#it was really bad.......i should really start checking trailers before i click on things

[elizabethbcnnet]

i just clicked on the strays (2023) cause i thought it was some new horror movie and wtf how did this even get greenlighted idk what this movie was trying to do but to me it just came off as racist and in general really bad

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Crossfire

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (featuring platonic Steve)

Warnings: Language

Summary: You’re caught in the crossfire when Eddie is accused of murder.

Eddie’s whole life had gone to hell in a matter of hours. He was somewhat fortunate that this ragtag team found him to explain what was happening even if it wasn’t making a lot of sense. His mind wandered to the people in his life who were just as confused, his uncle, his friends, you.

“Shit.” Eddie sighed, his whole body sinking. “Is Y/n okay?”

Robin offered a kind smile despite their situation. “They’re fine. I spoke with them this morning and filled them in.”

Steve pushed himself off the pillar that he was leaning against and checked his watch.

“Actually, that was half an hour ago. They should have been here by now.” He noted curiously. Looking up, he noticed that the comment drew all eyes to him - particularly Eddie’s which were filled with a new kind of fear.

“You don’t think that this ‘Vecna’…?” The D&D player became more agitated as the thought of Y/n’s limbs being contorted took over his mind.

Steve’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No - I mean, I don’t think so. Besides imagine if he tried.” He mused which received audible backlash.

“Dude, not funny.”

“They’re out there.”

“Read the room.”

Steve raised his hands defensively and silenced the cabin. “Jesus! I was just saying that if Vecna came after Y/n, they’d probably knock his teeth out.”

Eddie lowered his snacks, highly unamused. “Really, Harrington? You think they can defeat something none of us can see?”

Steve, now feeling bad and slightly anxious on the matter, made a decision to ease everyone’s minds. “Look, I’ll drive into town and see where they are. They probably held up at a traffic light or something.”

Pushing himself off the pillar, Steve grabbed the keys from his pocket and carefully snuck out to his car.

Dustin crept over to the window to watch his friend leave. When the car engine started and then backed out of the driveway, he turned back around to Eddie.

“Don’t worry, Steve’ll find them.” He reassured.

Max leaned forward and sent the young man a smile. “He’s also right too. About Y/n, I mean. If anyone can stick it to Vecna, it’s them.”

Dustin nodded as a memory came to mind. “Remember that demigorgon two years ago? Most badass thing I’ve seen.”

After your call with Robin, she requested that you grab some of Eddie’s favourite candy bars from the video store before heading out to meet with them. It was an easy little ‘break in’ since Robin told you where to find the spare key and you left money on the register to compensate for the bars and bag of pretzels in your hand.

As you stepped out and began to lock up, there were a few shadows that appeared on the door pane. With a final click, you pocketed the key and turned to see Jason and his basketball group lingering at the front.

“Hey Y/n, funny seeing you here.” Jason said, casually peering around and into the shop.

You squinted at his behaviour. “It’s a weekend.”

Jason chuckled and nodded. “It is. Don’t you typically spend your weekends with that Freak Munson - sorry, I mean Eddie? Have you seen him around lately?”

“I haven’t actually.” You stepped to the left with the intention to walk around them, a hand grabbed your shoulder and drove enough force to push you backwards into the door.

“What the hell Jason?”

“Do you know that he was the last person with Chrissy last night?” He asked.

Of course you knew this. Eddie told you about why Chrissy reached out and how he wanted to help her. Then she was found dead in his trailer and all eyes went to him as a suspect. Robin reached out to explain Vecna’s involvement but it’s not like you could explain that.

“I saw him last night before heading home. That was the last time. I don’t spend every waking minute with him.” You pushed his hand away to move out of his trap when Jason pressed his free hand against your throat suddenly.

The basketball team took a step back, quite surprised with their leader.

“You know what I think? I think you and the Freak planned this like the twisted and sadistic psychopaths that you are.” Jason accused, pressing a bit harder. “Where is the freak?”

You clawed at his hands to shove him away but it was useless until a car pulled up. The door opened and someone stepped out. “What the hell is going on?” Steve questioned angrily.

Startled, the basketball team urged Jason to let go before they backed off and fled the scene.

Steve rushed over to you and placed a gentle hand over your shoulder.

“Hey. Shit - are you okay?” He asked, checking you over for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

You pulled your jacket to sit properly over your shoulder, pocketed the pretzels and shook your head starting towards his car. “I just want to get out of here.”

The ride back was quiet and you preferred it that way. Steve was kind enough not to press but he knew that Nancy could get you to open up if you were shaken. He’s known you to take on Upside Down monsters without fear but human monsters were a different breed.

Steve pulled up to the boathouse and switched off the ignition. You got out of the car and followed Steve through to the back door and entered the room. You saw the kids, Nancy and Robin and you flashed a small smile. Turning around, you saw a glimpse of Eddie just before he dove into your arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank god you’re okay.” He mumbled against your skin. Feeling nothing but relief to see him again, you stayed silent and just hugged him back, ignoring the audience.

Nancy leaned over to Steve as he stood beside her and Robin before she spoke softly. “Was it Vecna?”

Steve exhaled and shook his head, glancing over at you. “Jason Carver, actually. Managed to get to them before he and his basketball chums began lynching.”

Eddie overheard the conversation and noticed some bruises peeking through from beneath your shirt. But before he could question it, you had stepped back and then turned to the group.

“So where are we at with Vecna?” You asked.

“He’s still in the Upside Down. So once we have a way through…” Max began.

“You can kick his ass!” Dustin interjected with a clap. “Boom! Vecna’s toast and we clear Eddie.”

You nodded. “And until then should I lay low here?”

Steve shook his head, crossing his arms. “That’s not a good idea. If you stay here, they’ll think you’re in league with Eddie and it’ll make things a lot worse. It might be best to…”

“Say we broke up.” Eddie finished.

You frowned and whipped around. “What?”

Eddie’s eyes were sad and desperate. He didn’t know what else to do. “Y/n, Jason got to you. If you keep defending me, you might get hurt or worse and I can’t.”

Scoffing, you pulled the packet of pretzels from your pocket and threw it at him. “I’m not telling people we broke up. It’s dumb and I-”

“And you could never pull it off.” Robin agreed and noticed that everyone was staring at her. Realising that she spoke out loud, Robin smiled and shrugged. “I mean, we’ve all seen it right. One mention of Eddie and it’s like he’s just phantom kissed Y/n.”

Steve rolled his eyes at how this conversation was unfolding and shook his head.

“No one’s breaking up with anyone. We just avoid Jason for now. Stick to the story that you haven’t seen Eddie since the game and take it from there.” He instructed.

Masterlist here

[babiesteeb]

EDDIE MUNSON'S EPIC BUCKETLIST OF THE CENTURY!

heyooo!! just to preface this is a very very rough draft of a fic i have been working on and i have barely read over it so there is probably a bunch of shit wrong with it. i will be adding more into it and continuing the story but i just wanted to get an interest check and see if anyone has suggestions for bucket-list items.

the premise is that its all canon up to where eddie died. wayne has to move out of the trailer after what happened and steve helps him move. wayne ends up telling steve he wants him to sort through eddie’s stuff and give it to the party as mementos. steve takes the boxes and ends up finding eddie’s bucket-list that he never got to do.

click more to read!

“It’s just ridiculous, Rob. I don’t understand why they won’t just fuck off and let us grieve for a second.”

Steve always had a habit of anxiously twirling the phone cord around his hand when he talked, and this time was no exception. The whole length of cord was wrapped in a bundle around his fist for the past thirty minutes while he was ranting to Robin.

Barely a week after Eddie passed the government was already forcing Wayne into an apartment closer to the center of town. Granted, it was only about 10 miles east of Forest Hills but the feelings that came with packing your nephew’s life up only five days after they died were obviously unwelcomed by Wayne.

Thus, Steve was allotted the responsibility of sorting through Eddie’s belongings and deciding what is appropriate to show to the younger members of their group. Wayne felt it an invasion of Eddie’s privacy if he found things he wasn’t supposed to. Steve still wasn’t sure how he was the better option but all he wanted was to support Wayne.

“When are suits ever considerate? I just feel bad that you have to go through Eddie’s stuff. I mean, you barely knew the dude and it’s very likely he has the stereotypical horny teenage boy shit. No one wants to see that.”

Steve could hear Robin sigh through the receiver, causing him to tighten his hold on the phone cord. He flitted his eyes to the stack of cardboard boxes that sat unopened inside his closet, frowning at the implications of what could be found in them.

“I just wanna help Wayne out. At least we have the answers to what happened. He doesn’t even know what happened and Eddie’s body is still down there…” He trailed off, chewing at the inside of his cheek before continuing, “I just feel fuckin’ bad. You should’ve seen his face when I was loading the boxes up. He looked heartbroken.”

Steve could feel the familiar pit in his stomach open wider at the memory of helping Wayne get his boxes packed. He had never really gone through the death of someone close to him except his grandfather and he remembers just how empty he felt. He couldn’t imagine losing a child.

“Stevie… You just gotta get through it and then I can help you show the kids and then it’ll be over with. You can tell Wayne and he’ll probably be relieved and then we can all grieve together.”

He hated when she made things sound so simple. Steve didn’t even want to look at the boxes let alone rifle through them. It felt like he was given a task any other person would be more suited for.

While Steve had gotten to know Eddie a little better while fighting for their lives together, he definitely wasn’t close enough to decide who got to see what from his belongings. It felt like he was being trusted far more than what should be given to him and Steve wasn’t sure how to process it all.

“I hate when you’re right, Robbie. I guess I should get started then, huh?”

After the two gave each other their farewells, Steve approached the stack of boxes and stood above them. His arms were crossed over his chest and his fringe was getting in his eyes as he stared down at them.

It didn’t feel right. Sitting alone in a room less than a week after a newly formed friend passed and going through their entire bedroom's worth of things felt more than creepy. It felt like an invasion of Eddie’s privacy more than it would’ve been if Wayne did it. At least he would know what Eddie would want others to see. Steve didn’t know a single thing that Eddie would want to be hidden and that scared him.

Steve shook his head as if shaking the thoughts away and simply decided today would not be the day he looked through the boxes.

Maybe tomorrow.

It was nearly a month after Eddie had passed and many pushes by Robin before Steve felt it was right to finally finish the task given to him.

Steve opened his closet doors and plopped down in front of the first box he remembers packing up, dragging it closer to him by a corner. He took one deep steadying breath before he began untucking the box flaps. Once the contents were revealed to him, he immediately noticed a standard-sized piece of paper sitting neatly atop a heap of folded dark-colored clothing.

Whether Wayne placed the paper there or Steve did and just forgot, he wasn’t sure. It felt like it was meant to be seen.

Steve carefully picked the piece up and flipped it over, eyebrows narrowing as he read aloud the header of the paper.

“Eddie Munson’s Epic Bucketlist of the Century.”

It was written in red ink and surrounded by doodles of what looked to be dice, music notes, and various characters holding weapons.

There were eleven bullet points with different achievements scrawled across the page.

“One, finally see Metallica in concert. Two, make an album with the boys. Three, take Wayne to a basketball game.”

Steve laughs at what looks to be a person throwing up as well as a crossed-out basketball next to the third bullet point. What came next didn’t exactly surprise Steve but it did catch him off guard. He remembers hearing about the rumors surrounding Eddie. He remembers he was a part of starting a lot of those rumors. However, the rumor was confirmed on the next bullet point Steve had only heard through whispers.

“Four, go on a real date. With a man.”

Steve could barely get the sentence out before he felt a strong gust of wind travel across the back of his neck. Before he got too far into finding where the breeze came from, his eyes locked on the corner of his room. Something that looked like a male figure was leaning back against his desk with frizzy curly hair hanging off their shoulders and their legs crossed at the ankles.

“Thought you were never gonna open those, Harrington.”

and that was it for now! if anyone has suggestions or comments, pls pls pls let me know!!

[sassypotatoe1]

Bro not to hijack your post but I asked a popup ice cream trailer about tree nut cross contamination and they were like??? And I was like okay which ones have almonds or cashews in and they could not tell me. I have a tree nut allergy that was super minor at first, like thought I had a bad batch or too many but then the more almonds and cashews I consumed over the last maybe 3 years? The more my symptoms shifted from pins and needles and intense stomach cramping, vomiting and diarrhea to actual anaphylaxis and hives and the last maybe 6 months every time I get exposed to those nuts I have a severe reaction.

Because my reaction before I was like 19/20 was just mild stomach upset and slight flu-like symptoms that could be chalked up to a bad batch or that one time I ate 400g of cashews in one sitting and got so sick with vomiting and a fever that the only place that was comfortable was the bathroom floor being chalked up to having consumed so much, I never checked for allergens before. I assumed I didn't have any other than hay fever, and I chalked up past breathing issues and body aches to anxiety, my heart or some unknown lung condition that no doctor has been able to find.

I ate about 50 grams of caramelized cashews in January and got so violently ill after that it finally clicked, because for the first time in my life I had a rash, not just vague painful pins and needles, and trouble breathing, and my stomach was cramping worse than my pcos and endometriosis-charged period cramps, which literally paralyze me sometimes. I realized it's an allergy, so over the next few months I tried various tree nuts, even though Google said it's unlikely that I have an allergy to more than one and even less likely for more than two, and most are safe, cashews have the biggest reaction and almonds have a less severe but more easily triggered reaction, and the jury is still out on pecans. I paid attention to what I was eating when I got breathing trouble, upset stomach or body aches, and it was always triggered by foods with tree nuts in them.

Now I have to actually be so careful, because based on how quickly the cashew reaction blew up over the last few years and how almonds basically immediately started causing swelling in my throat after years of no real reaction, if I get exposed to these allergens again the reactions will be worse, and I don't have the money for an epi or especially for the tests that will diagnose these allergies.

I have to vigorously research chain restaurants to see if they use cashews or almonds in any of their menu items. I can't have Asian or Indian food from restaurants unless I can confirm for a fact that they follow proper sanitation protocols, and everywhere I eat I now have to ask about tree nuts and every packaged food item I buy I have to check for contamination labels, and the amount of places that just can't tell me if their food has or could be contaminated with tree nuts is terrifying.

I lived 20 years never even thinking about allergens, because I never had significant enough symptoms to recognize anaphylaxis, and now that I have to, now that my immune system is getting more aggressive at misidentifying things, I'm filled with the same type of rage that I was filled with when I learned that people have to choose between insulin or rent, or that a large majority of public spaces are not wheelchair or blind accessible, or that people tie up emergency chords in disabled and hospital bathrooms, or that afab and intersex people with some form of female sex organs don't get local anesthesia for incredibly painful and invasive procedures, or that people living on disability grants below the poverty line cannot have a secondary income or a spouse without losing their grants.

Disabled and chronically ill people will always be an afterthought to the general public, and I just did not expect, but really I should have, that severe and life-threatening food allergies was included in that category. But I know that the same way that women refusing procedures without anesthesia is starting to get more doctors to use anesthesia for iud, or cervical biopsy, and the same way that people boldly using service animals and mobility aids in public and aggressively advocating for themselves when their access is being restricted is slowly slowly making more of these spaces accessible, we can make our way in this world with force and fearless fighting.

When a company doesn't list contamination labels on their product packaging, read up on your local laws about it and report them, and when there aren't any legal regulations contact lobbyist groups and pitch it to them to lobby for stricter packaging and cross contamination regulations.

When a doctor refuses to run tests or provide adequate anesthetic, force them to note that they are refusing in your chart, get a photocopy of that chart immediately, and then leave the appointment without paying. Where feasible, go somewhere else. If a doctor does provide anesthetic, and does run the tests you request, and gives you the diagnosis you need, have them talk to previous doctors who wouldn't and tell them how they're wrong. If you get sued for not paying for an appointment that you walked out on, get an activist malpractice lawyer and present your photocopy of your file with the notes that the doctor refused to heed your requests and that you did not receive adequate treatment or service. Get as many people in your area to do the same. Make it a class action.

If local businesses aren't accessible to disabled people, whether or not you're disabled yourself, go to the owner. Talk to them about accessibility and how they can improve. Listen to disabled activists on what makes something accessible. Get a group together to help you cover more ground.

Join lobby groups against chronic medication price gouging or spread the word on patent gouging. Insulin should not cost like $2 to make, $8 dollars to distribute and 50 cents to safely store only to cost a bazillion doll hairs for the user. That is a life-saving drug. Cost of production and distribution is public knowledge. The only reason manufacturers get away with pricing it so high is monopolies and patents.

Advocate for safe, reliable and accessible public transport in your area. Lobby local or even national government for investment in public transport infrastructure. Fight for making it accessible.

And yes, take your meds in public, ask about allergens, don't fret about not having a driver's license, and wear some damn earphones.

Things that should be normalized:

Taking meds in public

Going out to eat by yourself

Not having your drivers license

Asking about allergies when eating out

Things that should NOT be normalized:

Watching loud videos in public without earbuds istg stop it its so annoying I don't want to hear some Minecraft dude screaming while I'm trying to eat my pancakes in peace

[duuhrayliegh]

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

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

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

[harrysgoldenline]

When In Italy Part 4

here is part 4! Um this chapter has bad words and some adult themes so warning for that! The next part will be the last, so let me know what you think! Are they end game or no? Also! If you want a personalized imagine, check out my pinned post! If you want to support me ---> please click here! every little bit helps bc im a broke ass college student so thank u to anyone who wants to support me :)

All comments and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! :)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

You stood frozen as he stepped out of the elevator, his eyes soft as he met yours, waking towards you.

“Get away from me.” you whisper, attempting to push past him and get into the elevator, pressing the door closed button before even pressing a floor, not wanting him to get any closer.

“Y/N, wait!” he rushed, sticking his hand between the doors and stopping it, his tall frame standing before you that you quickly push past, going back to lock yourself in your apartment, and lock him out, “Please, let me explai-“

“No!” you stopped, voice firm as you turned to face him, “you can’t keep doing this! you can’t keep showing up like this! So just leave me alone.”

You kept walking, ignoring his pleas as he came after you, successfully unlocking your apartment door rapidly, but you catch a glimpse of rings as he hand stops the door.

“Please.” He whispered, not pushing the door open and you saw a flicker of his eyes and you could almost see the sincerity in them, “I know I don’t deserve it, I really don’t, but I would just love to talk to you for real this time, anything you want to know.”

“and you’re not gonna be an asshole this time?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, peaking at him, “because if you are, I swear to god Styles I will give you 5 seconds to get the fuck out.”

“Promise.” He nodded and your heart believed him, so you opened the door.

You watched as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, slowly entering your apartment and you didn’t miss how his eyes scanned you quickly, before bouncing around the apartment, looking around the space he used to be so familiar with.

You watched how he headed to the couch about to sit but stutter stepped a bit, scratching the back of his neck and looking at you, almost asking you if it’s okay if he sits down.

You gave him a soft smile and nod, tucking a loose hair behind your ear and sitting on one side of the couch, thankful he sat on the other, giving you each plenty of space as your eyes met. The tension was slowly rising, looking at each other as you sat, wondering who was going to break the silence.

“I never meant for anything to happen.” he whispered, his head falling as a shameful look covered his face, avoiding your eyes, “After the breakup… I- I was just lost. I was messing up at work and I just was doing shit. Then, it was like only like a month ago, I was getting drunk all the time and she just came into my trailer and we were talking and then she kissed me.”

You just nodded, biting your bottom lip and picking at your nails, peaking up and looking at him, your glossy eyes meeting his bloodshot ones, not really having anything to say in response.

“And I just…” he started, “I wanted to feel better, feel anything. So, we just started hanging out more and I just really wanted to feel something, feel a connection. So we took a trip to Italy because… It’s always been a place that made me feel better and then…”

“Yeah.” you chuckled, “and then… Why did you bring her to our house? I know we haven’t talked about that kind of stuff, but it’s mine too Harry and… just seeing you two there? I never felt more replaceable than I did when I saw you two.”

“Oh love, no.” He whispered, scooting closer to you, a hand coming up to cup your face to help your eyes meet, but he retracted it back before he made contact with your skin, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry and I will never be able to prove to you, but that was never my intention to ever hurt you. The breakup was a mistake.”

“I… How am I supposed to believe that?” you squeaked, voice cracking as the barrier breaks, tears falling on your cheeks as you looked up at him, “We we’re together for years and you just- I mean fuck Harry! I haven’t even thought about even starting to flirt with someone and you’re…”

“We’ve never had sex,” He quietly added cheeks turning a bit red, “or done anything like that. At all, I just… couldn’t.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the confession, watching as he looked at his hands, a slight twinge of embarrassment on his features.

“Oh.” you whispered, “I know I shouldn’t be mad, we… we aren’t together and you have have the right to do whatever you want but it’s just… hard. Especially when I wasn’t expecting it. I went to Italy to try and get away, everything in the city makes me think of you, I don’t know why I thought staying at the house would be any better but, I just wanted to get away.”

“Sorry I ruined your trip.”

“Sorry I ruined your hookups.”

He let out a laugh, the smile staying a bit longer when he noticed you had subconsciously scooted a bit closer to him.

“It’s not like I ever really wanted to… Even little Harry only wants you.” he flirted and an instant, loud laugh leaves your lips, leaning forward and your brace yourself on his shoulder, a simple thing you had done over the years countless times, but still made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh my god,” you said between breathless laughs, your bodies now less then a foot apart as you smiled up at him, “please do not call it little Harry!”

“What do you prefer?” He smirked, “rather I call it bi-“

“What the fuck?” a voice spoke suddenly, both of your red eyes going to your front door and seeing your best friend standing their, her eyes wide in a mix of confusion and anger. Your hand retracted from his body quickly, your best friend looking at you with soft eyes, her eyes darting over to Harry’s and you see the fiery anger behind them, “Y/N, please tell me he was getting whatever shit he left behind and is leaving.”

“We were just talking.” You started, glancing over at Harry, seeing a bit of fear behind his eyes and your lips quirked up in a smile that quickly faded seeing the anger in y/bff/n eyes.

“What do you want to talk to him about? How he broke your heart again?” She asked, confusion and concern laced in her voice, “I’m sorry, y/n, I just… I can’t watch you go through all of it all over again and again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he quickly stood up beside you giving you a quick nod as he glanced over at y/bff/n the back at you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just showed up. It was so good to see you, y/n, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Harry, wait!” you stood up, hating the softening in your voice, “I want to talk more… are you staying or do you have to go back to L.A?”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me. And if you want me gone, I’ll book my flight. Okay? It’s up to you, whatever you want.”

“Okay… Can I call you later?”

“You can call me anytime, I’ll pick up.”

***

Y/bff/n definitely wasn’t thrilled with you.

“I just feel like this is a bad idea, y/n!” She had exclaimed once Harry had left your apartment, “He’s gonna hurt you again! What could he possibly want?”

“I dont know, I just… I dont know.” You sighed, sitting across from her on your couch just like you did with him, “I love him and I don’t know what’s going to happen but I don’t want to end up hating him.”

She nodded, looking at you as your eyes glazed over again, “Hey, okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you upset. Do you still wanna go try this new place or just hang out here? Let’s get your mind off of everything, you need a break, yeah? Especially if you’re going to talk to him later.”

“Do you think I should?"

“If that’s what you think, I think you should. You know him.” She nods, “but I swear to god if he makes you cry again he’ll have to deal with me.”

So now, here you were, waiting on him to come back to finish your talk from earlier. It was helpful hanging out with y/bff/n, listening to her advice as she gave you a bit of the reality check that you needed, making sure he won’t sweep you off your feet with his familiar charm.

Your heart rate never fully calmed down as you waited for him to come back to your apartment after y/bff/n dropped you back off after your afternoon together and you were glad for the few hours of a distraction, but now your mind was fully occupied with him once again as you sat on your couch.

The knock on your door caused you to jump, hoping up and checking your appearance in your hall mirror before swinging open the door, seeing Harry standing their with a bouquet of flowers, a small smile on his face.

“Got these for you,” he began, “shoulda showed up with them when I kinda crashed into you earlier… but I was so nervous I didn’t think about it, honestly.”

“Thank you.” You softly replied, eyeing up at him and taking them from his grip, letting out a shaky breath as you welcome him in and turn on your heel, going to your kitchen to place them into a vase quickly before going back to him, seeing him in the same spot you two were sitting in earlier.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again… and thank you for letting me come back and talk to you at all, really don’t deserve your time, but I’m thankful for it.” He began, eyes glued onto yours as he scooted closer to you when you sat down, his fingers tentatively trailing on your arm before laying his hand on your own, “I… I want you back, y/n. I want to be with you, I never stopped wanting just you.”

“Harry, I… I don’t know what to say.” You started, “I just… there’s so much still up in the air and it’s all happening so fast. Are you still with Olivia?”

“No, of course not.” He instantly answered, “we were never anything real, I left Italy when I went to the house and you were gone. I came back here and I just… I would sit outside your building in my car and just try and get the nerve to walk in to talk to you, but I was so scared of you telling me to leave again.” Harry started deep into your eyes as he continued, his own welling up with tears, “I love you so much and I was such an idiot and fuck baby… I’ll do anything to prove it you.”

Now, you two were just inches apart, his hand cupping your cheek as you leaned into it, eyes glued onto his eyes as both of your gazes were glassy, sets of eyes wandering down to one another’s lips. Your eyes fluttered up and looked at him, his nose nudging into yours, seeming to test the boundary and you simply nodded, causing him to connect your lips in an instant.

Your lips met softly, gaining speed as the passion overflowed you both as the familiar move came back easier than either of you could have imagined. You both moaned into one another’s mouths, his tongue quickly sliding past your lips as your crawled onto his lap, fingers gripping the soft material of his shirt.

Things escalated quickly as he carried you into your bedroom, body hovering over yours as his body pressed against yours, the articles of clothing disappearing piece by piece, lips never separating a second longer than they had to you as you refamilarized yourselves with one another.

His fingers dug their way into your waist as he kissed you harder, singular pieces of thin material being the only things separating you and as Harrys fingers slipped down, pulling back and looking up at you for permission, your breath caught in your throat, reality hitting you like a wave.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered, fingers removing themselves from his hair as you covered your face, voice wavering as tears welled up in your eyes once again, “I-it’s all too much, too fast- I-I, I don’t think I can do this, Harry- I can’t.”

“Fuck, it’s okay.” He whispered, crawling off from on top of you, scrambling to pick his t shirt off the floor and handing to you, quickly covering your body with it, “Fuck, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

You nodded quickly, knees tucking into your chest as you let out soft cries, flinching as his arm came around you, going to comfort you with the soft stroke of his arm and retracted it quickly after seeing your reaction.

“I-I… I just keep seeing you and her in my head.” You whispered, “…I don’t know if I can do this.”

[chuckbass-love]

Any interest in writing a fic where Chris cheats on his girlfriend/ wife and how they work through it. Also his family being involved in the fic.

I rarely see fics with Chris cheating, so of course i’ll write this. I just knowwwww Lisa would give that man child hell for it. I include lyrics from the song Battle Scars by Lupe Fiasco and Guy Sebastian, they are in italics.

I really hope you love this...

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, angst and sad themes pretty much. 

Word Count: 5,836

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @voyevoda-thejoy go check them out 💙

Get Through This

You strut into the kitchen of the house you share with your husband Chris, ready to make dinner for the two of you. It’s valentines day and you’ve not seen him for months. He’s been filming and as much as you were aware of what his job entailed, you still get upset whenever he has to leave. But after this project, he’s all yours and Dodgers for a while. You can’t wait.

He texted you to let you know that he’d be home in just under an hour, enough time to start on dinner. 

The table is set, you’re already in a sexy outfit, hidden underneath your silk dressing gown. He’s going to have the best welcome home gift ever and you just know he’s going to be all over you like a rash.

The pasta is cooking so you start on the sauce next, trying your hardest not to fuck this up. He sent god knows how many texts about how much he’s missed your cooking and you want it to perfect for him. He deserves nothing but the best.

As you’re stirring the sauce, your phone goes off, it’s Instagram and then next thing you know. You get a ton of Twitter notifications too. Way too many for your liking. 

You unlock the phone and check Twitter first, seeing as you have the most notifications for that. 

But once you open the messages that are all from the same account. You almost drop your phone at the images on your screen. 

Of Chris.

Kissing another woman. His hands around her waist. You feel sick, numb, broken and stupid. 

He’s your husband. 

Why is he doing this?

I wish i never looked 

I wish i never touched

I wish that i could stop loving you so much

You drop the phone on the kitchen counter and rush over to the sink to be sick. It’s not stopping, you can’t stop it. The thought of him with another woman that’s not you, the thought of him kissing or touching another makes you’re whole body turn cold. The puking continues as more questions and thoughts riddle your brain. 

‘who is she?’

‘why would he do this to you?’

‘how long has it been going on?’

‘how did it start?’

‘is there more to it other than kissing?’

You stand upright, taking a paper towel and using it to wipe your mouth as you try to keep the puke at bay. 

He’s going to be home soon. What the fuck do you even say to him?

You pick the phone back up to see if there was even a message attached to the pictures but there wasn’t. So you go to Instagram to check that, it’s a different account, with the same pictures.

Multiple people have these images. Multiple people know about his actions. What if they end up online? What about your family? His family? What if they see them too?

You try to calm your breathing, your heart is pounding. You can’t stop it, you grip onto the counter, one hand over your chest, as if that will somehow stop the feeling of your heart practically beating it’s way out of your chest. Like somehow it’ll make this all go away.

This robe is way too tight. You struggle to undo it, fiddling with it, your hands are shaky, your breathing turns more erratic. You turn the stove off, rushing upstairs seconds after and into the bedroom you share with your husband.

The same husband that you once trusted with your heart and life. The same husband that you never ever imagined doing this to you but then again, who ever thinks that their partner will ever do this to them? Exactly, it’s always unexpected. 

This has to be a dream, right?

This isn’t like him, this isn’t Chris. Or at least not the Chris you know and love. The Chris you married.

There has to be some kind of explanation right?

No. Stop this Y/N

Cause i’m the only one that’s trying to keep us together

When all of the signs say that i should forget him

There is no explanation for this. No explanation he could possibly give you for kissing another woman and possibly sleeping with her. He looks way too cosy for this to be just a kiss.

There’s more to this. 

You run into the walk in closet, ripping your clothes from their hangers in a panic. Tears fill your eyes and fall down your face. You can’t stop this, the feeling of hurt and betrayal, the pain that fills your body to the brim, drowning you. You feel on the edge of a tall building right now. Like the smallest of movements could happen and you would just fall to the ground. 

You change quickly before you pack everything that you can, everything that belongs to you, your clothes, underwear, toothbrush, skin care shit, make-up. The lot. You pack two suitcases and a duffle bag and that’s only the stuff you need right now. You can always get the rest if you need to. You can’t stay here any longer than you need to though.

But first, you need to face him.

“Honey?” you hear, the familiar Bostonian accent echos through the house as the door slams shut and all of a sudden, there he is in the doorway. 

“Something smells delicious, are you cooking?” he smiles, a fake smile no doubt. Bet he’d rather be with her.

I wish you weren’t the best

The best i ever had

I wish that the good outweighed the bad

You stand there, ignoring his question for a couple seconds as your gaze drops to the screen of your phone. You click on the images and slide the phone over to him. He walks closer “what’s this honey?” and he goes to talk again but soon stops when he realises what they are. 

“Baby, i-i can explain”

“Don’t even bother” 

He walks around the kitchen island to you and you move the bags out the way so that they are in his eye line. He glances over them “what’s all this? Are you leaving me? Please, don’t i can explain all of this?”

As hard as you try not to, you start to cry again. Through the blurred vision, you see him wipe at his face, is he seriously crying too? He’s the one that cheated.

“Don’t start acting like you’re the one upset here Chris. You did this to me, remember?”

“I didn’t mean for anything to happen, i got caught up. It’s no excuse but i really am sorry”

“How long?” you mutter through gritted teeth, not even caring how nasty you sound right now “it was only the once” lies. All lies.

“Don’t fucking lie to me”

He takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender and as soon as he does, Dodger comes running into the room, jumping up Chris and trying to get attention. He bends down, fussing the excited pup that has clearly missed his daddy. 

“Dodge, boo boo” he coos, letting him lick his face. A sight that not even an hour ago would have made your heart melt, a sight that would have been filmed by you for sure and posted on your Instagram for his fans to see.

Once he calms the dog down, he stands up to look at you.

“Can we please just talk this over? Please. I want to sort this”

“What is there to sort Chris? You were with someone else. How many times did you see her? What did you do with her? Is she better than me huh? Can she give you things that i can’t? ANSWER ME DAMMIT”

He jumps at the change in your voice, the shouting. It’s not like you. You’re the most calm person he knows, the one person who he’d say if you were any more laid back then you’d probably fall over. But not this time. You really are mad, which rightly so. He’s hurt you like no one else ever has. 

The man who vowed to love you until death has cheated on you.

I wish i couldn’t feel 

I wish i couldn’t love

I wish that i could stop cause it hurts so much

You pick your bags up and shove past him as he tries to answer but fails. 

That’s when he grabs a hold of your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“I saw her once only, it was on a weekend when i had a break from filming. It wasn’t anymore than that. I promise, i give you my word. It was just that once” he sighs, loosening his grip and letting your wrist go as you stand back to back.

“We just kissed at first, it was a one off kiss. She made the move on me, we were drinking, near my trailer, she was working on the set of the movie. She was assisting the wardrobe department. I kissed her back the second time she made a pass and it got a bit heated but i stopped it”

You feel sick again. Like you could vomit right now just from his explanation.

“Then the third time, i let myself get carried away. We went back to her hotel room and kissed some more, she got on top of me and we got undressed” he stops the story, hearing you sob the way you are right now makes his heart ache.

“We had sex. She started kissing my neck, she was touching me down there and I’m sorry, i’m so sorry honey. I didn’t, i didn’t mean for it to happen. i didn’t mean to lie for so long. She’s not better than you, no woman could ever be better than you” he turns around and so do you, the hurt in his eyes is clear.

“She can’t offer me anything Y/N. I want you, i love you. You’re everything to me. This has eaten away at me for months. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave me”

“Chris” you turn your head, unable to look at him right now. 

“Please, Y/N please” he takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if that is going to make you stay.

You just shake your head, ripping them from his grip.

“I can’t, Chris. I need to go” 

This is hard enough as it is and he’s making it ten times more difficult to leave. This man in front of you, isn’t even recognisable anymore. He’s not the man you married, the man you’ve been with for 10 years. The man you were so close to starting a family with.

That man is gone.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, i didn’t mean for it to happen”

He gets down on his knees, begging for your forgiveness, for you to not walk out of that door.

“I believe that you didn’t mean for it to happen and i believe that you love me but you still let it happen Chris and i just, i can’t be here right now” you pick the bags up and walk away from him but as you get to the door, you hear him crying, not just the regular kind. No. He’s screaming crying, like his heart has just been ripped from his chest, like he knows the mistake he made. 

But does that matter? Does any of that matter now? He still did it.

You open the door and slam it shut, leaving him sat there on the floor.

He knows that this is all his own doing. 

He didn’t mean for it to happen, he was intoxicated and it was all a mistake. He feels empty, without you here. Without your love, your kiss, your touch. He feels completely broken.

You on the other hand are breaking down, in the car, on the way to your sisters house, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on the road. It’s probably not the best idea to drive in your state but you had to get out. You couldn’t have waited around for an Uber. No chance. 

If you stayed any longer, your weak ass would have crumbled in front of him and taken him back. 

And you can’t let that happen right now. You have to respect yourself and your space. Regardless of how much he regrets it, he was still with another woman and that’s not right.

You pull up outside of your sisters house, unannounced. 

You knock the door with your shaky hand, trying to keep the tears back but they fall before she even answers and when she does. You sob, falling into her arms.

She squeezes you tight before breaking away to see your bags, it’s like she knows what’s happened without even needing to ask you.

She guides you inside, sitting you down before taking your bags and leaving them by the staircase. 

You don’t know how you are going to explain everything to her, this is not going to be easy.

--------------------

She rubs your arm as you finish talking, her husband strolls in with a cup of tea for you and you sit there hoping it’ll make everything suddenly become fake. Like it was a dream and you’d snap out of this daze. But you don’t. 

The first sip shocks you as the hot beverage burns your tongue. You’re definitely going to need something stronger.

An hour passes, you cry some more and eventually the tea turns to wine. 

One drink down and you’re rendering on angry now. You can’t control the constant switch in your behaviour because after the second glass, you’re back to the crying again. 

You get to your fifth glass and you’re slurring your words.

That’s when your phone rings, you hear the muffled ring tone so you search in your duffle bag to find it, pulling it out to find that it’s Lisa. Chris’s mother. 

“Answer it” your sister instructs, nodding her head towards the phone.

“Hi Lisa” you muster up the best fake happy voice you can “hi sweetie, is Chris back yet? Because we were all wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner, i’m making a cake for deserts and it’ll be nice to see him”

“Um, he’s back. He got back a couple of hours ago now”

“Are you both free to come by?”

“I’m kinda busy at the moment, you’ll have to ring Chris to see if he’s free” 

Your voice cracks at the end of the sentence, you pray to god that she doesn’t notice but of course, she does.

“What’s wrong sweetie? Where are you, i thought you’d be with him?”

“I’m at my sisters, um. I-” you can’t even finish, Alex takes your phone, raising it to her ear to speak to her for you.

“Hi Lisa, it’s Alex”

“What’s going on?” you can hear her voice despite it not being on speakerphone “it’s Chris, Y/N, received images of him with another woman, he admitted to her that he slept with someone else whilst he was away”

The line goes dead, she hung up. 

Alex, pulls you into her arms once again, cradling you as you let it all out. 

She doesn’t know how to fix you, she wishes she could magically take your pain away. But she can’t. This can’t be fixed by anyone else other than you and Chris. But even then, it would take a lot for you to ever forgive him.

Meanwhile back at your house, Chris is still on the floor. Dodger sits next to him, wagging his tail.

Then a door knocks.

He forces himself up and back onto his feet, dragging them over to go answer it and when he sees his mother, he knows. The look on her face says it all. She pushes past him, making her way into the living room. 

“Ma, i can explain”

“How could you do that to her, Chris. I raised you better than that. To even look at another woman like that is wrong let alone kissing and having sex”

“I know. Ma. It didn’t mean anything. She was nothing to me. I was drunk, i got carried away, i was missing Y/N so much”

“No excuses Chris, you’ve messed up. I can’t believe you. I’m so disappointed and confused. You’re a grown man, a married man”

“I know” 

“You need to fix this, prove to her that you love her and that it won’t happen again. Because right now, she’s at her sisters house, barely able to get her words out”

He looks down, not able to even give direct eye contact to the woman who raised him, the woman who taught him right from wrong. She didn’t raise no cheater or no quitter.

She raised a boy to a man who knew how to respect everyone around him, how to treat a lady, how to carry himself. A man who wears his heart on his sleeve and loves with everything in his body. A man who is sensitive yet strong.

“She won’t forgive me ma, i’ve fucked it. I can’t lose her”

“Right now, you need to give her space, let her breathe, but once she’s had that, she’ll have calmed down and maybe she’ll hear you out. But you need to work for this son, this won’t come easily. Remember what i’ve always told you?”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for, comes easy”

She leans in, opening her arms for her broken son, soothing him with ‘sh, it’s going to be okay’s’ and ‘i got you’s’

--------------------

“Could you ever see yourself forgiving him?”

You go to respond but you’re mind keeps on replaying all the things he said before you left, that he didn’t mean it and she meant nothing.

“I don’t know. I love him so much Al. He’s my husband. Of course i want to fight for this but i don’t know if i’m strong enough”

“If there’s one thing i’ve realised over the years, when it comes to you and Chris. There’s nothing the two of you can’t do. No obstacle that you can’t face together. He made a mistake which granted was wrong and horrible and there’s no doubt in my mind that he genuinely got caught up with drinking. But he loves you, i know he does. You just need to ask yourself if you could even try to move on”

Her words have you all in your head, wondering if you can. Could you?

He slept with her, he kissed her, saw her naked. Is that forgivable? He cheated, touched another woman, kissed another woman, undressed another woman.

You’re going to need a couple of days to think, clear your head.

Lisa makes her way over to your sisters place, not caring how fast she’s driving. You need her now more than ever. She might only be your mother in law but since you lost your own mom. She’s made sure to check on you more, spend more time with you. 

You’re her third daughter and she adores you.

“Oh sweetie, come here” Alex’s husband, lets her in and she sees your tear stained face. 

You grip onto her so tight, like she’s the only thing keeping you glued together.

“I went to see him”

You motion for her to continue “he’s not good. He’s in a bad way, i know he’s messed up Y/N. And believe me, he knows that too. He told me what he did, everything. He knows it was wrong and how mad i am at him, how upset i am with him. But he loves you, so much. You’re everything to him, he wants to work through it”

“I want to work through it too but i’m scared, scared that he’ll do it again”

“After how i just saw him, i’ve never seen him that distraught, he loves you. It was a drunken mistake and it didn’t mean anything to him”

“Nothing good or worth fighting for ever comes easy”

It’s her little phrase, if you will. She always says it, whenever one of us is upset or going through a hard time. Whenever we can’t find the strength, she comes around, speaking words of wisdom and easing us.

“I think what you need now is space. Think things over, he’s willing to wait until you’re ready to talk” 

She spends some time with you, talking it over with you and Alex. Going over the details of what he did is her way of healing you. You need to be able to talk about it out loud before you face him because if you can’t then you’re going to struggle when it comes down to it.

“He said he missed you so much, that’s why he was drinking and got caught up” more tears brim in your eyes “i love him so much Lisa” her sympathetic smile comes out “and he loves you sweetie, more than you know”

Maybe her advice is what’s best for now. You need space.

Eventually, she leaves, giving you a hug before letting you get some rest.

You get changed after a shower and head to the guest room to sleep. 

Tomorrow is just another day of thinking and crying.

---------------------

It’s been 2 full days now and as you lay in bed, preparing to sleep before the third day starts, you check your phone to find a text from him.

‘I know i should leave you to it right now, give you space but you need to know this. 

When i first met you, you came into my life at a time where i had pretty much given up all hope when it came to love, i was certain that i was doomed and bound to end up alone forever. And then i met you and everything fell into place.

I was certain from the first date, that you were the one. Sounds pretty cliche when i come to think of it, but it’s true. I just knew.

You weren’t like other women, you still aren’t. You don’t doll yourself up all of the time, you prefer to keep the natural look, which i also prefer. You don’t try too hard, you’re effortlessly funny and beautiful.

You’re sarcastic but serious.

Everything about you just made me fall deeper, i couldn’t stop myself and as scared as i was, i didn’t want to stop it. I was relishing in the feeling of how i felt around you. How happy and unstoppable i felt. Like i could achieve anything with you around. 

You are the only woman i’ve ever loved that quickly. Normally love takes time but with you it didn’t. I had no trouble. It was like loving you came so naturally to me, like it was second nature.

Whilst i was away filming, i missed you so much and it had only been a couple weeks, i didn’t want to bother you too much, which is no excuse for how i acted but even so. I let myself get carried away with another woman who at a time of loneliness, gave me attention. It wasn’t right, it was wrong, so wrong and it’s forever going to remain the biggest mistake of my life.

I never wanted to hurt you, but i did. I’m supposed to be your husband, you’re supposed to be able to trust me and yet i snapped that trust into a million pieces. I let you down, i made you cry, i made you question who i was and why you even married me. I made myself unrecognisable in your eyes and that thought alone, makes me sick to my stomach, it makes me angry. Angry at who i let myself become.

Because i wasn’t raised to treat women that way. 

But you know as well as i do that it was nothing but a drunken mistake, a mistake that for as long as you’ll let me, i’ll spend forever trying to make up for. 

You mean too much to me for me to let it go. You’re my whole world. You make me the happiest man alive, you make every day worth living to the fullest. You make me a better person.

Y/N, i love you, it was once and it will never happen again. I want to make this work. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right this second and run back to my arms but even if it’s just a talk at first. One step at a time, i’m here and i want to make it work.

I love you with all my heart, honey. I want you back. I want to prove to you that you can trust me. I want to try. Anyway, you should get some sleep, i’ll see you whenever you’re ready. Love you x’

You wipe away the tears that fell whilst reading his message.

He’s never done anything like that before, whenever you’ve had a fight, he’s emotional and apologetic and he tries to make it right but right now. You’re seeing a different side to him.

You want nothing more than to go back home now. Slip into bed with him and have him wrap his arms around you tight, kiss your forehead and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep but you can’t. 

Maybe in a couple of days.

-------------------

You sip at your coffee, staring into space, your mind going over everything that you want to say to him.

You’ve decided that today is the day. After 3 days apart, you’re going to talk to him. 

It’s time.

You snap out of the daze, thanks to Alex clicking her fingers and asking some questions about breakfast to which you decline. You can’t even think about eating right now. It’s the last thing on your mind.

“I think i’m gonna head out”

“Are you sure you wanna do this today? There’s no time limit Y/N”

“No, i want to do this”

She hugs you goodbye, letting you know that you’re welcome to return afterwards, an offer you accept. Even if this chat goes well, you can’t just sleep there tonight, you’ll still need more space.

You get into your car and let out a deep breath that you’ve held in for days, it’s been making you tense. A feeling you still have and can’t shake, it’s weighing you down. The stress.

It doesn’t take long to get back home. You park up and let yourself in the house, you spot the mail on the floor so you bend down to pick it up and as you stand, he’s stood there, in nothing but his boxers. He’s just woken up.

“I didn’t think i’d see you for a long time” he mumbles, looking down at his bare feet “yeah well, we have a lot to talk about” he nods, gesturing for you to lead the way to the lounge.

You both sit down after he makes you a drink. Neither of you really say a word, just sitting there in silence for a couple of minutes. 

But eventually he breaks it.

“I’m sorry. I know those words get tossed around a lot like they don’t mean a thing but they do to me and i’m so so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean what i did and you didn’t deserve what i did. It was a mistake and i want to prove that it was a mistake and that i love you and only you”

“But how do you expect us to move past this Chris, to move forward?” a serious question that he looks dumbfounded by “i don’t expect anything Y/N. But to answer your question, i think that with time, talking and working together, we can do this, we can move forward”

“But how? How can that ever happen? And why should i agree to that?”

“Because i’m your husband, i’ve not acted like that lately but i am. I’m your husband and i love you and i swear to you right now that it’ll never happen again”

He glances over at you, resting his hand on yours and you hold it, letting him in a little.

“I love you too” 

Your way of letting him know that his wife hasn’t left him, his wife is still here. You’re still here.

“Do you want me? Do you want to work to fix this, to let me fix this?”

“I do”

You shock yourself with your response. It’s not the route that everyone would take. Most women would leave, never look back and do better. But this is different. You’re married to this man, you’ve spent 10 years building a life with this man, preparing to start a family. You can’t give up so easily. Even if it isn’t the way everyone else would handle it. 

After all though, even Alex said it. There is nothing you and Chris can’t get through.

You’ve had many ups and downs, more than a rollercoaster has but you pushed through. 

Like the time that you almost broke up after a year, because long distance just wasn’t working. You were both struggling. He was away filming for Marvel and you were living in London, getting your degree. 

Eventually though, you decided that you loved each other too much to throw it away. 

Or the time that your mom passed and you were turning your back on everyone who cared for you. Snapping at Chris way more than usual. You said some harsh words to him one day and he didn’t speak to you for days. He was mad. Hurt. 

And of course there have been more occasions where you’ve argued or had limits tested, buttons pushed. But it was always saved. This isn’t a lost cause now either, it can be fixed.

“I hope you can forgive me”

“I can’t promise anything Chris. But i can try to work it out”

He rests his forehead to yours, the pair of you sigh before he presses a kiss to your lips. 

A kiss that makes your body shiver, the fireworks are still there. His love, it’s still there. It might actually all be okay. Soon.

----------------------

* A year later*

You take a seat on the comfortable chair, for the last time. A mixture of feelings fill your body. Nerves, happiness, hope and optimism. 

“I understand that today is our last session, how do you feel these sessions have gone. Chris?”

“I think that they’ve gone well. They’ve certainly helped us. I feel that i’m slowly gaining trust back”

“How about you Y/N?”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s definitely been a hard journey but a positive one nonetheless. It’s helped with getting a more in depth look as to why he cheated. I certainly feel more at ease with him now”

If someone would have suggested marriage counselling to you just weeks after Chris cheated, you’d have laughed at them and said no way. But you don’t know why you’d have done that when it’s seemed to work wonders for the two of you.

After that talk a year ago. You went back to your sisters, took more time for yourself and eventually he asked you out, on a date. He wanted to start over, spend time with you and get to know you as if it was the first time all over again.

But once you worked your way into you moving back in, Lisa suggested marriage therapy. And now you’re on your last visit. You definitely trust him more now than what you did before. Because you’ve had time to spend more hours together, more time off work to bond all over again. 

“Where are you at now, in your mindset?”

“I’m at the stage of trusting him again, slowly but surely it’s happening. I forgive him. I forgive his mistakes and i forgive myself too, for taking him back. Because i think for so long i beat myself up about it but i realise that i’m human, he’s my husband and to let him go would never have been easy. But i’m glad i didn’t, i’m glad i stuck with him and i feel like we’ve come out the other side stronger”

“I couldn’t agree more” Chris says as she turns to him, raising her brow as if to ask him the same question.

“I forgive myself too, for doing what i did and i let it go, i’ve stopped letting it weigh me down. We’re doing okay, it’s nowhere near where we want to be or how we used to be but we’re getting there, one day at a time”

The session eventually ends, leaving you feeling very weird. Like it’s the end of a chapter. 

The first proper start to the rest of your lives, after everything. 

And you’re feeling very positive about the future. As is he. You see a future, there are rainbows at the end of dark times and it’s possible. Anything is possible when you work together as a team.

“I love you” he says as you both get into his car, before he turns the key in the ignition.

“I love you too Chris”

“We’re going to be okay aren’t we?”

“We are”

---------------------

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[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

Years passed them by. It’s funny how that happens when no one in the house has a distinct schedule to follow. 

The hours blending together was actually really good for them as vigilantes. People couldn’t just plan around their normal patrolling hours.

Also, it meant that they could take days off without anyone thinking much of it.

Like today.

He glared at his reflection, touching his hair for the millionth time in an attempt to fix it. Or, rather, un-fix it. He was going for a messier look, why couldn’t he just get it to cooperate?

He gave his wife a pleading look. “Help?”

She clicked her tongue and looked him up and down a few times to get a gauge for his outfit (which he had purposely made too vague for her to get an idea of what they were doing) then rested her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d love to help…”

“But…?”

“But I can’t use my expertise unless I know where we’re going. There’s certain looks for different occasions, after all.”

He sighed. “C’mon…”

She bit her lip. “Fine. Just tell me how formal I need to be.”

“Casual…” He hesitated as he mulled it over. “But not jeans casual, more like day-dress casual. And wear darker colors, you could get stains on it.”

“There, was that so hard?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Considering I’m sure you’ve now guessed the surprise, I’m going to say yes.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

He pouted. Man. He’d been so careful about keeping everything a secret from her. It was their tenth anniversary, he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d pulled out all the stops, even using cash for the tickets so she wouldn’t have an easy way to trace the payments.

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

Then, she laughed and he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she’d found out. The smile was worth it.

She reached up and started running her fingers through his hair. “As always, your problem is that you use too much hair gel… you never learn, do you…?”

“Maybe I do it on purpose to make you mess with my hair.”

She gave him a skeptical look and then pulled away. “Done. Time to get ready for… a carnival…? No… a circus.”

He pouted.

Marinette gave him another one of those laughs before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Two hours later they sat in a circus tent. Front-row seats, of course, they weren’t stingy.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for everything to start. He stole some of her popcorn and smiled at the halfhearted glare he earned. His smile dropped when she dropped some onto his head. He pulled away from her to try and pick the pieces out.

“C’mon, Mari, my hair took so long. The paparazzi always checks on us on our anniversaries. I’m a model, you can’t do this to me --.”

And then the lights dimmed. And the ringmaster walked out.

The both of them tensed. The crowd was buzzing with excitment, but the two vigilantes gave each other wary looks. The ringmaster seemed almost anxious, his knuckles white on his cane.

Still, he gave a brilliant smile to the crowd as he announced the first act.

They relaxed the longer they watched. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, the contortionist was absolutely fine. So was the person doing aerial silks, and the clowns, the snake charmer…

Maybe the ringmaster was just new. He seemed to be growing more and more confident with each act. False alarm.

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

Marinette murmured something about their outfits that he didn’t catch but knew was insulting.

The young performer smiled and waved to the crowd, then started climbing the opposite ladder as his parents.

The mom grabbed ahold of the trapeze and smiled as she hooked her knees over the bar, then held her hands out for her husband. The man jumped out and caught her hands.

And then the wire snapped.

The couple barely had a chance to scream before they hit the dirt.

The tent was completely silent.

And then the chaos started. Parents rushed to cover their kids’ eyes, people stumbled over each other as they ran, others surged forward to see better.

He could feel Marinette hop the railing in front of them to go check their pulses. There was no need, everyone could see it plainly, but she still tried.

Adrien didn’t move, his eyes locked on the kid.

He was standing there. He was hugging himself tightly, shaking, tears spilling over his cheeks.

He needed help.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. Marinette was pulling him out of the tent. He didn’t want to leave the kid alone but he couldn’t do that as Adrien Agreste. They needed to transform.

It took way too long to find a hiding place because people were already hiding in every obvious place they could think of. After a while they just broke into a trailer and dropped some money on the counter as an apology, unable to waste any more time.

They ran back into the tent and found that, to their horror, the police were there already.

Marinette mumbled a curse. “You deal with the kid, I’m going to steal some evidence before they get rid of it all.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then practically disappeared.

Adrien found his way over to the child, who had been covered in a shock blanket. They flinched when he got closer and he gave his most award-winning smile as he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, I promise.”

They looked kind of skeptical, but they did scoot over a little on their bench so he could sit down.

He sat as far away as he could, setting his baton at his feet carefully. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

His eyes never wavered from the front of the tent. It was like he was waiting for something or someone, but Adrien couldn’t guess what.

“Dick.”

“Well, Dick, do you have any family that I can take you to?”

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

He followed his gaze to the door and mulled everything over.

The kid didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, the shock was wearing off but it would still make the passage of time kind of weird for him. Adrien could take the time to think his next words through.

He’d met kids who had lost their last remaining family members before. Sometimes Marinette and Adrien just couldn’t get there in time and she wouldn’t be able to bring them back. It was an inevitable and unfortunately common part of their jobs. But every single time felt like a punch to the gut.

But he couldn’t let that show, not really.

He watched the kid out of the corner of his eyes. You always base your approach on how the kid is reacting in the moment. Some wanted open comfort, but this one didn’t want that if the way he’d flinched when Adrien had come close was any indication. Others wanted to just talk, also not going to happen considering the short answers he’d been given thus far. This kid seemed to just want to be left alone, but leaving a child in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

So, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed. “I’m really sorry about what happened, these kinds of accidents --.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Dick hugged the blanket tighter around himself. “There was two guys. Mean-looking. Tried to get Mr. Haly to do some… protection payments? Left all mad and stuff. Said they would get paid or get payback.”

He was so shocked that the kid had given an answer with more than a few words in it that his brain buzzed right past the information he was given and he had to backtrack to actually process it.

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

“Did they mention any names?” He asked quietly, fighting to keep his voice level. This was still a kid who needs help, he couldn’t allow his anger to mess that up.

“Zucco.”

Adrien filed that information away for later and then gave the kid a once-over. They were no longer staring at the door, instead just fidgeting under their blanket. It was good that they were coming out of shock, but he doubted that Dick would see it that way. The numbness would be wearing off soon, and the feelings that would come to take its place would be painful.

He did the only thing he could think of: try and distract the kid. Good to see he’s passing on the unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Hey, are you going to stay in the circus?”

“Can I?” Said Dick. He didn’t seem all that excited, just confused. As if he hadn’t thought that an option.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, there’s that whole thing about ‘running away and joining the circus’. Even if they force you into an orphanage, you can probably just come back here.”

“I hear orphanages suck.”

True. He doubted that Dick would get the mental health treatment he needed (if he got any at all) and the money at those kinds of places were always stretched thin, especially in Gotham. He didn’t like the idea of sending the kid there, but what other choices did he have?

Before he could really think of an answer a hand clapped itself over his shoulder.

He barely even looked back. He knew who it was going to be. He fought back a groan.

“Ross,” he said, the smile on his face becoming more strained. He wasn’t going to fight in front of Dick, the kid was already stressed enough. “Nice to see you again.”

The cop didn’t seem all that concerned about niceties, his grip tightening on Adrien’s shoulder. “Get away from my witness.”

“He has a name. And he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

Marinette popped up out of nowhere, arms crossed over her chest as she openly glared at the officer. “You guys should keep better track of the evidence you actually do have, someone might take it.”

Officer Ross went pale and then ran to his partner to ask where the evidence was.

Adrien was also pale, though for different reasons. This kid didn’t know that the police were corrupt and that telling them anything would likely end in him getting killed? He couldn’t let that happen. Where could he keep him that they wouldn’t check? An orphanage or the circus wouldn’t work, those would be the first places they’d go…

He brought a smile to his face as he carefully leaned towards the kid. To his delight, he didn’t flinch or lean away. Progress!

“Hey, I’ve got some friends that I think I can give you to. Good people. They’ll take care of you until we can find something more permanent, sound good?”

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

Adrien carefully scooped the kid up in his arms and looked at his wife. “I’m going to take him, you can go home for the night and relax.” He sent her a discreet wink.

She smiled faintly and gave Dick a tiny wave before slipping out of the tent.

Good. She’d understood.

~

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

Adrien’s wink had meant ‘Get home and brush up on your acting skills because we need to sell this’.

She had thought his wink had meant ‘It’s our anniversary and we shouldn’t be working anyways. Go ahead and head home, we’ve already done too much and I want to relax with my darling wife’.

So, when she’d gotten home she’d detransformed and slipped into some comfy pajamas and plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV.

And then the door had opened.

She’d smiled and poked her head up. “Back already? That was quick --.”

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

Tikki gave a quiet gasp of surprise and zipped between the couch cushions.

Her husband smiled. “Hey, can I cash in a favor?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and then pursed her lips tightly. She couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, because now that she thought about it they really didn’t have any other options (kids have a tendency to have no filter and this one seemed to lack any common sense at all if she was judging by his outfit)...

Didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter. They should have had more of a conversation about this than a wink, and she was going to tell him that:

“I don’t know, Chat, my husband isn’t here right now. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to discuss with your partner.”

Adrien winced almost imperceptibly and had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Please, I have nowhere else I can take him.”

She bit her lip and looked at the kid, then squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a more selfish reason that they both wanted to do this…

They wanted kids. It had just never really been an option for them. If she wanted to get pregnant, she would pretty much have to give up crime-fighting for those nine months (and possibly permanently, that stuff has long-term effects). They couldn’t really bring themselves to adopt, either, because their lives were hectic and every single book in the world says that adoptees need a stable home.

She couldn’t let their wishes cloud their judgment. She was supposed to be the rational one. They would certainly mess this kid up, taking him wasn’t an option…

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

And it was kind of like the universe was dropping Dick into their laps…

Dick started to sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. Damn. She’d taken too long and now he felt rejected.

Her heart clenched. The kid didn’t deserve this...

“I… we can take him… but only temporarily. We need to find a better home for him eventually.”

It was best that none of them got their hopes up. This wasn’t a good solution, just the only one they could think of at the moment. At some point they’d think of a better one, and they’d have to do that.

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

Marinette slowly walked over and leaned down slightly to be at the kid’s eye level. “I’m Marinette Agreste. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Richard. You can call me Dick, though.”

Listen. She wasn’t proud of what she’d said. But she’d never heard it before -- she was far less social than Adrien was -- and, really, how do you get the name ‘Dick’ from ‘Richard’?

“I don’t think you understand how much I cannot do that.”

Adrien had had to set Dick down, he was laughing so hard.

~

When he came home (as Adrien, this time), he was surprised to see Marinette stress baking.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, adopting a child is a stressful situation even if you had been expecting it. And they definitely had not been expecting it.

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

She clicked her tongue. “Are you just going to watch me bake or are you going to come inside? Or do I have to make a ‘look what the cat dragged in’ joke everytime I see you, now?”

He smiled and took a seat on the counter. “What’re you making?”

“Cookies.” She turned around for some flour and then sent him a half-hearted glare when she saw him sitting next to it. “I was using that counter.”

“Unfortunate.”

Marinette clicked her tongue again and then moved to another spot. “When...” She grimaced a little. “When… the kid wakes up from a nightmare -- because there’s no way that he wouldn’t have one after tonight -- I’d like to at least have something sweet ready for him. I know we’re not his parents or whatever, but he should at least feel welcome while he’s here.”

He sobered a little, pulling a knee to his chest. “The whole vigilante thing… we’re going to have to put it on hold for a little while, you know…”

“There’s no way we can properly take care of a kid and be Chat Noir and Ladybug. Or, at least, we’d need to make some changes.” She procured a whisk out of seemingly nowhere and started whisking the batter.

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

“We could take shifts. I’d take night shifts as Ladybug and day shifts parenting the kid. You do the opposite.”

“We’d burn out,” said Adrien with a sigh.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Give the city over to Superman? Guy is shady enough as it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not shady, you just can’t handle people being nice to you.”

“MY POINT IS that we can’t just stop protecting the city. Especially not if the mob is going after circuses of all things.”

“Yeah, why are they doing that? Is there really money from circuses? Aren’t they all going out of fashion because of that whole ‘animal abuse’ thing most of them have going on?”

“As they should,” she murmured. She finished whisking and started searching for something in the drawers. She procured a scoop and started making rows of cookies. “But, probably, smuggling. No one bats an eye when circuses cross borders, that’s kind of their whole thing.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Still seems like a hassle, especially now that they’re probably going to be more heavily regulated because those people died.”

“Well, hopefully their sacrifice won’t be in vain. The bit of trapeze wire I stole from the police might give us some leads on the guy’s pseuds.”

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

She shrugged and set the cookies in the oven. “Kinda. He hasn’t done anything in three months, so he’s due any day now. I’ll talk to him about it after saving whoever he captured this time… unless you want to talk to him instead?”

He grinned. “No, I could never go instead of you. You like making fun of his outfit too much.”

“Awwww, thanks, Chaton,” she cooed. She took a seat next to him and pressed a short kiss to his lips. “You know me so well.”

“Well, we’ve been partners for fifteen years. You’d hope I’d know you by now.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into him. She watched the timer tick down for a little while in silence, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“I mean, even if the trapeze was sabotaged, what are the chances that the acid is something special that we can trace to him? One of us is going to have to go undercover.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave Dick alone?”

“There’s no way Zucco is only going after this one place. We can’t take back what’s happened to him, but we can at least make sure he’s the only one to have to go through this.”

Adrien frowned. She was right, though he hated it. While they had given themselves the obligation of taking care of Dick, they couldn’t just drop everything for him. Especially considering their jobs.

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

“Well, I hear that the circus is looking for new trapeze artists.”

~

She smiled as she set the last of the cookies in the Tupperware and started heading towards Dick’s new room.

Her conversation with Adrien had gone a lot better than she was expecting, honestly. She’d explained her reasoning for why it would be safe now and he’d, however reluctantly, agreed that she’d made sense.

She decided she’d wait a few days for everything to end up in the news properly before asking to join the circus. After all, it would be suspicious if she called just a few hours after a tragedy.

She stopped outside the former guest room and considered knocking… and then decided she’d better not. On the off chance that Dick wasn’t having a nightmare, she didn’t want to wake him.

She pressed the door open and then stopped cold when she saw that the kid was crying.

Marinette glanced behind her, wondering if she could get away with just walking past and acting like she was going to the bathroom or something. She wasn’t good with emotions, not with people close to her. Random people on the street were fine, people she’d never have to interact with again were fine, but this…

She was not nearly as good as Adrien… but Adrien was asleep, the fucker...

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

She winced mentally and reached along the wall for the light. “Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

The light flicked on and she saw Dick duck his head so his hair would hide his face.

“I brought cookies,” she said awkwardly as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just went with chocolate chip.”

He nodded slightly and mumbled his thanks as he took the Tupperware from her.

She bit her lip as he nibbled at her cookies, and then couldn’t help but smile at the way his posture relaxed a little.

“These are good.”

“My parents were bakers. I’d have been disowned if I couldn’t make chocolate chip cookies.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

She floundered again in the new silence. There’s a difference between comfortable silences and awkward ones and this was definitely feeling more on the awkward side.

“I could teach you to bake, if you’d like. I doubt you had time to learn on the road.”

He hesitated. “I’d burn the place down.”

“That’s okay. If I could teach Adrien to cook then there’s hope for anyone.”

She had not, in fact, been able to teach Adrien to cook. He had set the entire kitchen on fire in what they now called The Brownie Incident… but Dick didn’t need to know that.

He smiled a little more and leaned back against the bed frame, still eating cookies. He had to be on his third one by now. She wasn’t going to call him out on it, though.

She glanced him over. He was no longer really hiding his face, and the tears had stopped sliding down his cheeks. He seemed content. She didn’t want to drag any feelings back, but...

“Would you like to talk about your nightmare?” She asked quietly.

“No.”

She winced internally. “Okay. Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Marinette let a little bit of surprise show on her face for just a second before slowly scooting over to lay next to him. She took a cookie he offered her and closed her eyes, relaxing a little.

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. Do you want that baking lesson now?”

Dick giggled a little. “But we already have cookies…”

“Well, we don’t have any cakes, now, do we? Or brownies. And there’s other types of cookies!”

She peeked an eye open and couldn’t help but smile a little at the grin on the kid’s face at the mention of all the possibilities.

Then he gave her a suspicious look. “Are you trying to fatten me up like an evil witch?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I adopt little circus kids and fatten them up to eat. The entire house is actually made of candy.”

To her surprise and slight horror, he actually brought the corner of his blanket to his mouth. Then he spat it out. “Liar!”

“I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Moving on. “So, about that baking thing, how do brownies sound?”

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her pajama shirt and pulled her out into the halls with a bright smile. She had to do a half-jog to keep up with him.

“Shhhh, Mister Adrien is asleep!” He stage-whispered.

She scoffed. “Me?! You’re the one running!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

Marinette clicked her tongue once and allowed him to pull her into a full on jog as they raced through the house. Really, it was a testament to how tired he was that Adrien didn’t wake up.

She grinned and offered him a hand to get up on the counter, and then was reminded of the fact that he was a literal trapeze artist as he vaulted off of her hand and jumped over her head to get to it.

She whispered a quiet “holy shit” in English, then covered her mouth with her hand. She and Adrien had a sort of unspoken rule that you can only curse in English, it’s just a weird thing that bilingual households do where cursing in the second language just doesn’t count, but now this was an actual kid who spoke (as far as she was aware) only English. She can’t teach him curse words!

But he didn’t seem to hear it, instead smiling as he reached towards the sink and started cleaning his hands.

She washed her hands after him and then started pulling down things to make brownies. Should she do chocolate chips or just cocoa powder…?

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

“I’m just messing with you. I already know.”

Oh thank fuck.

Well, maybe not. She was kind of glad that he was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her, but… the idea of him secretly being a little shit, while not necessarily surprising, was a bit worrying.

“Okay… good? Just… don’t swear in front of Adrien. I don’t really care, but if he hears you he might think I taught you… so it’s just our little secret, okay?”

He smiled and made a zipping motion across his lips. She copied the motion.

Aw, she’d almost forgotten how cute kids were when they weren’t in dangerous or sad situations.

The microwave beeped and she hummed as she combined the butter, cocoa, and sugar. She stirred a bit and then handed Dick the eggs.

“Here, you can crack three of them into the bowl. Do you know how to do that?”

He huffed. “Yes!”

He, in fact, did not know how to do that.

She watched in open-mouthed horror as he attempted to just pull the egg open without cracking it.

“N… no, sweetie. You need to break it on the counter, first.”

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

Marinette wiped some egg off of the front of her shirt and then took a few breaths to steady herself. Now that the shock had worn off, she was very tempted to laugh and she was not going to do that to this poor, confused kid.

“I think I did it wrong.”

She snickered and then coughed to cover it up. “I… yes. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He gave a tiny smile as she took his hand and taught him how to crack an egg. He repeated the process with the other two eggs and she worked at cleaning up the mess he’d made.

… how the fuck was there egg on the wall? That was a good seven feet away from the island they were cooking on. Sure, he had to be strong to be an acrobat, but what the fuck?

She sighed and set the napkin done now that he was done and smiled as she added the vanilla, salt, and flour.

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said, 

Big mistake.

Dick took her words to heart, and she watched as he stirred madly, batter flying everywhere.

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

She managed to stop his hand and sent him a tiny glare.

“I'm starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Whaaaat? No.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and then gasped when he lobbed a tiny bit of batter at her shirt.

“Oops,” he said, giving her a feral grin.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile back… then she reached past him and grabbed a handful of flour. She flicked her fingers and smiled when it got on his face.

He pouted and started rubbing his eyes. “Ow…”

Panic.

“Oh, sorry, did I get it in your eyes?” She leaned down. “Let me see.”

He nodded and slowly brought his hands away from his face and she checked his eyes with her fingers carefully --.

Only to feel an egg smash itself on top of her head.

She wiped some egg from her face and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll get you for that one, you traitor!”

He squealed and set the batter down, then did a backroll away from her.

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

“Truce?” She said, lowering her flour-covered arm.

He nodded slowly… and then threw an egg at her.

She dodged it easily and glared at him, her hand already reaching for her flour again —.

“Now truce! Now truce.”

She hesitated, then clicked her tongue as she let herself relax.

They looked around the mess that was the kitchen... at the batter still somehow untouched on the counter… the oven, which hadn’t even been preheated yet…

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

A few hours later, Adrien walked in… only to stop short when he saw his wife and new kid there, covered in cooking ingredients. Dick had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. She was fine with this, there was still some batter left.

“Um…?”

“Brownies are cursed,” she told him, then she took another spoonful.

“What?” Said a bewildered and still half-asleep Adrien.

She looked her husband dead in the eye as she pulled the spoon from her mouth with a tiny ‘pop’.

“Brownies are cursed.”

~

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

Really, it had brought him a lot of grief growing up. He hadn’t known anyone besides Chloe and Kagami until he was twelve years old.

But, as it turned out, Dick really needed to be homeschooled.

On top of just… having no formal education whatsoever and his general knowledge being a toss of the dice, it was also the middle of the school year and everyone knows you can’t just dump new kids into a class halfway through.

Adrien tipped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

Dick was taking a test to see what he had to teach him, but he wasn’t concerned about the kid cheating. What was he going to do? Sneak away, grab a textbook, and start flipping through it without him noticing?

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

He was always smiling, always in motion, always affectionate. It was something they’d figured out quickly, but it had taken longer to notice that he was only like that when he was talking about things he actually wanted to. If they asked how he was doing, because it had only really been a week since it had happened, he would clam up and start semi-subtly shifting the conversation away.

He was avoiding his problems. And Marinette and Adrien really didn’t know what to do. He had stolen their unhealthy coping mechanism and now they were forced to stand back and watch as the kid destroyed himself the same way they did. And they knew it was a terrible coping mechanism, even Dick might have known it, but what were they supposed to do? They had been around much longer and they hadn’t found a better mechanism, what could they do for Dick?

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid, who was chewing on the end of his pen as he thought through the question he was on.

… damn, he was actually going to have to learn how to cope, huh?

So, that afternoon, he passed Dick off to Marinette like a baton in a relay race and took a bus to the bookstore.

The psychology section was huge and filled to the brim with case studies. It was honestly daunting to look at. Instead, he made his way to the clerk.

The woman looked him up and down once. “Rough week?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Can I have some recommendations for books on adoption, parenting, and coping with trauma? And also a highlighter, that would probably help.”

He skimmed through the parenting and adoption books. He and Marinette had already done this a few years back when they had first been considering kids, he was mostly just getting a refresher.

And then he turned to the five books on coping mechanisms he’d bought.

He took a deep breath and started looking methodically reading his way through it, highlighter in hand.

The next day, he found Dick, who was drumming his fingers on the table as he glared at the textbook in front of him.

Adrien had some suspicions about the kid in front of him, though he wasn’t absolutely sure yet. Still, he figured he should test his theory.

Besides, it would also help keep the kid safe and physical activity was one of the things a book on coping mechanisms had suggested.

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

He smiled. “Hey, kid, want to try something different for today’s lesson?”

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

“Well… how do you feel about learning self-defense?”

~

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick with a tiny frown as she started bustling around the living room in search of her shoes.

“Uh… work!” She said.

They’d both agreed that telling Dick that she was going to go do the exact job his parents had just died in was a terrible idea, so they’d thought up a cover story… too bad she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She finally saw her shoes tucked under the couch and dove down to grab them, then sent her kid a smile.

“Have a good day, sweetie, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She ducked out the door and started running all over again. Her eyes found their way to her watch. It was a tryout and she was going to be late…

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

She stumbled inside with one minute to spare, panting, and it took everything in her not to slump over the nearest bench and die.

“Hi,” she wheezed at Haly, who raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“You’re really cutting it close, here. Have anything to say for yourself?”

She rested a hand over her heart as if that would somehow bring it back to normal. “I need a fucking car.”

Haly paused, then nodded. “That explains that. I’ll let you off with a warning that you should try not to be late again.”

“Oka --.” She stopped, and then looked at him. “I got the job?”

He shrugged and pointed around at the empty tent. “You’re the only one here.”

Wow. She’d suspected that people would be less than eager to take the job offer, but to be the only person…

Well, she figured that she should just be thankful. That made things much easier.

She smiled faintly. “Cool. Should I still show you my skills and everything?”

He motioned to the trapeze. There was a net under it. The man had learned his lesson, at least. “Please.”

It turns out that being Ladybug is really helpful when you want to be a trapeze artist.

Actually, she found that being a trapeze artist was actually easier in some ways. Instead of having to hold tight to one thin string when swinging around, she was able to get a proper grip on a bar.

It was a lot of fun. Recently, she’d been using her cane more. Having a yoyo was impractical as a weapon when people were firing guns, so she’d more or less stopped using it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in her hair. It was calming...

Also, she got to show off, which was always fun.

She stopped after a few minor tricks and gave a bow to Haly, who seemed to just be glad that she actually had an idea of what she was doing.

“You’ll need about a month of training before you do any shows. Do you have any other expertise?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, she would probably be good with aerial silks or contortionism, but she felt some weird need to do the trapeze…

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

She groaned and turned to Haly. “Can I have a minute? I need to take this.”

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

“Ladybug!” Riddler said cheerfully. She could hear a woman sobbing in the background. “What’s up? Did you see the news?”

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

The smile in the man’s voice disappeared as he spoke next: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can reschedule the death trap.”

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to relax. “I can do tomorrow. Thank you. And let go of the poor lady, will you?”

“Fiiiiine.”

She hung up on him and then stepped back inside, giving Haly her brightest smile.

“I can start working in two days, if that sounds good to you.”

~

Adrien hesitated.

Really, he should be getting Marinette to train Dick on self-defense. They had similar movement styles…

But his hunch had been right. This kid seemed to learn a lot better when he was multitasking and, as much as he loved his wife, he didn’t think her English was good enough to teach someone else.

And, besides, he wanted to spend time with his kid, dang it!

He stopped Dick before he could throw another punch at the dummy to fix his form. “I know putting power into it is hard when you’re so little, but you need to rotate your hips so you can get at least some kind of force behind it.”

The kid pouted. “But this is so boooooooring. It’s just the same thing over and over again! I want to do cool stuff!”

“Not yet. You have to understand the basics before you start messing with it.”

Dick gave another pout, this time adding puppy-dog eyes, but, unfortunately for him, Adrien had never been fond of dogs. He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

“I before E, except after C, or when sounding like A, as in neighbor and…”

~

It didn’t take long for Marinette to notice The Guy.

She had a pretty good vantage point from the ladder to her trapeze. She would stop at the top, her hands up in a salute, and pause for ‘dramatic effect’.

Her eyes flicked over the crowd and locked on the face of The Guy.

He was at every show, his face pulled into a bored frown as he rested his head on his hand. He’d sit there the whole time, watching the same performance over and over again, and then leave the moment the show was over.

She pursed her lips for half a second before bringing her face back to its smile.

She’d brought a camera this time. This time she’d be able to get his face so she and Adrien could get information on him.

But, for now, she concentrated on making the first jump to the trapeze…

She sat down after her act, still breathing heavily. She was in shape… but, kwami, that kind of stuff is hard! Still, she couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been challenged in a while. It was kind of fun.

She wondered, vaguely, if this was what she’d be doing if she hadn’t gone back into crime fighting.

Marinette pushed that thought from her head as she downed her water. It wasn’t the time. She only had a few more minutes before she was on again for the outro. She needed the picture now.

She grabbed her camera from her locker and snuck her way to the stands, and pointed her camera --.

The Guy had spotted her. He looked directly at her camera, his face set in an even deeper frown than usual.

She quickly snapped the picture, then darted back behind the curtain. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Shit! Shitshitshit --!

Okay. Breathe.

He wasn’t going to just kill her. If the way they’d offed the Graysons was any indication, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to the circus. It was unfortunate what had happened, but not suspicious. However, the trapeze was new and there was a net. An accident like that couldn’t happen again.

No, they’d probably wait until after the show. That would be fine. She could deal with that. At least then she could stall until she had energy by waiting with someone.

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and looked over at the contortionist. “Time?”

“Time,” he said simply.

She hid the camera and ran out with him, smiling like she wasn’t about to face off with a mobster.

Two hours later, she stepped into her train car and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right, I know you’re in here,” she said quietly.

Or, at least, she hoped so. Because otherwise she would be looking a little silly --.

Wait, a knife pressed to her neck. Maybe she wished she was wrong.

She clicked her tongue and leaned into her attacker, closing her eyes. “You Americans still say ‘yo’, right?”

The Guy tensed a little under her, and then whispered a confused, “No…?”

She huffed. “Damn. Why do you change your greetings so often? Whatever. Kaalki, a little help would be nice.”

“Who --?” Began The Guy, but he was quickly cut off.

Because a portal opened under them and dumped them into a back alley in Gotham.

Marinette grinned and grabbed his arm, using his confusion to lean forward and flip him over her shoulder. He cursed as his back hit the ground and the blade clattered to the floor.

She grabbed it nonchalantly and her eyes flicked over the hilt.

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

“You mob people make this too easy. Now, tell me everything you know.”

He glared up at her. “They’ll kill me!”

“And what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t?” She twirled the knife in her fingers. “Quickly, please, I have a kid to get back to.”

A half hour later, he had spilled everything he knew.

And his guts…

She rolled off of him and glanced at the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her nose scrunched up as she dropped it beside him. There. Now it looked like a mob hit.

She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, only to groan at the sight of the blood staining her front.

She gave the corpse a kick as she cursed him out:

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

~

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

Dick had finally gone to bed, so it was just them two. For once.

Marinette had a show in an hour that she needed to portal back for, and Adrien needed to go out as Chat Noir soon, but they didn’t want to get up just yet.

She yawned and curled closer to him. “I guess…” She yawned again. “I guess I should tell you what I found out. Which is basically nothing. Apparently, hardly anyone has ever seen Zucco in person, just the higher ups. He just sends people to do his bidding.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Great. Did you at least give the sample to Nygma when you saw him yesterday?”

“Obviously.” Her watch beeped and she mumbled a curse. “Alright, I have to go.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeees,” she said, gently pushing his chest until he let go. She stretched out a bit and then walked to the bedroom door.

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

Dick was standing in the doorway, hugging a Chat Noir doll to his chest. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you guys?”

Marinette glanced at her watch and then at the kid and then at her watch again.

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

“It’s, like, every night,” he said irritably. He sighed and wiped his eyes a little bit. “Fine. I’ll just go lay down again.”

She bit her lip and then leaned down to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be back in four hours, okay, sweetie? Can you handle that?”

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

Marinette grimaced. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

They could hear the coatrack hit the ground in her hurry to grab her jacket and get out the door.

Adrien sighed and looked at Dick, who was still standing in the doorway.

He really should be going on patrol. The people of Gotham had begun to notice that Chat Noir and Ladybug had been showing up less frequently. Crime rates were rising…

He laid back in bed and opened his arms. “I won’t leave. Come here.”

Dick gave a tiny smile, though it seemed a little forced. Still, he got into bed and curled up in Adrien’s arms.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He tried.

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re going to have to talk about it, eventually. Avoiding it is just going to make it harder to deal with later.”

“Nope.”

He gave a tiny laugh. Dang. This kid really was just them but younger. Now all he needed was a miraculous and he’d be a perfect mini version of them…

“Where do you guys even go?” Asked Dick, his voice muffled in Adrien’s chest.

“Work,” he said after a few minutes’ deliberation.

“I thought you didn’t really have jobs.”

He laughed quietly. “Marinette has a million jobs, and I have my one. Though we don’t really get paid for what we do most of the time.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly, then gave a tiny shrug. “Why did you do the trapeze?”

He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical question, meant for it to be something that would make Dick change the subject, so it was a complete surprise when the kid whispered: “It was all that I knew.”

Internally, he was screaming. It was happening! Finally! He had opened up a little bit!

Externally, he nodded and rubbed circles into the kid’s back. “Hopefully, we can make it so it’s not all you know. Help you branch out a little bit while you’re here.”

He felt tiny hands clutch the back of his shirt. “Can’t do that when you’re always gone.”

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

~

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

~

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

~

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

~

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

~

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

~

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

~

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

~

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

~

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami. 

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

[soldouthaz]

hey! 

since it’s about halfway through the year now and since someone has reminded me of that, I figured it might be nice to put together a list of my ultimate favorites from the first six months. thanks anon!! 

I am only including fics that were written this year, as per the ask! if you read, please make sure to leave a kudos or a comment for the wonderful authors! all fics are marked as b!L or b!H, so please stick to your own preferences! 

I’m going to organize these by word count for y'all as best I can :) please let me know if there are any mistakes etc, and happy reading! 

50k - 100k+ 

✰ collision (E, 224k, b!L) by @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other. (Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

25k - 50k 

✰ pretty much anything by whoknows / @crazyupsetter (b!L) 

✰ push you out, pull you back in (E, 31k, b!L) by @behisoneandonly

Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade. 

✰ we both got nothing to hide (E, 43k, b!L, a/b/o) by @chloehl10 / lovelarry10

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

✰ tell it like an old song (E, 26k, b!L) by @outropeace

Harry is a bit lost (just like his memories), his best friend is hiding something, the love of his life is gone and love... love is like flowers.

✰ a trail of honey through it all (E, 27k, b!L) by @yvesaintlourent / faeriestyles

the TPH* fic we’ve all been waiting for. 

* trailer park!harry

✰ before we knew (E, 39k, b!L) by @risthebrave / falsegoodnight

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

✰ canyon moon (E, 40k, b!L, a/b/o) by @eeveelou / delsicle

An A/B/O Lion King AU 

✰ the space between (E, 40k, b!L, a/b/o) by @lads-laddylads

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why. Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

✰ my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) (E, 27k, b!L, a/b/o) by @risthebrave / falsegoodnight

Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

10k - 25k

✰ f*ck you betta (E, 11k, b!L) by @jacaranda-bloom

the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end. 

✰ when tomorrow comes (E, 11k, b!L, a/b/o) by @jacaranda-bloom

the one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

✰ come on over, we’ve got something to share (E, 12k, b!H, a/b/o) by @jaerie

Even as an unbonded omega with a four year old, Harry had everything he needed. His beautiful son, a nice apartment, money to pay the bills -- oh, and an alpha next door always willing to knot his brains out. 

✰ the way the storms blow (E, 21k, b!L) by rbbsbb

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

✰ we’ll be alright (E, 19k, b!L, a/b/o) by @jaerie

It started with things Harry could easily explain away. Having moved across the country for law school, feeling exhausted was something everyone around him was feeling. It was a heavy workload with pressure and stress but it was nothing Harry couldn’t handle - until he couldn't. In and out of hospitals for months, it isn't until the final hours that a diagnosis is made. After that, it's up to experimental treatments and will power to overcome the symptoms that he'll have to deal with for the rest of his life. Every step of his recovery is a struggle, but it's nice to have a therapist devoted to his well being, even if it forces him to make some decisions against his code of ethics. At least, in the end, he has hope.

note: make sure to check the tags on this one before reading! :) 

10k and under 

✰ connected to the heart (E, 9k, b!L) by @crazyupsetter / whoknows

A coda for Swallow The Knife

✰ let’s skip all the small talk (E, 5k, b!L) by @lilliandherself

Louis' friends force him to go on a roller-coaster. Harry is the fit employee that straps him in. They end up running into each other in the bathroom.

✰ whoever, however (E, 8k, b!H) by @brooklyn-babylon / @twopoppies

Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much. 

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected. 

✰ just a bit of work (E, 4k, b!L, marcel) by missyoutoosweetcheeks

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest. 

okay I'm sure there are tons that I've forgotten but these are some of the ones that have really stuck with me so far this year!! I think I'll do a part two after the second half of this year and I can’t wait to see what other fics are released!! happy reading!!! :) 

[viintage-pearls]

Snakes only bite

Your senior prom. It's suppose to be one of the one of the greatest nights of your life. Some girls plan it more than their own wedding. The perfect accessories. The perfect shoes. The perfect dress. And of course, the perfect date.

Betty thought she had all of that. She thought she was gonna have the perfect night. And yet, she found herself crying on the floor of her bedroom.

✰✰✰

She had decided to go with Jughead Jones. Yes, he was a bad boy and known as a risk. She had always found him alluring and she always had a good time with him. So, instead of going with one of the many guys that had asked her, she decided to go with the young serpent king. Too bad it would backfire.

Around 7 o' clock,  she walked into the gym. It was decorated wall to wall with violet cloths which had white fairy lights strung along the walls. Long tables with linens that matched the walls. Each of the seven tables had about 8 chairs on each side. There was a long purple isle from the door to the stage. And there was a huge dance floor that glowed a purple color. Clearly it was decorated by miss Veronica Lodge.

Betty and Jughead decided to just meet up at the school because the only form of transportation he had was his bike. And since she didn't want to ruin her dress, she decided just to take her own car. Maybe that was her biggest mistake.

She looked all around the gym, but he was no where to be found. She asked around, but no one had seen him. She found it peculiar but decided to wait a bit. Giving him the benefit of doubt. Thinking maybe he was just a little late.

Eventually, two hours passed. People were dancing and having a great time with their dates and friends. She was trying to. But, she was getting anxious and felt pathetic waiting around for her date. But, there was a topper to the cake. And this was just the icing.

The time to crown the prom royalty. Betty was sure she had it in the bag since she was the head of the cheer team. And she did. Unfortunately, when her name was called for prom queen, her king still hadn't shown. So, she stood there. On that stage, giving the brightest of smiles even though she was only filled with doubt.

Jughead's runner up, archie andrews ending up becoming king and they shared a dance. The entire time they swirled around in circles around the dance area, her mind was somewhere else. She couldn't help but think about how she would rather be dancing with Jughead than the carrot top.

After the dance, she ran out of the gym. She ran outside and got into her car. She practically sped her way over to the Southside. She normally didn't like going into snake territory after dark, but she was pissed off. And this man better have had a good reason for standing her up.

She sped into the trailer park, surely kicking up gravel. Not that she cared, her mind was only other things. She had always liked him and she really wanted to get to know him. They were both going to new york for college next year. So they would've actually had a chance without the weight of Riverdale's civil weighing them down.

She parked in front of the grey dingy trailer. The blonde woman climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Honestly, she wanted him to hear it. She wanted to hear the angry clicks of her heels. She was pissed off and with good reason. Yet, she hadn't had any clue just how upset she would be.

She knocked on the door and waited a bit. She began to hear a lot of steps and loud voices. She peeked into the window, completely unaware of what she was going to see. But when she did, it completely shattered any thought of them making things work in the future.

Her green orbs observed the dumpy living room. There was another woman with him. The woman's upper body was only covered by a bra. Jughead was half naked. The rest of their clothes thrown across the room, a lamp on the floor. It was clear what they had been doing. It was clear what he had rather been doing some random ass woman than going to a dance with her.

The shock, the hurt, the disappoint, the anger. It was all over her face. Her jaw clenched as she couldn't help but stare with wide eyes for a minute.

Then, he turned his head and he caught her eyes. She didn't stay around long enough to see his reaction. She just wanted to go home. She stormed back into her car. And just like that, she was gone faster than she had came.

✰✰✰

It took jughead a little longer than it should've before he decided to come  check up on her. After everything, he didn't know wether or not he should've. He had been such an asshole and he was sure that she didn't want anything to do with him after the night he had gave her. But, he gathered up all of his courage and eventually found himself riding up to her house.

His blue eyes looked up at the red and white two story dwelling. He contemplated for a moment just turning back home. But, he pushed that thought to the back of his head and found himself going up the back way. The andrews always had a ladder so he used it to get to her bedroom window.

He looked inside the pastel bedroom. He quickly spotted the girl on the floor. She still wore the beautiful lilac dress, even as she cried in a fetal position. He gulped as he felt his heart quench at the sight. He sighed before he knocked on the window.

He watched as the girl jumped a bit out of shock. She looked in his direction, anger quickly taking over her face. He watched as she stormed over, opening the window.

"Why are you here?" She asked him with a raised brow.

He looked up at her, bitting his lip. He didn't know what to say to her. He looked down before looking back up into her eyes. He couldn't help but notice her smeared mascara. "I.. I um, can i come in?" He asked her.

She scoffed a bit but gestured for him to come in. " yeah, sure whatever." She said, walking over to her mirror and pulling her hair into a bun.

Jughead nodded and climbed into her bedroom. He had been in the pink room many times before. But never Without Betty all over him. Not that he ever complained. In fact, he preferred it to her simply tolerating his presence in her bedroom.

" Soo.. What do you want, Jones?" The blonde asked him, wiping her eyes of her ruined make up.

"I just.. I wanted to tell you that i'm sorry. I should've been there. I should've been with you." He told her.

She turned around in the vanity chair, looking at him with a glare. "So, why weren't you?"

He sighed softly. He didn't have a real excuse. His best bet was the truth. "We were at the wrym. Me and my friends were hanging. And all of a sudden, this new girl came into the bar. And she came over to me. One thing led to another and." He said.

She nodded. "And you decided that you would've rather screwed her than to keep your promises. Got it."

Jughead sighed and shook his head. "No. I." He started but just sighed.

"You what?" Betty asked, standing up from the chair and looking up at him.

He looked down, he couldn't bare to meet her eyes. Instead, he watched the purple rug across her floor. His eyes traced the little purple and pink flowers.

Betty raised a brow as she watched him. She shook her head. "God dam, jughead jones. Why do you have to be such an âsshole?" She asked him. There was no response. "Why do i have to be so stupid?" She muttered as she ran her hands over her face.

Jughead glanced back up at her. "Betts.. You're not. I am. I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot. I just.. I didn't want to go your stupid little stereotypical northside party." He mumbled.

Betty laughed and shook her head. "You do realize how stupid that sounds? You literally asked me!"

He closed his eyes. "Yeah, well.. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes." He told her.

"Oh, really? Okay. So, now this is my fault? I should've seen it coming that instead of going to prom with me, you would've been at your trailer screwing another woman!?"

Jughead didn't know what to say. she wasn't exactly wrong. He made a promise only to break it. He knew how important this night was to her. And yet, stupid was his chosen path.

"Oh my god, elizabeth. Stop acting like there aren't a million other guys that wanted to go with you tonight. You should've went one of your preppy jocky freinds."

Jughead saw a flash of hurt across her face before it descended into anger. "You're right, jones. I got asked many times. But guess what? I didn't want to go with any of them! I wanted to go with you!"

He scoffed. "Why the hêll would you want to go with me? Look at you. You live on elm street. You are valedictorian AND the leader of the cheer team. You are like literal perfection. I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. I'm the leader of a gang. Why would you wanna go with me?" He asked her.

"Because.. I don't care about that stuff. Because as much as i should, as much as i'm scolded for even looking at you, i can never get you off my mind. Last summer, spending like every day together, it was amazing. I never told you but i fell. Big time. But, i knew it would never work in this town. So when i found out that we were both gonna be in new york next year. I was hopeful for some kind of future. But they were right. My sister, my friends. They told me that you are a snake, and not just by title, you are a fück boy. The best thing you have is your poisonous bite." She muttered, wiping a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek.

He took a moment to let her rambling words sink in. She loved him. Never in his life would he thought that she would love him. Yet, he had suppressed the same feelings. Maybe that was why he asked her to the dance. But he was scared. Because he was almost certain that she would never return those feelings. So, he sabotaged things. Because it seemed easier than being shot down. He felt the guilt on his shoulders. The guilt weighed so much. If he was in water, he would've drown by now. But, he was once more brought to reality when betty said something.

"I think you need to go." Betty told him, chewing on her bottom lip.

Jughead looked up at her. He was filled with sorrow and regret. "Betts, please don't make me go." He said, his voice cracking a bit. He wasn't used to vulnerability. But, he felt like he was on the verge of tears.

Betty didn't answer him, she didn't even look at him. She turned her head away from him and refused to meet his eyes. Her jaw clenched as she tried to contain herself.

Jughead sighed, but he had got the message. He looked at her. "I'm sorry, truly." He whispered, patting her shoulder. His heart breaking with each step he took away from her.

Betty looked back at him. She grabbed his hand before he could too far. She turned him around and pulled him into a deeply passionate kiss. She cupped his cheeks as she kissed him.

Jughead breathed but kissed her back. He was confused, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. Though, before he even knew it, the kiss was over.

She pulled away from him, letting her arms fall to her side after she peeled his hands off her waist.

Jughead looked at her with utter confusion. Talk about mixed signals. "Um.. Why?"

Betty simply smiled at him. " I just want to remind you of what you could've had. What you let go. And i hope to good she was a good enough fück to let me go." The blonde told him with narrowed eyes. "Now run along, you dirty snake." She muttered.

He gulped and continued on to the window, climbing out. He watched as she slammed the window behind him. "I love you, princess." He whispered before he continued down the ladder. Perfection was his. And he let it slip through his fingers. That would forever live with him.

@riverdalepromptathon

[pedros-mustache-main]

just a job

summary: working wardrobe for the new film ‘bohemian rhapsody’ is not all its cracked up to be. until it is.

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: language, ~suggestive~ themes (but who am i kidding? we’re all here for that)

a/n: i’m continuing to work on the next chapter for “even now” but this has been in my drafts for awhile, so i thought i would finish it. enjoy, loves! xoxo.

you hate your job. really, you do. despite what your younger sister believes, it’s not glamorous and it’s not well-paid. it’s simply a 9-5, clock-in & clock-out, leave-work-at-work gig to hold you over until your final semester at university ends.

at twenty-seven, you could have two degrees by now. instead you have zero—and a startlingly amount of student debt amassed thanks to your two attempts at completing a single degree. it’s been complicated, to say the very least, and you don’t like to dwell on past failures.

you consider your job a necessary evil. there’s no one to pay tuition bills except you, so when your cousin landed a position in makeup for a new film and mentioned the need for a wardrobe assistant, you applied. the work is simple, mindless even. you take measurements, offer your opinion when asked, and catalog the different costumes. you’re truly a glorified hunter-gatherer: you hunt through the rows and rows of possible options and bring back what’s needed. 

still, it’s a job, and it pays the bills. for the most part, you stomach it. there’s loads of downtime, giving you ample opportunity to study or write a term paper. your co-workers are nice enough. they live completely different lives, surrounded by the latest fashion magazines and sketchbooks full of costume ideas. your workspace—a child-sized deck in the corner of the trailer—is covered in maths books. your future in mathematics lends itself to things like tailoring and fabric measurements, but it’s not the same. there’s an obvious disconnect; you try your best to smile and fit in, anyway.

your cousin, morgan, finds you on a lonely tuesday afternoon. it’s drizzling outside, so her hair is puffy when she enters the trailer. 

“this damn weather,” she mutters. though she’s your first cousin on your mother’s side, she grew up in australia, and her accent, thick as it is, never fails to make you smile. “i swear, if gwil comes back and his wig is all frizzed out, i’m gonna pop a lid or something.”

“that bad outside?”

“humid as hell and still raining.” she sets her paper coffee cup, stained with purple lipstick around the edge, on the counter. “how’s the paper comin’?”

you glance at your work, at the empty word document on your laptop screen, and shake your head. “it’s not. i tried to start but i just...” your words drift away, incomplete but crystal clear at the same time.

“hey.” morgan crosses the narrow trailer to squeeze your shoulder. “stop doubting yourself.”

peering up through your lashes, you shrug. “i don’t know if i have what it takes to a researcher, that’s all.”

morgan scoffs. “that’s horse-shit and you know it! think about it: you like maths, for some strange reason, and you like medicine, and you want to marry those two and become the best biomedical blah-blah researcher the world has ever seen. and be smoking hot at the same time. don’t give up on yourself now, [y/n]. not when you’re so close.”

you rise from your chair and lift your arms over your head to stretch. you know she means well—hell, you’ve been through this all once before—but your fears persist. with a good-natured roll of your eyes, you close your laptop. “you’re supposed to say that. you’re family.”

“maybe, but it’s the truth.”

the trailer door bursts open, and you glance at the faded clock on the wall. post-lunch break. time for a scene change and costume switch.

your boss, richard, climbs the trailer steps, his glasses fogged over by the weather. he tosses a plastic-wrapped lunch plate on your desk before feathering your cheek with a kiss. his beard scratches your face, but you return the air-kiss, still feeling slightly ridiculous any time you imitate his standard greeting.

“sorry, lovie. you’ll have to eat later. the boys are on their way and we only have them for a few before the cameras start rolling again.” richard sheds his leather jacket and runs a hand through his rain-slick hair. “morgan, you’re taking up too much space. shoo, honey, shoo!”

“right, of course! i’ve got to go wrangle gwilym’s wig anyway.” before exiting the trailer, morgan lifts her brows in your direction. “remember what i said, okay? it really is the truth.”

shuffling to the door, richard waves his hands in a shooing motion. “yeah, yeah, we get it. you’re family and you love each other. scram—and i mean that in the nicest way possible.” once morgan disappears, he points to the back of the trailer. “i need you to find those god-awful corduroy pants. joe has to wear them today and last time i checked there was a tear up the inseam.”

you do as your told, squishing your way to the storage area. four clothes racks—one for each of the boys—take up the majority of the trailer space. aside from a bathroom the size of a postage stamp and an area for fittings, it’s a tight squeeze. that squeeze is made even tighter anytime one or more of the borhap boys makes their entrance. their personalities are distinct and their friendships are loud; it should be endearing, but it often leaves a headache grating at the back of your skull from all the noise. 

from your place jammed between joe and ben’s clothing racks, you can hear him—joe—as he makes his way to the fitting stool.

“okay, but listen to this, richard.” his voice is muffled by the mink coat your head is pressed against, but you already know the routine. he’ll start with some ridiculous anecdote then work his way to a joke or two, peppering in a smattering of questions for good measure. it’s the same nearly every day. 

joe is kind. they all are. but joe, specifically, is the most gregarious of the bunch—a bit much for your quiet tendencies. he makes you laugh on occasion, but the majority of the time, his personality is too big for the sandwich-sized trailer. you’d never tell him that, of course, so you often spend most of his fittings with a haphazard smile on your face, your mind millions of miles away.

corduroy pants retrieved, you wiggle your way to the fitting area. richard has his hands full with rami, attempting to peel a black-and-white checkered unitard off the poor man, so he gestures to joe with his foot.

“fix that inseam,” he says, his voice strained with effort.

joe has a wry smile on his face when you look at him. “look, [y/n], i normally don’t take my pants off on the first date, but i’ll make an exception for you.”

you toss the pants at his chest. an girlish blush crawls up the back of your neck, so you turn away, rooting around on your desk for your sewing kit. to further enflame your face, you cringe when you hear his jeans unzip and drop to the floor with a soft whoosh. your fingers stutter over the assortment of books, papers, and fabric materials on the table. 

what has you so nervous, you aren’t sure. joe is handsome. again, they all are. you suppose it’s the idea of having your face inches from his crotch as soon as he’s clothed. not for the first time, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. a biomedical researcher would never have to deal with this.

“m’lady, i am ready.”

the plastic surrounding the sewing kit bites your palm as you hold it tight, turning to face him. “don’t be so smug. it’s not cute.”

joe frowns. he looks slightly ridiculous, like a small child, in his wig: the straight bangs, the uneven locks of hair brushing the collar of his shirt. he looks like john deacon; at least, you assume he does. you’re no expert. still, his frown coupled with the wig and the striped shirt and corduroy reminds you more of a primary school boy than rock god oozing sex appeal. it’s discombobulating. 

“you’re a hard nut to crack, [y/n].”

lowering to your knees, you nudge his legs apart with your knuckles. already, you feel a lump rise in your throat. “yeah?”

“i’m in here every day and i don’t think i’ve made you laugh once.”

“that’s not true.” you search the recesses of your mind for a memory, but can only think about how, if you move an inch to your left, your forehead will brush the fold of his pants near his most delicate parts.

(god, you need to get laid. between a flurry of dead-end jobs and university courses, you can’t remember the last time you had a good romp in the hay just to blow off some steam.)

joe doesn’t seem at all bothered by your proximity. that is, until you run the flat of your hand down the inseam of his leg. you swear you hear him hiss, but maybe it’s just your imagination. regardless, he jumps a little, and you look up with a wince.

“sorry, cold hands. i’m just looking for the tear.”

he nods, a definite flush to his cheeks.

the tear—a whopping four inches from top to bottom—is nestled near the back of joe’s left thigh. you might be able to get away with a bit of fashion tape, but richard has an eye for detail. he claims the camera can pick out every loose thread, every minor snag. 

drawing back, you pop open the sewing kit with a click. “you’ve made me laugh before,” you say. it’s a lame attempt to break the silence, but you’ve never claimed to be the best conversationalist.

“huh? oh.” he hesitates. his eyes narrow, but there’s a playful glint to his gaze. “you’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“no, it’s the truth. there was that time with the... dinosaur story. and the other time with the baseball thing and your brother.”

he runs his pointer finger over the fingers on his opposite hand, eyes rolled toward the ceiling as he counts under his breath. “so, twice?”

you nod. “at least.” with a flourish of your needle and thread, you warn, “cold hands coming in again.”

he shifts to stand a little wider. his arms cross over his chest, straining the fabric around his biceps. “twice is good. i can live with twice. my normal goal is twenty times at minimum, but i can adjust.”

you fall silent. once you’ve located the rip, you give it a good tug, testing to see whether it will tear more before you’ve finished the job. it holds, thank goodness, so you place the needle at the base of the rip and start threading it back and forth. 

you don’t turn when richard announces, "be back, [y/n]. rami’s stuck. we need baby oil from makeup.”

at this, joe laughs. his hand slaps his opposite leg, his body heaving as he all but cackles. you jostle with the force of his amusement, and the needle stabs the exposed flesh his thigh. this time he does hiss, pulling back on instinct.

you grimace. “sorry! you moved!”

“that’s your excuse? you sure you didn’t plan to stab me?”

“why would i do that?”

“‘cause you think i’m annoying!”

“i don’t think you’re annoying—not all the time, anyway.”

“aha! so you do think i’m annoying!”

you huff. “joe, please. i’m just trying to do my job.”

perhaps it’s the weariness in your tone that drains the good-natured grin from his face. maybe it’s your confession, which you hadn’t meant to confess. whatever it is, he clears his throat and looks toward the mirrors on the wall across from him, arms snug over his chest again. you return to the tear.

the silence stretches thin with tension. you’ve wounded his pride, you know, but you aren’t sure why it’s shut him down. you’ve interacted only a handful of times, and you try to keep professional, distanced, any time you do interact with a cast member. his suddenly-cold exterior is peculiar. 

“can you turn around for me?” he does so without complaint. his ass looks good in the pants, you’ll give him that, and this vantage point gives better access to the top of the tear. a win-win, you suppose. 

“what did you mean by twenty times?” you ask. “your normal goal being twenty times?” another lame attempt at breaking the tension.

he shrugs. “it’s stupid.”

tear repaired, you stand. “no, i want to hear. please?” 

gently, you tug his arm so he faces you again. you glance over his new outfit, searching for minuscule imperfections. you can feel his eyes search your face in a similar manor, and your face grows warm under the scrutiny. 

in lieu of an proper response, he kisses you.

the sudden contact causes you to drop your sewing kit to the floor. the plastic breaks—you can hear the crunch—but you don’t care. it’s been a long time since anyone kissed you and a longer time since anyone kissed you properly. his lips are soft and skilled, slow against your own. you rest your hands on his forearms, let him kiss you until he pulls back.

your skin feels like it’s on fire, and your chest is tight with anxiety. you swallow hard, eyes darting back and forth between his.

“i don’t like it when girls i like think i’m annoying.” his voice is thick, but his words remind you of a schoolboy’s again. it’s endearing; you smile.

“i’m quiet, that’s all.”

“i’m not.”

“i know.”

“usually i can tell if a girl is interested by how many times she laughs when i talk. twenty times and over, i’ve got a solid in. you’ve never given me an in.”

“i suppose twice is a little below the mark.”

he leans forward, as if to kiss you again, and your eyes flutter shut, but his nose merely brushes yours. “go out with me... to dinner. let me make you laugh again.”

you know you should say no. if not for the sake of professionalism, for the simple sake of proving your sister wrong. she’d told you at the start that you would meet someone and it would be dreamy and romantic and totally Hollywood. you’d promised her you wouldn’t.

but joe is cute. and even though he’s loud and chaotic, there’s something about him. he’s like a magnet. despite when your head aches because he and ben are singing too loud, you’re drawn to him. there’s no use denying it.

“one date,” you whisper, holding up your finger. “i’ll give you one date to let you try.”

“how do i know if there will be a second?”

you have to laugh at his boldness. his grin widens at the sound.

stepping back, his hands dropping from your hips, he shows three fingers. “that’s three times. i think that automatically qualifies me for a second date.”

“we haven’t even gone on our first!”

“doesn’t matter.” he hops down from the dressing stool and presses a loud kiss to your cheek. “pencil it in. two dates, back to back.”

“joe—”

he pauses at the trailer door. his toothy smile flips your stomach. “i’m being annoying, i know.”

before you can laugh again, you bite your lip. “get out of here, you idiot.”

he purses his lips in an air-kiss before bouncing out the door.

you grab the broken sewing kit from the floor. straightening, glance at yourself in the mirror. 

your cheeks are flushed and your lips look freshly kissed, but you’re smiling. maybe not laughing, but smiling. joe’s the first guy who’s made you smile in awhile. he’s made the stress in your chest relax, and the constant worry at the back of your head slow.

that ought to count for something. maybe even a third date.

[spaceskam]

i got a little time

a slightly last minute day 4 of @malexweek​: free day! companion piece to my story in some other life! It’s not necessary to read that one first to understand this one since it takes place in the same time frame

warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of death, ptsd, childhood trauma, basically just proceed with caution

ao3

Alex knew a lot of things.

He was admittedly smart and open-minded. He tried his best to be logical and kind and fair. Granted, that kindness hadn’t really been extended to Michael Guerin lately, but he deserved it. Alex had no regrets pushing him away because he deserved it.

However, as his phone went off and he read the text Michael had sent out, his stomach dropped to the floor.

From: Michael

Hi. Sorry for the group message. Basically I'm leaving tonight. You probably won't see me again and if you do then I've failed. I didn't want to go without saying goodbye, but I also didn't want to freak you all out today when I came to see you. I know I've let you all down and I hope what I'm doing makes up for it. Thank you for being around me even though you don't like me. I'm sorry for all my fuck ups and for hurting you and for generally being a bad person. I hope it's better in another life. Love, Michael

Alex read over the message at least ten times, trying to make sense of it. His mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario, but he couldn’t tell if he was just projecting or not. Either way, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it under a good conscience. Especially when other people in the groupchat were asking what he meant and receiving no response.

“Hey, I gotta go,” Alex said to his date, the name of whom escaped him in favor of trying to make sense of what was going on with Michael. He didn’t wait for acknowledgement before he went to his car.

Alex threw caution to the wind, speeding to the junkyard. The more he thought, the faster he drove. He was buzzing with worry. What if Michael was leaving the planet in that stupid spaceship? Or, worse, what if Michael was leaving in a much more permanent way? Gone. Full stop.

He pulled up to the airstream at the same time as Isobel, both of them haphazardly parking and getting out of their respective cars as quickly as possible. The trailer was moved and exposing the manhole in the ground and all that did was make it more nerve-wracking. They shared a look and immediately went to pry it open.

Everything around them seemed eerily quiet. All the sounds that came with being outside seemed to be gone. No creaking, no wind, no nothing. All dead. 

“I can’t feel him,” Isobel told him, her words soft and desperate. He spared her a look for a couple seconds before he just pried open the hole with all the strength he could muster. 

It opened and, again, more eerie silence. Alex went down the ladder first, moving faster than he should. Working a ladder with one leg was still difficult, but this was Michael. Michael, the love of his life and who had been torturing. What if he went too far?

Alex hit the ground and Isobel did within the next second, having chosen to jump down. They both immediately noticed the giant arch that hadn’t been there the last time they were down there.

“Michael?” Isobel called softly as they slowly made their way around the bench. The arch was humming with electricity still and the place around them looked like it’d been ransacked. Michael was always messy minded, but this was a different level.

Which is when they spotted him laying on the ground unconscious.

“Michael!” Isobel said, immediately dropping to his side and tapping his cheeks. Something was stopping Alex from doing the same. It took him a second to realize what exactly kept him from doing that, but, once he noticed, he couldn’t not notice.

His hair was noticeably shorter, the curls tighter and only seeming to be disturbed by him falling to the ground. His clothes were different, a button-up shirt that was buttoned up all the way up and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows along with tighter jeans than the man he knew would ever wear. His body was even different, much slimmer in every way including his shoulders being at least a couple inches less broad. He looked like Michael, but he… wasn’t.

“Isobel,” Alex said cautiously, his eyes staying on the unconscious body, “That’s not Michael.”

“What?” she scoffed.

“Just look at it,” Alex whispered, “That’s not Michael.”

A terrified little gasp racked through her body and she covered her hand over her mouth as it seemed to click that it really wasn’t Michael. Alex started to look around, looking for something that might give him a clue for what the hell was going on.

The whole table was covered in nonsensical math and writing, everything disjointed. He had lined paper, but it seemed he disregarded them completely. Alex started to gather them in one stack so he could bring it all back with him so he could study it when he spotted one page in particular. It had ‘ALEX’ written across the top in unmistakable letters.

ALEX

If you’re reading this, then I’m probably gone. Which is good, I think. Good for you, good because you deserve not to have me ruining all the good things in your life. I’m only writing this because I needed to get some things off my chest and it didn’t really suffice in a text. So here it is.

I love you. More than anything in the world. All of the bullshit I’ve done and the mistakes I’ve made, I never stopped loving you. You’re the reason I made it this far in the first place I think. Every time I got too sad or things felt like too much or getting out of bed seemed impossible, thinking of you always made it a little easier. You’re my home and you give me hope and that scares the shit out of me, but it’s true. And it’s okay that I’m not the same to you. I don’t need to be.

I could sit here and write a whole five pages on how beautiful you are, but you know that I think that. You know that I’m convinced you could stop traffic. It seems a little unimportant to mention something as small as physical beauty, but you’re gorgeous. Every single little thing about you. Name something about you and I worship it.

Every song on the radio is about you. The sky rains for you and the sun shines for you. The world turns for you. 

I think I might be insane.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU. Today, yesterday, tomorrow, always. I’ll treat you better in a different lifetime.

Love, Michael

Alex took a deep breath as he looked over it a couple more times. His stomach was churning and he felt sick. What the hell did he do?

The not-quite Michael on the ground groaned, stealing Alex’s attention and reminding him what was going on. He folded up the note and shoved it in his pocket as he turned to help Isobel with whoever this was.

He slowly lifted his head and looked around. He was dazed and trying to piece it together. However, he seemed to wake up and he sat up straight, panic evident on his face.

“Did I do it? Where am I? There’s people here,” the Other Michael murmured to himself, checking himself for wounds. His chin was bowed to his chest and he kept talking to himself, kept asking himself questions, kept ignoring that he could ask the other people in the room. “Black boots, they didn’t have black boots. Jeans, they didn’t wear jeans. I’m not there, where am I?”

“Michael?” Isobel said. Alex wanted to reach out to her and pull her back so they could have this conversation in a more efficient way after they figured out  what was going on, but that didn’t seem plausible.

The Other Michael froze at the sound of her voice and he slowly lifted his head. His eyes were bulging out of his head as he looked up at Isobel. He looked over her a few times.

“You’re Isobel?” he asked cautiously. She nodded slowly. Then he lunged forward to hug her, clinging onto her desperately. Isobel’s eyes drifted up to Alex’s, trying to figure out what to do. But, honestly, he didn’t know. He was way out of his fucking depth. “I could do it, I knew I could do it.”

“Do what?” Isobel whispered, eyes still locked on Alex in her fear and confusion.

“Fix it, save you,” he said, pulling away slightly, “Where’s Max?”

“Uh,” she said. Alex decided it was time to step in and figure out what to do.

“What exactly do you mean by save?” Alex asked. Michael turned his head to face him as if just remembering he was there and he looked Alex up and down. His entire face flushed a shade of red his Michael never did.

“I know him?” he whispered to himself before adding an “I know you?” a little louder. Alex nodded and his face got an even darker shade of red. 

“Can you explain what you mean by save?” Alex repeated. Michael blinked a few times before he nodded.

“Right. So,” he said, looking around and taking every detail in. Alex could see the gears in his mind turning as he catalogued things in his mind. He was actually thinking before he spoke. That was new. “Okay, I think I must’ve miscalculated because of your ages. I didn’t go back in time. Or, if I did, I don’t remember it, but I would’ve remembered it, so I think I’m elsewhere. Are those notes?” He got to his feet easily and Alex noticed that he was at least an inch or two shorter than his Michael. He was clearly a grown man, but he was so small. 

Michael sorted through the pages, his head moving slightly with his eyes as he read them impossibly fast. Isobel stood up and went to Alex’s side, taking ahold of his arm as a way to steady herself. Michael stopped his reading by tapping the table.

“Right. So, I know what happened. I was working on creating a time machine and so was he. I don’t think either of us were actually that wrong. By the looks of it, it should’ve worked quite well. I think the problem lies in the fact that we happened to do it at the exact same time in our respective timelines and it created a weird twist and we swapped places instead. The only way to fix it is to, again, do it at the same exact time. It’ll be a little hard to do on purpose, but I think we can manage,” Michael rambled, looking up at them, “I know he’ll want to come back. Here seems much better.”

“Better?” Isobel asked, eying him, “What’s it like where you’re from?”

Alex wasn’t actually sure he wanted to know. Michael had asked if he knew him here. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime where he didn’t know Michael. As much as he was an asshole, that seemed impossible.

“Um, well, you’re not there,” he said simply, still tapping against the counter, “Neither is Max. Where is Max?”

“He’s,” Isobel said cautiously, looking to Alex before looking back to Michael, “He’s dead.”

Michael stopped tapping.

“Oh,” he said, tilting his head, “What happened? Was it the doctors?”

“The doctors?” Alex prodded. Michael went back to tapping. He seemed to be twisting in his skin. Alex had the undeniable urge to get him alone and learn all of his secrets. Apparently that needed didn’t go away no matter which version of Michael he was talking about.

“The doctors, the ones who found us after the crash? Kept us, trained us, pushed us. Pushed until… Well, doesn’t matter, I got out. Did we all get out here? You know, both of you are very accepting of the alternate universe thing, I’m surprised,” Michael rambled, refusing to let them fully comprehend what he was saying about anything.

“Things are weird here,” Isobel said, stepping closer, “Go back to the doctors.”

“And you, how do I know you? Are you still called Alex? You dress different here and you walk different,” Michael quizzed. Alex raised an eyebrow. So he didn’t know him where he was from, but he knew how he dressed and how he walked? Michael’s face turned red again and he looked away. Not like he was making eye contact in the first place. 

Before they could make any sense of the rest of it‒or even make sense of what he’d already said‒there was more noise. Liz and Kyle and Maria appeared on the ladder, all rushing in response to that goddamn text.

But this Michael, smaller and different, immediately changed gears as more people appeared. Alex spotted the way he shrunk in on himself as Liz ran to hug him. He didn’t hug back or respond. His panic visibly grew before something went off behind his eyes and they unfocused. Alex clocked that immediately.

“Liz,” Alex said, putting a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her off him. She looked confused as he did so, but she noticed Michael’s discomfort. “Isobel, take Michael to the airstream so he can calm down and fill him in on what it’s like here. I’ll tell them.”

Which would’ve worked, but the moment Isobel tried to pull him that way, he freaked out.

“No!” Michael said when she tried to pull him to the ladder, “No, no, I can’t, no.” 

Isobel let go of his arm and he pulled away completely, backing himself into a wall. He put his hands on his head and he instantly started whispering to himself, counting and breathing as he sunk in on himself. It probably wasn’t helping that everyone was staring at him like he didn’t belong.

“Okay, new plan,” Alex sighed, “Everyone else up, Isobel stay with him here.”

“What do I do?” Isobel whisper-yelled at him as everyone started heading back up the ladder without argument.

“Just sit with him. I’ll get an air mattress down here, maybe we can get him to sleep and we’ll figure it out,” Alex told her softly, his eyes going to the boyish, terrified version of the man he loved despite it all, “We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Okay,” Isobel agreed. Alex squeezed her arm and headed up the ladder to fill Liz, Kyle, and Maria in on the little bit they knew.

That letter burned in his back pocket.

-

It took less than 24-hours (for Alex, at least) that, as charismatic as this Michael had seemed when he first woke up, that wasn’t actually who he was.

He was quiet, reserved, and anxious. He talked to himself more than he talked to other people and he shied away from basically all of them as soon as the initial adrenaline wore off. He seemed to need isolation and familiarity and this… Well, this was a lot of change. All of which would’ve been, but Alex had heard him mention he needed his medication. It was concerning to say the least.

Alex and Isobel had been taking shifts to check on him which was hell on his leg, but Alex was determined to watch over him if only because he needed the real Michael back for his own peace of mind. However, the only way they were going to get his Michael back, was if this one was working out the kinks in the machine. Something he couldn’t do if they sent him into a mental break by making him stop all his medication without weaning off of them.

“Do you know all the medication you take?” Alex asked as he came down the ladder. Michael looked up at him from the air mattress. His eyes were tired and he was curled up in a ball.

“Yes,” Michael said softly, “35mg of paroxetine, 25mg of lamotrigine, 2mg of clonzaepam, 50mg of‒”

“Write it down for me,” Alex said instead, “I’ll get it for you.”

“You will?” Michael asked, almost like he was surprised. Alex nodded and gave him one of Michael’s notebooks and pens to write it down. This Michael took it graciously. 

His handwriting was noticeably different from the scratchy handwriting of his Michael. It was boxy and childlike despite the words being spelled perfectly. Alex wanted to pry so bad. He wanted to know everything.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly do you take all that for?” Alex wondered. He was no stranger to a long list of medications, but the Michael he knew would never. He was sure he’d rather pout over a vat of acetone than follow anything a doctor prescribed.

“You name it, I’ve been diagnosed with it at least once by someone,” he said, glancing up at Alex before diverting his eyes again. He did that with everyone. “Right now, I’ve got PTSD, anxiety, depression, and a couple other things, but it all seems to boil down to those three things, so.”

“Me too,” Alex said. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “Air Force Captain. PTSD basically comes with the job.”

“Air Force,” Michael said to himself, “What led to Air Force?”

“And your anxiety, is it primarily when it comes to people or were you just generally overwhelmed last night?” Alex wondered as he took the list. He planned to shop through his own medicine cabinet before taking it to Kyle to see what he could get his hands on.

“Um,” Michael said, rubbing over his face, “I-I guess all of the above? Humans are too much. They think so loud and there’s too much with them, you know?”

Alex did not know.

“It’s easier to stay by myself. That’s what I do at home, I stay by myself. I get coffee, I go to therapy, I go home. I work from home. I do things from home.”

“You said we think too loud,” Alex said cautiously, “Does that mean you’re strong enough to hear my thoughts?”

Michael looked up at him, making eye contact for the very first time and it hit Alex a little too hard. There was something so distinctly off about him and something told him it had nothing to do with all the things he’d just admitted.

“I am not strong. I’m weak. That’s the only reason I’m alive.”

Alex stared at him for a long while, trying to make sense of what exactly he meant by that. He had a feeling it was one hell of a story. His whole life was probably one hell of a story. That’s typically how one ends up with a medication list that long.

“Right. I’ll be back soon and I’ll pick up some food.”

Michael pulled the blanket back over his head.

-

“What are we supposed to do with him exactly?”

“Take care of him.”

“This is so fucking weird.”

Alex rubbed his eyes as everyone spoke around him. It’d been four days of still just rotating shifts of checking on the not-Michael, slowly watching as he got stabilized and adjusted. It was taking longer than he wanted, but he knew he was just being impatient. 

Not-Michael was still being tight-lipped about what his life was actually like, but, considering the context clues, Alex was stressing that his Michael was in a very bad place. A place where they pick up little kids and spend their whole life torturing them to the point that they try to build a time machine.

But, then again, his Michael tried to build a time machine too.

“Well, I was talking with him last night,” Isobel said. She was handling it better than everyone and it had everything to do with Michael being completely obsessed with her existence. Every time Alex saw them, he was staring at her like she was made of diamonds. “He said he works as an technical engineering supervisor from home, like he works for the government and stuff. The guy is smart. Like, makes our Micheal look stupid, smart.”

“He talks to himself, though,” Liz pointed out, voice a little hushed, “Like more than normal. Shouldn’t we be a little concerned that he’s just a ticking time bomb?”

“I don’t know, there’s people at Sunset Mesa that talk to themselves like that and they’re not crazy. I think it just comes from isolation,” Maria suggested.

“It also could be a side effect of his heightened anxiety,” Kyle said.

“But don’t smart people talk to themselves? Maybe he’s just smart,” Isobel said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Or maybe he had a shitty childhood, worse than we can even imagine, and it’s a coping mechanism,” Alex said sternly, causing all of them to give him their attention, “Or it could be any number of things all mixed together, but it doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to sit here and speculate and gossip about him. We’re going to give him time to adjust to his medications, adjust to the new setting. We just have to be patient and not treat him like he’s weird or crazy. He’s still Michael, just… extremely different.”

“But shouldn’t we know what we’re dealing with?” Liz said.

“Listen, I’ve read over Michael’s notes over and over and they don’t make sense. I understand some of it and I’ve researched some of the math that was past my understanding, but some of it is nonsensical at best. This Michael is our only shot at getting ours back, so we’re going to be nice to him and we’re going to help him,” Alex explained simply.

“You know, for someone who was pretty anti-Michael before all of this, you sure seem really eager to get him back,” Isobel said. Alex didn’t give her any kind of reaction to that.

They slowly but surely shifted their conversation back onto other topics and Alex eventually announced that he would see them later before excusing himself for the night. Like he had been for the last few nights, he made his way to the airstream. Other Michael had no idea that the airstream even existed since he refused to leave the bunker and his Michael probably wouldn’t mind him taking over the space, so that’s what he did. It made him feel safer, closer.

He changed into his night clothes and sat on the edge of the bed to take off his prosthetic. He needed to wash his leg and the liner, but Alex felt frozen in place. His head was heavy and his heart was aching and he found himself doubling over with a pillow in his lap, inhaling Michael’s scent and trying not to start crying.

It was more than a little difficult to process everything. Although Michael had only been gone for a few days, it felt like a goddamn lifetime. Alex had been overwhelmed with guilt and, any moment he wasn’t purposely distracting himself, he felt sick with it. The moment his mind relaxed, he’d just be drowning in self-hatred and anger and he had to distract himself again. He was fucking miserable and he just wanted Michael back. The right one.

Again, he played over the months leading up to this disaster. Michael had hooked up with Maria and was painfully mean to Alex all the while to the point that, when it crashed and burned, Alex felt no guilt being mean back. He pushed and he pushed and, when he saw Michael self-isolating and punishing himself, he pushed harder. Hell, that night, he’d purposely rubbed his date in his face, purposely told him to fuck off when he tried to say goodbye. It felt like it was all his fault.

The worst part was this was beyond his expertise. When normal people left, they usually just left the city or the state, not the goddamn dimension. This wasn’t something Alex could just follow him and apologize. This wasn’t even like he was dead and forcing him to mourn. This was hell. Did Michael know what this would do to him?

Alex kept the pillow under his nose as he grabbed the note again that Michael had left for him. He basically had it memorized by now, but he liked looking at it. He liked knowing that Michael didn’t hate him for being a dick. He loved him.

His eyes scanned over the words once again before he couldn’t take the tightness in his chest, so he quickly double checked that he hadn’t yet detached his leg before he stood up and went to go down to the bunker. He needed something and this was the closest thing he was going to get.

The Other Michael was sitting at the big table, looking between Michael’s work and a fresh notebook as he transcribed everything in a more cohesive manner. That alone gave Alex a little bit of comfort. Just… not enough.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little breathy and obviously stressed. The Other Michael looked up at him, but he avoided eye contact by focusing his eyes on Alex’s shoulder instead of his face. Which, fine, fair enough. “So, I hate to be so pushy, but can you tell me how you live over there? It’s driving me insane not knowing what he entered on his own and, no offense, but you being so heavily medicated just makes me nervous about how he’s doing. I just need to know he’s not, like, being tortured.”

The Other Michael was uncharacteristically silent for a moment and Alex forced himself to be patient. He didn’t want to push, but he just needed to know. Eventually, Michael swiveled in his little chair to show that he was giving him his full attention.

“I live in an apartment in Manhattan and I work from home. As long as he’s figured out what my job is and is keeping up my work, then he should be fine,” he said. Alex swallowed harshly and looked around the bunker to try to think of something.

“Then what’s so bad about being over there? Because you seemed pretty sure he’d want to come back,” Alex said. Michael started tapping against the table again, murmuring to himself softer than Alex could hear. He decided it wasn’t even his place to hear those thoughts.

“Um, here, there’s Isobel and you and… others,” Michael said, his face turning that deep shade of red it seemed to always be when he had to talk to him, “Over there, it’s very lonely.”

Alex nodded, swallowing as he looked around again to find something to say. It was weird being here without Michael, without him showing off. Everything was wrong without him here. 

“I have another question,” Alex said, which was an understatement, really, because he had a million, “How do you know me if you don’t know Liz or Maria or Kyle? If you live in Manhattan and you’re alone all the time, how do you know me?”

Michael’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red and he looked down at the table. Alex didn’t know what he was expecting him to say, but a part of him was assuming the worst. Were those “doctors” he mentioned actually military people? Did he know Alex because he was the son of one of them? But, honestly, that didn’t make sense because, if he was, he probably wouldn’t trust to be alone with any version of him.

“Um,” Michael said, still tapping away, “You live up in Manhattan too. And, I mean, I don’t know you over there. You’re a barista that I see sometimes and I follow you on Instagram, but we’ve never had a conversation.”

Well that was certainly not what Alex was expecting.

“I’m a barista?” Alex asked, suddenly more interested in this weird other version of him than anything else. Michael smiled for the first time and it was nice to see that he was getting more comfortable. 

“And, um,” he said, breathing out a soft breath of air as his cheeks continued to darken, “A go-go dancer.”

Alex huffed a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. He couldn’t picture himself like that. The whole idea was laughable at best. He wondered if his Michael had discovered that yet. Did he find it funny?

“That’s…” Alex said, huffing a laugh as he leaned against the wall, “Insane. But I guess that could be fun in another life.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, still tapping. They were quiet for a moment again as Alex tried to picture it. “What, uh, what am I to you here? There you… Well, he would never give me the time of day if I tried.”

Alex smiled sadly to himself. He only had disappointing things to share. Somehow, that story of what could be sounded a lot more hopeful than Alex’s story of what could’ve been. They’d slaughtered their past, burned any chance of a future.

But, still, there was no point in lying.

“We’re in love,” Alex admitted and Michael nearly fell out of his chair. Alex snorted a laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve been on and off since we were 17, he’s the love of my life.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” this Michael said, guilt on his face. But it wasn’t his fault. Well, not really, anyway.

“It’s okay,” he promised, “We weren’t together when all this happened. Kind of in a fight, I guess.”

“Well, I assumed. Not even a fool would leave you willingly,” he asked. It was Alex’s turn to feel his blood run a little hot and he raised an eyebrow.

“You should definitely try when you get home,” he said, “‘Cause you probably have a better shot than you think.”

Michael shook his head and looked back down to his notebook. Alex instantly started wondering if they were any closer to fixing that thing and getting back to normal, but he knew they probably weren’t. That’d be too easy, too quick. Alex was never lucky enough to get what he wanted in a timely manner.

“But, basically, he’s alone over there,” Alex said, shifting the subject back to the one that was important, “Is he safe from those doctors you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Michael said instantly, tone clipped, “They’re all dead.”

“Dead?”

Michael whispered to himself, knee bouncing and finger tapping. He was closing in on himself and it was clearly a touchy subject. But, the thing was, curiosity aside, he needed to know. He needed to know what kind of universe his Michael was going into. He needed to know if he was alone and facing a threat that Alex couldn’t protect him from. He didn’t know why exactly he needed to know that, but… he did.

“You don’t need to tell me all the details,” Alex said, stepping closer, “But I would really appreciate a little bit of a rundown of what happened to you over there. I know you’re not exactly like him, but he’s curious. He’s going to look into things.”

Michael kept tapping and he looked up to Alex before looking back down. Alex wasn’t sure if he was like his Michael or not, but he had to assume he had some things in common. So, in an attempt to comfort him like he would comfort his Michael, he reached out and touched his shoulder. His head snapped in his direction, but he didn’t pull away. So Alex squeezed and rubbed his hand over his shoulder.

“Tell me.”

“Isobel, Max, and I were found in the desert of Roswell, New Mexico after waking up out of our pods. Found by people camping, I think, I don’t remember. The next day, though, we were selected to be a part of a study that was publicized as a study for kids who had escaped from cults at young ages,” Michael said, letting out a little laugh. Alex rubbed over his back, all bones beneath his shirt. “We were the only subjects. I-I don’t really know all the details, they obviously wouldn’t tell us what they were doing or why, but they said we were aliens and they were there to train us. And train us they did.”

“But it was torture,” Alex guessed. Michael shrugged.

“Wasn’t all bad,” he admitted, “They just pushed so hard. It was too easy to break, fight back as we got stronger.”

“What happened when you fought back?” Alex asked quietly, his fingers reaching up into his hair. Michael’s eyes closed and he leaned into his touch. It was too familiar.

“Depends,” Michael said, “How violent you were equalled how bad it was. I threw a bowl of oatmeal at a nurse and got six weeks in solitary.”

“Jesus.”

“Isobel threw a doctor off the roof, killed him. She didn’t tell me what happened, but she had scars everywhere.”

“And Max?”

“Max,” Michael said, smiling sadly to himself as he seemed to think back, “Max let it fester.”

“Oh?”

Michael’s head was tilted almost all the way back into his palm, completely unraveling in his touch. It was strange and new all at once. Alex felt more powerful than he could articulate and he couldn’t let go. So he didn’t.

Still, Michael shook his head a little bit and his eyes opened.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Then tell me this,” Alex whispered, tilting his head so that all this small, intelligent, deceivingly powerful version of man he loved could see was him, “What are you capable of?”

“You really wanna know?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

In the blink of an eye, any wall in Alex’s mind that protected him from psychic evaluation was destroyed, a whirlwind of chaos entering his mind, grabbing him by the metaphorical collar, and yanking him into some place else. Once he got settled into that some place else, Alex realized it was the desert.

Except, not just any place in the desert.

Alex found himself standing in the middle of the crash site, the sand around his feet ever changing. He seemed to be reliving every moment of history that happened in that spot. Flashes of a shattered spaceship, of violence, of military conspiracies, of angered voices, of cold rain on his skin after getting high, of making love in the bed of a truck on hot summer nights, of feeling alone, of future moments that he wasn’t allowed to fully understand. It was overwhelming and Alex felt obscenely overstimulated, every nerve in his body screaming, but his mind, his mind told him he was at peace no matter how much his body disagreed.

In front of him stood Michael, not his Michael, but Michael nonetheless.

“This is only a little bit,” he said, his voice in his head and outside of it and everywhere and nowhere, “I’m not a psychic, I’m not an explosive, but I was trained to be both.”

“You’re a telekinetic,” Alex said and Michael nodded.

“I can use my mind to separate muscles from bones and white blood cells from red without moving,” he said, “And I hate it. I was trained and built to be a weapon. I refuse to be a weapon.”

“I don’t think you’re a weapon,” Alex assured him despite the fear he felt. It was hard to not feel fear when he wasn’t in control. But he would survive. 

“You’re scared of me,” Michael accused.

“No, not of you,” Alex told him and he was being honest, “Thank you for showing me this.”

“I hate what I can do,” Michael said, “I hate this. I hate being a weapon.”

Alex, despite his fear, stepped closer to him. He walked better here than in reality. He put his hand on his shoulder and slid it up into his hair. Was this manipulation? If it was, Michael knew and he didn’t mind, so Alex continued until he was holding him.

“Let me teach you not to hate it. Let’s use it for good. Let’s get my Michael back, okay?” he said. And this Michael nodded.

Soon, Alex was carefully put back into his own mind and they both unintentionally fell into each other, the mindscape draining them both for extremely different reasons. But Alex hugged him and he hugged him back.

They were much closer after that.

-

A few weeks later, things were agonizingly getting back to normal.

Liz went back to focusing on Max, Maria went back to focusing on the bar, Kyle went back to focusing on the hospital, Isobel went back to splitting her time with Max and Michael is allegedly even amounts. Alex was the only one that seemed to still be trying to fix this.

Well, Alex and Michael.

They spent most of the time in the bunker, considering Michael still refused to leave, and Alex was learning a lot about what could’ve been his Michael if things went different. He fluctuated between being completely silent to being really talkative and there seemed to be nothing that indicated which he would be. He’d be excited and loud one second and then, without warning, he’d shut down. Alex didn’t mind it.

They were rebuilding the portal from scratch basically. Other Michael’s theory was that his Michael fucked up the coding and accidentally created an alternate universe portal instead of a time machine and Other Michael created one that was applicable for both, so when they went in at the same time, it swapped them instead of going back in time. Alex could barely wrap his head around it, so he just took it as fact.

It was just slow and Alex only was getting a little bit of information at a time and he was becoming more and more interested in Other Michael’s past. He didn’t even want to know because of his Michael anymore, he was now just really fucking curious.

Context clues told him both Isobel and Max died before they were able to escape and Max died first, but he never told him how. Alex didn’t know how old he was when he got out or how he got out, just that they were cruel and he had to rely on Isobel and Max to stay sane. Alex didn’t know how all those doctors died, only that he went to therapy with the only doctor in the country who knew all of the details because he had been employed but left when he decided it was inhumane. He didn’t know how he got to Manhattan with a list of impressive credentials, only that he had a medicine cabinet that was obscene. He knew so little and he wanted to know everything.

“You know, if you ever want to leave the bunker for any reason, we can,” Alex said, “I know all the places in the town that people don’t go.”

Other Michael shrugged, tugging the blankets around him tighter as he whispered to himself. He did that on bad days. Alex had brought him more blankets when he asked for them and he cocooned himself in blankets and his own sweat. He said it put his mind at ease. To Alex, it seemed like some veiled attempt at replicating contact with another human. He was too awkward to actually offer despite their trip to his mindscape.

Isobel had shown him hers as a comparison and it was only when that happened that he realized just how much of a show off what Michael did was. She struggled even getting into his mind in the first place even when he was being open to her and, whenever she did get inside, she said it was literally impossible to coax him out. He was basically chained inside his brain. Michael was strong enough to break those shackles without any extra effort. It was impressive to say the least.

“Actually…” Michael said, voice small, “Tomorrow night, do you think you could bring me to see Max?”

“You want to see him?” Alex asked, perking up at the idea of getting him out and about. Michael nodded. 

“I want to see the pod too. I haven’t seen one of them since, well, I came out of it,” he said, “Just not today.”

“Yeah, absolutely, we can go. You want me to ask Isobel to be there too?”

“If you could.”

“I can.”

By the time the next night rolled around, Alex gave him a little reassuring pep talk that they wouldn’t run into anyone. It was the middle of the night and he would be fine. A shoulder squeeze solidified their understanding and soon they were climbing up the ladder.

“Oh,” Michael said, “I… I didn’t realize we were beneath a junkyard.”

“Yeah, my Michael lives in that trailer,” Alex said. Michael nodded and took a deep breath. “Feel good to breathe fresh air?”

“Something like that.”

The drive out to the desert to get to where Max was was spent with nothing but the sound of his tires on the road and Michael murmuring to himself. Alex couldn’t tell if he talked to himself quieter when he took his medication or if Alex had just been so on edge when they first met that he seemed to be louder. It didn’t really matter, honestly.

They pulled up next to Isobel’s car. She was already standing outside of it, looking gorgeous for no reason as she waited for them and gave them that charming smile. She was doing good for a woman who had one dead brother and another brother who was stuck in an alternate dimension. Still, she hugged Other Michael like he was the real thing and Alex didn’t know who it benefited more.

Alex hung back for a moment as the kind of siblings walked in to see Max. Isobel had filled Other Michael in more on the logistics of his death before and how they were working on bringing him back to life. While Michael never offered to help, Alex had a suspicion that he probably could be extremely helpful. The problem was that he was scared of himself, of what he could do. All that did was cause Alex to have more questions.

He wanted to help Michael get more comfortable using his powers‒though maybe not as comfortable as his Michael was‒but it was easier said than done. He couldn’t be his therapist, but he could be his friend. So he just had to treat him nicely and hope he realized he wasn’t scary.

Alex leaned against the car and thought about his Michael for the billionth time. He was always on his mind, it was nothing new. Every day that past, it got a little more normal for him to be there and it hurt Alex each time. He was utterly terrified that he would never get him back. And, if he didn’t, what did that mean?

More importantly, if he did, what did that mean?

He missed him and regularly found himself dreaming about him, about them, only to wake up alone. Part of him was wondering if he should get used to this and try to find someone interesting to love. Another part wondered if he should settle for the version of Michael right in front of him who willingly melted into his hands.

Was that wrong?

Eventually, Alex pushed off the car and walked into the cave. Michael and Isobel were both zoned out as they stared at the pod Max was in from their spot sitting on the ground. He was pretty sure they were trying to reach Max in his mindscape to see if there was anything to salvage. 

So Alex sat back and waited and wondered if this was the new normal.

-

“So, I know you’ve been rationing your meds.”

It’d been well over a month and Alex was ready to explode. Other Michael had apparently fixed the fucking portal, but he said they couldn’t try it yet because it wasn’t the right time. Alex was slowly beginning to think it never would be.

When he wasn’t in the bunker, he was with Max. He was still in the pod, but apparently his brain was working well enough that they could bring him into the mindscape. He was getting to know him that way and it seemed to make him feel better. Did it make Alex feel better? Absolutely not, but he was used to that by now.

Now, however, he was ready to be a little selfish and do something that was specifically to benefit him. And that meant learning more.

Michael looked up from the notebook he was always scribbling into and stood up a little straighter. Alex would never get over how strange his thin body looked in clothes that were baggy on even his Michael. 

“So I got you something,” Alex said.

“Another prescription?” Michael asked. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Sorry, no, but,” Alex said, fishing the joint he’d taken off of Maria out of his pocket, “Maybe this will help?” Michael stared at it blankly, not a single ounce of recognition on his face. Alex laughed. “It’s a joint, you dork. Weed? Marijana? Satan’s gateway to your soul?”

A small smile formed on his face and it was infinitely more innocent than anything his Michael had ever done. Alex was charmed as always. There was just something about him that didn’t make sense. He was both horrifically tortured in his mind in ways no one could imagine while also being relentlessly innocent. It was fascinating.

“Can’t that make me worse?” Michael asked, focusing back on his notebook.

“I mean, possibly,” Alex said, taking a few steps closer, “But it helps a lot of people. Might help you.”

“What happens if I do react badly?” Michael wondered softly, almost like he could tell how close Alex had gotten to him. And, knowing him, he probably could. Alex bumped his shoulder into his.

“Then I’ll be right there,” Alex said. A deep blush rose to his cheeks like it always did and Alex couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.

Michael eventually dropped his pen and he followed him to the air mattress. They both sat down and Michael curled in on himself like always. Alex put the rolled joint between his lips and pulled a lighter out of his pocket.

“Wait!” Mciahel said. Alex looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is it safe to do it in an enclosed space?”

“What, you’ve never heard of hotboxing?” Alex asked. Other Michael stared at him until he laughed. “Yes, it’s safe.”

He lit the joint and took a deep breath, trying to force it to calm him faster than he knew was logical. Michael watched him before taking it and trying to copy him. He coughed a few times and Alex laughed before showing him again. Eventually, he was able to take a hit without choking and they relaxed. It was strange to smoke with a different version of his Michael, but, then again, wasn’t everything strange with him?

“You doing okay?” Alex asked him. He nodded his head and Alex reminded himself to take the questions slow. He couldn’t jump right in with the prodding. “Good. My Michael thought he was so cool when we were young ‘cause he smoked.”

“From all the stories you’ve told, I can believe that.”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed, “I miss him.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said. Alex shook his head and took another hit.

“Don’t be,” he insisted, “But, uh, do you know exactly when it’ll be ready to go?”

“No,” Michael said. His guilt was obvious in his voice and on his face, but Alex still didn’t understand why. What were they fucking waiting for?

“You sure you’ll know when it’ll be time?” Alex asked as nicely as he could, “Like, what goes into the timing?”

Michael shrugged, “It’s a psychic feeling. I felt it when I came over the first time. It’s like things click because we’re mirroring each other. It’s like, uh, like Deja Vu, I guess, but a little different. I’ll just know because it’ll feel right.”

“Okay,” Alex sighed, “I trust you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Alex shook his head again. He did trust him. Granted, he didn’t really have a choice. Not trusting him meant not accepting his help. Alex took a deep breath as he tried to find a way to lead into the topic of his trauma.

“I just, I don’t know. He was with me through so much. So much bad shit has happened and I’ve had him through all of it, it’s hard to go through things without him, you know?” Alex said, tilting his head in Other Michael’s direction. His face got a little serious and he nodded, taking the world’s saddest hit from the joint.

“I know,” he whispered, resting his head against the wall, “I think about my Max and Isobel all the time. I wish I had them here with me.”

“Why didn’t they make it out with you anyway?” Alex asked casually. He knew why.

“Like I said, I’m weak,” Michael said, huffing a sad little laugh. Alex watched him, waiting for him to elaborate without being pushed. Eventually, he did. “Max was ridiculously strong and his specialty was electricity. We were almost 16 when he got in trouble again, he always got in trouble, and they, well, I don’t know what they did. I wasn’t there when they did it, but whatever it was set him off. He shut down the whole building we were in and I remember just hearing people screaming. One of the head doctors ran into the room I was in and grabbed me and we went into the panic room. We were in there for, like, three hours at least. When we came out, half the staff had been scorched to death, nothing left but ashes, and Max’s system had given out because of over use.”

“Jesus,” Alex breathed. Michael looked up, blinking away tears from his eyes and he swallowed hard.

“Isobel and I made a deal after that. We’d stick together. Be on our best behavior and wait for a way out,” Michael said definitively, nodding his head, “And we were. We kept getting stronger which they liked. Then they started letting us in on what the plans were. We were going to be military weapons. Who needs nuclear bombs when you can just introduce a pretty white girl to a foreign city and then have her single handedly annihilate all of them.” Michael shook his head and scoffed. “Neither of us bought into it, but it hurt to hear. Isobel got upset when we were 18 and said she refused which meant she got punished. But she fought back. I remember they dragged her away kicking and screaming and I just sat there and let them. I just… sat there and let them. I didn’t even try to help. She didn’t come back.”

“What do you mean she didn’t come back? What did they tell you happened to her?” Alex asked. Michael smiled sadly.

“They didn’t. If I asked, I got in trouble. If I said her name, I got punished. So I stopped saying her name,” Michael said. Alex started to feel really bad about trying to learn about this. “They started being really hard on me after that ‘cause I was the only one left.”

“How did you get away?” Alex asked softly.

“Told you, I’m weak,” he said, sighing and graciously taking the joint from Alex’s fingers, “I did what they said until someone else came in to help me. Dr. Wyatt snuck in to help me escape, but I was too scared. But he promised he’d help me, I just had to help him. He told me what to do. I just did the dirty work.” Michael moved his finger in a circle and tilted his head to the side as if to insinuate that he killed them all.

“Oh my God,” Alex breathed. 

“But Dr. Wyatt put me through school and therapy and helped me get a job, got me out of New Mexico, made me a citizen because I wasn’t documented before,” Michael said, shrugging his shoulder, “So I deal. Even if I can’t talk to the gorgeous barista that has my order memorized.”

Alex tried to force a soft laugh even though his heart felt heavy with his admissions. It felt even heavier whenever Alex immediately started wondering what kind of testing they did on him. He was pretty sure he could keep those to himself, though. 

On a happy note, though, this was more than Other Michael ever talked. Maybe he should get him high more often.

“Well, you’re talking to someone like him now,” Alex pointed out. Michael lulled his head to face him and, for the first time, made eye contact. 

“I missed out on so much, though,” Michael said, “A childhood, social interaction, everything. I can’t go anywhere without thinking about it for days first or already knowing how it works. I eat the same things, I go to the same places, I do the same things. I got out of a prison, but I’m still so stuck in a routine that I can’t shake. You know I’m almost 29 and I’ve never even been kissed?”

Alex looked at every inch of his face, taking in every similarity and every difference from his Michael. He was so distinctly different. There was no confusing them for one another no matter how hard he tried.

“I can be your first kiss,” Alex offered. Michael’s face turned bright red and he looked away. “Seriously, I can. It’s not like it’d be weird. It would be more to, you know, get it out of the way with someone who has pretty much already kissed you.”

Michael swallowed and looked everywhere except Alex. Until he did.

“Okay.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Yeah.

Michael’s face was still red. Alex just grinned at him. This he could do. It wouldn’t fix all the bad things he dragged up, but it would be a happy little release at the end of the conversation. They both took one last hit off the joint before Alex stubbed it out and turned to the man in question. He reached up and put his hand on his cheek, feeling how he felt so hot it damn near burned his skin.

When Alex tried to press a kiss to his lips, he just met tense, overly puckered lips. He tried not to laugh as he sat there, hoping Michael would stop having his mouth like that. However, that didn’t happen and they both pulled away with a laugh.

“You need to relax,” Alex told him, laughing easily and using his thumb to rub all the tension out of his lips. Michael was so red he was probably about to pass out from lightheadedness. 

“I wasn’t ready,” he laughed, lying through his teeth before he told the truth, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t think about it too hard, just channel your inner Drew Barrymore and be kissable,” Alex told him. Michael’s eyes went comically wide.

“What does that even mean?”

“Oh my god, you’re so uncultured, we’re watching Never Been Kissed after this,” Alex said, scooting closer. Michael laughed genuinely for probably the first time ever and Alex took that as his sign. He closed the space between them again and it went a lot smoother that time since he was relaxed. 

Alex led the way, but he took it slow and Michael followed at the same pace. Michael lifted his hand and gently gripped his arm, pulling him close. It definitely didn’t feel like his Michael. There was no big spark, no mind-numbing perfection, no desire to keep him there or his life would fall apart in his wake. But it wasn’t bad. It was like kissing a friend.

The kiss slowly ended and they stayed close. Alex was about to make a joke again, but Michael, surprising him for another time that night, spoke first.

“Can you help me with something?” Michael asked.

“You know I will.”

“Can you get me a dead car battery?” 

Alex raised an eyebrow as he pulled away, but he couldn’t say no to his eager face so just said yes.

Within the next 24 hours, Alex found himself watching an impressive act. Michael used his hands as defibrillators. He didn’t scream like Max, he just focused and did it. When Max breathed his first breath of life again, Michael quickly turned his attention to the car battery. All of the negative energy that came from that was then transferred into something meant to hold electricity instead of letting it fester. 

Alex didn’t have the words for how proud he was.

-

“Are you going to miss him when he’s gone?”

“Yeah, but I want the real Michael back.”

Alex dipped his fry into his milkshake, feeling extra tired. He’d been a little too okay recently. He and Other Michael were good friends and they talked a lot. Alex ended up telling him his life story out of guilt for prying out his and they bonded over their trauma. It was nice to have someone to talk to and who talked back and there was no pity.

But then it hit him that he was still very lonely and that note that was just a ton of I love yous still was beneath the pillow where he still slept in his ex-boyfriend’s bed after two goddamn months. So now he was sad and longing for Michael to be back even though he felt guilty for wanting to send Other Michael back to a place where he would be alone.

“What are you going to do when he comes back? Just act like you guys weren’t fighting before he left?” Isobel asked. Alex sighed slowly and shrugged his shoulders.

“No, we’re gonna talk. I’ve really learned how to talk recently,” Alex admitted. Isobel raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes. “I have.”

“With the Other Michael?”

“Yeah, with him,” he said, “Maybe that’s what he’s here for.”

“To teach you how to talk to another person?”

“Yes.”

Isobel just laughed to herself, but she didn’t argue. They both finished up their meal and started to head back to the bunker where Max already was. However, they were shocked when they got into the bunker and Michael looked at them with wild eyes.

“It’s time,” he said, “I can feel it, it’s time.”

And things moved too fast. Michael started turning knobs and Max and Isobel called Liz and Maria. It was all too fast, so fast Alex barely found time to grab Other Michael’s arm and stop him so they could talk.

“Are you gonna stop long enough to say goodbye?” Alex asked. Michael looked at him with wide eyes.

“But it’s time,” he said, “Aren’t you ready to get him back?”

“Yes,” Alex said honestly, “But you still have to say goodbye. I mean, we’ve spent two months together. Are you even ready to go home? Are you going to be okay?”

Michael gave a small smile and he nodded, eyes not quite on Alex’s but close enough.

“I’ll be okay,” he told him, “All I wanted was to see Max and Isobel again and I have. And this version of them is happier than the ones I would’ve met if I went back in my own timeline. So I think it was fate.”

“But aren’t you going to be lonely?” Alex asked. He didn’t know why he was asking. He didn’t know why it sounded like he didn’t want him to go. Michael just pulled him into a hug that Alex reciprocated easily.

“I think I’m finally gonna talk to that barista,” Michael said softly. Alex huffed a laugh and squeezed him.

“I hope it works out.”

“I know it will,” Michael insisted, “I’m meant for him like your Michael’s meant for you. I can feel it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m a lot of things, but wrong is rarely one of them.”

With a laugh, Alex pulled away and did his best not to cry. He still wasn’t sure why he was so upset. It was just… so fast. And yet not fast enough.

Michael said his goodbyes and then, in the most unceremonious of fashions, stepped through the portal.

And another stepped back out.

Alex lunged forward to catch him, checking over his body for any sign that he was hurt and they clung to each other. It was unreal how much he could feel that it was his man just by the way his body felt against his. He missed him more than he had words for.

Very reluctantly Alex let everyone hug him too and, for the next few hours, just hovered close as they all caught up with him after only a few minutes alone. It wasn’t enough. He needed hours alone with him. Days. Weeks.

There was so much lost time and he was okay. He wasn’t taking this for granted again. He refused.

That night, they found themselves in the airstream and Michael immediately noticed that Alex had been staying there.

“That is weirdly romantic,” Michael, his Michael, said as he sat on the bed. Alex laughed and just reached out to touch his face. Michael leaned into it just like the Other Michael, but it felt different. It was different. This… this was cosmic.

“I love you,” Alex admitted.

“And I love you,” he said, tugging his hips down to his lap. Alex immediately kissed him and it felt like breathing again at the feeling of his lips. When they laid back, though, it was impossible to miss the crinkling of that note. 

Michael reached for it and an embarrassed expression fell over his features as he realized what it was. Alex just took it and leaned in for another kiss. That note had kept him going for the last two months and he was going to treasure it. It was nothing to be embarrassed about.

“I’ve learned a thing or two since you left,” Alex said, “And one of them was all about talking through shit. Saw the other version of you do a lot of extraordinary things after talking through shit. So we’re going to do that, okay?”

“Okay,” Michael said, his tone telling him to continue.

“And in this note you said you’d treat me better in another life. Can’t it be this one?”

Michael stared up at him, something in his eyes that Alex couldn’t quite place. He hoped that he one day would be able to place it.

But, for right now, he was happy that he was home.

“It will be this one. But it’s you, Alex, it’s always been you.”

And, between him and the Other Michael, Alex knew it was the truth.

[asterekmess]

S3A-E6

Oh boy, here we go, Motel California is just full of absolute bullshit. *sigh* let’s get started then.

Read More’s are good for the environment (or so i’ve heard)

Before we start, I wanna let you guys know that I’m just not gonna comment on the Jennifer/Derek scenes. I just. I really honestly cannot do it. I don’t care. No. Also as this is well, this episode, please be advised that there will be extensive suicide mentions.

Thoughts:

I know this is random as hell, but that truck looks like mine. Oh, and look at the date, it’s only like nine years older than mine. nice.

why does it look like he’s nursing an arrow wound on his leg? Is it just me? That doesn’t look like a claw mark.

Can...can I just point out (god, i already need the tag) that....that they’re drawing a DIRECT parallel between this ARGENT HUNTER and Scott with the whole “lifting up the shirt to reveal the bite on their side’ thing? Like, it’s a perfect replica of when scott does it in the first episode. And they don’t do that with the others. Jackson’s bite was just Visible when he got out of the water and we never see Isaac, and Erica’s bites. Boyd’s was a whole sitting down thing on the Zamboni with his hoodie. They didn’t even do the same thing with Victoria ARGENT’s bite. OH and he’s wearing the heirloom necklace from season 1.

Wait, hold up. So, he just got bitten that night, but he’s already gonna shift? What? The bite works that fast?

....he’s from MA? Why tf is he in california? Also, he’s 27 apparently, oof.

Finstock...honey...you ran out of keys when you have like 6 students behind you still.

why is Finstock paying for Allison and Lydia’s room as well? He’s just that nice, or did he honestly forget they aren’t on the track team?

Maybe it’s just the Sterek shipper in me talking, but someone wanna explain why the fuck Stiles would put Derek on the suspect list for HUMAN SACRIFICES? Let alone TWICE? He literally just helped Derek get his pack back and has been working with them the whole time? Why???Would??He???Suspect???DEREK??? OR his sister???

I totally forgot that Scott promised Stiles he would watch Star Wars after they got back to Beacon Hills. SCOTT YOU ASSHOLE COME ON.

yeouch. You’re putting a huge damper on my Stydia brotp here Stiles. jeez.

*Movie trailer voice* He’s a hunter whose family has been torn apart by a human/werewolf war, who refuses to give up the fight against a species his clan has persecuted for centuries. He does weird detective work that makes no sense and looks like a Dark Souls ghost repeat of someone’s death. He insists on ‘staying out of things’ but then follows people around getting mad when things go wrong. Coming this summer, Chris Argent must actually learn.....to get off his ass and help.

WHY DO THEY ALL DO THE CLAW THING??? Yes, they are obviously claw marks. Why the fuck do you need to put your fingers on it?

Honestly, it makes me so sad because STiles is trying okay? Like, Boyd was pissed that Stiles acted like his friend when they never hung out, and STiles is trying to do the chill smalltalk thing, trying to point out things they have in common. He’s trying to MAKE FRIENDS and Boyd is just....uh...possessed? And still getting candy?? Huh?

Honestly, I’d do the same thing Stiles. Get that candy.

Allison, why’d you get in the shower if Lydia wasn’t back with the towels yet? How’re you planning on getting to them? You expect Lydia to come into the bathroom while you’re showering to put one there? #allydia confirmed.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS? I ALWAYS FORGET THIS HAPPENED. WHAT THE FUCK?

Okay, okay, look at that adaptation we got going on here. Remember, okay, the last time Allison was harassed sexually (which, holy shit I can’t believe this has happened twice) it was by Jackson, who was possessed by Matt. So when Scott gets super fucking creepy, instead of freaking out, her FIRST instinct is to check if he’s still himself, if he’s okay. She jumps to ‘possessed’ and tries to take care of him WHILE SHE”S NAKED IN THE SHOWER AND BEING CREEPED ON. Which, while absolutely horrendously terrifying, is also an interesting character growth. We get to see how Allison responds to the same situation, but a season later.

Really not a fan of the weird-ass focus they put on this woman’s stoma ( think that’s the word) like...are you seriously trying to make that a part of the ‘horror’ aspect of this episode? For real? what is wrong with you?

So I did the research, and actually, hotels aren’t required to tell anyone about deaths in their rooms. But they also renovate the entire room basically to clean that kind of thing up. Replacing walls and anything that can absorb liquid and even electronics. Oh, the things I google for this research. *sigh*

So, she says “since opening.” So...why does it even matter that an Argent was here? ALSO...why does the wolfsbane whistle matter? Clearly the whistle wasn’t the cause of the last howevermany (apparently 40) years of deaths, so why would it be the cause of these ones?? They gave like fifty different answers to the question of why the wolves (and only the wolves) tried to kill themselves and none of them make sense?

Hey, so...what the fuck even is this possession thing going on? What is it actually doing to these wolves? Why are they getting affected at different times? or did they all get affected at the same time, and the scene with Ethan and Danny is supposed to have been happening at the same time as the bit with Scott and Stiles? Is it supposed to like, make them more impulsive, or just drive them to do what they want to do? Boyd wants some candy, and he will get some candy. Isaac wants to watch tv so he just sits there and clicks through static endlessly. Scott wants to......fuck Allison?

Honestly? Good dad moment here. Chris. Good Dad Moment. I just, feel so bad for Allison. That when it comes down to it, she will always end up lying to her family to save Scott’s ass. Either when they’re dating and her dad wants to kill him for it, or when Scott shows up in her bathroom and grabs her and she can’t possibly tell her dad about it without Scott getting shot.

WHY do they treat that moment like it’s a big shocker that Allison was there? She TOLD her dad she would be going to help them. This shouldn’t be a surprise to him???

....wait how was allison on the phone with her dad, fully dressed and outside, but now she’s in her bra and drying her hair in the bathroom? TIMELINES. TW doesn’t HAVE them.

OKay, so Lydia says it’s only been 40 years, which would mean that the motel was only 6 years old when Alexander Argent died in it. Plus...Lydia literally says that approx. 4 deaths a year is a reasonable number? So...either this place has a lot of suicides, or it doesn’t. WHich one? Also, just because you have the warning at the beginning of the episode doesn’t mean you need to go into such callous detail about the different kinds of suicides that took place. God, that’s so tasteless.

As horrific as this moment is, I feel like I should point out that the behavior/conversation that Lydia hears...it’s nothing like what happened with the wolves. They’re talking about it, clearly nervous. But the wolves are stoic and silent. What? WHAT IS THIS PLOTLINE? IS THE MOTEL causing these suicides somehow, or are the werewolves poisoned by wolfsbane?? THESE ARE TWO DIFFERENT PLOTS. WHICH ONE IS IT?

god, I just..I can’t not point out the contrast here! Lydia is saying she heard two people die in a room across the hall, and after leading Allison there they find an empty room going through renovation. All she has to say is “they were here” and Allison believes her. No hesitation. Stiles’ childhood best friend literally shows up dead and Scott refused to believe a word he said about human sacrifice until Deaton confirmed it. Yet Lydia and Allison have known each other less than a year, and Scott and Stiles are supposed to have been friends for ages.

I just...I hate fisheye lenses. they don’t give me any horror vibes at all, they just look stupid. Personal preference.

Boyd, honey, those things are supposed to have bags in them so they can be reused.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS SCENE? WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD THEY EVER BRING THIS UP JUST TO KILL BOYD OFF LATER? WHY?

Lydia is actually very correct, remember what I said about the renovating?

God, this episode has so much...just horrible shit. I’m gonna fucking ignore it for my own sanity and just focus on how wolfy it is that Isaac wouldn’t want to sleep under the covers at a hotel because it would probably smell. Plus, bare feets. Also, why’d he go to bed so early? Did Boyd go get the ice for him, since he’s sweating so much?

I love that they are roommates.

Okay, I don’t understand. Three more suicides are about to happen. Boyd, Ethan, and I guesss...Scott? So what the fuck was up with Isaac? I just...they’re supposed to like. give into their their worst thoughts or something? Boyd’s guilt about his sister. Ethan’s....something. Scott’s...uh...self-hatred? Or, I think it’s more his lack of self-confidence? He doesn’t hate himself, he just doesn’t think he can keep going. And Isaac’s ingrained guilt of doing the wrong thing? His fear of being useless...I guess? So is it supposed to make them suicidal and Isaac’s a weird case, or does it only do that sometimes, and the rest of the time it just leaves you paralyzed with fear? This makes literally no sense.

Where has Stiles been this entire time?

Uh...that’s not how Alphas work? Just because Derek died, it wouldn’t make Scott an Alpha. Scott didn’t kill him. Even if Derek Was dead, it would’ve been from impact or from the wounds Ennis gave him. In no universe would Scott become an alpha. If it was the impact, Cora would become Alpha, as the next blood relation. If it was Ennis, the Hale Alpha spark would be gone/soaked up by Ennis.

Okay...so, Stiles was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and he didn’t hear Scott talking to the phone?

*snort* Stiles has a Nokia phone. How much do you wanna bet his dad bought that for him after the Pool Scene because he was trying to make sure Stiles didn’t break another phone?

Did...did Stiles just leave the room with the toothbrush in his mouth?

Okay, I get that this is a teen drama...but why does it have to be so obsessed with 16 and 17 year olds having sex? Seriously? It’s not the common occurrence people think it is? Now, if these were college age people...or, hell, even then it wouldn’t be this fucking common. Seriously. I don’t want eye-candy from someone who’s supposed to be 17 at MOST. Teenagers watching this might like the eye candy, but when I watched this at 17 I STILL was sick of the sexy scenes. Knock it off.

Also. Ethan IS STILL A FUCKING MURDERER.

.....uh....Ethan...do you not understand human anatomy? Giving Danny the bite wouldn’t remove the metal bars in his chest. It might heal the cartilage or whatever, but it wouldn’t REmove the BARS. Oh see that’s just creepy. Wait. OKay, are you telling me that Ethan’s thing that he wants, with this possession thing, is to bite Danny? AND HOW DOES DANNY NOT RESPOND TO THAT? HE’s supposed to know about werewolves, which means he HAS to be getting what Ethan’s going for. WTF?

...what the FUCk kind of voldemort “love and monsters” kinda bullshit was that? What does that have to do with Ethan’s deepest fear/insecurity?

I am...so confused. FIrst off, I love having Allison, Lydia, and Stiles all chillin’ trying to figure things out. THat’s amazing. But how do they know something’s up with Isaac? Also, it contradicts what I was theorizing before when Allison says the last time she saw Scott like that it was a full moon. Now I’m even more creeped out? WHy would they have her fully believe that it’s Scott, and just...let him be a fucking creep? Why would they openly admit that he’s been that terrifying with her before and then just...be chill about it? Also, when did she actually see Scott act like that? When he did it on his second moon Allison never saw him bc Derek tackled him into the woods. When did Scott go all creeper on her? Is this a REgular OCCUrREncE?

I know it was wasn’t intentional, but it’s such an adhd mood for Stiles to see the paper sticking out of the bible and just snatch at it. most people would call that ‘attention to detail’ but like...I just see it as ‘wtf is this, gotta know gotta know” mooood.

Why does Stiles go running to the next room like it’s an emergency, and what is the relevance of these articles in the bibles? LIke, yeah, you knew there were a ton of suicides. How does this help?? God, it’s like they were trying to make it a mini-horror film, but they just suck at understanding what the right order is to put things. FInding those articles should’ve been something that happened at the beginningin order to create a sense of unease, not in the middle of figuring things out!

how exactly did Stiles get the damn door open if it was locked? For that matter, how did Ethan know the handsaw was there? Was he on his way to talk to Lydia and Allison, or was he heading for Scott and Stiles’ room to get help? WHat’s going on???

Thank you Allison for not just Standing There. And Lydia for having a BRAIN. <3

HOW DID STILES HOLD BACK ETHAN? Ethan IS AN ALPHA? HOW?

OKay. I know I said I wouldn’t comment on these scenes with Jennifer, but this is just a general observation. DEREK. YOU HAVE A CELL PHONE. YOU ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF CALLING PEOPLE FROM THE BED.

What...what does that mean Ethan? “You probably shouldn’t have.” WHat?

I know it’s supposed to be for the Allison/Scott angle, but I just love Lydia and Stiles heading to save the pack. *sigh*

I gotta say, I actually really respect Stiles for straight up telling Lydia about the parallels he’s seeing. Rather than hide it from her, he’s trying to get to the root of the problem, point blank and he’s being honest with her about his worries that she might be involved without even knowing it. And she listens and doesn’t get immediately defensive. This communication is SO GOOD. Stydia BROTP.

I’m fucking on the verge of tears. Sinqua, your acting is just...like, you barely speak in this scene and yet your face is just??So pained?

Bare feets. I know I point it out a lot, but like, compared to kali, who keeps her claws out all the time even in like a fucking hospital. It’s so cute to see Boyd and Isaac wandering barefoot in their hotel room. Just, the level of calm it implies, despite the situation. They feel so safe with each other.

ALSO did Boyd go through all of that while Isaac was under the bed?

WAIT WHAT? WHy is Lydia suddenly all pissed off? WHAT? That makes no sense! But then when she says his name, she doesn’t sound upset at all?? WHAT?

ALSO, I thought this was supposed to be about suicides? Why did they add this totally random (and horrific) thing? It has nothing to do with BoYD! JUST BECAUSE YOU PUT A TRIGGER WARNING DOESN”T MEAN YOU NEED TO MUSH AS MUCH FUCKED UP SHIT AS POSSIBLE INTO ONE EPISODE. GOD. It’s like those people who assume just because they’re allowed to do R rated shit, they have to have random sex scenes in their tv show.

where did Scott get gasoline? Like...where?

God fucking damn it, how fucking demonizing can you get, fucking juxtapositioning Scott’s suicidal monologue about Derek suffering and being dead, then jumping to Derek fucking someone instead of telling anyone he’s alive? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Why is it literally ANY TIME Stiles or Derek are in some way happy (NOT that I’m considering Derek at that moment in time Happy or in any way okay) they always make it out to be the most horrible thing ever? It’s like I said before, Stiles smiling on the field because he actually gets to play lacrosse? Jackson’s about to die. Stiles happy because he’s going to play a game in class? His best friend is missing. Derek....I’m not even going to give what’s going on a name. But then they just layer that over Scott...what even is he doing? Everyone else actually tried to kill themselves. Why is he just...standing there? Are they seriously trying to make the claim that his strength of will is so strong he’s the only one could can hold out against the...whatever the fuck is causing this? Jesus fucking christ do you have to turn him into Jesus every time? SERIOUSLY?

YOU DIDN”T THOUGH. SCOTT YOU LITERALLY REFUSED TO FIGHT BACK. YOU PLANNED A RENDEVOUS WITH DEUCALION BEHIND EVERYONE’S BACK BECAUSE YOU INSISTED FIGHTING BACK WAS WRONG. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD IF DEREK AND THE OTHERS HADN”T COME TO FIND YOU.

...I get that this is supposed to be an emotional moment, but why the fuck does Scott’s monologue about how much he sucks have to drag Stiles down with him? Stiles was literally always good at lacrosse. He never got ‘better’ before being put on the field. You saying that the both of you were ‘nothing’ is a terrible, horrible thing to say because you’re implying that because Stiles didn’t get the bite like you did, the only thing that makes him more than nothing is being your friend. How does Scott manage to be a total asshole even when he’s in the middle of explaining why he wants to die?

AGAIN WITH THE RANDOM PLOTLINES. DAVIS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? IS THE HOTEL HAUNTED, OR IS THE WHISTLE FULL OF WOLFSBANE OR IS THE DARACH ACTIVELY MAKING THEM KILL THEMSELVES? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? ANd why would the Darach be making them kill themselves?? THey don’t match any of her sacrifice requirements! This makes no sense with the plotline you follow for the rest of the season!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SCENE? Scott was NOWHERE NEAR Ethan? WHY THE FUCK DID HE GIVE SCOTT THE CREDIT FOR SAVING HIS LIFE? And why would he thank him for it, when he told Stiles he shouldn’t have been saved? WHAT IS GOING ON?

Also, why does Ethan have like, a bruise thing on his cheek? Is that...is that a skin thing, or like, a show thing?

This doesn’t solve the problem of Allison’s car being stuck with an empty tank at the side of the road halfway to Beacon Hills.

dude. you realize that was literally 34 years ago? Deucalion would have to be like 50. and even then he would’ve been a fucking 16 year old Alpha. So that makes Deucalion more likely in his 60s. Also, why the fuck do you care Chris? This is such a random fucking thing. It makes no sense. What the fuck does it matter now?

Last Thoughts: What the fuck even is this episode? It’s like this steaming dumpster fire of half-assed ideas and loose ends to plots we’ll never see and really shitty horror movie vibes. We’re talking D List or maybe E list horror movies. I’m honestly disgusted? I can’t remember the last time I had to watch something so tasteless and cruel and insensitive in every single way?

.....on to the next episode, I guess. God, I need to change all of this in the rewrite, and I don’t know if I can actually make it good?

[bunkernine]

Are there any horror movies you'd rec to someone who usually doesn't watch horror, but wants to get into it?

OOOO yeah!!! 😓 i feel like i was asked this before but i can't find it so let's see:

it really depends on how much you can take tho! like gore is a big thing to take into account and if you're not into gore or something like blood and guts makes you squeamish, then that counts out entire genres of horror. then you'll need to figure out if you like slow burns or psychological horrors 🤔 and it's very easy to say horror is haunting, but even paranormal stuff can't click for some people.

modern horrors and stuff from say, the 80s are VERY different in style too. and i can't tell if you're into mindless slashers or something kinda deeper.

that's said, it's pretty easy to get into horror movies!!! what i like isn't everyone's cup of tea but hopefully you find something:

👻 the conjuring universe: (aka the conjuring, the conjuring 2, the nun, annabelle, annabelle creation, annabelle comes home, the curse of la llorona) → possession, ghosts, jumpscares, demons, exorcisms... movies vary in quality and scariness but feel free to watch them in chronological order or release order

👽 alien franchise (there's 6 of them) → self explanatory (aliens lol) but DEFINITELY check warnings if u worry about something

🐺 teen wolf (1985) → what the show is based off, werewolf 80s nonsense. it's fun stuff... think, thriller music video 💀

🧩 escape room (2019) → diverse cast, might be more thriller tbh, going into it you know exactly what's going to happen. there's a very bad flashing scene. this movie isn't very notable but i think it's pretty representative of where modern horror is heading

🌲 cabin in the woods → satire but not like scary movie comedy, has.. every horror trope 💀 i always forget chris hemsworth was in this 💀

🔞 it follows → not everyone likes it, but i do, it's more psychological

🔪 nightmare on elm street series → i only recommend the first two but it's SOOO funny to me. the remake is scarier but i do not rec that... slasher, blood, cheesy gore

🧏‍♀️ hush → protag is not stupid which is refreshing and u just want her to survive so much, deaf protag, slasher

🐍 piranhaconda → this is fucking hilarious and leads to the whole genre of like, giant animals and stuff 💀 like, sharknado, snakes on a plane, arachnophobia... gore, cheesy cgi

👧 the exorcist (1973) → classic!!!! it really started the genre of exorcisms imo 💕 a must-see

clearly, i can not capture all of horror and i ignored thrillers like silence of the lambs or literally any alfred hitchcock movie, but i like flashier things 😌 hereditary is one of my favorite movies but i don't think i would give it to someone starting out with horror. personally i don't care for the 90s era, for example, but other people do, so you should def do ur own research!!!

and i will say that trailers can give you a good idea of a movie, but not all trailers are made equal. sometimes it's easy to tell when the scariest scenes are in the trailer, but also the trailers can be VERY misleading in other movies.

and of course, here are some others i like lol, it's changed a little since then but i think there are solid movies here, especially for more modern ones

[youarejesting]

My fics in 2020

I am proud of this year. I worked hard until the end. 2020 was my year of finishing my stories. I have done so much and next year I want to do more. So keep an eye out Jester will take over.

Fandom(s): BTS, mentions of NCT, BLACKPINK, MONSTA X.

Networks:@btscreatorscorner @castlebangtan

Total Fics: 34

Total chapters: 404

Total Words: 565,587 Total vids and fake subs: 13 

Best and Worst Title?

Best: ‘Music is the spark that sets my soul on fire’ and its sequel ‘Dance is the celebration of the flame’

Worst: The Check Up

Best and Worst first line?

Best: Yoongi never understood why people would say one's blood is important. (Mania)

Worst: It all started in Mykonos. (Steal my sunshine)

Best and Worst ending line?

Best: “I got you this pretty dress” Seokjin grinned showing you the dress before hugging you and giving your forehead a kiss, “Let’s go burn it” (Me & the ghost in number 23)

Worst: But all you got was a sharp-toothed smile. (Pandemonium)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than, or about what was expected?

I think I wrote what I expected, but I think I could have definitely finished more. Which is a bit upsetting.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year? 

I don’t have limitations to my writing so nothing is deemed unpredictable.

I am however generally surprised by my love of throwing in twists and also gore, I love gore.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Wild space: it is strange because I am not particularly a fan of space and scifi, but I am really into writing world building things and having the ability to create a whole planet was amazing.

Most popular story? 

Tumblr:

Seoulmates

Femme

Quarantine

AO3: 

Quarantine

BTS365

Love Listening

Story most underappreciated by the universe? 

Tiny Tan: Limited Edition

Story that could have been better? 

All

Sexiest story?

 Love Listening

Saddest story? 

 Me & the ghost in number 23

Fluffiest story? 

Mall Santa

Most fun story? 

BTS Among Us 

Hardest story to write? 

Kisaeng

Daylight (i'm still writing it haha)

Easiest/most fun story to write? 

Light it up

What story took the longest?

365 lol took all year

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? 

The biggest risk I took all year was posting my work. Living life on the edge.

What are your fic writing goals for next year? 

To double my writing

Fics that you wrote in 2020:

BTS365: 365 mini stories ✓ fluff, comedy, angst, romance, mature, action, adventure, smut. This has it all. Find your birthday and read your story. I wanted to give something unique to people.

Quarantine: 100 Chapters ✓ Something to accompany you while you are alone during quarantine and the pandemic. I was lonely and I figured so was everyone else. So, I decided to have BTS help us all go on an adventure that didn’t focus on the covid virus but on some other aspects around it.

Femme: 50 Chapters ✓ A futuristic world where women are rare. This was an indulgement fic that gave circumstances for the reader to be in a polyamorous relationship with the boys and live a glamorous life. Ending was a bit rushed.

Seoulmates: 29 (ongoing) Each member of BTS has a unique soulmate bond. I love the idea of this, another indulgent fic but you aren’t alone with the boys you have friends and you can play different parts.

Witching: 11 Chapter ✓ When your brother goes missing trying to find them gets you in a turf war between two covens. This fic was actually a way for me to vent for a project I wanted to complete but the project is so big that I wrote this instead.

Herb: 2 Parts ✓ mature, smut. Jimin claims he has everything you need, he doesn’t disappoint. I came across this idea within the 365’s and extended it because I liked the idea so much. Jimin has everything from casseroles to scarfes, cat food to cell phone chargers and the reader just wants to be loved and relieve stress.

Limited Edition: 10 Chapters ✓ BTS boys are sold as limited edition figurines. This was originally me venting about not having any merch and then became a daydream that what if the merch came alive. And the story was born.

BTS Among Us: 7 Chapters ✓ gore, action, adventure, scifi, angst, death of main characters. This one was so funny for me, I had my friend pick a colour and that was the imposter from the start. I was amazed that no one figured it out in the end. I want to play again soon.

Light it up: 13 Chapters ✓ fluff, comedy, angst, romance, mature, action, adventure. This was inspired by the dynamite trailer, I loved it so much that I began writing, I had no clear direction but as I wrote it started to shape and someone said it was like stranger things and I credited Stranger things cause it did indeed have a similar premise and I don’t want to pretend I came up with something that has already been done.

Love listening: 2 Parts ✓ SMUT, comedy, fluff, angst, romance, mature. This was inspired by a strange video that came up on the internet, I was searching for BTS misheard lyrics and the video I clicked had some funny ones but after that the next suggested video was bts moans and auto play was on and well this fic was born.

Me & the ghost in Number 23: 11 ✓ fluff, comedy, scifi, supernatural, romance, angst, mature, smut, death of main character. This was inspired by many of the ghost text au’s I had read but many of them were like the show oh my ghost where the main ghost character isn’t actually dead just in a coma and I thought the opposite way instead of them waking up, I wanted things to shape the other way. This one was so difficult to write and I cried a lot due to the loneliness Jimin was facing and the mourning from Yoongi.

Hope in the sheets: 4 chapters (so far) fluff, comedy, smut, adventure, slice of life, romance, angst, mature, growing up. This one is a fic that targets my childish desires. I have grown up so much and this fic is a visual representation of that. 

Asks: 77 (ongoing) where the bts boys answer the readers questions and concerns.

Reactions: 15 (ongoing) 

Prompts: 18 (ongoing)

One shots:

Kisaeng: This was a reverse fic project, the idea that instead of Mulan pretending to be a man and going off to war, it was BTS dressing as women to stay home from war. I loved writing about fictional history. 

Steal my Sunshine: This was a summer project. I wanted to write something that felt like a very bad spy movie, like Mellissa Mccarthy and Mr Bean-esque. I formed this one and it made me laugh the whole time writing it.

Blue Side: This was talking to myself about being sad and admitting that I could be sad but I should learn to split the happy and sad into two worlds and limit my time in them both, it was about equal balance and finding the good in the sad and the sad in the good. I don’t know how hard to explain.

Temptation: I had fun writing but it is pure SMUT. not even good SMUT.

Pandemonium: This was really fun. The premise is dark and the ending is left ambiguous, in the original, Namjoon kills the reader but I left it open so you can imagine them continuing their relationship or not.

Mall santa: A fluffy christmas piece. A secret santa I wrote that I felt needed to be soft and quirky and have just all the hallmark moments.

Mad: This one is finished, but I have it published privately at the moment waiting to unveil it as it is well SMUTTY. I don’t know what it is about Taehyung but he is always so dark and I guess that's what people find appealing. I had this idea from a 365prompt and well I had to write it.

One wish: This was a birthday fic that I wrote for a friend. I wanted people to read it on their birthdays or imagine their birthdays and themselves in this position if they made the same wish.

The Check Up: I wrote for this for a friend going through a personal procedure, they were nervous so I took their bias and made something I hoped they could think about while in the procedure and I even explained the steps and what might happen over the next few days hoping the whole thing wouldn’t seem as scary because technically her mind had already been through it when reading the story.

Sparks of the heart: Robots developing human feeling. It was a cute universe and Yoongi’s story will be a series within 2021.

Dance machine 3000

Digital Art

Electronic Tonic

Circuit chef

Random Access Memory

Kookies Trojans and Malware

Feel Better: Another fic written for a author who was sick, I wanted them to endulge in some escapism whilst they were sick.

Music is the spark that sets my soul on fire & Dance is the celebration of the flame: These two were requests that I loved dearly.

Horror movies: Cheesy damsel in distress meets boys will be boys.

I will wait (somesay): This song wouldn’t get out of my head so I had to write it.

Wild Space: When I wanted to write a hybrid AU but I already have a hybrid AU being edited. So hybrid werewolves meets space.

The Bomb: This one is compete and ready to post I had to talk myself out of writing this as a series but I love the story line. I love the end.

Lost Boys: This has been stuck in my head since i had a dream about it and I finally wrote it into the new year. I hope you like it.

Mania: Not my favourite work, love ABO universe I just haven’t got an actually story line so it is on hold.

Incaceration: The story that never was, I really need to get around to this one.

Tagging: @moccahobi I know you wanted to tag me... but I am finished so I am tagging you.

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter Three

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang​! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society.Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter Three – The Troubles Begin

“ - the riot appears to have originated inside of an office building in Toledo, where the CEO of Marino Corps was evidently thrown from the top floor window. The cause of the riot is unknown, but it has grown both in number and in scale of violence. The hospitals in the area are overflowing with victims, many of whom are suffering from bite wounds - “

Click.

“ - and if the tropical storm continues on this path, it will run directly in front of Hurricane Beth. The resulting storm will make land fall with Florida - “

Click.

“ - is the streak of violence we’re currently seeing in large cities a result of drugs, a side affect of the vaccine, or something else entirely? Today on The Sooty Orange we’re going to discuss - “

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Carson groans. “Everything sucks. Just hit the radio.”

Eddie stretches over and clicks on the radio instead, oldies crooning into the quiet trailer park. “Man, why is it so hard to just find something fun to watch, huh? What happened to playing movies and stuff?”

“Dunno. It’s a real drag first thing in the morning, though,” says Carson. They’ve got a spread of coffee in mismatched cracked mugs on the little table in front of them, along with a few microwaved breakfast burritos and an open bag of sweet chili pepper flavored chips. “You work today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to hit up the garage this evening.”

“Ugh. So we still aren’t going to get the truck up?”

“Part might be in today. I’ll check on it,” says Eddie.

They aren’t talking about the news and they aren’t talking about the agents, and that’s just facts. They didn’t need to speak about it. They just both sort of came to that conclusion. No point in discussing something that can’t be changed, and Eddie won’t say a word on the Mulborne case, not even to Carson.

They eat and change and head off on their own separate ways, passing Bonnie Barker and her dog Poncho on the way out of the trailer park. She waves at them and the dog goes nuts barking. It’s cloudy and gross out, and Eddie has a really bad feeling that it’s just going to be a bad damn day.

* * *

The little black car is parked outside of the mechanic shop, and the moment that Eddie gets close to it none other than Agent Russo steps out. He’s got this awful slicked back hair and a stupidly expensive looking suit. The other agent isn’t there.

“Ugh. You again?” Eddie squints at him and sucks on his front teeth. “I told you, man, I don’t know anything about the Mulborne case.”

“Something tells me that’s not the truth. I’ve looked into you, Eddie Burke. In and out of trouble for years. You’ve got a record a mile long, and you were the last recorded person seen speaking to those missing tourists,” says Russo. “I think that the two of us need to have a little talk.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Eddie makes to walk in past him but the agent grabs him by the elbow, wrenching him to the side. “Hey! Get the Hell off of me, man!”

“I don’t know how you people do it out here, but let me tell you this,” says Russo. “When I say we need to have a talk, it’s not something that’s up for debate.”

A sharp whistle splits through the air. “Alright, boys. That’s enough. You want to talk to him, you get here with a warrant or you do it off my property,” says Penny. “That’s how it works around here, boy. And you, Eddie, you get to work. I got a car that needs the tires changed out, pronto.”

Eddie jerks his arm out of Russo’s grip, flips him off, and scurries into the garage. There’s not actually a car needing the tires changed so he mostly just loiters around until Penny comes inside, shaking her head.

“This is a whole lot of bad business that we don’t need to be dealing with right now,” says Penny, clucking her tongue. “I don’t like that man poking around none. You think someone needs to go out and give Benny a heads up?”

Eddie hops up onto one of the counters. “No way. Benny’s on his own.”

Penny purses her lips. “Neighborly.”

“Hey, I ain’t neighbors with him,” says Eddie. “You want to hike all the way out there for this, you be my guest. I’ve got enough that I’m dealing with. You been keeping track of this storm?”

“Yeah,” says Penny. “We’ll have to close up shop if it gets too much closer.”

“Red’s still planning on going out to his cabin. That dumbass.”

“Really? I don’t think I’d want to go out in this kind of weather.”

“You’re telling me,” mutters Eddie. “Hey, do you actually have work for me today?”

Penny gives him another pinched smile. “Yep. You’re gonna work on my boat motor. Put those skinny fingers of yours to good use for a change.”

Eddie groans. He hates working on boats but – cash is cash, he supposes.

* * *

Eddie swings by the gas station on the way home from work to buy a six pack. TJ’s working and Rat’s hanging off him out at the front counter, the door to the beak room blocked open with a tire iron and the grainy box screen style TV showing off the national news; the riots are spreading across the country, hitting every major city. There’s talk of it possibly being related to the vaccine or even a new street drug that’s being passed around, something similar to a hyped up bath salt.

“That’s stupid,” says Rat. “I’ve done those before, and no one out in some big city pent house is going to snort bath salts.”

“Coke,” says TJ.

Rat squints at him. “Coke doesn’t make you bite people.”

“Nah,” says TJ. He lights a cigarette. “But that’s what they do, you know. At those fancy parts. Snort coke.”

“Gimme one of those.” Eddie wiggles his fingers at the pack.

Rat pipes in, “oh, if he’s having one, I want one too!”

TJ grouses and grumbles but passes them each a smoke. “You owe me for that.”

Rat sticks out his tongue. “Join the club. I owe everyone.”

“Man, after the day I had, I deserve one of these. You all seen those feds running around?” Eddie asks. “Can you believe they’re out here about Benny?”

Rat perks up. He’s actually pretty good friends with Benny, even despite everything that’s happened. “What, really?”

The bell above the door chimes and they glance over almost as a group, only for Smith to come walking in. She heads for the back of the store, grabbing a few things from the little center rack where all the pre packaged and over priced sandwiches only tourists buy are at.

And sure, maybe the smart thing to do would be to just shut up, and stay quiet, and let the whole thing blow over, but Eddie’s never been particularly smart. He’s sharp and mean and good with his fists, and he scuttles across the gas station, still clutching his bummed cigarette, just so he can get right up in Smith’s face and tell her, “you need to make that little attack dog of yours back the Hell off. I didn’t do shit, you hear me?”

Smith, clutching a plastic wrapped chunk of carrot cake pulls back. “Excuse me?”

“I said that you need to back off. I don’t care who the Hell you people are. If that asshole shows up at my work again, I’m gonna clock him,” says Eddie, all teeth, and from the other side of the gas station Rat crows with laughter.

“Shit! Did you have the feds sicced on you?” Rat jams his cigarette out against the top of the counter. “That’s a trip!”

“I – have no idea what you’re talking about,” says Smith.

“Yeah, I totally believe that.” Eddie takes a step back, takes a drag off his cigarette. “You people come tearing in here and start shit, but you know what? No one around here is gonna put up with that. We got enough troubles happening. We don’t need you dragging up old ghosts that are already put in the ground.”

“What? No, that’s not – we already discussed that,” says Smith, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize that he was going to try and follow up on a dead lead. I’m very sorry. If there was an issue with your work place because of this, I can – I’ll happily speak with them tomorrow.”

The apology is so out of the blue that it takes Eddie off guard. He freezes, glances over at the counter. TJ shrugs his shoulders.

Smith continues, “we’re not looking to cause issues for anyone. We’re just doing our job, same as anyone else. I’ll speak with Russo. It won’t happen again.”

She steps around Eddie, all neat as can be, pays for her wares, and leaves. Just like that. As if it’s all nothing.

In the wake of it, Eddie sidles back up to the counter and puts out his cigarette in the little fish shaped ash tray. “I’m outta here. Just ring me up for the beer.”

TJ does, the chime of the register, and says, “I don’t know. I think I would’ve spilled the beans already.”

“You say anything to those agents, I’ll break your face,” warns Eddie, the words a sort of harshness that only comes from fear. “You got that?”

Rat cheerfully chimes in, “I’ll totally help.”