hurricane in Puerto Rico. After a second or two, my attention snapped away from cell membranes, landing instead on her words. The words of a girl from Colorado with a soft spot for the snow. I’d met Grace via Adam during Orientation Week and she’d quickly become one of my favorite people.

Gingerbread specks stippled her face like a George Seurat painting, fractal constellations arising as my eyes outlined her cheekbones. Gaps between long, chocolate locks revealed sepia collarbones, lined with descendants of the freckles on her face. A white Nike Alex Morgan soccer jersey overlaid the loose sweatpants that hung from her hips, held up by drawstrings I almost hoped would fail, concealing proportions that emulated golden ratios. Stained, white, laceless Vans hugged unpainted toes that tapped together when she spoke. Lips that scorned the artificially enlarged mouths of Instagram influencers communicated messages I was only barely beginning to listen to. She was the love interest of a nineties’ coming-of-age motion picture. But she wasn’t mine.

You know, I thought Adam might’ve loved her, but it was hard to tell when he was cycling through hookups with three different girls at a time. Come to think of it, I didn’t know if Adam loved anyone. A talker, yes; a charmer, certainly; but a romantic, I really didn’t think so.

He spent a lot of his time with her, no doubt. And she cared for him—anyone could see it. But she knew as well as I did that his head wasn’t in it. He wasn’t looking for love. He wanted to graduate, make money—to be someone. Sex seemed like nothing more than a physical need to him. I don’t think anyone would’ve described Adam as an emotionally vulnerable guy, and I don’t think anyone thought that emotion was what he kept those girls around for.

But at the same time, anyone could’ve seen what I saw in the way he bounced when she was around. Anyone could’ve heard the way he spoke about her. She meant something to him. But when you asked him about it, he’d brush it off; she wasn’t his type, or he had commitment issues (jokingly—but hey, grain of truth in everything).

Maybe she was his distraction from ambition—his distraction from latex-wrapped, emotionally removed nights and Wall Street Journal mornings, just as she was my distraction from cell structures.

For a good hour-and-a-half, Grace entertained me with conversation regarding natural disasters across the West; Broadway musical comparisons between Hamilton and Sunday in the Park with George; and the latest updates on Cal’s women’s soccer team, of which she was a huge fan. The Adderall certainly kept me focused, although not necessarily on my coursework.

“Let me know,” said Adam, tipping the bottle into the corner of his mouth. “I’m boutta text her back.”

I looked up from my lap at Adam. Right, I thought. “Sure, I could be down. Why not. Think you can pick me up two? I have some errands to run.”

“Twenty milligram XR work?” he asked as he tapped along the screen of his iPhone.

“That’ll do.”

The room went quiet for twenty to twenty five seconds as I was confirmed as an accomplice in the drug deal.

“What’s she been up to?” I asked.

“Hm?” he noised, raising his eyebrows without looking up.

“Grace,” I said. “Haven’t seen her much.”

He shrugged. “Not much, I guess. Drinking a solid amount though, from what I’ve seen.”

“Makes three of us.”

“Yeah,” he said, feigning a smile. “What about yours?”

“Maddie?”

“Yeah.”

I took a deep breath—inhaling, holding to the count of four, exhaling. “Not much of a difference, to be honest.”

“It’s not her fault, you know.”

“I know,” I breathed.

“Then talk to her.”

“It’s not like that,” I mumbled.

Adam paused.

I stared at my feet. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

He squinted. “The fuck you sorry for?”

“You know.”

He waved his hand aside, brushing it off. “I’m not tripping. Talk to her. Before I do it myself.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe it’s better off that way.”

“Here,” he said, handing me a two-foot-tall bong and lighter from under the coffee table. “Take it.”

Couldn’t stay away. My fingers gripped the paraphernalia as he withdrew. My heart quickened as the impending drug interaction approached. When it reached my lips, I lit, then inhaled, holding to the count of four, and then some. Blurry feelings rushed my mind as states of sufferance gave way to sedated nebulas, teaching me forgetfulness.

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: Oblivious Izuku

1 Series. 57 Works.

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? by reading_raindrop (T |  8,303 | 4/4 )

“A-ah B-Bakugou! You dropped some pencils!”

Katsuki stiffened. Kirishima and Kaminari froze. Basically, everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing to look at Izuku like he sprouted a second head. What did he just call him? “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Katsuki whipped his head towards Izuku with his signature death glare as he stood up from where he picked up the fallen supplies.

“U-um I said you dropped some pencils! I think this eraser might be yours to-”

“No. What the fuck did you just call me?”

Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would

It's Okay, Quirkless by VMarus ( M |  34,187+ | 15/? )

Izuku just wants to make his mother proud and to be happy with himself.

AU. Quirkless Vigilante Izuku!

[Major Character Death | Graphic Depictions Of Violence]

A Challenger Appears by MariaMediaOverThere ( T | 9,467 | 3/3 )

"Oh, so is Midoriya really seeking a relationship like that then?" And for the first time, there's a crack in Kota's impassive stance. Vulnerability. But also a glimmer of something excited- hopeful.

"I don't give a shit, but if Deku were, hypothetically, looking for a relationship," and Bakugou would be the first to know if he was, as well as the first to line up, and also suspiciously the only one alive in line. "He definitely wouldn't be trying anything with some shitty high schooler." Bakugou sneers, not even attempting to mask the distaste in his tone.

"So stick your obvious fanboy crush up someone else's ass, okay?"

The kid seems to consider this at first before looking Bakugou dead in the eyes, "Well in ten years when your pro hero injuries are forcing you into retirement, this shitty high schooler will have graduated med school and then it will be you versus a hot young doctor with a stable income."

With an air of finality, Kota shoulder-checks Bakugou while carefully holding the coveted Deku figurine in his possession.

"...Bitch."

Heart Out by minzie ( E | 65,588+ | 12/? )

Bakugou Katsuki was not the type of person you’d call in an emergency. Sure, he’d help you out if he was standing right next to you and you were about to get stabbed because of his damn hero complex, and because he’s maybe, kind of, somewhere a decent person, but that’s about it.

It was just his luck that someone needed saving tonight, in more than one way.

Lights. Camera. Hero! by brichibi ( E | 23,248+ | 6/? )

If there’s one thing Izuku Midoriya’s good at, it’s dreaming big, and dreaming hard. That’s why he’s in Hollywood, of all places, his hometown an entire ocean away along with his graduating high school class and single mother. But he’s gonna be an actor, an international sensation, a superstar like no other.

He just.

Has to convince the rest of the world.

Which is, admittedly, a difficult task.

[AU where "My Hero Academia" is an upcoming television series, everyone's an actor/actress, and romance happens behind the scenes]

Not All Heroes Wear Capes by vulcanhighblood ( T | 11,002 | 3/3 )

When Kacchan offered to scare off pushy groupies and nosy reporters for Izuku, he hadn't realized that Kacchan was planning to lie about the two of them being in a relationship in order to do so.

Room 207 by bakudeku ( Not Rated | 8,796+ | 4/? )

No one, not even Bakugou Katsuki, could deny that Izuku was adorable as fuck.

ᶜᵃⁿ ᶦ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘʰʰʰʰʰʰ

ˢᵒᶠᵗ ᵏᵃᶜᶜʰᵃⁿ

[Suicide Attempt]

Oh, These Aching Bones by IAmStoryteller ( T | 17,470 | 10/10 )

The cold weather rolls in and Izuku suffers unexpectedly, which leads to a series of events to make Class 1-A and a certain loudmouth childhood friend turned rival realize that despite Izuku's greatness as a hero, they have to look after him.

The Childhood Friends-To-Sweethearts Contest by Merrywetherweather ( G | 3,064 | 1/1 )

Present Mic just wanted to throw together a little event for couples and soon-to-be couples and these two 3rd year idiots come in and utterly destroy the competition while remaining 100% oblivious to everything that's going on around them.

This is more of a comedy piece than anything. I wanted to play around with the idea that Katsuki and Izuku probably still know a lot about each other and are ultimately still on the same wavelength. Like, you expect them not to know as much about one another, since they appear to not get along, but they know each other like the back of their hands.

[On Hiatus] Stay away from him, he's mine! by AShippingAddict  ( E | 12,143+ | 4/10 )

Bakugou Katsuki knew Valentine's Day was just a day where everyone went crazy trying to make love happen. He didn't care for it. He especially didn't care that everyone seemed to want Deku. He didn't care. It didn't matter that people were starting to invade Deku's space. Or that people kept touching him. He did NOT care, not one bit.

Or people flirt with Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou nearly kills someone because he's jealous.

Bakugou's Childhood Sweetheart Survival Guide by Butterfree ( G | 28,333 | 4/4 )

Childhood Sweethearts is a Japanese game show series inspired by the popular book The Childhood Friends-To-Sweethearts Contest by Merrywetherweather originating as far back as 2018. Childhood friends who are now lovers from all over the world compete in what is known as the ultimate challenge to prove your love to that girl next door, or to gain confidence to propose to the boy you've been protecting since you were both toddlers. Gaining a huge following and recently signing a contract to have their show aired internationally, the organizers opted to set up camp for the fifth season off the beach that Class 3-A happened to be spending a vacation on.

“Kacchan.”

“No.”

Deku gave him a look. “But I didn’t say anything yet.”

“You were thinking it. That’s enough incentive.”

Otherwise known as that other fanfic where Izuku and Katsuki sign up for a childhood sweethearts competition while remaining 99% oblivious to their growing feelings for each other.

[Homophobia]

Dirty Little Thoughts by MariaMediaOverThere ( E |  5,680+ | 2/3 )

“Think you can take me on one-on-one, shitty nerd? Better prepare yourself, because I’ll fucking knock you up!”

“You’ll what?”

“OUT! I MEANT OUT! I'll knock you OUT!"

Or Bakugou grapples with being a Deku-vert. That's right; a Deku-pervert. That's just what he is now.

Defenestration by amarielah ( E | 1,834 | 1/1 )

A drunken Bakugou pays Izuku a visit via window. Things get messy.

Series Part 3 of Bakugou Katsuki: Human Disaster

[Dubcon]

there are a million things to run from, but i'm not one of them  ( T | 3,961 | 1/1 )

Soulmate! AU Bakugou Katsuki is a firm ideologist in the belief that winners conquer everything and losers gain nothing. He's lived his life with an explosive demeanor and icy heart, and even as a model, he refuses to lighten up for the sake of public image. There is little that can change him, and nothing that can shake him- until he meets an insecure photographer whose fingers shake behind flash, but whose eyes shine stronger than anyone he's ever met before. Oh, and who makes a soulmark spring up on Bakugou's wrist the second their eyes meet. [In which Bakugou has no idea what secrets Midoriya Izuku is hiding, but he's determined to find out and in doing so discovers that sparks don't just come from cameras.] 

[Past Abuse]

Drunk Confession by bombingking ( M | 4,613 | 1/1 )

In which Izuku is invited to his first college party and is oblivious to the fact that the person who invited him also happens to have a secret crush on him. 

[Series]  Arranged by amiluna ( Not Rated | 2 Works | Complete )

Izuku knows as a quirkless he will be married off soon...he had hoped it would be to someone he wanted, but then life always messes with him like that. Add in the childhood friend he forgot and you have one hell of a mess for the boy who just wants to decide for himself for once. 

After Arranged, Izuku moves in with Katsuki. From here on out, he encounters hardships revolving his former friend and the joys of making a new friend. The only question now being will it all blow up in his face and threaten everything he has? 

Forgetful by Pop_Rocks (v_love) ( E | 3,436 | 1/1 )

Normally Bakugou managed to contain his temper -- even if it was just a little -- when it came to Midoriya. Even still, his outbursts just seemed to make Midoriya laugh now, mostly because it was never over anything big and Midoriya was no longer afraid of Bakugou doing anything but make little threats that he very rarely went through.

Normally.

Today was different though.

----

In which Midoriya forgets his and Bakugou's anniversary.

Series Part 1 of Kacchan and Deku's Shenanigans

[On Hiatus] “can’t sleep love” by avalescence_hurlocked ( G | 20,782+ | 7/? )

tell me, am I going crazy? tell me, have I lost my mind?

alternatively; Bakugou's got a crush, and he's got it really bad, but he doesn't want it at all. at least, that's what he tells himself.

Only for a bet (I fucking swear!) by Dana91  ( M | 3,096 | 1/1 )

Inspired by Tinogeb's fanart

Bakugo Katsuki teased. Bakugo failed. How did he end up fucking the damn nerd?!

That’s Not It! by Pop_Rocks (v_love) ( T | 5,800 | 1/1 )

Midoriya felt distracted lately, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint its cause (although he had an idea) which was even worse. However, he found himself spending less time focusing in class and during quirk training. He found himself drifting in and out of the conversations around him, and he found that he was a little flustered.

————

In which Midoriya realizes he has feelings for Bakugou after Bakugou’s gotten a little soft.

Series Part 7 of Kacchan and Deku’s Hooplas

Bakugou Deals With Jealousy in a Creative Manner by Renex ( E | 1,672 | 1/1 )

“That fucking half and half bastard I swear to god next time he pulls some shit like that again I’ll blow his head right off his shoulders.” Bakugou practically snarled, slamming the door to his dorm room shut before tossing his bag to the ground and collapsing down onto the bed.

“Kacchan, relax. He was just helping me that’s all.”

“Helping you?” The short-tempered blonde practically snorted, sitting up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at the freckled boy standing in front of him. “The man was practically tongue fucking you.”

Distance by IAmStoryteller ( T | 32,273 | 11/11 )

Distance makes the heart grow fonder. (Izuku and Bakugou deal with living life thousands of miles away from each other in their own way)

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh ( T | 23,710+ | 3/? )

"We're really sorry", his father says, in that teary-eyed, wobbly way Katsuki most certainly didn't inherit from him, thank fuck. "But your friend, Izuku, he's...", he hesitates for a moment, as if trying to find the right words for that situation. "He's gone, son", he concludes, giving Katsuki's hand a squeeze. Behind him, his mother stands, face almost as impassive as ever.

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

"What the fuck are you two talking about?", he asks, not as aggressively as he would have liked to. "The damn nerd is standing right beside you!"

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Being assumed dead from his lack of brain function, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in his soul-like state is no one other than Kacchan.

Tempura Spitfire by Chyme ( T | 17,977+ | 4/6 )

‘Fuck. Flowers it is. Massive, sunshine, everything-is-fucking-great yellow ones, that will make him sneeze his head off.’

Months ago, Bakugou Katsuki had had a conversation with his father that had inspired him to act on his feelings for Izuku. This is the story of how said attempt turned out.

And don't give me that look, dear reader. Things are gonna turn out fine.

Series Part 3 of Dinner and A Show (Of Explosions, Presumably)

Bad at Love by officiallytrash ( T | 102,022+ | 11/? )

Class 1-A is put to the test in one of U.A.'s classes and tests where they face a faux-villain they can't seem to win against. During the two-day fighting, Bakugou noticeably becomes more and more shaken by the faux-villain.

Midoriya wants to help him and to become his good friend once again. Bakugou knows there is more than friendship in his own head but wants to keep Midoriya close, if only to keep him safe. But with jealousy, friendships, and their dreams on the line, they have to get even closer to help the other.

[On Hiatus] Efflorescence by SleepieAsh ( T | 10,349+ | 4/? )

As beautiful as they were, he grew tired of the sight (and taste) of green chrysanthemums after the first petal fell from his mouth.

(Somewhere between the bug-catching and hand-holding, Bakugou fell for his childhood friend. In turn, he traded the relief of surgery for feelings of fondness and the misery that came with it.)

spring snow by altruisticizuku ( G | 1,008 | 1/1 )

izuku is a bit of a lightweight and katsuki might be kinda jealous.

~~

bakudeku week 2018; day 2: romantic nights / dancing / your eyes

Series Part 2 of Bakudeku Week 2018

Broken Horns & Fragile Wings by zuccin ( G | 1,682 | 1/1 )

When Izuku was a child, he met an angel. An adorable angel that lived next door, Bakugou Katsuki. Years passed and Midoriya (or Deku) is sure his angel got even cuter by the time; he's glad they are together.

// In an universe where Angels and Demons live peacefully together, a green haired demon falls in love with an angel.

Series Part 1 of Angels & Demons

[Abandoned] Your Only One by iKrazybear (Hyuuwi) ( Not Rated | 14,258 | 8/? )

Bakugou gets pretty jealous of how much admiration Midoriya has for Todoroki.

He wants the cinnamon roll for himself.. so much that he can't control his emotions for him.

early bird gets the worm by yjslaugh  ( M | 1,091 | 1/1 )

This is bullshit, he thinks. Katsuki was there when Deku shit his pants in elementary school. Since then he's made it his personal life mission to get everybody to stay the hell away from him. Partly because he hates his guts and partly because he's hopelessly in love with the damn prick. Ninety-nine and one percent respectfully.

Katsuki knows it's probably not exactly healthy to be so possessive over somebody whos not his, especially somebody he's meant to hate, but when has he ever been healthy? He's filled to the brim with trauma, anger issues and more emotional baggage than a white family going to Hawaii.

Endeavors of the Mind by KittKatt420 ( M | 44,464+ | 5/8 )

Bakugo and Midoriya both struggle with different aspects of their newfound relationship. Katsuki wants to be more open with his affections for Deku, but is hindered by his intimacy issues. Izuku covets Kacchan's affection, but is too afraid of being overbearing. BakuDeku-centric with mentions of KiriShido and TodoMomo. Yaoi. M/M Lemon flavored chapters.

[Panic Attacks]

Cookies by Dana91 ( M | 2,641 | 1/1 )

If Bakugo Katsuki receives a gift, he makes sure to say Thank you (mostly if it's a gift from Deku).

Inspired by: Cruxnix's art (thanks! (シ_ _)シ)

[Underage]

Don't Burn the Mackerels by Starpotion  ( T | 1,376 | 1/1 )

Kacchan was willingly going to make breakfast.

The world was going to end early indeed.

Five times Bakugou Katsuki tried to get into Deku's pants, and the one time he succeeded by Moratorium19 ( T | 2,733+ | 3/6 )

« Is the smile included in the service? »

The waiter with the nameplate “Bakugou Katsuki” directed him the sourest glare he could muster.

“No,” he gritted out.

“Oh, good. You wouldn’t want to cheat your customers. I’ll take a light coke, a Big Mac without salad and onion rings instead of fries.” Izuku smiled, handing the menu back to the fuming ashen blonde.

“Sir” he bit out with barely restrained fury. “May I remind you that this is not Mc Donalds, but a Michelin star restaurant? Did you even have a look at the menu?”

“…No?”

“You fuckwad,” Bakugou hissed and cussed twice more internally. There went his paycheck.

(What you need to) Overcome by neerapen ( T | 2,751 | 1/1 )

Waking up in an hospital bed is normal routine for Izuku. Waking up with Kacchan's quirk still humming in his veins, however, makes him think. And everybody knows he shouldn't do that.

Or: Izuku doesn't know. Katsuki doesn't say it.

Series Part 2 of Nantonaku

[PTSD]

Not-Dates and Makeup by zuccin ( G | 2,137 | 1/1 )

Midoriya and Bakugou were hanging a lot lately. Not as a couple, obviously (at least Midoriya thought so). But the catch is: why is Katsuki so pretty with makeup?

Series Part 2 of Bakugou & Makeup

Falling by Dokuine ( G | 2,016 | 1/1 )

Midoriya Izuku did not have much experience or luck when it came to love, but he never expected it to literally knock him onto his rear one day. Not that he recognized it for what it was, not in that first meeting.

tribulation by insanityxspeaks ( T | 5,852+ | 2/? )

At least fifteen minutes of pep talk and reckless alcohol consumption later, Izuku and Ochaco stood pink-eared in front of Katsuki’s door. The duo didn’t dare look at each other. They didn’t dare breathe. They didn’t dare move, aside from Ochaco’s nerve-induced reaction of floating several inches from the ground. The only sounds that broke through the silence were the creaking of their open jaws and the creaking of the bed inside the room. Explicit utterances. Breathy moans.

A minute later, Ochaco: “. . . Those are one hundred percent the sounds of two men fucking.”

[A five-year reunion and drunken shenanigans brings Izuku to a door he swore he'd closed. A love story.]

Warm by Fitzfire ( G | 3,564 | 1/1 )

After graduation, Bakugou and Midoryia move in together. Still oblivious to the nature of their bond, and the feelings they harbor for each other, they fall into a routine.

Could a broken air conditioner throw a wrench in that?

Series Part 1 of Have Your Cake And Eat It

The Walk Home by artemancy ( G | 1,105 | 1/1 )

It's dangerous to walk around with your head in the clouds.

Workplace Relationship by bkdkwritingsdump ( T | 5,916 | 3/3 )

Izuku, the son of an extremely wealthy family, works at a high-end department store shortly after graduating college to get some real world experience and figure out what he wants to do with his life. His total jerk of a boss, Katsuki, also happens to be his old childhood friend who he hasn’t seen since middle school. And, on top of it all, his parents are breathing down his neck to find someone he can marry before he’s thirty. Katsuki overhears this… and asks him out.

Private Practice by thiefqueen ( M | 2,670 | 1/1 )

Midoriya accidentally sort of sets up a private fight with Bakugou during class after realizing he has a "problem" with the other teen. Their teachers are happy to set the fight up (and they not-so-secretly ship it).

Put It On Me by mangosmoothiecoran ( T | 31,018+ | 9/? )

Izuku has always had a passion for dancing. Looking up to the Pro-Dancers of the country, he always wished to be great. However, after moving away from his hometown and all he has known, he lost something inside of him. Fast forward eight years and Izuku finds himself in his second year at the prestigious dance academy of U.A.. Under the wing of Pro-Dancer All Might, his second year brings him face-to-face with a dance competition that will challenge his skills as a dancer and the normality he is used to. Unable to feel confident in what he is doing though, Izuku is reunited with a childhood friend who sparks a fire in him that died when he left his hometown.

(This summary will most likely change)

It's Not A Date! by otaku916 ( M | 3,672+ | 1/? )

“If he doesn’t attack you the moment you walk through the door his dick is broken.” Ochako interrupted, making Izuku and Iida both choke on their spit.

Or

What happens when you have the emotionally constipated, gruff, socially inept guy ask out the oblivious nervous wreck? An awkward disaster of a date that's what. Go through the pain of first dates, hormones, and running away from your feelings that comes with going through puberty - all while training to be a hero!

Island by ScreamingYearly ( T | 4,825 | 1/1 )

There wasn’t any room in Katsuki’s heart for crushes or love. He didn’t want to indulge any of those things until he had the proper time, but becoming the top hero wouldn’t allow him that time, and that was something he was fine with.

So, of course, during the beginning of third year, Katsuki promptly fell head over fucking heels for Midoriya Izuku.

[Underage]

Fae Boy and Explosion Girl by Swifty_Heart ( T | 11,196+ | 2/? )

I wanted to write a story about Izuku being a cute little fairy, this is fluff and Katsuki is an adorable girl. Izuku doesn't need One For All he's a badass fairy. Mythical creatures live among humans but humans don't know this

Fate Awaits by empressrice ( T | 4,329+ | 2/? )

Soulmates are supposed to be perfect for each other. They are supposed to meet and fall in love and be together for the rest of their life.

When Izuku and Katsuki find out that they are soulmates it feels like that for the moment, but reality comes crashing down on both of them, a rift forming between the two, one that neither of them can ever see being fixed.

But when the universe declares something, it will come to fruition, whether they want it to or not.

Home Is Where Your Deepest Scar Is by Glamgas ( E |  7,121+ | 1/2 )

When Bakugou had heard that true bravery was loving the person you hated the most he could have laughed in the person's face. Doubled over in pure disbelief. How were you supposed to love someone you hated? How could you care for the person who had caused you so much pain?

---

Snapshots of Bakugou's journey in finding home in the person he hates the most.

Gift in Winter by DragonKRZ  ( T | 5,854 + | 2/? )

No fucking way, it wasn’t possible. It was Deku they were talking about. The only thing Bakugou knows is that he's fucked. Kirishima should stop grinning at him and giving him thumbs up before he gets his face pummeled. Midoriya is an oblivious fluff ball while Todoroki joins the Deku squad. Tentatively set in the summer after their first year.

But I'm Batman (Deku) by theskywalkerkid ( M | 1,781+ | 1/? )

When Izuku was eight years old his parents died in a car accident and it left a hole in his heart. They left him with happy memories, company to run by himself, and his best friend/ butler Shinsou. To fill the hole in his heart Izuku started to do vigilante work under the name Deku, although quirkless he still manages to get his job done. However, when a threat against his life is made known his childhood friend and business partner Shouto, gets pro heroes to protect him. Enter Bakugou Katsuki the number one pro hero who is working with the police to hunt down the vigilantes for doing illegal hero work and also protecting Izuku not realizing that he is one of the vigilantes that he's hunting down.

Basically, a story where Izuku is Batman, but goes by Deku and works with other vigilantes to save people who he feels that the pro heroes neglect.

The Dragon Mark by multi_bnha ( M | 2,737+ | 2/? )

“Momma?” “Yes dear?” Inko asked. “Why do I have this mark?” Confused, Inko looked at her son. What is this little boy talking about? She checked all over his body and didn’t see any kind of mark on him. “What mark are you talking about sweetie? I don’t see anything on you.” “This one right here,” he says while lightly tracing above his elbow. Looking over his body again, she didn’t see anything different on him. “Are you sure there’s a mark on you Izuku?” Inko questioned one more time. “Yes momma, don’t you believe me?” Izuku said as tears started to form around his eyes. ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean to make him upset,’ Inko thought to herself. Pulling him in a hug she said,"Of course I believe you, don’t ever think that.” Sniffling he looked up at her, “Then how come you can’t see it? Is something wrong with me?” Feeling more guilty over what she said before she tried to reassure him that he’s normal and nothing seems to be wrong with him, even if she can’t visibly see it. As she’s comforting him, his tears slowly started to fall, but he made no sound and stayed in his mother’s embrace until he fell asleep.

Say you love me by Marsbears ( M | 32,919+ | 5/? ) I’m not really good at summaries but this should kinda spark your interest.

Izuku is going through his very first break up and suffering the whiplash affects of it. He very shockingly discovers he’s got a new neighbor and his name is Katsuki. They’re not the best of neighbors but by the end of the story they will be.

But basically Izuku and Katsiki end up falling in love but don’t necessarily know that they both feel the same way about one another because they’re both very slow in the feelings department when it comes to other people. But with the help of Bakugous best and only friend, Eijiro, and a lot of prolonged effort shit happens.

[Panic Attacks]

You're Always on My Mind by ariela_jack ( T | 3,034+ | 2/? )

Midoriya Izuku has a dangerous empathy/fuubutsushi quirk that could be taken advantage of, so he grows up not knowing and believing that he is quirk less.

A fic where Izuku figures out about his quirk and Katsuki helps him through it. Also, this is all going on while Izuku is battling through his mental health issues.

and/or

Izuku finds out about his quirk at a stupid class game on a field trip, with all the sexual tension there he realizes he can feel what everyone is feeling and goes red.

(I'm really bad at writing summaries, and just writing in general but I hope you like it.)

[Panic Attacks | Self Harm]

Bakugou's Aversion by Foolish_Observer ( E | 1,436+ | 1/2 )

Bakugou grew onto his classmates surrounding themselves around Midoriya since they started dating, but there was was one person who always seemed to piss him off since day one.

Chances by RyvernTerrus ( T | 2,002 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is apologetic. Izuku is shook. Both are oblivious fools.

How do we call this? by ravioligirl ( Not Rated | 2,973+ | 2/? )

Misunderstanding /ˌmɪsʌndəˈstandɪŋ/ [ (n.) a failure to understand something correctly.]

In which Katsuki and Izuku find where they fucked up and fix it

Snow and Forgotten Memories by Akira575 ( Not Rated | 938+ | 2/? )

During a trip with their classmates, Bakugo and Izuku get caught up in an avalanche! Izuku gets injured and loses his memories. Bakugo has to keep them alive during a blizzard and deal with Deku being basically useless. Will Izuku forget Kaachan forever? What will happen?

Make A Move (Katsudeku) by Death_by_Crayola ( T | 444+ | 1/? )

Katsuki Bakugou is what they would call a teenage delinquent, but he considers himself a hero. He's fighting against an oppressive government who's bargaining to create a "utopia" but who are leaving the world stifled and grey. He runs a rebellion, one of no name, and is a highly wanted person in the world he lives in.

Izuku Midoriya is a quiet mannered, rule-abiding kid, but when he sees the infamous Bakugou in person, running from the police, when he's out buying groceries for his mother, he becomes fascinated with him and his cause, and ends up putting himself at risk to know what it means to want more than what's given to you.

(Originally called Uprising Imminent, I changed it and I like this title better)

[the-lady-bryan]

Weird Waitressing Dream - April 7, 2019

So last night I had a weird ass dream that felt so damn real I was disoriented for about 10 mins after I woke up and honest to got believed I'd made a big mistake quitting my job.... Only to realize that there's no such thing as an italian/waffle house fusion restaurant and I haven't been able to work due to medical shit since 2014. So.... anyway, here we go.

The best way to describe the start of the dream is I guess dream logic? A sort of montage but not montage I guess. This period encompassed around seven or eight years of dream time where I worked as a waitress in a, as stated above, italian/waffle house fusion restaurant. (I'd like to note that in the dream, I never saw what my life was like outside of work. I only know that I had a family and needed this job to help support them. And that my son was in high school. I may or may not have had other children. I don't know.) You know how every waffle house-type restauarant has "everyone's fave waitress"? I was it. I busted my ass, got great tips, the customers loved me and I was actually perfectly happy with my job even if the hours were long and most of my co-workers were assholes....

Speaking of co-workers... The only ones I ever saw were Angie, a teenager who worked after school that I'd trained so she was awesome. And The Bitch. She had a name but I never learned what it was in my dream because she always forgot her nametag and everyone except one other person called her "The Bitch". So, I'll assign her one now. Let's call her Brittany. I knew a lot of bitches in school named Brittany. And the last member of this cast of workers was Jamie. He was a lazy asshole who I think was a cross between maintenance guy and cook but I never saw him cooking or, well, doing anything really. He always sat at the end of the bar and drank Coronas all day, every day. (I only know they were Coronas because right before bed I'd looked up to see if a local bar, called Coronas, was still open of if it had closed down since I ain't seen people at it in a while. It closed down. Anyway, back to the dream.) The cast is rounded out by assorted customers coming and going, a few of them are regulars.

Okay so like, dream logic time lapse thing happens and then I walk in for a shift one morning. I'm pulling a double and relieving the general manager who is just finishing a double. I never see her, but anyway, I clock in and already Brittany is riding my ass and I ain't been there but less than five minutes. Angie isn't there yet because she's still at school. Brittany doesn't do shit but run her mouth all morning and afternoon till Angie gets there. Jamie's in his spot sucking down beers and I'm pretty much running the place alone but like a well oiled machine. I've got a system, and it's letting me cook, clean, and serve without any problems. I'm keeping the customers happy, racking in fantastic tips, all the while The Bitch just keeps on bitching and once in a while does a table that doesn't look like they'll be ordering anything too complicated.

Angie gets there and suddenly she's singing a different tune. Butter won't melt in her mouth. I know somethin is up because Britt the Bitch HATES Angie nearly as much as she hates me (I still don't know why she hates me but whatever. I just keep on a working). I work Angie into my system and the pair of us are doing great. Then Jamie decides he's done being the cook but he'll still do maintenance and what do you know he's decided fuck us using the grill - he's gotta fix it right this fucking second! - So the grill gets broken but I'm like "don't worry, I gotchu burger people!" and BAM! I whip out a George Foreman and slam it down on some clear counter space in the cooking area where I can keep an eye on it. And me and Angie just keep on bangin out orders.

My double ends and then weird dream time passing shit and I'm back at work. General Manager had pulled another long shift and has gone home. Jamie's in his spot, the Bitch starts her bitching, and I get to work as usual. But there's something.... different. Angie is there. And we're working like normal but she's not supposed to be there. She's supposed to be at school. So between orders I'm like "bitch you need to leave and get to school. your education's important and you don't wanna end up here forever." and she's like "eh." I eventually get her to leave and go to school. Late but she still goes. Angie's a great gal and whatever dream world she exsts in, she's gonna go far as long as she sticks to that life plan she's made for herself to get into chemical research.

Anyway so Angie leaves and I'm alone with the two laziest motherfuckers on dream-Earth.

Shift eventually ends and I leave.

TIME SKIP DREAM SHIT AND..... I'm walking in the door at work. Got my apron on. There's a promotion up for grabs and it's pretty obvious who's gonna get it. Me. I just have to get through one more shift before the owner of the place makes the announcement. This is pretty much just a formality at this point. Plus I was scheduled anyway so whatever.

The entire fucking day Brittany will NOT shut the fuck up about this guy "Justin" and how she's gonna totally hire him to be the new pizza chef. She's so bad with this that customers are like "Z, your awesome spaghetti sausage omelette is the best but even that isn't worth this shit. Here's my money, here's a tip for having to put up with this bitch, but I'm out." and she's literally driving away business to the point that after Angie's gotten out of school and clocked in the place is fucking dead. So, I decided fuck it, I'mma start cleaning shit to make it easier for shift change and cleaning your restaurant is just some really good positive shit man. I've got myself a big glass of iced sweet tea and I'm boppin along. And then, I take a break cause we're still dead. The moment my ass hits a stool at the counter, Brittany starts going on about "Great, now that SOMEONE is finally willing to sit down and shut up, we can get this meeting started" and I'm like "wtf? what meeting? Did Antonia call a staff meeting today? When's she get here?" and this bitch is all smug like "Ive been here for fifteen years so what I say goes and when I get the manager job" and I stopped listening after that and was like "Look, if you wanna hire this Justin guy then do it and shut the fuck up about it because you sound like an obsessive ex girlfriend the way you keep fucking talking about him." and Jamie's like "you can't talk to her like that!" and Angie's like ".......uh....... just pretend i'm not even here...." and Brittany, smug as shit is like "you've always had a problem with me since your first day! you'd better shape up or-" and finally i'm just so fucking done with this bitch. I very calmly say, "You're right." which shocks her enough and distracts both her and jamie enough for me to get up, untie my apron, take one large gulp of my huge ass iced sweet tea and then throw the liquid in this bitch's face while very calmly saying "Fuck this. I quit." I then threw the actual glass, it bounces off of jamie's head and hits the bitch in the face before falling and finally breaking, and then i take off the apron, drape it over my arm, and still weirdly calmly walk out the door.

once outside, i round the corner of the building and i call my boss, the GM, Antonia... who is also the owner. and i'm apologizing all over for waking her up because i know she had to pull another super long and hard shift and i know she's tired but i wanted her to know from me instead of hearing it from someone else that i had just quit and walked out and that i just can't work with "The bitch and that lazy fucking whale" anymore.

Now, Antonia was shocked to hear me swear because apparently despite real world not-dream me swearing like a goddamn sailor all the time, dream me NEVER talked like that. only in the most extreme of situations and then it usually had been like, Ned Flanders level of swearing. But I'm so done. i've lost my chill. i have none left. there are no more fucks for me to give. they've all been used up and i can't buy anymore because they stopped manufacturing the fucks for my model number. the point is, to Antonia, me swearing is "oh shit is this the purge?" level of panicing she should be doing right now.

after a few minutes of me losing my fucking cool on the phone she's like "i have another call and need to put you on hold." so she does, then not even a full sixty seconds later she's back and she's like "go home, calm down, and i'll talk to you tomorrow." and i'm like "why? i don't work here anymore. so fuck it." and she's like "no. go home Z, and calm your tits. i WILL speak with you tomorrow."

the last thing i heard before waking up was The Bitch screaming from the front of the building about having to actually fucking do her job for once and that Jamie was a useless piece of shit and Angie was a lying whore and I was a drug addict and shit.

after i woke up i sat in a chair for ten fucking minutes worried about having fucked up my family because i quit my job in a fit of rage instead of landing that promotion and that we'd have to sell the house and now i can't afford my meds and...

then it hit me. the building in my dream where i worked corresponds to a real life waffle house location down the street from my neighborhood, and they definitely are not an italian/waffle house fusion restaurant.

[schizophelia]

It's getting harder to focus....

Today I was in my university English class (Reading the Contemporary World) and the voices were pretty bad and then there was a cat. I just kind of watched the cat until the class started and the professor starting talking about the novel we were reading. I directed my attention to the professor and there was a monster thing that was trying to eat him!! I wanted to tell him there was something behind him but I didn't want to interrupt the class so I just kind of watched. There was also a lot of energy patterns and the walls were dripping black. The students in my class were talking about me and were laughing at me. I couldn't focus on the professor and by the time class ended, I learned nothing. I packed up my stuff and left the lecture room and left the building and walked back to my residence building. The walk back to my res was longer than usual because I thought people were following me so I'd stop walking and waited until they passed. I did this several times for different people. A 10 or so minute walk turned into a 20 minute one.

I made it back to my building and just sat on my bed and realized I learned absolutely fucking nothing in my lecture today. Then after a while, my friend I met in the hospital called. I answered. I told her what happened in class. She said she is glad I see the new psychiatrist on Monday and said she hopes the psychiatrist can help. On the phone with her, my replies felt slow. I couldn't think to answer her questions because there was a massive spider on my wall and a bird somehow got into my room. I got distracted and couldn't think. So I kind of went silent. She said she felt tired and we ended our conversation. She said she would call me tomorrow.

I have a lot of fucking reading I have to do this weekend. I have to read a few chapters for Intro Psychology and Intro Sociology. I also have to work on my PSYC1500 (Foundationals Skills in Psychology) assignment that is due at Wednesday's seminar. I also have to continue reading the book for my English class. I really hope I can focus so I can get this work done. I have Saturday and Sunday to catch up.

Monday is going to be exhausting. I meet with the psychiatrist, my therapist, and Gillian from START. I have 3 classes on Monday and my classes won't be over until after 9pm. I have to be at the JTP building before 9am. Then at 11am I have to be at P-Pod for therapy. At 12:45pm I have to be at the UC to meet Gillian. Then I have classes at 4:30pm until after 9pm. Plus I have to go to the pharmacy during operational hours because I didn't get my prescription filled today because I was so distracted and forgot. I have enough pills until Monday (but I don't have enough for Monday night). But, if the psychiatrist writes me a new script (which she probably won't) I will have to take it to the pharmacy too. Either way, I have to go to the pharmacy regardless of a new script or not. I'm a fucking idiot for not getting my prescription filled today. They're not open weekends so I have to wait until Monday.

Everything is a nightmare. Honestly. I can't even remember to get my damn script filled. I had the script with me the entire time today. Actually, it's been in my wallet all week so I wouldn't lose it. I hope I have time to take it to the pharmacy on Monday because I don't have enough Seroquel XR for Monday night. Ugh. I suck. I can't believe this happened. I'm usually on top of my medication. But my preoccupied piece of shit brain forgot. -_-

Appointments:

Psychiatrist: Sept 17 at 9am

Therapy: Sept 17 at 11am

START: Sept 17 at 12:45pm

Meds:

Fetzima 120mg

Seroquel XR 200mg

[winsister91]

Make Amends

Part Three - Family

This series is a sequel to Breaking A Promise

Summary: Y/N and Sam have a heart to heart the night before visiting the explosion site. When they get there, they find something unexpected.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2258

Series Masterlist Full Masterlist

~ Series and forever tags are open! ~

“Dean!” you shout, the shake in your voice abolishing any chance of intimidation, “Say something!”

He had been cold and silent ever since turning the car around. The atmosphere inside the Impala was so thick and tense it was suffocating. This was the fifth attempt trying to gain words from him.

It seemed the fifth time was the charm, as this was the first time in the last hour Dean’s eyes momentarily flicked to you before swiftly returning.

“What are you doing?” you plead, “You’re scaring me.”

“I told you what I’m doing,” he replies bluntly. You slink back into your seat feeling somewhat deflated and defeated.

“Ending this?” Sam took over the questioning, “How?”

“Just like any normal case,” Dean answered calmly, “Suit up, scope it out, find ‘em and gank ‘em.”

“Just like that,” Sam scoffs, trying to make him see reason, “Dean if what we suspect is true and there is….someone like Y/N… out there…”

You sigh heavily as he loses his trail of words. You all thought this was over. Your heart sank so low with guilt that you brought all this into their lives. You never wanted any of this to come back ever again. You’re not sure if you even could fight it again.

“Then we could be fucked,” you mumble, turning your gaze to the window as your eyes burned, “Maybe it’s best we lay low, they might not even be interested in us if we don’t go poking our nose in?”

“You really want to do that?” Dean looked at you in the rearview mirror with a raised eyebrow. You somehow sink further into your seat. He had you there. There was no chance in hell you could leave this alone.

He takes your silence as acceptance that this was happening.

“It’ll be late when we get there,” Dean plans, “So we find somewhere to crash. First thing in the morning we suit up… no, we get breakfast, then suit up and scope out the scene.”

You share a glance again in the mirror, now he was finally speaking again, they seemed mildly softer around the edges, still focused but pained.

“So long as you’re buying breakfast then,” you mumble, turning your gaze back to the window. You hope your attempt at some form of comedy has successfully masked your anxious thumping heart. You watch the scenery speed by, taking deep breaths as images of blood flood your mind.

No. It’s okay. We’ll end it. We will.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Ringing. So severe in pitch it’s painful. Screeching. Temples throbbing, ringing getting louder and louder.

You groan, instinctively bringing a hand to your forehead as you sit up in bed. Your vision is blurry, every blink making you wince as the sharp stings they shoot up from your eyes.

The dark motel room reveals it’s late into the night. Dean lays beside you breathing heavily as he sleeps. A slight reassurance, but right now all you were concerned about was getting rid of this pain.

You stumble from the bed and clumsily tread to the bathroom, perching yourself on the side of the bath as you hastily tear through your bag. A multitude of tampons and free motel mini shampoos and tubes of toothpaste scattering all over the floor as you fling them carelessly.

You feel the thin plastic that contains your relief, eagerly prying it out, only for your heart to stop. Empty.

I...forgot to stock up

You whine to yourself quietly in frustration, but still wary of not waking Dean. You tiptoe back into the room, the pain taking over your mind making you unstable and struggling to balance. You grab your phone from the bedside, wincing again as the screen comes alive and it’s harsh light attacks your eyes.

3am… nowhere nearby is gonna be fucking open.

You sigh in defeat. Then proceed to try an ‘ignore the pain’ approach, scrolling idly on your phone to distract yourself and hope it goes away. It isn’t a brilliant plan, but it was all you had. You flick onto your emails, knowing full well nothing would be hidden amongst all the spam, It did reveal something though. Sam was online. A little blue light next to his name on emails he’d previously sent you. Old emails, that’s how long you’d scrolled here in your desperation. Emails from last year...when he’d send you clips of CCTV footage and news articles and whatnot, back when you were searching for Dean.

Before I lost my damn mind.

You stare at the door to your room, slowly putting two and two together in your sleepy painful state.

If Sam’s online...he’s still up.

Before you know it, your fists are banging on his door.

“Sammyyyy,” you whimper, “It’s me.”

The door opens moments later, a bemused Sam emerging from behind.

“Y/N?” he says concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“You got any pain pills?” you sigh, holding your forehead and brandishing a small pout, “I’m all out.”

“Uh...sure probably,” Sam opens to door wider, “Come on in.”

You sit and wait on one of the vacant beds, still holding your head despite it doing little to nothing to help. You could see Sam’s laptop still lit up on the desk, notepad next to it, the web page on display is another article about the explosion. Your eyes linger on the photo and the bottom of your guts churn uncomfortably.

“Man, do you ever sleep?” you gesture to the computer when Sam reappears from the bathroom, a box of pills in hand.

“Of course I sleep,” he chuckles, tossing the box into your lap, “I just don’t need twelve hours like you two seem too.”

“Ha!” you smirk, “I wish. I’m lucky if I get two nights in a row without a damn headache lately.”

Sam sits at the chair near his computer, he turns it to face you and folds his arms while you rip into the packet and swallow two of the tablets hastily.

“Thank you,” you grimace at the awful taste lingering now in your throat.

“So this happens often then?” He questions.

You freeze. You hadn’t actually said anything about this to either of the boys. You told yourself it was so you didn’t worry them, but you knew your ulterior motive. You’re scared of it, especially now the frequency and severity was increasing, but didn’t you want to acknowledge it.

“Well…” you shrug, “Sometimes.”

“Y/N,” Sam raises an eyebrow to remind you he isn’t stupid, “Talk to me.”

“About what?” you laugh it off, trying to play it cool, “It’s just the odd headache every now and then, it’s understandable right?”

“I dunno, is it?”

“C’mon Sammy. Dean’s still stuck with the Mark, nevermind the fact he’s got a temper shorter than the freaking Incredible Hulk’s, and we’re finding jack shit in regards to getting rid of the damn thing.”

Sam sits back in his chair, watching as out of nowhere this came pouring out of you.

“I-it’s stressful Sammy, but I still love Dean no less than before, We keep fighting, and we’re happy. So I get a few headaches, with stress like all this crap it’s bound to happen right? I can live until it passes.”

You try to smile reassuringly, but Sam remains stoic. He takes a deep breath and leans forward, looking you in the eye.

“You can’t just bottle stuff like this up Y/N,” he says gently, “It’ll drive you nuts. Have you even spoken to Dean about this?”

You shake your head, averting your gaze from Sam’s no doubt disapproving expression, “He’s got enough on his plate.”

“Don’t keep him in the dark,” Sam instructs, “But you know you can always talk to me too right? You’re family.”

“I know,” you nod, feeling your heart swell, “Thank you, Sammy. Today has just been...interesting. Like I said, Dean, well all of us, have got enough on our plates. Now all this fucking shit with me seems to be sneaking its way back to bite us on the ass…”

“I know…” Sam says sympathetically, “It’s rough, to put it lightly.”

“Very lightly,” you chuckle, following with a deep sigh, “I am happy though Sam. There was a point I thought me and Dean would never get back to where we’re at now. But you, being the pesky little peacekeeper, you managed to push us in the right direction. I’ll never forget that Sammy.”

“You think I’m pesky?” Sam laughs, catching you off guard and making you titter too,

“Jerk, you know what I mean,” you were so tired that was the best comeback you could muster. You feel a little numb, possibly a combination of the meds kicking in and Sam cheering you up, “Well, I’m going to go and try and get back to sleep. Thanks for the pills, I won’t pester you again.”

“It’s not pestering,” Sam corrects you, “Any time Y/N.”

“And tomorrow,” you stand up and make your way to the door, “I’m telling you, the game face is going on!”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“I feel sick…” you whine, taking in the sight of the rubble around you. You’re all suited up and you regret picking the pencil skirt and heels combo. They aren’t the best shoes for maneuvering amongst loose debris and brick. Sam and Dean were talking to one of the police officers, checking what they know. You continue looking around, greeted with nothing but a building’s annihilation. A building and countless lives. There some heavy machinery around collecting and cleaning up the mess, diggers burying into the dust and dirt and depositing into huge skips. You notice one try to lift away a large chunk of remaining wall, but it crumbles away to pieces. You almost double take at what is revealed underneath.

“Stop!!” you yell to the worker at the wheel before he destroys anything, “Hold on a second!”

The middle-aged, pot-bellied worker looks at you bewildered but does as he’s told when he sees Sam and Dean running up behind you, evidently alerted by your shouting.

“Y/N?” Dean calls as he gets closer to you, “You okay?”

“Just look... “ you head over to the point in question. The crumbled chunk had revealed a large piece of wall still clutching to its foundations. Something seems to be scorched into it.

��Is that…?” Dean questions aloud.

“An angel wing?” Sam finishes.

It certainly seemed to be. Scorched black ash in the shape of a large wing was clearly there, contrasting strongly against the grey dust and dirty browns of its surroundings.

“But…” you mumble, looking the empty space next to it, “It’s only the left one.”

“If it’s an angel, where’s the other wing?” Sam rephrases your point.

“If it’s an angel,” Dean sighs, “Where’s the damn body?”

The three of you stand and stare at the wing. This was the last thing you expected to find. You came here for answers, not more questions.

“Well…” you shrug, “What did you two find out?”

Not a lot, it transpires. The building was just a standard boring office building, renting out office spaces for small companies. Nothing had been found as to what caused the explosion, nothing out of the ordinary reported, all they think they really know is that the initial explosion happened on the ground floor.

Yeah, right around here I’m gathering.

You glance again at the wing on the wall. Shaking your head and gritting your teeth as you tried to wrack your brains as to what the hell this meant.

“Maybe Cas can find something out?” you suggest, “If this is an angel thing, then the angel is probably the one to go to.”

“Yeah, we’ll head back and call him,” Sam concludes, narrowing his eyes with one last glance at the ominous wing.

As the three of you head back to the Impala in silence, you become lost in your thoughts.

Maybe this isn’t...anything to do with me or...Harper. That was definitely an angel wing. Then why am I not relieved? God damn I hope Cas can shed some light.

As Dean fumbles in his pockets for the keys as you reach the car, you find your eyes wandering around, looking around idly as you waited. You stop. There were two men on the other side of the busy road. They were watching the three of you, intently. Your heart raced when you realized how their faces looked. Mangled and distorted beyond human recognition, it made you queezy just seeing them.

Your head erupts with pain, you gasp and grab it in shock. Looking up again quickly you realize the men looked perfectly normal, normal guys having a conversation and then walking around the corner. You gulp for breath as the pain seems to knock the wind out of you, steadying yourself by holding onto the top of the hood.

“Y/N?” Dean notices you and reacts instinctively, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” you lie, shaking your head and opening the car door, “Just processing.”

Before he can react, you climb in and shut the door. You wish you hadn’t picked to ride shotgun this time. You can feel Sam’s eyes burning into the back of your head from the rear seats, and you could see Dean’s glances in the corner or your eye from beside you. You ignore them, focusing back on the spot where you saw the two...things. Your head throbs, you lean on the car’s frame and close your eyes tight.

C’mon God, just one thing at a time, please?

Tags!

Forever Posse: @sofreddie @chelsea074298 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @turnttover @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat   @xagateophobiax @samisimportant @jensen-gal @castiel11235   @waiting-to-find-myshadows   @19agbrown   @mogaruke @nyxveracity @cole-winchester

 Dean Divas: @annoyingpeople-postingthings @hobby27 @sleepless-sin

Make Amends Squad: @rosethesupernaturalhunter @shayla-markele @justballoonfishthings

.

[leonardsnartwrites]

When the legends take Dahrk* back to his time, so it's only Leonard in the brig when they crash in DinoLA. So now they have to figure out how to fix time with Legion!Len still on the ship. Thanks ♡

Dhark was gone. That was good,at least. The man had smothered him, magic covering him up like a heavy blankethe couldn’t shove off. He’d hated it. Hated Dhark. Hated this whole damn thing,because it hadn’t gone to plan. The entire plan had fallen apart with Mick’s bandof heroes winning and Mick not on hisside.

Something in him snorted,bitter and angry, and he leaned back against the wall of his cell as theship—an honest to God time ship—shookand… Yes, that was definitely a crash landing.

His head was killing him.

They left him there for awhile, horrible captors that they were. He could have been dead. He could havebeen starving. That crash landing could have injured him. He’d give them hellfor it later just to watch the bleeding hearts of the team flounder. He wasfine except for the headache, but he’d had that headache since the Legion ofDoom—who named them—had taken himfrom Central and Dhark’s magic had washed over him.

Mick and the blonde were theones that came back eventually, a little battered and muttering to each otherabout dinosaurs. Which he was going to ask about. Later. He had complaining todo, thank you. He wasn’t going to get distracted by-

“Did you say T-Rex?” Damn it.

“I thought you liked pterodactyls,” Mick said,an eyebrow quirked up in amusement.

“There was one?”

“She flew one,” Mick told himand jerked a thumb towards the blonde. Sara. Sara Lance. The one Dhark hadwanted to kill, because she was trying to kill him. Because he killed hersister. Because she kept trying to kill him. Fuck, his head.

“Impressive,” he drawled, whichfor him and his shitty attempts at acting like a normal human—as Mick calledit—usually meant that she’d just gotten about three times hotter. He propped oneelbow on his knee while his fingers massaged his temple. “But not right now,honey, I have a headache.”

They both rolled their eyes.

“Shoot,” she said dryly. “Rightwhen I wanted to try out the dark side.”

“We have cookies.”

“He burns water,” Mick toldher. “And he thinks Kraft is real mac and cheese.”

“Only the shapes,” Lenmuttered.

“You’re six,” Mick shot back.

“I think I’m a littlebrainwashed,” he corrected, half a confession. “Or the extra voice in my headis me finally having that psychotic break Dr. Lu always said I was gonna have.”

Things got serious. Med bays.Scans. The AI was appropriately sassy and Len decided he liked her. It? Itsounded like a her.

“They brainwashed him,” Sarasaid, horrified, as Mick seemed to lock up. Fists curled and, yes, that wasMick’s burn-them-all-to-ashes look. He hadn’t seen that look in a while.

“Is that why Other Me in myhead is so pissed?” he asked as he reclined in the odd chair. “I forgot I knewhow to swear in Hebrew.”

“Dhark’s gone,” Sara said.“Shouldn’t that have broken it?”

“It’s magic,” Mick remindedher, voice gruff and angry. “No one said that shit’s got a range.”

“There is always cognitiverecalibration,” the AI suggested.

Mick glared at the ceiling.

“More brainwashing?” Lenguessed.

“That only worked with mebecause it was the Time Masters,” Mick snapped, “and I wasn’t the whole wayunder.”

Note to self: Mick had beenbrainwashed by Time Masters.

Note to self: Kill all TimeMasters.

“It doesn’t sound like they didthat great a job,” Sara pointed out. “He’s hearing…himself?” Len nodded inconfirmation. “So the recalibration could work. Get the rest of the magic out?”

“Sounds like a lot ofquestions,” Mick muttered.

“Do I look like I went toHogwarts?”

Len would have had a thousandcomments if school girls were his thing. They weren’t.

“How do you recalibrate him,anyway?”

Mick answered her by punchinghim. Very hard. In the head.

He woke up with anotherheadache, annoyed, but with only one him in his head.

“Congrats,” Mick said. “You’reno longer brainwashed.”

“Just left in the past to die,”Len countered and watched the pain wash over Mick’s face.

“I can’t change it, Lenny,”Mick said, regretful. “But you end up a better man.”

There was a flash and things…They got fuzzy. When they cleared, he was staring out at the water.

His lips tingled like they’dbeen kissed.

[your-brother-crutchie]

Sunday 16:00

“This stranger on the street corner looks like they’re severely unprepared for this cold weather. Here, take my scarf. I was planning on donating it to Goodwill anyway.”

Aww, thank you so much! You’re too kind. :) - @ill-keep-klancing 

( I decided to do these EST because that’s where they would be but I might have got some wrong as I’m in GMT. )

29.10.17 16:00 EST

As his frozen fingers found the strings, Race winced every time he clumsily plucked at the wrong one. He was busking in Central Park and, due to the chilly autumn wind, it wasn’t exactly going well. He’d left his coat at Jojo’s the night before and his Raynaud’s disease was playing havoc with his fingers, making accurately playing his guitar more difficult than it should have been.

He’d managed to get quite a bit of money in the beginning; Race wasn’t afraid to admit that he was pretty good. However, as he’d steadily got colder and quickly lost blood circulation and feeling in his fingers, his playing got worse and tippers slowly dropped off. The only people leaving him money were his regulars and people who could see that he was physically in pain. Moving his fingers dextrously over guitar chords wasn’t exactly easy when they were white as snow and burned as though set alight.

When he finished his song, Race shivered, setting his guitar down gently as he decided to take a break. He hopped onto the wall behind him, letting his fingers wrap around the hot chocolate that Crutchie had brought him between the last two songs. It would either make it completely better or triple the burning but, at that point, Race was willing to try anything.

Clutching the drink tightly, Race ignored the stinging sensation and blew gently over the opening of the takeaway cup, not that it would do anything. He sighed, shaking his head to himself as took a sip and felt the uncomfortable warmth spreading through his chest, almost immediately regretting even trying it.

He knew that he was desperate but he always forgot just how horrible that burning pain was. In fact, Race was almost on the verge of dropping the takeout cup, shaking his hands out and squeezing them underneath his armpits just to make them go numb again, when he felt a break in the biting wind and looked up to see a boy standing over him with a large cardboard box, “Hey, do you want my scarf? You look cold and I was planning on donating it to Goodwill, anyway.”

A rush of air slipped through Race’s lips in relief as he set his drink down and jumped up, nodding profusely as the boy in front of him smiled, “Fuck, yes- uh, sorry. I’d love it, thank you!” Race hadn’t expected to find that the boy was shorter than him when he stood up but it was a pleasant surprise as he rubbed his hands together briefly.

The boy’s eyes softened slightly as they watched Race’s hands, obviously noticing his frozen fingers as he set the box down beside Race’s equipment, “Here, let me.” He pulled the corner of a woollen infinity scarf from beneath old picture frames, spacing it out in his hands before reaching up to place it gingerly around Race’s neck and make sure that it was snug enough to his skin to keep him warm.

Race blushed as the boy’s fingers brushed his cheek, immediately feeling his hands attracted to the material as he pulled his hands up to ruffle the burgundy scarf between his fingers gingerly. A calm sigh passed between them as Race immediately felt the benefit from the biting wind, even if he did look a bit ridiculous without a coat.

“I’m Spot.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Spot shrugged gently, as if to deter Race’s thanks, and watched as Race relaxed against the wall behind him. A small smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as he folded his arms.

Drawing his top lip into his mouth nervously, Race felt himself growing redder as he squirmed slightly under Spot’s penetrating gaze. He liked it, though, and couldn’t help but smile, “Race.” As he scratched behind his ear, Race turned his head slightly so that Spot’s gaze wasn’t so direct and struggled to avoid his piercing eyes. He just wanted to appear cool but this probably-heterosexual boy was making it impossible with his cute face and pretty hair.

Race pulled himself up onto the wall, reaching for his hot chocolate and feeling relief as he noticed the blood creeping painfully back into his fingers. Although it stung like shit, Race had been dealing with this for years and knew that, to get the feeling back into his fingers, he had to go through a relatively large amount of pain.

Just as Spot was about to pick up his box and turn away, he paused and, instead, turned to Race, “Do you want some company? Just whilst you’re taking a break?”

Struggling to bite his lip and contain his smile, Race settled on a small nod before trusting himself with real words, “That would be great, thanks.” He smiled to himself, tilting his head just ever so slightly in the opposite direction so that Spot wouldn’t see him. Race didn’t really know why he was so invested in this new person, he just knew that, for whatever reason, he made him smile and that was more than most New York strangers had ever done for him.

Spot scooted his box along the surface a little before hopping up beside Race, just close enough so that Race could brush their arms together if he thought about it. However, he decided not to think about it, in fear of being unable to stop, “So, how come you’re out busking?” Race looked down at Spot as he fiddled nervously with his fingers, realising that not only was he kind, but he actually wanted to learn about him.

“Oh, uh- I’m an out-of-work actor; why do you think?” Playing this off with nervous laughter, Race shrugged, making a joke out of it as soon as he noticed that Spot had started to look a little sorry for him.

An air of tense silence passed over them as soon as Race’s laughter died out and Spot obviously didn’t know what to say next, “I’m really sorry.” Keeping his gaze on the floor, Race shuddered through the horrific statement that he hated hearing so much. All he’d ever heard was, ‘I’m really sorry,’ and if he could do something to never have to hear it again, he’d do it instantly.

‘Your parents are homophobic pieces of trash? I’m really sorry.’

‘You got kicked out of your house at sixteen? I’m really sorry.’

‘You haven’t seen your little brother in three years? I’m really sorry.’

‘Your Broadway debut closed in previews? I’m really sorry.’

If he could ban those words in succession, Race would have done so in a heartbeat.

Shrugging it off quickly and fighting to pull the conversation back from the painful stalemate they’d reached, Race plastered a grin across his cheeks and nudged at Spot’s upper arm, trying not to get distracted by his wonderful bicep, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it! Something’ll come up and I take shifts at the coffee shop around the corner until it does. Anyway, what do you do?”

A careful chuckle leaving Spot as he finally looked back up at Race, he shrugged almost passively, as if what came next was nothing, “I’m at med school. I’m going to be a doctor.” He smiled lightly as Race scoffed immediately.

“Oh, wow! Look at us, a real pair!” Unable to hide his laughter, Race pushed at Spot once again as the boy grinned and reached across to push him back, “The out-of-work actor and the doctor-in-training.” Jumping up so that he was standing on the wall, Race grinned down at Spot as he rested his hands on his hips and looked into the distance in an attempt to appear heroic.

Grinning, Spot helped Race as he clumsily dropped back down to sit beside him. A curious smirk quickly lifted his lips and Race soon learned why, “Sounds like the start of an epic romance novel.”

Race, who was taking a sip of his hot chocolate at the time, almost choked on his drink. He coughed and spluttered, covering his mouth with his hand and widening his eyes in shock as he set his drink down immediately. Quickly thinking of something to bite back with, Race tried to compose himself but struggled, “You read a lot of those Mills and Boon types?” He ended up delivering the line lazily, his voice cracking slightly over syllables as he still needed to cough.

As he laughed at Race, Spot’s flirty smirk never once wavered. He only shrugged gently and made Race’s brain fall to pieces with his perfect smile, “Oh, I’ve read them all.” His wonderful laugh crossed the space as Race struggled to pull himself back together enough to form some sort of comeback.

“Wouldn’t have pinned those on you.” Race’s words were stumbled and short but he didn’t really care. Honestly, if he was misreading the situation and Spot wasn’t interested in him, he’d eat the damn scarf.

A soft laugh leaving Spot as he watched Race, never once giving him time to recover from his wonderful eyes, he lifted his shoulders casually with a faint smile, “I am full of surprises.” Spot grinned, shrugging as he sent a casual wink in Race’s direction, making him blush and turn away to hide his reddening face. He didn’t want to be seen blushing over a boy he’d just met but, for some reason, he just couldn’t help it.

After falling into a comfortable silence, Race sighed in contentment as he took a long sip from his hot chocolate. When Spot eventually did speak up again, Race felt his eyebrows flying upwards instantly, “So, I know that this is sudden but my friend invited me to this Halloween party on Tuesday. Would you like to go with me?”

Thinking for a moment, Race thought about the likelihood of it being the same party and knew that it probably wouldn’t be the case, “Sorry, I’m going to a party at, my friend, Jack’s house. If I hadn’t already agreed to that, I would have absolutely loved to!” Race smiled, trying to cheer Spot up as soon as he saw his downhearted gaze. As much as he hated seeing the boy sad, he also loved it. It just reinforced his suspicion that Spot was, at least a little bit, interested.

Spot nodded quickly, masking his face with a grin and pulling a pen out of his pocket, “Here.” With Race’s permission, he took his arm and scribbled something below the inside of his elbow, “That’s my number. Call me sometime?”

A giddy smile coating Race’s lips, he couldn’t help the small giggle from overflowing as he nodded quickly, “Sure.” Race grinned, watching as Spot stood and pulled his box from the wall easily. He couldn’t help but feel just a little bit disheartened as he realised that the boy was leaving.

“Great, well, I’ll let you get back to your screaming fans.” Winking quickly at Race, Spot seemed to take a few hesitant steps backward, “You’re really good, by the way.” This time, Spot really did turn to leave but, on the way, he pulled something out of his pocket and dropped it nonchalantly into the flatcap that Race had laid out for tips in front of his microphone stand.

Gasping, Race scrambled forwards to snatch the piece of paper before it could be stolen and looked down at it in shock. Spot had left him a ten dollar note and he couldn’t quite believe it. He stuffed it quickly into his pocket, looking down at the numbers scrawled lazily on his arm, unable to hold back his smile.

A heavy drop of rain hit the skin just below it, causing the bottom of the ink to begin to run and making Race rush to pull his phone out of his pocket. After keying the number in before it could smudge, Race smiled, taking a moment to just stare at Spot’s contact page as he fiddled with the scarf around his neck before realising what he was doing and hurrying to pull his equipment backwards and under the bandstand, protecting it from the rain.

Monday 00:00 Tuesday 19:00 Tuesday 20:00

[lovelybones81]

Unthinkable-Updated

Summary: Seven years, three movies, two people, one story. But before they can get their happily ever after, Sebastian Stan and Camille Solis must learn to trust in each other and in themselves, before allowing the unthinkable to happen.

Warnings: Fluff, future smut, Language, Angst, mental health

Chapter 9 Close

Manchester, UK August 2010

Camille stirred in her bed when she heard the front door open and close. “Cam?” came the familiar voice, but at the moment she couldn’t pin point who it belonged to, sleep was calling her name too. “Camille?” she heard the voice call out again-closer that time. His voice was so soothing and low. She had to be dreaming, that was the only explanation. It had to be in her head. Letting out a light sigh Camille tried to drift back to sleep. She had been doing that for most of the afternoon, in and out of sleep, while the television played in the background.

She felt the end of her bed dip slightly and she moaned. She lazily opened her eyes for a split moment and found those gorgeous blue orbs staring down at her. Now she knew she was truly dreaming, she closed them again. But even then her heart fluttered at the sight of him. Damn, even in her dreams he looked perfect- with his long eyelashes and lips, and insatiable jaw and chin dimple.

“I know you’re awake.” accused the voice.

Opening one eye, she realized she wasn’t dreaming. Shit. Sebastian was sitting on the edge of her bed a look of concern on his face. Feeling the heat rise to her face, Camille slightly sat up. “I was trying to fall asleep.” she mumbled, pushing herself to sitting position, leaning against the headboard. “I thought I was dreaming-” stopping herself.

“About what?” he asked with a wrinkle of his forehead.

“Nothing.” chewing on her lip and looking over his shoulder to avoid eye contact. “Never mind.” Camille murmured, reaching for the TV control next to her hitting the mute button.

Sebastian chuckled, but didn’t push it instead he asked. “Have you been laying in bed all day?” one eyebrow raised.

“If I say yes, are you going to judge me?” reaching for the extra pillow to bring up to her chest. A small frown on her lips as she squeezed it, feeling as if she was about to get scolded for her lack of motivation and activity for the day.

He shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “No. Why would I do that?” giving the end of the duvet that covered her legs a small tug. Camille gave his thighs a slight push with her feet, Sebastian grinned. Those smiling wrinkles around his eyes was the cutest thing she had ever seen on a man’s face, and he was the only one that could pull it off. His grinned faltered slightly. “You hadn’t returned any of my text or calls since last night. I was starting to get a bit worried.” he confessed.

Squeezing the pillow tighter to her chest she stated. “I turned my phone off. I’m sorry. I should have sent you a text to let you know.” sinking back down into her pillows and blankets. “I just needed a break…” trailing off.

“Yea I kind of figured that out when your phone took me straight to voicemail earlier.” Sebastian said. He reached into his jacket pocket and showed her a key. “I’m kind of glad I didn’t give this back to you yesterday.”

Camille couldn’t help but smile. “Keep it.” she said. “Usually I would give it to Liz, but she really hasn’t spent much time here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” nodding. “Someone needs to keep an eye on me right?” she said. “Just don’t abuse it.” she ordered, teasingly glaring at him.

Sebastian rolled eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Camille playfully kicked him again from under the covers. He was quick with his hands, Camille felt him grab onto one of her legs with his hand. This time when she met his gaze she really glared. Sebastian glared back. “You started it.” he declared, giving her leg a squeeze. Camille wrinkled her nose and pouted. “Don’t give me that look.” he warned.

“What look?”

“That one.” letting go of her leg and pointing to her lips. “When you pout.” he explained. Camille took the opportunity and pulled her legs toward her, crossing them, away from Sebastian.

“I don’t pout Sebastian.” she said defensively.

Snorting, he ran his hand over his hair. “Whatever you say Doll.” But before Camille had the chance to argue, he said sternly. “Don’t try and distract me.” Giving her a knowing look. “Have you been laying in bed all day?” he repeated.

“No…yes.” she said sheepishly. He raised his other eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. “I had plan on doing things, but I couldn’t make myself get out of bed for most of the morning.” running her fingers absently through her hair. “So I just decided to lay here, watching TV.” glancing back at the screen a few feet away, “The Cosby Show” on mute. She looked back at him, expecting to see a look of disappointment in his eyes, but Sebastian just sat at the end of the bed listening. That only gave her the courage to keep talking. “I did get up to take a shower, but then somehow I ended back here.” spreading her arms out to show the bed.

“Have you eaten?” Sebastian asked concern in his voice.

“I had some cookies.”

“That’s it?”

Shrugging she responded. “I haven’t had much of an appetite today.” And it was true. She really had meant to get up and go for her typical run, even go to market closest to the apartment. But when her eyes opened that morning, the only feeling she had felt was the need to place the covers over her head and hide from the world. She didn’t want to interact with anyone. The heart palpitations and urge to cry was another indication of what the day would be like if she had left her bedroom, her bed. So instead of getting up, she curled into a ball and cried for a bit. Hoping that if she did that it would help levitate all the emotions she had from the last few days, especially the night before with David. Camille was emotionally exhausted. She just needed a break, her body needed a break, her mind needed a break and her heart needed it the most. Camille looked back at him, tears in her eyes. “I did mean to get up and do things.” she whispered. “I really did.”

Sebastian brought his hands up in defense. “I’m not judging Cam.” he whispered. “I know the last few days have sucked. You are allowed to have self care days.” Getting up from the end of the bed he took a step. Camille watched him bend down closer up to the front of the bed, he folded his arms on top of the covers, looking up at her with those beautiful blue eyes. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his hair, but stopped herself. “Have you taken your meds today?” he asked soothingly.

Camille felt the tears prickle again as she shook her head and whispered. “No.” she sniffled. God why was she crying? “I completely forgot.” she confessed. Why was he so caring? She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him. She was feeling like a failure at the moment.

Cupping one cheek, his blue eyes softened. “Are they in the kitchen?” She gave a small nod. Letting go of her cheek he stood up straight. “One of each right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

With that, Sebastian disappeared out of the room. Once he was gone, Camille brushed back the few tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was a mess. One moment she was crying, then out drinking, flirting and fuck even hitting on Sebastian, then the next her fiancé shows up to confess how he wants her back, and then she is crying herself to sleep. Why would anyone want to be around her? That’s why she had locked herself inside. She didn’t want to ruin anyone’s day. She had to deal with it on her own. She had done so for so long now, it wasn’t anything new. Mentally she had promised to have this sorry day for herself before she had to go back to work tomorrow.

Camille’s mental health was not something she shared with just anyone. She had briefly mentioned it to Liz, but had never gotten into much detail about it. Typically if Camille was feeling overwhelmed or anxious she was able to excuse herself if was going to be an issue at work. She had tried talking to David about it when they first got together and it looked like he was understandable about it, but as the years went by he just didn’t bother asking about it and at times became impatient with her whenever she was going through a depressive or anxiety episode. Her younger sister Natalie was the only one she ever talked to about it, and it was mostly because she had it as well and it was easy to relate. As much as their Tia Yolanda tried to understand it, they both knew it was not something their aunt would truly ever get. Especially the decision to take medication for it. That had been one of the hardest things to explain to Yolanda. The medication. She would say: para que siguen tomando esas pastillas, si ya estan bien?

So ever since that conversation almost 10 years ago, Camille and Natalie had made a silent pack to never bring up medications to their aunt. Camille knew her Tia loved her. But Camille also understood the culture difference of having to be on medication for the rest of her life. And instead of always trying to fight it and make her understand, she just didn’t bring it up anymore. It took away from the added stress.

“Do you know you’re almost out of your Celexa?” Sebastian observed stepping back inside with a glass of water in one hand and her medication in the other. Handing her the glass and medication. “You have 2 left.” he said with a concern look in his eyes.

Camille put the pills in her mouth taking a large swig of her water. “I’ll just have to call in my refill to the pharmacy.” placing the glass of water on the nightstand next to her.

“Can we do that right now?” Sebastian pushed.

She felt her heart squeeze at his concern. “I’ll call it in tomorrow.” she promised. He gave her a hesitant look. “You can be there when I call it in if you want.” she offered.

“I just don’t want you to go without them.”

Camille reached out for his hand squeezing it. “And I appreciate it Sebastian. I really do.” feeling the tears again. She sniffled them back. He sat back down next to her. “You know-besides Natalie- you have been the first one to…to…” trailing off as her lower lip quivered.

He scooted closer. “Camille?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m sorry.” she sniffed. “I’m a hot mess today.”

“Is that why you felt the need to lock yourself in your apartment?”

She gave a nod.

“Frumos nu trebuie să-ți faci griji pentru asta cu mine.” he whispered in Romanian.

The only word she understood was ‘worry’ and 'me’. She tilted her head. “Are you going to tell me what you just said?” she asked. Sebastian gave her a smug look and only shook his head. Camille knew he wouldn’t share it with her, but it was worth a try in asking. She had forgotten she was holding on to his hand felling him rub small circles on the inside of her palm. After a few moments of silence, Camille murmured. “I don’t even know what time it is.”

“Almost 8.”

“What?!” Camille exclaimed letting go of his hand.

Sebastian nodded before letting out a yawn. “Yeah. Fifteen hours today.”

Camille gave a sympathetic look. He had just been on set for 15 hours and instead of going straight home, he came over to check on her? Now she felt back for turning her phone off. “Did you get to eat?” she asked with concern.

He stood up again. “Yea. Before I left set.”

“Are you still hungry?” Camille asked. “I think I have some leftover grilled chicken from yesterday-”

“I’m fine.” smiling as he shook off his jacket and tossed it softly at the end of the bed. He yawned again. “Muscles are killing me though.” he muttered. Camille furrowed her brows together and watched him walk around to the other side of her bed. Sitting down he kicked his shoes off, looking at her over his shoulders. “Do you mind?” he asked nodding to the empty side of the bed.

“You sure you rather not go to sleep?” Camille questioned.

He scoffed. “Why do you think I’ll be doing?” throwing his legs over the bed and pushing his whole body against the headboard.

This was definitely not the way Camille ever imagine she would get to be in bed with Sebastian Stan. Camille frowned to herself. What was she thinking? She had barely processed the conversation with David from the day before, and she was thinking about having another man in her bed? Come to think of it, she hadn’t even started to digest whatever it was her and Sebastian had shared…or not shared. The conclusion she had come to in between her crying fits after David left was she could not ruin her friendship with Sebastian, for just one night of adult fun. If anything had been cleared up between them was-yes-they were physically attracted to each other, but that was it. Nothing more, nothing else.

“Unless you want me to leave?” Camille heard Sebastian ask.

Blinking out of her thoughts she saw the look of uncertainty in those stunning eyes of his. “No.” Camille answered.

“Good.” reaching for the extra pillow next to him and shoving it between his back and headboard, trying to make himself comfortable. “I don’t have to be on set until 11 tomorrow, so I’ll get a chance to sleep in a bit.” yawning again.

Camille kept her eyes on his profile as he spoke. She found herself fascinated in the way his mouth moved as he talked, how sometimes he would press his lips together for just a split second and then his mouth would twitch to one side and how his forehead would scrunch up just enough for her to notice the light wrinkles. There were plenty of times Camille had to mentally slap herself to stop from gawking at his handsome face when she was doing his make-up or hair on set.

“You’re staring.” Sebastian stated shifting his body just enough for his face to meet hers. At his words Camille only leaned in closer, eyes skimming the rest of face. Without a single word she reached to touch his left cheek with her index finger. He cleared his throat nervously. “What-what are you doing?” But kept his gaze fixated on her actions.

“You still have make-up on your cheek.” she observed with a slight frown, rubbing her index finger and thumb softly on his cheek trying her best to remove the extra make-up. She sat up straighter, cupping his chin with her other hand.

“I washed my face before I left.” he said defensively. She wasn’t paying attention to his words, instead Camille turned his face slightly to one side, then the other to get a better look. “Camille…” he whined.

“See? Right here.” she pointed with her thumb.

“I swear to fucking god, if you wipe it off with spit on your finger-”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped her hand from his face and blindly reached to the packet of wipes on her nightstand. “Calm down.” handing him a wipe from the pack. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian mumbled wiping the side of his cheek. He looked back at her. “Gone?”

“Yup.” smiling at him before pressing her back against the headboard.

He glanced around the room, looking for the trash can and found it next to the wall that separated the bathroom from the bedroom. Camille was of course in the middle of it. Wadding the dirty wipe into a small ball he aimed it toward the can. “Score!” he hissed when it made it into the trash can. Camille raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say a word. Sebastian only gave her his perfect smile, getting comfortable against the pillows. Glancing at the TV for a moment, then looking back at her. “The Cosby Show?” he questioned.

“I love 'The Cosby Show.’ "My mom, Natalie and I used to watch it all the time when I was growing up. It used to make Mom laugh so hard even though she couldn’t really understand all of it.” she explained with a sad smile.

“Really?”

“Hmm, hmm. She used to love Claire’s character.” Camille paused for a split second. “In all honesty, Claire Huxatable was the one that made that show.”

Sebastian chuckled. “So would you sit and translate for your mom?”

Camille nodded. “Sometimes she would repeat the dialogue in Spanish, just make sure she understood it.” pulling the pillow up to her chest again she continued. “I like watching it now…it reminds me of her. Its’-”

“Nostalgic?” he offered.

“Exactly. ” she agreed. “And it was one of the shows at the time I could truly relate too.” Sebastian nodded in understanding. “And I always felt like I was getting a music lesson with every episode. That’s how I fell in love with Duke Ellington’s 'In A Sentimental Mood’.” Camille said squeezing the pillow tightly, she glanced over at Sebastian and found him staring at her with curiosity. Usually Camille would have shut up by now, but the way he was looking at her only made her more comfortable to continue talking. “Of course Natalie is the real Jazz expert. My dad and her would go crate diving, looking for old vinyl’s.”

“Does she still do it now?”

“She does. With her fiancé, actually. It’s something they can do together. Thank god.”

Sebastian laughed. “Why do you say it that way?”

“Because she would always try and drag me to go with her. I don’t have the attention span for it. And besides a part of me always felt like that was something her and Dad shared.” Sinking just a little into the pool of pillows and blankets, Camille turned her body just enough toward his direction. He looked down at her, Camille could see the wheels in his head turning. And the from the look in his eyes, she knew what he wanted to ask. The look was familiar, it was one she got a lot when she was in high school after her parents death. “You can ask.” Camille said with a small smile. A while back she had briefly mentioned to him about her parents, not getting into detail about it.

Sebastian’s eyes grew wide at her words. “I am that obvious?” he asked sheepishly after a few moments.

Letting out a light laugh Camille replied. “Everyone just seems to get the same look when they want to ask, but are too afraid to do so.”

Following her lead, he sunk a bit into the abyss of pillows and blankets, tilting his head a little. “Okay…so in that case…can I ask how it happened?”

“It was car accident, a freak car accident. They were driving down to L.A. from San Francisco to see some friends and it I guess it was dark and raining. The car flipped over and killed my Dad instantly.” Camille said as if she was only stating facts. “Mom died on the way to the hospital.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “I was fifteen and Natalie was thirteen when it happened. Funny enough we were staying with Tia Yolanda that weekend. I remember waking up in the middle of the night and hearing her cries from the bathroom. I walked in and found her in the tub…just sobbing.” she paused for a split second to lick her lips. “I didn’t even have to ask. I knew. So I got in the tub with her and we held hands as she sobbed. My mom was Tia Yolanda’s older sister.”

“I’m sorry Camille.”

She reached out and pressed a hand to his cheek for a brief moment. “Thank you.” she paused. “It was a long time ago.”

Sebastian shifted a bit, letting his head rest against the pillows above him, his eyes on the ceiling. “I can’t even imagine…” trailing off.

“It was hard.” Camille confessed. “You have two teenage girls without parents, what’s next you know? But mi Tia stepped up. She took us both, and made the choice to raise us.” she let a low breath, realizing this was the first time in years she had opened up about her parents. “And it was hard for her too. She gained these two kids but lost her sister…” A small gasp of surprise left her lips when Sebastian’s thumb wiped away a single tear that rolled down her cheek. Meeting his gaze once again, Camille got the courage to continue. Typically she could tell the story and stop after the facts of the accident. Especially because right after it had happened, she had obsessively read the news articles over and over again.

“So you moved in with your Tia?” Camille couldn’t help but giggle as he said the word aunt in Spanish. It was adorable. Sebastian quickly sat back up running both of his hands through his hair. “Did I say it wrong?” he asked, his cheeks a light touch of red.

“No.” Camille said with a grin. “I’ve just never heard you say the word before.” Camille felt the familiar flutter in her stomach as he scrunched up his nose.

“Don’t be surprised when I start talking to you in Spanish.” puffing his chest out a bit. “I’ve been pra-practicando.”

Camille groaned. “Oh god. If you ever meet Tia Yolanda, please just stick with English and Romanian okay?”

Sebastian looked insulted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence Camille.” giving her a light shove with his foot. “If anything, I’ll just blame my broken Spanish on you.”

“Ha! She’ll just look at you then back at me, and ask: Este gringo esta loco?” Camille retorted back with a smug look. “Not giving a damn if you understood it or not.” The smug look faded a bit when she felt a small tug on her heart. She missed her family. Tia Yolanda did still live in San Francisco, but Camille knew it was an easier 5 hour drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles, than a flight to another country. She missed being able to call her sister and make plans for lunch or dinner. The sudden feeling of being homesick hitting the pit of her stomach.

“We have 3 more weeks left and then it’s back to the states.” Sebastian reminded. Camille did not even bother to ask how he knew that’s what she was thinking. Sometimes she swore he was in her head. “And I would love to meet her sometime. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She is.” Camille agreed. “Strict as fuck when we were growing up, but amazing none the less.”

“Strict?”

“Oh god yes. Good luck trying to sneak out with her there, it was so bad when she first moved into the house with us. I think she felt like she had to overcompensate after our parents died. Feeling the pressure to keep us safe. As we got older the rules eased a bit. And that meant allowing our friends to come and stay the night at our place.” she explained with a look of disgust.

Sebastian tossed his head back and laughed.

“You think I’m kidding? We were not allowed to go to the mall with friends until basically the age of 18. Granted, my parents would have done the same.” Rolling her eyes at the memory. “I remember asking my dad right before the accident why I wasn’t allowed to go to sleepovers. His response? 'It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust others with my daughters.’ God I remember crying my eyes out because I wasn’t allowed to do the same thing as some of the white kids.”

She heard Sebastian chuckle again. “So what you’re telling me is if we had been in school together, your father would not have allowed a sleep over?” he teased.

“My dad would not have allowed you anywhere near me.” she corrected. She gave him a quizzical look. “How old were you when you moved to the states?”

“Twelve. It wasn’t the easiest transition. A twelve year old boy coming from a communist country to New York.” pressing lips together in a small frown and scratching the end of his nose with one finger.

“I’m trying to picture you as a twelve year old boy…” trailing off at her own thought.

“Don’t.” Sebastian responded shaking his head with embarrassment.

“Aww I bet you were a cute kid.” Camille gushed.

“I think the only one that would agree with you, would be my mother. I was the most awkward kid ever. Add the fact that I had this strange accent.” the frown growing bigger on his beautiful face. “Not pretty.” His frown twisted slowly into a smile. “But unlike your parents and aunt, my mother was not as strict.”

“There are still things now as an adult that Nat and I still are afraid to tell mi Tia.” Camille inattentively moved one hand under the pillow her head rested on. Her fingers grasped the familiar texture of her baby quilt. She was wondering where it had gone! Earlier in the day she had cuddled with it and it must have disappeared in the mess of other blankets.

“You do realize you are grown woman right?” Sebastian teased.

“I know that!” she said defensively, giving him an annoyed look as she traced the patterns of the quilt. “She didn’t know about my tattoo until about 4 years ago. Nat and I got them together when she turned 18 for our parents, and I spend the first 3 years after I got it, hiding it from her.” she confided with a laugh when she realized how ridiculous that sounded now. “Actually that’s why we got them where we got them…”

“It’s-it’s…not small.” Sebastian muttered with a lick of his lips.

Lifting her head up a little from the pillow, she noticed the flash of something craving cross his eyes for a split second. She couldn’t help but revel a bit in the look. Then slowly it clicked in her head. “Oh my god Sebastian Stan…are tattoos a kink for you? "she asked in bewilderment, her eyes dancing.

"Wha-?” Sebastian stammered. But it was too late, his cheeks were flushed. “N-no-”

Camille quickly sat up shaking her head. “Oh no. It’s too late now. Your secret is out.” pointing a teasing finger.

He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly pressed his lips together instead, his cheeks turning a darker shade of red. Camille snorted back her laughter at his reaction. Glaring, he finally spoke up. “I don’t have a tattoo fetish.”

“Uh uh.”

“I mean your tattoo is not small!” he exclaimed.

“I’m not arguing with you about the size of it.” she said a hint of amusement in her voice. “You just got this look as soon as I mentioned the word…” shrugging. Sebastian raised an eyebrow, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. Camille noticed his body language shifting a bit. “What?” she cautiously asked placing a strand of lose hair behind her ear.

Licking his lips once again before speaking. “I don’t have a tattoo fetish or kink. It’s just…yours is…nice.” He stated flustered. “And I didn’t realize you had one until yesterday and it caught me by surprise.” he finished lamely.

“You didn’t notice it the night before?”

Referring to the fact that she shamelessly undressed in front of him. She had remembered that little tidbit earlier in the morning as she was getting into the shower. Camille had never been uncomfortable about her body, sure she had those days when she felt insecure or didn’t like how something looked, but for the most part she liked how she looked, and apparently Friday night she had no qualms showing Sebastian that either. She cringed as the fuzzy memory of her getting undressed while drunk hit her again. God, she really did make a fool of herself.

“I was too busy making sure you didn’t puke to truly pay attention.” he paused. “And my reaction was-is-more about how it looks on…you.” he confessed.

“How it looks on me?” she interjected. “It looks bad?” she asked worriedly, lifting her shirt just above the left side of her torso. Frowning she asked. “Does it look like the ink is starting to fade? I thought I was taking care of it…” Camille mumbled to more to herself.

It had not been a cheap tattoo. In fact she had been saving a for a few months to get it, Natalie had done the same. They wanted to wait and get it together, but they had also decided to wait until Natalie turned eighteen. So on her baby’s sister 18th birthday they had gone into a tattoo parlor in San Francisco and got inked with their mother’s favorite flower: red, yellow and orange tropaeolums.

Camille looked back up. “Seriously though, does it look bad?” trying her best to look at it. But it was hard to do at the moment. Now she had to go look at herself in the mirror to see if it was really starting to fade. Kicking the blankets off, she was ready to jump up, but stopped when she felt a large hand wrap around her wrist. “Sebastian-” she began to protest, but stopped when she a caught the smoldering look in his eyes.

He chortled back his laughter. “What I’ am going to do with you Camille Solis?”

Camille wrinkled her forehead in confusion, yet felt the familiar tightening in her stomach when he looked at her that way. His eyes all fiery, his lips forming a small O. Stupidly she stuttered. “W-what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I need to learn how to give better compliments.” he mused.

Now she really felt stupid. But did not say anything else, she only raised an eyebrow at him, easing her leg back into bed. Once again he bit on his lower lip. Did he realize how fucking hot it was when he did that?

Giving a slightly shake of his head, he let go of her wrist and said in a low voice. “It’s sexy Camille. Fucking sexy.”

At his words, Camille couldn’t help but rub her thighs together, a slight shiver running through her whole body, like a jolt of electricity. She tried her best to push that feeling aside, and teased instead. “So it is a kink?” But knowing it was more than that and Sebastian knew it too because he leaned in closer to her, his breath fanning over her face.

“We both know it’s not a kink.”

And just like that, the mood in the room had shifted. The tension thick.

Camille swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not?” she quivered.

“No.” Sebastian said huskily. “You want to know what my first thought was when I saw it?”

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to trace the outline of it with my fingertips.” Sebastian said smoothly.

A small whimper left her lips at his words and she couldn’t help but ask. “Anything else that crossed your mind?”

Licking his lips, Sebastian leaned in a bit closer. “What your skin would taste like when I replaced my fingertips with my tongue… working from your torso all the way down your hip…” His mouth now inches from her ear.

Camille felt her heartbeat rapidly deep within her chest. Fuck. He was good. She closed her eyes for moment, picturing his tongue on her skin. She opened them back up moving just enough for them to be face to face and found him staring down at her through his long lashes, a look of satisfaction on his face, knowing his words had affected her. For whatever reason the look on his face annoyed her a bit.

But two could play this game. Composing herself, swallowing the lump in her throat and without breaking his gaze she brushed her long curls to one side. “It that case maybe I shouldn’t tell you where my other tattoo is hidden.”

The smug look he had a few moments ago, slowly faded at her words. “Other tattoo?” he repeated.

Camille gave herself an imaginary pat on the back at his reaction. “Hmm yeah.” she almost moaned.

“You have another one?” Sebastian mumbled.

“I had to put it somewhere it couldn’t be seen remember?”

Clearing his throat, he broke the gaze first, but his eyes never left her. In fact they kept going back and forth between her exposed neck, and lips. By the way he was looking at her, Camille knew he was trying to figure out where on her body she had it hidden. She hid her smirk. Okay, so maybe this was a bit fun. It definitely got her mind off other things.

“Where is it hidden?” he blurted out.

“On my body.” she responded innocently. She blinked in surprise when he cupped her jaw with one of his larger hands and pulled her face even closer to his. If she tilted her head just a bit more, their lips could touch.

“You’re killing me Camille.”

“You started it Sebastian.” she chastised with a raised eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to tell me now are you?”

She gave a small shake of her head, but did not say word. Instead her eyes dropped to his lips. Maybe they should just get it over with and really kiss and see what happens. Maybe this way it would shattered whatever attraction they had towards each other. Wasn’t that a thing that happen? Kiss and then the magic would fade because it was just about the anticipation? Not really about the two people?

But before Camille had a chance to speak up, she heard the growl in the stomach. Sebastian must have heard it too because let go of her face, tossing his head back to laugh. Whatever little bubble they had just been in broke. She cracked a smile. “Okay, so I guess I am a bit hungry.”

He continued to laugh, pushing himself up from the bed. “C'mon I’ll buy.” he offered.

Camille followed his lead “Wait-that’s it?” she half-joked, pulling her hair up.

Bending down to pick up his shoes he replied. “Yes.” then standing straight up again. “You need to eat.”

Glaring over at him, she placed one hand on her hip. “You know that’s not what I meant-”

“I know that’s not what you meant, but in the name of our friendship maybe it’s a good thing to get out of the house for a bit.” he murmured, slipping his shoes back on, grabbing his jacket. “Before one of us does something we can’t take back.” Their eyes locking from a few feet away.

She didn’t argue. Sebastian was right. Nodding she said. “I’ll change.” walking in the direction of her closet to grab a pair of jeans and shirt.

“Will you at least tell me what it is?” she heard Sebastian call out.

Camille snorted back her laughter, knowing he was referring to the tattoo. “Nope!!” she exclaimed, walking back out of the closet with the clothes. He had pulled his jacket back on, and sat on the edge of the bed with a goofy smile on his face.

“I had to try.”

She shook her head, smiling before walking into the bathroom. Once she stepped inside, she shut the door behind her, undressing. “Who knows? Maybe one day you’ll get lucky enough to find out on your own.” she called out to him, slipping the jeans and shirt on. Even through the door Camille heard him groan and say something in Romanian. Swinging the door open she stepped out. “Can you translate please?” turning the light off, hiding her giggles. But knew he wasn’t going to translate what he said.

“It means hurry your ass up before I say fuck it and throw our friendship out the damn window.” he grunted, clinching his jaw.

Camille rolled her eyes at him, pretending the words did not have an effect on her. “That is not what it translates to.” she tried to tease.

“Do you really want to know what it means?” Sebastian challenged, standing up and facing her. Camille knew his question was a loaded one. But they had already made their decision, hadn’t they? She opened her mouth and then shut it again, not sure of what to say. That was all Sebastian needed. He let out a light chuckle, and turned in the direction of the living room. “C'mon, let’s go eat.”

[machihunnicutt]

Not Selfish

Chapter 2

(Or read on ao3.)

Evan read the Wikipedia page three times in his bed that night. He knew he needed to fall asleep but he couldn't. When Connor had talked about his polyamorous friend he hadn't made it sound weird or bad and neither did the Internet (for the most part at least.) And the more he thought about that the more he thought about kissing Jared and Connor and the more he thought about kissing them the hotter his face felt and harder it was to close his eyes. He got up to get some water, tiptoeing across the wood floor.

To his surprise the light in the kitchen was still on.

"Jared? What are you doing up it's almost 3 am."

Jared turned to look at him. His face was open in a way it wasn't usually and it took him a moment to clear the emotion from his features. "Hey Ev," he said sharply. "I'm uh...I'm making ramen and a microwave mug cake."

"Oh." Shitty microwave food at three in the morning meant Jared was upset. "Can I join you?" Evan took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Sure," Jared said, wiping his nose discreetly on the back of his hand. "Do you want some ramen and/or cake?"

"I could go for some cake." Jared flicked on the radio to the oldies station and the gentle hum of some 50s slow song filtered in. He put the mug between them and started in on his ramen.

"Are you okay? You're eating your sad food."

Jared blushed and spooned some more of the ramen into his mouth. "It's nothing. I just can't sleep."

"Me too," he muttered. "Hey um..." oh God why was he so nervous. "C-Connor mentioned his um...his p-polyamorous friend today. I d-didn't know that was a thing."

Jared raised an eyebrow but remained silent so he continued. "W-what do you uh what do you think about that?"

Jared cocked his head to one side in confusion. "What do I think about polyamory?"

"I'm s-sorry that's a dumb question I shouldn't have..."

"I think that it it makes you happy go for it. You being a general you not you specifically...not that I'm excluding you. You can do whatever you want."

Evan bit his lip. "Do you think you'd ever be into it?"

"Me?" Jared's eyes widened and Evan wanted to crawl under a rock. "Oh, c'mon Evan there's no way one guy would be interested in me, let alone two."

"That's not true."

"Evan you don't have to lie to me just because I look and feel like shit."

"So there is something wrong?"

Jared winced.

"And I'm not lying. And you don't look like shit. You n-never look like shit."

Jared looked down at his ramen again and stuffed another spoonful in his mouth. Evan tried a bite of the mug cake and tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. It was a stupid, reckless thing to ask but he was glad he'd asked it.

"Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you?"

Jared shook his head. "I'm sorry Ev I'm just being a baby." He ran a hand through his hair and Evan frowned.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right?"

"I know. Thanks Ev." Jared still looked sad. He hated that he was sad. The radio continued its melancholy sputtering of old love songs.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Dance?" Jared nearly choked on his ramen.

"W-we don't have to I j-just thought.."

"Fuck yeah Evan," he said quietly, almost a whisper, that didn't fit with the words.

Jared's hand was gentle on his waist. They swayed close together. Evan was nervous that his hand was sweaty but Jared hadn't said anything about it so they just kept swaying.

"Thanks Evan," Jared muttered, and he could feel his breath on his neck.

When the song ended and they broke apart Evan didn't step back right away. His eyes fell to Jared's lips like some lovestruck idiot.

"I should probably go to bed," he said softly.

"Right, me too."

"Goodnight Ev."

"Goodnight Jared." *** "I need you to put that down and then tell me what exactly you think you're doing."

Connor put down the bottle of glitter nail polish he'd stolen from Zoe's room and sighed exaggeratedly. "I painted them black like I usually do but something seemed wrong so I took the black off and tried green but then I forgot it wasn't dry and tried eating chips and messed them up. So I went for it a third time but I was kind of tired and distracted so now I have this." He held up his mangled nails: glitter on some, a mishmash of uncoordinated colors and smudges.

"I love you bro, but you only go nail crazy when there's something wrong. You took your meds this morning right?" Zoe asked, taking a seat across from him and reaching out to wipe the wet polish from his nails. "And don't take my glitter again this shit is expensive."

"Yeah I took my meds. And I'm fine. I just..." he trailed off. Zoe's worry sometimes made him feel guilty. Connor was used to feeling guilty (it was one of his few emotions that included anger, worthlessness, and pining.)

"It's just that I saw Hansen for the first time in a while yesterday."

She finished his nails and selected a deep indigo to redo them. "And that's bad because...?"

"It's not bad it's just that every time I've tried to get together with him before he has always had a date. Evan has a new date every week now."

"Our Evan?" She said, taken aback.

"Yeah...yesterday I remembered how much I missed him."

"And I assume you're also hella jealous?"

He scowled at her. "You could say that yeah but don't tell anyone."

She nodded sympathetically. "All these dates and he hasn't asked you out yet?"

Connor shrugged, eyes on the silver glitter she was now applying. His nails looked like tiny galaxies with glittering stars. "Maybe he just doesn't like me."

"Bullshit."

"He'll probably just ask Kleinman," he muttered.

She frowned. "Do you think Evan likes Jared?"

"It's more likely than him liking me." And Kleinman's not broken like I am, he didn't add. "In any case he's not dating either of us."

Zoe crossed her legs and pulled her hair into a ponytail at the top of her head. He thought she looked more authoritarian with her hair pulled out of her face. Maybe he did too. "You know I hit on a bunch of people before Alana and I started going out. I just wanted to make her jealous."

"I don't think he's doing that."

She sighed. "Look, obviously I don't know the whole situation but I do know you. And you always sell yourself short." He looked up at her. "It's not ridiculous for him to like you. You're very likable Con."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You're very welcome. Do you want me to do your toes?"

From then on Connor spent more time at Evan and Jared's place, regardless of Evan's dates. When Evan wasn't around he just hung out with Jared. Which wasn't the worst thing in the world he soon realized. He'd actually started texting him more often too. And sometimes they got together for real, and not just to complain about being stuck without Evan.

"So when did you realize you had feelings for him?"

"Why so you can establish your right to call dibs?"

"Connor Murphy, he is a human being I can't call dibs on a human being I'm ashamed of you. Regardless I think we need to establish a timeline."

Connor laughed at the mock seriousness of Jared's expression. They were sitting at opposite sides of the couch, feet tangled together in the center cushion. Connor was doodling while Jared played some video game he hadn't caught the name of. After awhile he had paused it.

"Um...it was senior year. It's kind of stupid to say out loud because it was just this uh...this dumb little moment in high school. He knew I was having a bad day and he was giving me a ride so we could hang out at his place and he just pulled into the drive through at McDonalds and got me fries and ice cream and uh...I'd never really had someone who knew when I felt like shit and went out of their way to make me feel better. And when he handed me my fries and told me he was proud of me for getting through the day I just knew that I liked him."

Jared nodded slowly and Connor felt their feet tangle further, Connor barefoot with his toenails painted and Jared in his thick striped socks.

"How about you?" He asked when Jared didn't say anything.

Jared grinned. "Sophomore year. He climbed the tree in my back yard and when he got to the top he just laughed his head off like an idiot. I was on the ground still and I just remember looking up at him and thinking that I could look at him forever."

"Damn that's really gay."

Jared cackled. "Like you're one to talk." *** Okay so he'd be lying if he said he still didn't like Connor Murphy. He was growing on him: the way he took his coffee black next to Evan's mess of sugar and creamer, his eyes that looked intense even when he was tired or stoned, his soft stories about Evan and drive through fries and about the way loneliness ate at him sometimes. Only Connor didn't say the last thing lightly. Conversations about feelings happened when Evan was on a date and they both felt bitter and cracked open at their chests and knees and ankles. Connor would talk about the scars on his wrists and the lies his brain told him. Jared wasn't so forthcoming. He guessed, when he thought about it, he was used to bottling things up.

"I mean I don't tell my parents much. When I need to say something I know they don't want to hear I just lie."

"I guess I like pissing off my parents," he said. He was cooking a strange mess of eggs in one of Jared's frying pans. Connor Murphy tended to help himself in their kitchen. Although this time he was making food for the both of them. "That dude Evan's out with looks like he belongs in a fucking Wes Anderson movie."

"Yeah and you look like a Twilight extra but I don't say anything about it."

"You're so funny Kleinman," he replied in monotone. "Here, have some eggs a la Murphy." He put the mess of broken yolks and pepper speckled egg bits in front of him before dousing the mess in hot sauce.

"Thank you? I hope you're not trying to poison me Murphy."

Connor rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the counter. It was kind of late for eggs. It was nearly 10 and Evan wasn't back from his date yet. "I used to cook random food when I got really depressed. It was all shit and I usually burned something but it kept me from..." he trailed off, fingering the scars on his wrists. "I don't anymore because food's not cheap and my roommates would probably kill me if I set off the fire alarm."

"What do you do instead?" Jared asked, prodding at the eggs with his fork.

"I sound proofed my room so sometimes I just go in there and scream my head off. Or I talk to Evan. Or I bother you."

Jared looked up at him, meeting Connor's self-conscious gaze. "I kind of don't hate you Kleinman."

"Thanks. I don't hate you either." This felt like something. He didn't know what that something was but it seemed important. "And you aren't bothering me," he blurted before the moment was gone. "I don't make friends very easily and it's nice to have...God, I sound like Ev. I'm not trying to make a big deal out of it or anything. It's just nice not to be alone."

"Yeah," he said. "You don't have to eat the eggs just because we're bonding or whatever."

"Oh thank God." *** The more he saw them hang out together the more he thought he should stop being a coward and just ask. Ideally it would be a light, no pressure kind of inquiry, but every time he pictured himself doing it went more like "HI JARED HI CONNOR I LIKE BOTH OF YOU CAN WE ALL GO OUT TOGETHER?" Shouted incomprehensibly in the kitchen or living room or God forbid out in public.

He was having trouble sleeping again. When he wasn't worried about his sexuality he was worried about school. Finals were fast approaching and several of his professors had opted for group projects instead of exams. His groups tended to push all of the work on to him when they realized he was a good student and too quiet to protest. Evan was better at talking to people now but he was still nervous about confrontation. He was getting kind of weighted down and stuck between a rock and a hard place because he didn't want to upset his group members and he also didn't want to have a breakdown. He was walking home from the library and thinking about how much work he had to do and how lonely and weak he felt. It was getting cold. It might even snow tomorrow and his feet were freezing in his worn out boots. Maybe if he started crying his tears would freeze on his face.

"Jared?" When he opened the door he was wrapped up in warmth and the scent of tomato sauce and he could hear crackling from the kitchen. "I'm home. What are you doing...oh."

Jared and Connor were grinning and laughing at each other, both had aprons on and Connor had flour in his hair. "Hansen! You're home," Connor exclaimed when he noticed Evan standing there.

"You're here," Evan replied.

"Evan we're making homemade pasta," Jared explained as Evan stood numbly in the doorway. "We thought you could use a nice dinner but this idiot didn't bring a pasta maker and so it looks kinda fucked up but I think it'll cook alright."

"Are you okay?" Connor asked when Evan remained speechless. His happy expression from a moment earlier faded a bit and Evan felt guilty. He ruined everything didn't he? He was just a big, broken third wheel.

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice cracked pitifully.

"Oh Ev, what's wrong?" Jared put down the spatula he was holding and then Evan started sobbing. He'd tried to hold it in all day but now, seeing two of his favorite people doing something nice for him on a day that wanted to kick him when he was down, was more than he could handle.

Then Jared's arms were around him and he was shaking like a leaf and stuttering out apologies like he was in high school. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry this is so nice I ruin everything and I'm awful so..."

"You're not awful," Connor said. Jared pulled back and rubbed Evan's shoulders while he tried to calm his breathing."What happened Hansen?"

"Nothing," he choked. He suddenly felt hot and panicky. "It's nothing you guys I'm just a l-little overwhelmed s-sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Connor said.

"Hey," Jared said. He cupped Evan's face in his hands. "You know you can tell me anything too."

"I-I um..." he trailed off, blushing furiously, eyes still blurry from the tears. Connor cleared his throat and Jared quickly took his hands off Evan's face.

"Let's have pasta," Jared said and then backed up (into Connor accidentally which was awkward for a second and involved Connor's hands fumbling on Jared's arms.)

The rest of the night was better than breaking down in his kitchen. The pasta noodles were misshapen but surprisingly excellent. After they ate Jared put on The Office and the three of them curled up on the couch with Evan in the middle. Jared had the dorkiest laugh and Connor leaned his head on his shoulder in a way that grounded him. He liked them so much.

"Call me if you want to talk," Connor said when he walked him out. "I'm always here."

"What did I do to deserve you?"

Connor laughed. "I'm a mess and we both know it."

"I think you're great."

"You know you don't ruin anything right?"

Evan shrugged. It was cold and he hadn't bothered to put his coat back on. Connor was wearing the scarf he'd knitted him and his face was pink from the cold.

"You don't Hansen. You're my best friend."

"You're my best friend too."

Connor smiled. "See you Hansen. Tell Kleinman I said bye."

"Yeah...okay."

Evan went back inside and helped Jared clean up the dishes. "You guys seem c-close now."

"Yeah," he replied. "Murphy's not a total asshole."

"I liked the pasta."

"Well don't get used to it nerd." He wiped his hands on a dish towel. "Goodnight Ev."

"Night." He'd wanted to say more. He'd wanted to ask him, in a jealous and insecure way, if he liked Connor more than he was letting on.

Who was he kidding? Including him would be too much work. If they liked each other he'd be happy for them. He repeated this in his head so he wouldn't forget it.

Happy for them. Happy for them. Happy for them.

He didn't have time to worry about this. He had class and projects and strangers to date so his head didn't explode. If there was one thing Evan Hansen was good at it was evasion. *** Jared liked it when it snowed. He liked the way it blanketed the trees and turned to slush by the roadside. He liked walking in it with a cup of coffee in hand. Everything seemed stiller on nights when it snowed. It was like the night was holding its breath. Everything felt fresh and expectant and important.

He didn't expect to see Connor Murphy on his porch swing when he got home. It was late. He'd been doing some studying of his own away from the distractions of the house (which often included Connor Murphy.)

"What are you doing here? You must be fucking freezing."

Connor looked up from his hunched position. He had snow in his hair and eyelashes. He'd been crying or smoking it was hard to tell. "I was going to surprise him. But uh...after an hour I texted him to try to figure out where he was and..."

"Evan's on another date. He's got an endless supply of phone numbers apparently."

Connor laughed bitterly and tossed the bag of jolly ranchers he had in Jared's direction. "I got him his favorite," he croaked. "What the fuck am I still doing here Kleinman? Do you know?"

"Come inside. We can..."

"I don't want to come inside." He bared his teeth and spoke in a low growl.

Jared took off his scarf and wrapped it around Connor's bare neck. "Fine then. I'll stay out here with you until you do. He sat down. Connor was shaking. His hair covered his face and Jared could tell he was trying to hide his tears the same way Jared had that night at the party.

"I keep trying to tell myself that he's not worth all this. That I don't know...that he's a bad person or whatever but he's not. He's not seeing other people to hurt me or some shit. He just doesn't like me. He just...I just don't deserve someone like him." His voice sounded so broken that for a moment Jared hated Evan. He hated him even though Connor was right and he wasn't doing anything wrong.

"You do deserve someone like Evan."

"You don't have to lie to me Kleinman I'm not a fucking kid."

"You do!" He repeated and it was too loud and echoed in the icy streets, sound tangling with the amber glow from the street lamps. Connor looked up. Jared had realized they had the same weird eyes years ago but he didn't think he'd ever really looked at them. He didn't think he'd looked at the freckles on Connor's nose before either, or the mystery bruise on his right cheekbone he claimed he woke up with and didn't remember how he'd acquired. There was snot on his face and his eyes were red.

Jared had learned that Connor Murphy's default tended to be anger. He yelled. And his tears were more often angry than sad.

Connor drew in a long breath. The anger faded from his face into something more tired and vulnerable. "Why doesn't he like me?" He said.

Maybe they were more alike than he realized. Maybe Connor could understand him the way he understood Evan.

Jared leaned in fractionally, involuntarily and then stopped, rational part of his brain urging him to pause. You don't just do things. You think, you plan, you engineer your image so people can't see all the ways you fall short. For once the irrational and reckless and unconscious won. He leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him. He kissed Connor Murphy and he tasted like smoke and salt and felt impossibly warm.

What are you doing?

He drew back, apologies on his lips. "I shouldn't have done that. You're obviously in a bad place and it's fucked up to take advantage of..."

Connor cut him off by kissing him back, long and drawn out and hot and mutual and hungry in a way he didn't expect. Because it was just him. It wasn't someone kind and sweet like Evan or hot and edgy like Connor it was just him: not that nice or attractive or confident. It was just him and yet Connor's hands were on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. They broke apart for air.

A loud smacking sound pulled their eyes off of each other. Connor reacted first.

"Fuck! Hansen are you okay?" Evan was lying on his back in the driveway, facing away from them as if he'd been in the process of turning around to go back the way he'd come when he slipped.

Connor reacted first but Jared was the first to stand up. He could feel his heart in his throat. Beside him Connor was breathless, his lips very red even in the dark. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. He hated the snow. Shit like this only happened when it snowed.

He ran off the porch and into the driveway, more careful with his steps now. Evan still hadn't said anything. He was covering his face with his hands.

"Ev you're going to have to say something because you're scaring the shit out of me."

It was quiet in his head despite the fact that Connor was yelling something from the yard and a car was driving by. It was quiet and then Evan spoke and it wasn't anymore.

He uncovered his face and looked up at him with a horrified and supremely embarrassed expression. "I'm really sorry."