#me personally id be a little scared for them but also excited for stories of them causing chaos (dottore specially)

[fatuismooches]

its like... late and i need to dump all the little angst scenarios i think of in my dumb little head (i didnt include all of the harbingers because i didnt have ideas for all of them... sob sniff) (i need someone you understand and u are the #1 fatui lover in my heart)

After the funeral of the readers beloved, the tsaritsa never know that the readers tears were harsher than her blizzards (this sounds so corny but it's late plea)

The reader begging their harbinger s/o not to go on a mission in the nation the traveler is at because they're so paranoid that they'll end up in a coffin as well. (this could work in the same universe as the previous one) (Oh No .)

Dottore's lover feeling inadequate to his intelligence, so they end up staying up until ungodly hours studying and Dottore doesn't notice due to his lack of a need for sleep, causing them to collapse due to exhaustion while helping Dottore with his experiments

Columbina's lover practicing so hard for a duet they're supposed to perform that they end up losing their voice the day before the performance

Capitano's lover growing frustrated yet feeling selfish at him treating them like glass. They know it's because he's being overly weary of his strength, but they'd rather be crushed in a hug than treated like a porcelain doll that'll crack at the slightest gust of wind (it took me, way too hard to spell porcelain it was humiliating .)

Back to the handmade gift darling for pantalone.. Pantalone's darling who feels so frustrated because they know their gifts will never amount to the beautiful accessories he can just buy, unable to realize it's the love behind them that Pantalone cherishes

La Signora's lover wanting to be someone she can rely on, but it's early in the relationship and her heart has not yet melted for the reader. The reader wonders if it's their fault, not knowing La Signora just doesn't know how to deal with pure hearted love again.

Scaramouche's lover being mistaken for a caretaker because of the height difference /JOKING ILL BE SERIOUS

Scaramouche's lover often feeling themselves get closer to succumbing to their mortality. It's the little things, but it makes them oh so paranoid.. They've done everything to try to stop it, hell they even went to The Doctor about it against Scaramouche's wishes, but there's nothing that isn't.. inhumane that can happen. If they take the offer is up to you to decide <3

(cw; vomit) Arlecchino's lover who is a performer, who gets so nervous and paranoid about messing up that they end up vomiting backstage, causing the performance to have to take an emergency intermission/delay depending on how large the role the reader was playing. (I don't think she'd know immediately? i think she'd have to hear some like, other actors gossiping about it to realize)

- 🎈 is going insane

🎈 ANON WHO HURT YOU..........

Though only Harbingers were allowed to be at the funeral for another Harbinger, out of courtesy, you were allowed to be there as well. Did you care about the looks you were getting from the others? No. All you could see was your beloved's coffin that they should not be in. They should be by your side, still in this world. But they weren't and would never be ever again. Should you have tried harder to convince them not to go? You should have accompanied them at the very least. Maybe you could have protected them somehow. But no one can turn back time. (We know reader is gonna be on the Traveler's ass from then on... they are NOT safe. Reader gets a personal apology and head pat from the Tsaritsa though... she knows what they're going through.)

STOP THE DOTTORE ONE ACTUALLY HIT ME CUZ THAT'S SOMETHING I'D PROBABLY DO 😭💔 It was so hard sometimes, always comparing yourself to him, not to mention, you knew other people looked down on you because surely there was no someone like you could ever compare to the intelligence of the Doctor? And well, they were probably right, but that didn't make it hurt any less :( Yet no matter how much you tried you always felt inferior to his brilliance, and in fact only managed to hinder him more with your lack of performance.

You were so scared about not being able to live up to Columbina's voice, that you'd only mess up and thus damage her reputation and embarrass the both of you to all of Snezhnaya. You could not bear for that to happen and forced yourself to practice even more by yourself without Bina knowing. She is far more upset by the fact you hurt yourself rather than the performance :( (But she will have to call up Dottore for a quick remedy dw)

CAPITANO 😭😭 It bothered you a little bit at first, but you thought as the relationship moved on he would too, and he would realize that you're not as weak as he thinks, and he should have more faith in himself! You're wrong. It's been months and he's still scared to even do the basics of affection. And it's driving you crazy. You just want your husband... to *be* your husband! You want to hug him and be picked up bridal style and be carried and all of the sort! You're going to have to have a serious talk with him and hopefully Capitano will understand before he loses his spouse 🚶‍♀️

breaking down at Pantalone's... 🎈 ANON ARE U OK. You loved making handmade gifts for your beloved but you couldn't help but compare them to others. How could your little trinkets ever hold up to the expensive and professionally made ones? Yours were practically nothing to them, there was no real value in them and were easily discarded. You start to get a bit embarrassed by them and stop making it, to which Pantalone is confused. (Little do you know Pantalone much more cares for the sentimental value of your gifts, the fact that you pour so much time, energy, and most importantly love, into it, warms his heart far more than you'd ever know.)

SIGNORA MY BABY NO. She hasn't been vulnerable in so long, to the point where she doesn't even know how to open herself up again, especially in a romantic manner. She loves you, she really does, but she simply cannot give herself to you completely yet. It's a long, enduring process... one that you would absolutely wait for no matter the duration. Unfortunately, the communication skills are not the best as Signora doesn't know how to convey this to you nor do you know how to bring it up.

HELP SCARAAAA 😭 If you're taller than him then he'll definitely always be salty about it 💀 But ahem. Moving onto the angst. You are literally so big brained because I kind of wrote something like this for a Scara fic but scraped it but!! YES!! I imagine after reader hears Scara's backstory, all the people he has lost and was "betrayed" by, they would never want to put him through that kind of suffering and pain ever again. You do not want to be another "betrayal" in his life. And who else knows the answer to immortality, a longer life, better than the Doctor he's been working with...? The scientist promises that it won't hurt... not too much at least. He'll see what he can do... with some compromises in return.

You always loved performing, but even you got the jitters. Sometimes. Well, most of the time actually. And it was even worse when you knew your lover would be watching. You were terrified of messing up, to not living up to her high standards. You could handle criticism but thinking of the possible sharp and harsh words Arlie could give you made you sick with worry and fear. Unbeknownst to Arlecchino, she had no idea you were so caught up with what other people thought.

Not you giving me mega brainrot,,, these will permanently be etched into my tiny little brain

[sakasakied]

hcs for the one and only old man rei please. thanks

I RUSHEDDDD TO ANSWER THIS BECAUSE I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY. DID YALL KNOW REI IS ACTUALLY MY #1 BABYGIRL TIED WITH NATSUME AND IZUMI SORRY I CANNOT CHOOSE ACKXOCODOWODOOW SORRY ENOUGH RAMBLE. send more abt those 3 i beg. also might get long so this will be under a readmore

rei rei rei. ok now i probably think this for a lot of my favs but i'm really into teasing rei. him being totally into humiliation wohhh @ _ @ but not in the degrading way natsume does. do y'all get it like he doesn't do mean words but he loves to fluster you a lot. if ur the type of person who gets flustered easily like me oh boy ur in big trouble with this man.

it's actually canon ok. he's always teased people like anzu since forever (i've read most of the stories that feature rei i would KNOW. also that scene in dark night halloween made me weak sorry) so how would he not be with you?

ik he's already graduated but sometimes he would visit the light music club room to reminisce about his days in yumenosaki. and he would of course visit at night. and he would also fuck you in that very same room where his fellow club members would hold practices LOL... for him it's apparently the most perfect place to bury his dick inside u, on that very club room floor. it also plays a bit into his exhibitionism kink. remember that some students stay until night at yumenosaki so there's always the chance of someone walking in. maybe even someone like koga could see.

“you’re clearly enjoying this, aren���t you? are you not afraid of the possibility of someone walking in on us? or does it excite you rather?” and he'll watch in delight as you tighten up from those words.

he's like super into sensory stuff. like breathing down ur nape. lightly dragging his teeth, or even better, his fangs across the dip of where ur neck meets ur shoulder wtf do u even call that. feathery touches with his fingers. he would use stuff like blindfolds to make u more sensitive to whatever he'll do to u. depriving u from seeing him, u wait in anticipation for his next move, only depending on the shifting of the bed or the sound of his voice to guess whatever antics he was up to.

i bet he has lots of thoughts about sharing u with ritsu. the other would Hate sharing u and keep u to himself (possessive much) but rei would be soooo all for it. sakuma sandwich woooooo best thing ever. (let's include undead & the five eccentrics but i'm mostly for sakuma sandwich)

AND OFC WE WILL NEVER EXCLUDE ANY KINKS RELATED TO HIS VAMPIRISM. i love vampires so much bro if i met a vampire irl id have sex with them despite being a bit repulsive abt irl sex. but anyways. something about vampirism is just very erotic

vampire rei that lurks the night searching for a victim, scouting each bedroom window for suitable prey. until he lays his eyes upon you. the perfect bloodbag. normally, he'd drain his victims dry and leave them to die, but he'd never do that to you. he'll keep you alive. he'll also keep you healthy to keep your blood fresh and delicious. oh my god

ok outside that little au i think he's very hesitant about all-out biting you unless you really ask for it. he doesn't want you to be scared of him or get too hurt, so you really have to ask. he'll nibble a little at first, being really careful not to actually puncture you with his fangs, but if you convince him to really draw blood then he will. forget him hating blood it's for the intimacy ok. besides he thinks u look nice decorated with two puncture wounds dripping with the scarlet fluid :3

[fruiteggsaladit]

Shizubo, to me:

[ID: Spongebob "okay. get in." meme, edited to emulate a visual novel template: Spongebob is frowning and pointing to the coffin, inside is a still from the Cat Transcending meme. In the foreground, Patrick with Spongebob's excited face and being Gripped by another/the same Spongebob. Subtitles: "get in." "No, I'm scared--" "Get. In." The Cat Transcending meme has words overlaid it, saying "Transdendence/Torment Nexus" and "Any truth can be endured, so long it replaces everything it destroys.*"/END ID.]

(Spongebob here being Shizuru, Patrick being Botan, the Transcendence/Torment Nexus being character development of some kind)

* The quote is paraphrased from The Trouble of Being Born by Emil Cioran! I tried finding the exact quote but could only rely on my memory, sorry abt that!

"Does Shizuru not have any struggles in these hyperspecifics?" Good question! This is beginning to enter category 3: We're making up this shit up, it's based very little on anything in canon, probably, to be on the safe side. Once again we're being hyperspecific to my own fanons and likes and dislikes-- To me I think it'd be very fitting if Shizuru would've made for a good Spirit Detective in regards to what the Spirit Office wants in an SD. I think they'd looked over her files post-Yusuke-getting-resurrected and been like "Oh she's perfect, Koenma-sama why didn't we look at this one before??"

Koenma: *sweats* bc One Retirement By Marriage Later he was feelin' Very Mysogynist Or At Least More Than Usual--

If they had a way to force her into a contract w them,

- like Yusuke, maybe through Kuwabara? Like Kuwa dies and she's offered the chance to resurrect him if she works for them? Or he died and was made SD but bc Shizuru is his sister, she takes over the job so he doesn't have to do it (all according to keikaku)?,

- Then they'd have a powerful psychic like Kuroko or Sensui again, but nip any hope of retirement or heelturn in the bud. And otherwise she strikes me as a person who could fool herself into thinking any/most of the violence or torture she inflicts while on the clock is for the greater good. Her violence being the more overt "punch them till they talk" "threats work for me" "I won't punch someone who doesn't deserve it and I definitely always know when they deserve it" is a very nice foil to Botan's "this surely isn't work abuse right this is normal" "this is just bildungsroman but in real life" "u wouldn't punch a guy w glasses would you?? (grabbed glasses that aren't hers)" "hold on, you can't punch humans to death that's against the law!", I think.

I also like a lot the concept of Shizuru being Kuwabara's ideal of chivalry loathe as he is to admit it (the sibling dislike of giving credit to the other hehe) and having the potential to embody or grow to embody it toxically, and/or as a matter of decline or deterioration.

Canonically I know she's very relaxed and almost apathetic except for comedic reasons: the one way I can think of her getting more involved is to make her care abt Spirit Office affairs involving themselves w her brother, but there's probably and definitely other ways of making her more involved with a story than realtering her character "this" (handwaves) much.

Crucial part of Shizubo (Botan/Shizuru) to me

are the headcanons/fan concepts that--

1) Shizuru is equally as cutegirlcrazy as Kuwa, she's just had time & experience to temper it by actually scoring and having relationships w them and also been burned by the occassional Femme Fatale and appears/is more reserved so it takes an Experienced Lesbian to recognise what she's putting down,

2) Botan is not an Experienced Lesbian, thinks she's straight, and unless Shizuru tells her she (Shizuru) is a lesbian, she will also think Shizuru is straight (obliviously crushing, "this is normal admiration for a fellow woman, right??"), in other words Shizuru is playing poker and Botan thinks these are oddly-shaped cookies that don't taste very good, but she'll eat them to be polite.

3) in combination with

3. a) me, myself, and I wanting Shizuru to be more involved with the narrative and thinking that means she has to have an Objection to Kuwa involving himself with the Spirit Office once she knows more of what the deal w it is (Idt she's opposed to him helping his friends, I think she's opposed to this toddler-god and Co believing they have the right to involve themselves this much w humans by "hiring" child soldiers and have a gag order to top it all off, here), 3. b) me wanting Botan to face some consequences of her actions by aiding that mission (some people like to put characters in a box and shake them, I like to put them in court apparently), some of her actions including: ... ... 3. b. i) Botan not actively opposing Kuwa's involvement with not one, but two assignments where he wasn't actually hired for that (Yusuke being forcibly hired by the office is bad, but until Shizuru has reason to ask, she won't know abt the details), the second of which leads Kuwa to be forcibly invited to DT, ... ... 3. b. ii) Botan having actively discouraged Kuwa and Yusuke from telling the truth abt the Spirit Office, even to their own families and friends, even when Yusuke wanted to tell Keiko and thought she deserved to know for having been a target and could become a target again by association to Yusuke, 3. c) Keiko and Shizuru (and Atsuko, in the manga) needing to force (guilt-trip & menace) Botan to spill the beans, 3. d) another way of making Shizuru more relevant and also... make DT more interesting? Not the arc, the actual tournament, the premise and the in-universe mythology around it, to have Shizuru investigate it in pursuit of stopping the tournament. ... ... 3. d. i) She fails, but she tried very well and hard in my mind, and that's what matters to me.

I think that @ first, Shizuru thought this was a cute girl working at a dubious firm (big deal, "we can't judge them when we live under capitalism" (the cutegirlcrazy talking, Shizuru is not as immunised as she thinks she is, comparing herself to her brother)), but the more she learns abt Botan's involvement w Kuwa and Yusuke and it turns out, 2 other kids (at worst forced labour for minors, at best community sentence for minors that involve murder, harm to self, and potential death) too, the less fondness she has for the woman. (Shizuru could also be as love-dumb as Kuwa could be, but I personally can only handle this many idiot characters I can't predict very well and also I want bloodhound!Shizuru.) Botan has the additional debuffs of A) not knowing lesbians exist in non-abstract ways including herself (see point 2) earlier in the post), and B) though she does feel deeply guilty about her actions and involvement, she has no idea how to dissolve the deal realistically based on everything (what little) she's been told, and so is extremely avoidant/dismissive of anyone who challenges that narrative.

In a world where instead of Shizuru having a weird arc w Sakyo (and was even aged up for it... in one post discussing Botan being a grown woman, I very naively wrote that they aged up Shizuru for the drinking scene, I genuinely forgot abt the forced het romance, sorry), and the girls being more involved than "what is going here!! yes we do exist. but only as reminders of the mundane world the boys are leaving behind. also these are men's battles, we can't/shouldn't interfere bc we can't understand", Botan and Shizuru have an arc in which Shizuru realises that Botan is not irredeemable, she's just stupid (I say this lovingly, I'm saying this lovingly--, not from Shizu's perspective but from mine own she's stupid (lovingly!!!)), and Botan realises that Shizuru wasn't on-and-off her ass to be mean or remind Botan of how helpless she feels if she just so happened to find Yusuke and Co by the Spirit Office unfair or anything (which she doesn't haha she'd have to hate her job or think she's a bad friend to her friends which she isn't right haha or hate how your work & the rhetoric you developed in relation to it is poisoning the community and solidarity you could have with your friends haha you're not a bad person if you think you're good right hahaha), she was sussing her out while trying to stop the Tournament. Anyway, idk, them entering something of a peace treaty after that.

They do not get together or if they do, it's post-canon/king tournament epilogue/bonus story arc material! To me!

[ID: A white cat being fed salad, with yellow, white, and green text: "Me:" (the white cat); "My hyper-specific salad (specified to My needs specifically". The latter "my" is intentionally mispelled. /END ID.]

[futbol16]

Rio Manuela ・ England Lionesses/Barcelona Femení

This is a platonic story with the England lionesses and the Barcelona Femení girls. The character has a given name, but the story is written in second person. I was also bored enough to make an edit so hope you like that as well.

Id love any feedback you guys could give me! English is also not my first language so excuse me if anything is incorrect. Enjoy!

Word count: 3,7k words

It’s been a month since you and your team have won the 2022 EURO’s and to say team spirit was still high would be an understatement. It was one of the many reasons why your team felt like a big family, especially with being one of the younger ones. 

You were an incredibly successful player at the ripe age of 24 and by many fans' requests, you had been working on a biography. Although you had been keeping it on the down low, it was no secret.

That is exactly why the team was buzzing today as it was the release day of the movie. You on the other hand weren’t only excited but anxious as well. You didn’t have the best upbringing and you were scared of how the world would react to this side of your story. Moreover you were nervous about the team’s reaction, only a handful of people knew and even they only knew what you let them know.

“IT’S MOVIE NIGHT TONIIIIIGHT!” - Ella screamed as she ran around the pitch as training started. A few of the girls laughed at her excited antics, they too couldn’t wait. 

You laughed even bigger as you felt her jump on your back, screeching in your ear when you nearly dropped her.

“All right girls, gather around. We’ll do skill exercises today and a bit of strength training, I need all of you to be ready for the match that’s in two days.”-Sarina called you guys over.

Warming up in pairs you stood in line with the rest as you started training.

You looked up from your feet as you spotted Hempo getting ready to cross the ball. Picking up your speed you jumped into the air hitting a perfect header to the back of the net. Despite it only being a scrimmage in training you ran to the blonde smiling at her and celebrating.

“This is why they call you Barcelona’s bird.”- she grinned, making you chuckle.

“I think it’s also the name, you know, Rio and the movie with those blue birds?”- Rachel spoke up from behind the two of you, most of the team heading for their water bottles as training came to an end.

“Oh, yeah i guess that makes a bit more sense”-You laughed as a look of embarrassment washed over Lauren’s face, nudging her in the shoulder.

“Maybe, but I’m only Barcelona’s bird when I play for them, here, with the national team, I'm England’s lioness just like you guys.”- you smiled at the two then shrieked as they both squeezed the water from their bottles at you. Running away, the other two laughed loudly as they chased you around.

Lucy grinned as she watched the three of you. Turning to the other two as they waited for you. 

“Her biography is out today, right?” - Keira asked with a hopeful expression.

“Yeah, god the kid’s so young and she’s got a movie done for her, makes me feel old.”- Lucy chuckled, though with a proud smile on her face.

“Mhmm, the younger ones are really excited to watch it tonight.”- Leah continued.

“Pretty sure the whole world is. I mean she’s one of the best players in the world, it’ll be interesting to see her journey throughout her younger years.”- Leah’s smile faded a bit at that, she was one of the few people that knew, knew the little you shared.

Sitting in the relaxation room of the national team’s facility, all 23 of you got yourselves comfortable. Carrying three bowls of popcorn you thanked Leah and Alessia as they each took one and handed them to a group of girls allowing you to sit down between Lucy and Ella.

“WHO’S READY TO GET STARTED??”- Ella once again shouted forcing you to cover your ears with a smile as the others cheered.

 “Okay I was thinking about first watching the trailer and then we can start the movie.” - the others voiced their agreements as one of the girls started the trailer. Sitting back comfortably you crossed your arms over your chest as you waited patiently, this would also be your first time seeing the finished product, seeing the story of your football career.

The opening scene flashed across the screen showing you sitting in your cubby in a locker room, your England jersey proudly hanging behind you, the number 10 and Manuela printed onto it.

"All my life I had to fight, no one believed in me, so I had to believe in myself.”

Your back was to the camera as you walked through the tunnel leading you to the stadium’s football pitch. “To all of you, I have one thing to say. I’m not like you, because I’m not you. I am Rio Manuela.”

As the trailer finished, the girls seemed even more interested in your biography than before. Glancing around you took in some of their expressions before your gaze landed on Leah who smiled at you reassuringly and nodded her head. Smiling back at her softly you turned back around as the movie started.

1998, 𝖣𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 10, 𝖱𝗂𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈

Soft cries indicated your arrival into the world, the nurse handing you to your father as he looked down at you with tear filled eyes.

“She’s so beautiful.”- he looked up at your mother, a tear running down his face.

“Have you got a name ready for her?”- one of the nurses asked with a polite smile turning towards your parents.

“Marcia Rio Manuela” - your mother answered, watching as your father placed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, your soft cries subsiding.

2002, 𝖱𝗂𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈

Age 4

“Come on Marcia”- your father extended his arms as he scooped you up, turning back towards the reporter as she asked him something in Portuguese. Quickly getting bored, you got distracted with the short curls on his head, reaching up playing with them as he smiled at you.

Giggling at him you snuggled into his neck as the reporter decided to wrap up with her questions.

You smiled as a few other happy clips were seen playing on the screen. Willing yourself to not tear up, you felt Lucy wrap an arm around your shoulders from your right, allowing you to lean into her.

2007, 𝖲𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 21, 𝖱𝗂𝗈 𝖽𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗈

Age 9

Your little feet hurried towards the ball as you played with a few of your team mates. Hearing your coach call you over, you picked the ball up trying to put it under your arm as you walked towards him.

“Listen Marcia, mom is here to pick you up, she said you needed to go somewhere. Go get your stuff, she’s waiting for you.” the smile fell from your lips as you took in what he was saying.

“But coach practice is not over yet, I wanna play.” - you all but whined, not happy with having been interrupted while you were so close to scoring a goal.

“I know amada (sweetheart), but your mom is waiting for you.” - he smiled at you sadly, confusing you but you blamed it on him also being sad about you having to leave.

Nodding your head you took off towards your mother who didn't spear you a glance as she opened the car door for herself, waiting on you as you got in too.

You didn’t dare ask questions after getting a harsh ‘quiet’ after your first two. 

The car pulled into the driveway of the familiar family house, getting out and into the house, you watched as your mom pulled out suitcases throwing different articles of clothing into them.

“I wasn’t told until after we landed in England that my father had died during one of his missions at the Navy. I remember I was in such despair as the words slipped out of my mother’s mouth. But I know I was also upset that she took me away from home, from all that I knew.”

You spoke into the camera, sitting on a chair with a gray background behind you. Your face showed one of sorrow as you ran your fingers through your hair.

“I decided to go by my middle name after that, Rio, in honor of my dad. He and I both were born in Rio de Janeiro and he always told me his happiest memories were from growing up there, he loved Brazil, it was his home” a small smile made its way onto your face

2010, 𝖫𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇, 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖠𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖢𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖠𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗒

Age 12

“Go Rio, drive forwards, come on!”- your academy coach shouted at you as he saw your hesitation. Nodding to yourself you sped up coming face to face with one of your opponents, making eye contact with her you sent her a devious look before megging her and running around her to collect the ball. 

Moving past her you skillfully dribbled past four other opponents, looking up you saw you were one on one with the goal keeper. Pulling your leg back you aimed and then watched as the ball soared through the air and hit the back of the net. Your teammates screamed as they piled on top of you, the whistle being blown signaling the end of the match. 

The camera zoomed in on your face as you grinned, your coach sending you a proud thumbs up.

2012, 𝖫𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇, 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖠𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖢𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗁 𝖠𝖼𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗆𝗒

Age 14

“Good job girls, practice is done for the day. Go home and rest alright?”- your coach smiled at the young girls as they ran off towards the locker room. Hanging back a bit you took your time getting to the changing room.

Entering you were met with one of the taller girls on the team, a red head. Her name was Grace and she really had it out for you. “You could’ve passed more today.”

A few of the others looked up from their own chatter, now paying attention to what was about to go down in front of them.

“You weren’t open, you can’t expect me to pass to a player that’s clearly being marked.”- you answered her with an unimpressed look, this wasn’t the first time she came for you.

“Oh shut it Manu, we both know it’s only because of your huge ego.”- she seethed her palms pressing onto your shoulders as she tried to shove you back, but you didn't budge.

Raising an eyebrow at her, a small smirk made itself present on your face.

“That’s all you can do? Come on, I thought you wanted that ball.”- you commented with a smug look. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the short blonde girl stand up about to intervene before this would go the wrong way, but you gently shook your head. She sat back down with a worried look on her face. 

Focusing back on the redhead in front of you, you barely dodged her hit as her fist grazed your cheek. A collective intake of breath was heard throughout the locker room as she tried again, this time you ducked before hitting your elbow to the back of her knee. You watched as her knee buckled and she fell on her bum. Deciding that you’ve had enough, you made your way out of the locker room.

It was half an hour after practice, all of the girls had been picked up already. You sat against the wall as you seemed to zone out staring at the ball in your hands. The sound of boots hitting the ground woke you out of your trance, looking up at your coach as he exhaled.

“Has she not come yet?”- you shook your head at his question, though you thought the answer was obvious enough. - “I’ll be back in 15 minutes, if you’re still here I’m taking you home myself.”

With that you stood up making your way back onto the pitch which by now was lit up by the big lights. Fooling around with the ball at your feet, you already knew you would have to walk home alone.

Entering the apartment you shrugged your coat off as you chucked your training bag onto your bed. Making your way into the living room you spotted her figure hunched over what you assumed to be paperwork.

“Where were you? My practice ended an hour ago.”- you asked her, rightfully upset as she barely acknowledged you.- “You were supposed to pick me up.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” - you scoffed at that.- “Eat whatever you find and then go to your room, I’ve got work to do.”

“Diane failed to act like a mother, I could count on one hand the amount of times she’s cared enough to show up for her daughter.”- your academy coach spoke as he looked back on those times. He sat in front of a maroon background as he scratched his chin.- “I’m glad Rio had the academy, she had us and we supported her through everything.”

You felt a few of the girls glance towards your way, Lucy squeezed your shoulder as she sensed your discomfort.

2014, 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝖾 6, 𝖤𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇’𝗌 𝖭𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝖾𝖺𝗆

Age 16

“We both made our debut for the national team in 2014. She was one hell of a player, I think that’s why many didn’t like her at first. Even when we were younger and in the academy, if she wasn’t looking for trouble, trouble found her. People always looked down on her. And then she’d step out onto the field and prove them wrong.”- Leah Williamson spoke as she chuckled at the childhood memories you shared.

A few videos were shown of your debut, your first goals and first assists for the national team.

The girls’ eyes widened as one of the clips showed you jumping over a defender trying to slide tackle you, the ball held firmly between your ankles before you landed at the other side of her and ran towards the goal. 

2016, 𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗆

Age 18

Hey Rio, why are you still here”- a young Leah Williamson appeared on the screen. You were still in your training gear as you smiled at her sheepishly.

“Well..you know.”- you pulled your lips into a tight smile.

“She didn’t come to the game?”

“She doesn’t come to any of them, never has, said she’s got more important things to do”-you looked at the blonde with a confused expression she dragged you towards the stands where her mother and brother stood.

“Rio sweety, come here.”- her mother wrapped you up in a hug as you reached over and ruffled Jacob’s hair who only groaned at your actions. - “Come on, you’re having dinner over at ours.”

You and Leah grinned as you swung an arm around each other, walking out the stadium.

Behind you Leah smiled fondly at the memories grabbing ahold of your hand as you reached it out to her and squeezed it.

2017, 𝖲𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖥𝗎𝗍𝖻𝗈𝗅 𝖢𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝖥𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇í

Age 19

“I met Rio this year actually. She amazed us all right in her first training session. We quickly became friends, because we both were the rookies of the team.”- Maria Leon, Mapi laughed into the camera. - “She’s got this amazing personality too. I remember this one time -it was actually when she got her nickname- I remember she scored a banger of a goal with an assist from me and I was so happy I just ran through her legs and lifted her onto my neck”- she laughed out loud, her voice fading as the clip played on the screen, both of your younger selves laughing loudly at each other as someone - you assumed Leila Ouhabi- filmed the two of you, laughing along before speaking up.- “And there goes Barca’s bird”

2020, 𝖲𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖥𝗎𝗍𝖻𝗈𝗅 𝖢𝗅𝗎𝖻 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝖥𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇í

Age 22

“What was your favorite goal of the season so far?”- the interviewer asked you in a post match interview, your hair still damp with sweat and a bit out of breath.

“That absolute rocket I just scored!”- you exclaimed happily, adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the win as you pointed your thumb behind you to the pitch. The rest of your team was seen dancing around and celebrating.

“How does it feel to score a winning goal in the Copa de la Reina?”- she asked you as you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Absolutely fucking amazing!”- you screamed into the camera as you got up close. The camera man and the interviewer laughed out loud as you got swept off your feet and onto the shoulders of your captain.

Mapi ran up behind you as you were seen waving at the camera while Alexia walked you back to your team to celebrate with you. - “That bicycle kick was one for the history books!”

“Bar-celo-na’s li-ttle bird, Rio,Rio! Our goal scoring hero,hero!”- your chants were screamed by the fans in the stadium.

Watching your bicycle kick being played on the screen a sense of pride filled your chest again as you heard not only the fans in the stadium screaming for you but your national team mates sitting around you as well, a few of them leaning over to pat you on the head or shoulders.

 It definitely was still one of your favorite goals.

2021, 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖺, 𝖲𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇

Age 23

Another interview was shown on the screen. It was one with a few of your Barcelona teammates, some of your trophies laid out on the ground.

“OH, MIS BEBÉS!”- you shouted as you hugged the two Ballon D’ors close to you. Alexia and Jenni laughed loudly at you as you grinned back at them.

“Those are definitely her favorite trophies.”- Alexia turned towards the camera.

“Are you kidding me? They’d be my favorite trophies too.”- Jenni jokes.

“Don’t worry Jenni, you’ll get your own.”

2022, 𝖴𝖤𝖥𝖠 𝖤𝗎𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖶𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇’𝗌 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝗍𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉

Age 24

England vs Germany

“Germany has always been a great threat to any country they’ve played against. Today the England Lionesses face them at home grounds, at Wembley Stadium.” - the commentators were heard as your team lined up for the anthems.

“Yeah I think this team has really shown just how good they are. They’ve got great quality and obviously a good mix of experienced and inexperienced players. Every single one of them has great potential, and you know, working together and cooperating, the sky has no limits, this team has no limits and hopefully we get to show that to the world at the final match.”- Sarina Weigman spoke at the press conference.

Dropping to your knees you allowed the tears to fall freely as the final whistle was blown. Looking up at the sky you placed a kiss on your pointer finger before pointing upwards.

Soon you felt a body colliding with you, Leah’s familiar blonde hair clouding your sight as the two of you hugged.

“We fucking did it!”- she all but sobbed, holding you tighter by the back of your head. You laughed in glee, pulling back you wiped her tears.

“We fucking did! My captain, my Leah, we did it!” - you told her proudly as her tears kept flowing down her face. Pulling her up you gave her another squeeze before she sent you towards Lucy.

Falling into the arms of who you considered to be your big sister she spun you around before inviting you to slide into the confetti pooling on the pitch.

2022, 𝖲𝖾𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 21, 𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗆

“Who do you think you can thank your success to?”- you were asked. Leaning back in your chair you briefly glanced at the dark blue background behind you.

“I’d rather answer another question first.”- you lightly laughed as the person behind the camera nodded.

“What do you think your greatest trait as a player is?”

“Hmm, I’d have to say my drive to succeed for not only myself but for the club, the country and most importantly my teammates.”- you answered with a thoughtful look on your face.

“Oh it’s definitely her passion for the sport. I have met many great players, myself being one of them, she’s one of the players with the greatest passion towards football. I really do admire that about her.”- Lucy answered halfheartedly in a separate interview, sitting in front of the blue background.

“The strength she has, not only as a player but as a person as well. Her mother sort of..abandoning her…in some sense, obviously hurt her a lot, it would hurt anyone, but not everyone would be able to fight in spite of that. To continuously show up and prove others wrong.” - Alexia answered the same question with a sad smile on her face but a proud look by the end.

“Her love for the sport and for the people around her. She has such a loud and fun energy to her, on and off the pitch. She’s hard to forget.”- Leah smiled with a chuckle.

“Well I mean if nothing else works then she’s got a real good death stare. Like you can see the opposition back down from her…but most of the time I guess her skills are good enough”- Ella laughed as Allessia sent a jab at her ribs, laughing as well before answering. - “Yeah, she’s got it all.”

“Back to the first question, why do you think you succeed and continue to succeed in football?”

“My family.”- you answered, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Your family?”- she asked with a somewhat confused face.

“Yeah, it’s thanks to them that I’m still here. I’ve learnt everything from them and they continue to make me not only a better player but a better person as well.”- you smiled big with a light blush coating your cheeks.

“By family, do you mean your parents?”

“No, I mean I know my dad’s watching me from up there and I know he’s proud of me, that’s more than enough for me. But my family is my club team and national team. All 46 of them have my back and I have every single one of theirs.”- you answered truthfully. - “And I absolutely adore every one of them.”

The girls cheered as your biography ended, some with tearful looks on their faces, others with big smiles but all of them with a proud glint in their eyes. 

Your mother might have not cared enough, that redhead at the academy might have caused you more trouble than you would’ve liked and yeah, your abilities were definitely doubted by many at the start of your career, but you knew you were right where you belonged.

 In the arms of your teammates, your best friends and sisters. And when you’d be back for preseason at Barcelona, you’d be with the other half of your family. 

Football gave you a home.

[hauntedhousecat]

Levi in Storybrook?!

My favorite couple.

hottest couple.

TBH it went on a little long but when I saw Adelaide Kane as Drizella I was all over that! That's basically what I remember from the last season.

Favorite arc? Neverland!

Favorite villain!!! ^^^

Thoughts? About anything OUAT? And Levi in Storybrook?!

What you love? Didn't love? Let's talk!!

I'm going to go on a full on scream fest below the cut my friends.

I'll be frank, I didn't get to watch the last season. Which I'm planning to rectify. (When it was coming out my Grandma was still alive and it scared her so I didn't get to watch it... and then we got rid of cable..>.>; )

HOWEVER, I really really really love Once Upon a Time! My Favorite Villain is

When this arc was coming out I lived in the apartment and I talked about Peter Pan so much my roommate hung a Peter Pan picture on my door (right next to Jack Frost....>.>.... :) ). X3

I LOVE CaptainSwan! I think the only pairing with Emma I would have liked just as much was Pinocchio, if they'd left him as an adult. TT.TT

Jefferson was my favorite character right next to Hook but Jefferson would have definitely reigned at the top if he'd been in more. (I miss Jefferson so much.)

Neverland was my favorite arc too!!! I wish it had gone on just a little longer than it had, though I know I heard several people saying that they didn't enjoy Neverland. Which I never understood. Because it's amazing. I LOVE LOVE how sweet Snow and Prince Charming are. And just so many other elements of the show. Mr. Gold is a fun character too and I could just go on an on about how much I love Regina... don't get me started. LOL NOW THEN for Levi. I DID put him in Storybrook but I honestly don't ever replace existing characters I work around them and incorporate the characters I want to introduce into the story so they can all exist in the same space, and that's always been fun for me. Now when I did it I was rping with a friend and (to make a very long story much shorter) he is canon (sort of adjacent) Levi who winds up getting sucked into the curse by accident since he was in the area and other not complicated things but it'll take me a long time to describe. I can dm you about it if you want to hear me rant and rave. I applied his Ackerman blood to the situation so he was still himself and very confused as to why he was carrying an ID around that wasn't his name and "married" to a person he didn't know. Anywho if I were to do it again I'd have to say I might make him either own a cafe or possibly an accountant. What would you have him do? I have so much fun with these! I can honestly see it. If he owns a cafe it's not just a tea shop so it's not exactly what he wanted but also kind of is? He'd probably be fairly happy with that one actually, while if he were an accountant I could see him making decent money but I can't see him enjoying it at all.

What are your thoughts? I'm so excited!!!! X3

[bahorell]

Les Amis (& co.) and what they’re like camping

Enjolras: Is kinda scared of the woods. Also he’s that guy that really has a hard time putting his phone down because “I just have to respond to this one email”. “Yeah give me one second I’m dealing with a work thing”. “omg did you hear about what’s happening in Canada? It’s horrible those poor people” “Enj the point of this is to get away from everything for a couple days” “Right I know…”. So if there’s even one bar of service they gotta go find a different place. When he isn’t on his phone he’s very active in all his friends activities. He’s not super outdoors-y so he mostly tags along when other people do things. He’ll have Baz or Courf take him on rides on their paddle boards. He’ll tag along when Chetta and Ferre go on hikes. He’ll be Feuilly’s little helper person when Feuilly’s working on building the fire. Or he’ll just hand out with people at camp or on the beach of the lake/river and just talk.

Combeferre: Loves camping because of all the bugs and critters! Found the tiniest little frogs on the shore of the lake one time and made everybody look at them. Brings plant and animal and bug ID books with him and will take little leaves or flowers and stick them in the pages of the book when he thinks he found a match. He doesn’t usually snack too much when he’s at home but when he’s in the woods he is always eating something and it’s really when he’ll let himself just go balls to the wall with the junk food. The only thing he doesn’t really like about camping is that he doesn’t get to go on jogs in the morning because he’s smart enough to not run into the woods in the middle of nowhere with no service by himself.

Courfeyrac: Has an inflatable paddle board that he bought! He likes to play lifeguard and will paddle around to all his friends who are swimming and give them rides to shore. He likes to share his paddle board with his friends but he didn’t have enough money to buy a super super fancy one that has a large weight capacity so usually if someone else is on it with him it sinks into the water enough to stress him out. Also he shares a big tent with Combeferre and Enjolras and he likes to sleep in the middle of the two of them.

Joly: Invested in a super super cute small teardrop camping trailer a couple years ago. It’s easier for him to get in and out of than a tent or god forbid a hammock (Bahorel has to lift him into it then Joly wants to get in one… this is also partially because Bahorel sets up all the hammocks and they are p much impossible to get in unless you are also 6’7”) The inside of the camper is just a bed and the back hatch opens up to cabinets and drawers and a counter and stuff that makes a nice little make shift kitchen. He’ll set up the camp stove and the cooking area right next to it. He’s not super involved in any of the cooking it just gives him less stress when the food area is organized and the table legs are on a flat surface.

Jehan: Jehan tells the ghost stories. They aren’t very good at telling ghost stories so nobody really gets scared (except for Marius and if they’re really doing a good job Enj will get a little spooked). They also wake up with the sunrise so they’re up and ready to start the day at like 5am… and they really aren’t quiet about it so they manage to wake up 2/3 of everybody else at camp. Has more dietary needs than other people so when every one gets together to build a grocery list and meal plan for the trip they’ll make their own list. They really don’t mind because they HATE sharing snacks so having their own little baby cooler all to themselves is the best. Bousset: Somehow manages to have the most amazing balance and can get on and off Bahorel or Courf’s paddle boards like it’s nothing but when he gets in the canoe with anybody they somehow always tip it over within like 20 seconds. He is the opposite of Jehan he’ll sleep until like 2 in the afternoon if one of them doesn’t come to wake him up. He’s also usually in charge of getting all the booze together for the trip bc he’s very aware of what everyone likes to drink. He takes turns with Chetta sleeping in the trailer with Joly since not all three of them can fit. When he’s not sleeping in the tent he’s sharing a tent with Grantaire.

Feuilly: Fire guy. Loves the fire. Is always excited for the sun to go down so he can start the campfire. Will not take his eyes off the fire. I mean seriously. They once played never have I ever and when it got to be his turn they timed him to see how long it would take for him to realize it was his turn bc he was too busy staring at the fire to pay attention (it was a solid 4 minutes). Sleeps in a tiny little one person tent that would make anybody else claustrophobic but he LOVES it. He does set up a hammock right next to Bahorel’s. He doesn’t sleep in it but the two of them will take naps together in their hammocks. He also has to dowse his body in SPF 10000000000+ because he’s the whitest person ever, and somehow he still manages to get a sunburn on some part of his body.

Bahorel: He’s the guy thats super picky about the camp spot. “eh i mean this one is cool but it’s a little too close to the other campsite and I don’t wanna be that close to other people thats the point of this trip is to get away from everybody.” “This one WOULD be perfect but it doesn’t have good access to the lake so it’s gonna be hard for those of us that have boats to get down there” “Bahorel the boat ramp is like 1/8 of a kilometer away we can just walk down to that…” “i mean we COULD… but it just kinda sucks” Also Bahorel has this super nice hammock system with like a bug net and a rain tarp, he will not sleep on the ground because he is scared of bugs and also the baby boy likes getting rocked to sleep. He always follows Feuilly around when he’s looking for a place to put his tent and he’ll set up his hammock right next to him. And he WAILS to Feuilly when they get back home because his SKINCARE ROUTINE GOT MESSED UP FEUILLY OHHH MY GODDDD

Grantaire: Not super big on camping but if he’s with his friends he’s having fun. There’s something about being in the woods that makes him quiet… but not in a sad way. He feels really peaceful when he isn’t dealing with a bunch of people in a big city (Even tho he loves the city). He always brings stuff so that he can draw or paint the mountains or his friends on the lake but he usually doesn’t get enough time to really make anything more than a sketch. He’s not scared of water but he avoids going in the lake if it’s not a part of it that’s deeper than his tummy. He won’t get in the boats unless there’s a lot of coaxing (usually by Enj)

Marius: LOVES being in the woods. I mean really loves it. Surprisingly it’s usually Marius that sends out the text to the group chat that’s like “hey is everybody free in a couple weekends? I wanna go camping!” He just really doesn’t like going by himself or going with just one or two people. He wakes up super early as well and usually will sit with Jehan and share coffee waiting for everybody else to wake up. Sometimes the two of them will go on a little walk together. He winds down pretty early in the evening though since he wakes up so early and is usually ready for bed by like 8:45pm. He’s also that guy that wants to eat all the berries on the bushes they walk past and has almost given Combeferre a heart attack like 7 times.  

Eponine: She’s… alright to camp with. She gets kinda grumpy in the mornings because of how cold it is but she warms up (both temperature wise, but also her mood) once she’s eaten and it’s gotten warmer out. She really just likes to lay in one of the communal hammocks and read book after book. She’ll also tag along with Gavroche on a lot of his little adventures. When she’s not with Gavroche or letting Combeferre show her all the little bugs and cool plants he found, she just sunbathes. For HOURS straight. Going camping for her is just a really long fun weekend to get her tan on.

Cosette: She’s so fun to camp with!! She’s like… the best person to camp with. She always does the planning and researches everything there is to do at and near the campsite. She knows all the hiking trails nearby and what areas have service and which ones don’t. She knows which campsites have lake/river access. She also makes the best camp coffee. It’s really the only time she drinks coffee unless it’s like… finals week or she’s got an early flight or something. She also ALWAYS has to tell her dad where they’re going. She shares her location and route with him on the drive there and texts him to let him know she’s about to lose service and texts him the second she has a bar of service. He’s just very protective and she wants to make sure that he knows she’s safe. Plus if anything DOES happen he knows where she’s going and can come save the day.

Musichetta: She sleeps like the entire time she’s camping. She’ll wake up in the morning and move from her tent or the camper and go lay in one of the communal hammocks near the fire ring and doze off with her hot chocolate… which she has spilled a couple times. Once it warms up a little she’s walk down to the lake or river and lay down, get her tan on, and take a nap. One of her favorite things is to go on hikes with Combeferre. He’s one of the only people in the group that can keep up with her. If they go with other people usually by the time they reach the end of the trail the rest of the group is about 2 miles behind them. One of the best parts of camping for her is going home and showering after not showering for like 3 or 4 days.

Gavroche: Spends the entirety of the first day trying to find the perfect tree to put the perfect swing on. He also likes to try to find any big rocks near the campsite and go bouldering and run around on top of them. He still really has that childhood curiosity about everything and no fear. He’ll run off trail trying to find deer or elk. If he doesn’t get back home with a couple scratches or bruises he doesn’t consider it a good camping trip. He also will swim out to Bahorel’s paddle board and Bahorel will grab him out of the water and throw him back in. Gavroche thinks it’s the most fun thing in the world even though he’s growing really fast and it’s taking a little bit more muscle every year for Bahorel to throw him as far as Gav wants him to.

[marlborodean]

here’s my analysis of a 14-yr-old supernatural episode

so remember that episode where sam fucked a werewolf? because he related to her unwilling monstrosity? well that episode is actually just about dean starting to come to grips with his childhood and his sexuality.

if you ship w/ncest do not interact. this post is not anti-sam either btw. 

content warning: discussions of childhood trauma, internalized homophobia, guns, killing. 

does include some images with Image Descriptions following them.

[ID: An over-the-shoulder close-up shot from the episode, focused on Madison, the werewolf, as she cries. Dean is standing behind her. They are both looking at Sam, whose shoulder is on the edge of the frame. End ID.]

Brief episode recap just in case u don’t remember. This ep is 2x17 “Heart.” Sam and Dean are hunting a werewolf. They discover that the woman they interviewed, Madison, is a werewolf (not THEE werewolf, but one of them). Sam develops a lil crush on her <3 I wrote the majority of this after watching it for the first time in almost SIX years, so i was just vibing the whole time UNTIL the last shot changed it all for me. So let me explain!

Three important points that i will refer back to:

1. The episode begins with Dean being excited to hunt a werewolf because "what about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don't you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven't seen one since we were kids."

2. Then the episode centers on Sam and his relationship with the werewolf woman and his own monstrosity: "[Dean: Sam, she's a monster and you're feeling sorry for her?] Maybe I understand her."

3. BUT THEN the last shot of the episode is of Dean crying as music plays (see below for the specific lyrics) and then Dean jumps at the sound of the gunshot. That's it! That's the end of the episode!

[ID: For all three screencaps, Dean is looking torturously sad. Each one is zoomed a little bit closer to his face than the last. In the last image, Dean sheds a single man tear. The captioned lyrics for the first one say "Relax, child, you were there." The second says "but only didn't realize" and the third says "and you were scared." End ID]

Even though the story is supposed to be about Sam and his monstrosity, and partly about his relationship w/romance since this is the first person he’s slept with since Jess died (at least with what is shown on screen)...the Dean Sandwich tells us otherwise. We're supposed to be taking away something about DEAN here. Like, that's the whole purpose behind the last shot focusing solely on Dean instead of Sam who is AT THAT MOMENT, KILLING THE GIRL HE HAS FEELINGS FOR. It's literally a heartbreaking, devastating, super traumatic thing for Sam to be going through, but instead we're watching Dean as a single tear slides down his face lmao. It's because this episode is about DEAN, and furthering his story.

Let’s not queer this just yet. The death of the werewolf is about/representing his loss of innocence. It's a violent disconnect from his childhood. Point # 1 shows that he is fascinated by werewolves because since he was a kid he thought they were badass, not to mention all the werewolf films he references throughout. Then, through the music lyrics over that last scene, they mirror that theme of childhood. They’ve done this before, having the diegetic music directly reference what the characters are going through. No different here: Dean is the child they’re referring to.

I have to reiterate that that's the last thing we hear before the gunshot cuts the music short and then the cut to black. "You were scared" is the last thing we hear before the gunshot, as Dean cries. ALSO I have to reiterate that Dean was looking forward to killing a werewolf and shooting it himself. So it's super fascinating that, not only is Sam the one that kills the werewolf, WE DON’T EVEN SEE IT HAPPEN.

[ID: A medium-close shot of Dean as he looks at Sam, who takes up the right half of the frame. The caption says, “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it.” End ID.]

Am i gonna have to say this now? The werewolf is a metaphor, okay? It's a metaphor for his innocence, which is long-dead, forever doomed. I mean, a lot of kids love werewolves because they ARE badass! It's a classic monster that anyone could easily obsess over, and with Dean's childhood it must've seemed even cooler, knowing they're real and having the power to kill this "mythical" beast. So the way he's looking forward to killing one is the way a child imagines themselves as a hero.

But what happens instead is a tragic mercy killing. It's flipping his fantasy completely on its head, and it makes Dean realize that.....his fantasies are just fantasies. They aren't real, never would be. There's nothing heroic about killing this werewolf. It's tragic as hell. When he offers to kill her himself, it's just to relieve Sam's burden, but he's reluctant still. Because, as he keeps saying, he doesn't want to be a hunter! He doesn't want this life! He's tired of killing! And that's also what he's mourning as he cries and startles at the gunshot. His fantasies will never be real and his childhood could never have been normal and he never got a chance to be a kid because being a hunter was thrust on him at such a young age. And now it feels inescapable.

[ID: A gif of the slow zoom on Dean’s face as the single tears slips down his cheek. He jumps at the gunshot, then blinks and his lip wobbles. End ID.]

So now we can queer it :-) Of course all monster stories can be easily queered, but werewolves are popularly queered. The first example that comes to mind is An American Werewolf in London (1981) isn’t an overtly queer film (though it is Jewish!) but it’s definitely read that way by a lot of people!! Anyway the film was directed by John Landis which JUST SO HAPPENS to be the pseudonym Dean goes by in this episode. hmm. (Also, interestingly, the BTVS ep where the first gay character comes out references this film too)

[ID: Sam and Dean are standing close to each other. Sam is in the foreground, not in focus. Dean, behind him, says, “Landis. And Detective Dante.” End ID.]

There’s this essay about the queer werewolf that you can read here (and they also talk about fandom in it! very fascinating), where they say in the intro: “the werewolf seems an obvious choice as a queer monster with its identity-disrupting hybridity, as well as its atavistic, and, thus, disallowable sexuality.” A lot like Kristeva’s theory of the abject body! which is popular in queer theory. 

This episode is then queering Sam—his attraction to the werewolf makes him abject—but it also queers Dean thru the way his attitude towards the werewolf transforms (get it?) throughout the ep. His desire and eagerness to kill the werewolves is obviously ingrained in him from John’s parenting. Consider what he said in 2x03 “Bloodlust”: “And the way he raised us, to hate those things—and man, I hate them, I do.” In conjunction with the monsters in the show being seen as queer allegories (the gorgon, as an example of an explicit comparison), Dean’s excitement to kill the werewolf can be read as internalized homophobia and repressing any of his own feelings. 

Remember, though, right before that line in “Bloodlust,” he also said, “What if we killed things that didn’t deserve killing?” He’s really beginning to question whether all monsters are bad, and what it means to kill them. Is he also questioning what he believes of queer people? What John believed of queer people? The loss of innocence and queering both slot together through that final shot, imo: he’s crying because he realizes his fantasies aren’t real, but he’s also mourning the fact that he never could have had the chance to grow up without John’s control, and now it’s forever tainted his worldview. What else could he have been without that? (The answer is evident in 4x17 “It’s a Terrible Life.”)

Dean was taught to hate queer people but he doesn't want to. He wants to get out of the life but it feels inescapable. He wants to kill a werewolf and then when he has the chance, he doesn't want to. He actually cries as it's killed. It scares him, having to confront that what he thought he knew was wrong, but he knows all the same that he’ll never have the chance to have grown up without that. 

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 04

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Action-y in that there is offscreen violence and peril, injuries, talk of surgery and symptoms/effects of medical grade narcotics (morphine), more on that big ol’ age difference. Side notes: Agent Anderson of the L.A. field office has no relation to Agent Anderson of Quantico, VA, because Agent Anderson of the BAU is a national treasure. (I’m considering going back and renaming the OC, but as of right now this is the last we hear of him for a while). And I know no one really pays attention to them, but the time stamps on the texts match the time zone of the scene setting. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 8893

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link

--

Chapter 04

--

Late September 2010

--

Spencer Reid wakes up to the early grey morning two weeks later, a perpetual haze shrouding his room long before his alarm was supposed to rouse him. He reaches blindly, blearing eyed and checks his phone for what feels like the hundredth time, only to find no messages waiting for him. A terrible, horrid feeling has been clawing at his chest and throat the longer it gets -- the more time that passes -- and he still hasn’t heard from Hotch. 

They’ve been messaging each other near constantly for months now, and it only seemed to get more intense after that fateful talk at the beginning of September. Where Hotch finally revealed he’d thought Spencer was much older than him, and not the other way around. Spencer had set him straight, as much as he could, and even that had been nerve-wracking to say the least. The two men were crossing into a territory neither really wanted to put a label on, and Spencer was both afraid of it and excited by it. Of what it could mean, and how long it could last, but he’d thought he’d had time to figure out a solution to his inadvertent secrecy.

Then, Hotch began working a case in Delaware two days ago. 

It seemed like a textbook unsub; maybe a little aggressive with anti-establishment overtones, but nothing they couldn’t handle. Nothing the BAU hasn’t seen before. They’d been closing in on the suspect, no location yet but some prospects that needed checking out, and the last Spencer had heard from Hotch…

It had been lunchtime for him, and midafternoon for the older man. The exchange hadn’t been anything of consequence, just their usual, easy correspondence. Hotch was going to check out that lead they’d spoken of, Spencer had a budget meeting as soon as he was done eating in the middle of his office hours, and they had a plan to play chess online that night. Hotch is still terrible at it, but he keeps coming back no matter how thoroughly Spencer wipes the floor with him. Now, sometimes they just forget about the game entirely after the first few minutes. It makes him smile each and every time, soft and fond and lighting a warmth inside him Spencer has… never felt before. 

Then Hotch hadn’t messaged him the rest of the night.

Hadn’t shown up online to play chess.

Hadn’t texted him goodnight, or even sent him an update on the case. 

Nothing in their conversations warranted such ostracization, and although Spencer has been ‘ghosted’ before (as his doctoral students would say) he knows Hotch would never do that. Not after everything, the history they’ve built the past months -- leaving nothing but the dread to sink in and spread like a stain.

All night, he imagines the worst.

By morning, he all but expects it.

--

[]9/22, 18:59[] Are you alright? Did something happen with the case?

[]9/22, 19:10[] If you were that scared of losing at chess, I can also beat you at online poker instead.

[]9/22, 19:30[] I’d suggest scrabble but that’s honestly not fair to you.

[]9/22, 21:55[] Hotch? 

[]9/22, 22:30[] I’m assuming that lead panned out, and you caught your unsub and are neck deep in interrogation.

[]9/22, 22:36[] I don’t want to imagine anything else, so that’s what I will picture.

[]9/23, 00:06[] Hotch please answer me. 

[]9/23, 05:32[] Please be okay.

--

Spencer arrives at Caltech looking a little more of a mess than usual. More than most are used to seeing him, at least, and it causes a few second glances from students he passes and other faculty -- but he really can’t find it in himself to care, this morning. His unruly curls, getting longer again, falling into his face and over his ears, are frizzy in their unkemptness. Bags under his eyes, normal, but he’s settled for glasses instead of his contacts. He has a spare pair in his desk, he’ll have to change them before class. His glasses somehow always make him look even younger. A mystery that boggles the mind, because once he had grown into his face a few years ago (around 26 or 27, close enough he had worried he would forever be cursed with a ‘baby face’) Spencer had thought he would finally be getting away from that. 

And yet, square jaw and ‘grandpa’ glasses and thin frame towering just over six feet did nothing in the slightest to aid him. Certainly not stopping a man outside the campus coffee shop from shouting “Watch where you’re going, kid!” as he near barrels over him on the sidewalk. Not his sweater vest or half suits, attire straight out of a 1940’s noir film (he’d even sported a vintage inspired undercut with his waves combed over for a while there, too. Way too much upkeep, as nice as it looked). Nothing makes him any more grown up in the eyes of the unsuspecting world, than he’d been without his five doctorates and board of director’s seat. No matter what he tried, it seems.

This has been a subliminal thing for years, something Spencer always said didn’t bother him in the slightest. And for a long time he didn’t care one way or the other, he just kept getting more degrees. All his life Spencer has been ‘too young’, always been ‘kid’ or ‘sport’ or ‘tiger’, even when running quantum physics equations in his head. And it didn’t matter. Not with his credentials and accomplishments and everything he now has to his name.

Until Hotch.

Now, Spencer cares.

Notices, even through his haze of worry and sleeplessness, how on the street it’s “Watch it, kid!” and fifteen yards later it’s “Good morning, Dr. Reid” as he steps into the Physics building where everyone knows him on sight. Knows him, and what he’s capable of. 

What if when Hotch met him all he saw was… another kid? 

If they ever met.

“Whoa, rough night Dr. Reid?” 

“Yes, you could say that,” he mumbles out as he signs in and scans his ID card, taking the stack of mail that the desk attendant hands him. But stops before he gets too far from the desk, backtracking. “Hey, have you watched the news this morning? Did anything show up about New England or Delaware?”

“Not that I saw, Dr. Reid,” she says in confusion, looking up from where she had been texting on her phone. “Just a whole lot of coverage on the shitshow at capital hill, as usual. Oh, and more depressing reports about the earthquake clean-up in New Zealand.” 

Of course, why would there be a news story about a killer in Delaware here in California. He’d have to look up everything online himself. 

“Thanks anyway, Carla.”

“No problem, Dr. Reid.”

-

Spencer spends way too long online that morning, searching for anything about the case Hotch and his team are working. He usually prefers paper copies of news media, at first barely knowing where to begin, but he falls into a wormhole of news outlets and local Delaware station websites, reading the thousands of webpages faster than he can scroll and click through them. But he can’t find anything pointing to a disturbance related to the case. There's nothing about a raid, or a shooting, or even an arrest -- which could all just be a part of the ongoing media blackout -- but it also does nothing to stop him from panicking. Spencer gives up after an hour, and diverts to other resources. Ones with a direct line to Hotch. 

With a drafted email pulled up to Ms. Penelope Garcia, the BAU's personal tech analyst, he ponders how to... even word this without it sounding too personal. Too much like he and Hotch have more than just a working relationship.

Because they do. They have... something.

Something that gives him fluttering sensations in his stomach, makes him check his phone constantly, and react to even the slightest chime similar to his text tone. Makes him smile when he sees Hotch's name on his notifications, in his email inbox, makes him message the man in the middle of the day at the most random thoughts. Just because he wants to make him laugh.

[]8/21, 15:36[] You're going to get me in trouble.

[]8/21, 15:38[] You didn’t laugh in front of your team, did you? The scandal.

[]8/21, 15:42[] I'm at a crime scene. There's a dead body in front of me.

[]8/21, 15:43[] Then why are you checking your phone?

[]8/21, 15:45[] You know why.

But that’s not something that is shared with the rest of the team, he’s sure. So he should be careful how he words his email, lest Ms. Garcia realize that Spencer isn’t asking purely as a colleague. 

Surely they know he has friends, though?

Chewing his lip, Spencer types out a brief email asking if Agent Hotchner is feeling well since he missed an appointment the night before and hasn’t been returning his calls. It’s a phrase he’s used often, so it comes naturally to Spencer as he types it out, and he realizes… he hasn’t called. He’s sent a dozen text messages, but not a phone call. Never a phone call. That was against the rules, the unspoken ones that always kept this friendship easy and free-flowing and evolving into something more.

But this feels like the closest to an emergency they’ve ever encountered before.  

He looks to his phone beside him on his desk, and tries to fight back the dueling forms of panic clawing at his chest. Listed in bullet points behind his eyes. Panic that Hotch might not answer, panic what that means for the man he’s been… becoming more and more inclined to than any other person he’s met in so long. Panic if he does answer, breaking that barrier of written words to spoken, and the opportunity to hear Hotch’s voice. But he would also hear Spencer’s, and then there would be no hiding just how… how young he really is. He still didn’t have a plan for that, wracking his overworked brain day and night for a way to incorporate the information into a conversation that wouldn’t stop everything in its tracks. 

But his phone is in his hand before he can stop himself, Hotch’s contact pulled up and his thumb hovering over the phone number with baited breath. 

Was he really going to do this?

He presses the touch screen and can hear the line connecting, the dial tone ring even before he gets the phone up to his ear and waits. It rings, and rings, and rings a fourth time -- before clicking over to voicemail. And Spencer’s hyper-fast thought processes fail him as he realizes far too late that he’s going to hear Hotch’s voice for the first time, anyway. Frozen in a panic, unsure if he wants to or if that had been something he wanted them to do together that the seconds slip by like water through his fingers and suddenly it’s too late.

“You’ve reached the voicemail box of -- (703)-567-8790 -- this caller is not available. Please leave a message after the tone--”

It’s an automated, female voice that rattles off the numbers and generic call back message, and Spencer hangs up before it can begin recording him. Exhaling a shaky breath, relief a flash flood on his nerves that nothing had been ruined between him and Hotch thanks to an ill-timed phone call. 

He keeps the momentum going without much thought, and adjusts his email to Ms. Garcia before sending it. 

It feels so understated, and yet over dramatic the more he thinks about it. The more he reads it.

.

Please let me know of his well-being.

.

God, no wonder Hotch thought he was in his 60’s. 

But Spencer has to keep the façade up, for now, not give away anything he doesn’t want to just because the emotional part of his brain is running rampant over the rational one. There are… many explanations as to why Hotch isn’t answering him. His gut feeling aside, he doesn’t need to be panicking like this. The world is still turning, he still has work to do, so Spencer tries to gather himself into some semblance of order and preps to talk to his doctoral students within the hour.

--

His morning routine progresses as usual, as if nothing at all is wrong with the world. Dr. Reid has his mandatory round up with his doctoral candidates going over thesis and dissertation parameters, class lecture schedules, updates, the works. Like morning announcements, but he requires them all to be there and to listen, and they all show up. Everyone knows of Spencer’s eidetic memory. He will certainly not forget a single date or schedule change, and he expects his students to not forget as well. 

But this morning Spencer is fully distracted, his mind elsewhere, somewhere in the state of Delaware with an agent who may or may not be in danger. Because Spencer cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong. It almost seems more like a fact than a feeling. The juxtaposition of his daily routine and this unfounded worry throws him entirely off kilter, and all of his students seem to know right away. 

Then, his distraction reaches its peak when his email pings, right in the middle of his department announcements. A response from Ms. Garcia of Quantico, VA flashing across his laptop screen. Spencer’s eyes skim the preview sentence in the pop-up box, and his voice trails off as his mind… whirls. 

.

Dr. Reid, I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when Hotch will be available again. There was an incident, and he’s still in surg-

.

Surgery.

Surgery.

That vice-like grip of worry that has taken hold of him since last night tightens further, to the point Spencer can’t breathe. Hotch is in surgery, Hotch is hurt, and if he hasn’t been answering his phone since last night -- or even late yesterday afternoon -- it was not a minor thing.

Hotch is hurt. 

She doesn’t know when he will be--

If he will be --

“Dr. Reid? Are you okay?”

“I--” he’s still looking at the email pop-up box, and is clicking on it before he can stop himself. Immediately disconnecting his laptop from the projector as his email loads there. It takes him a fraction of a second to read the email. “I’m sorry, an emergency just came up. Kimmy, finish reading off the schedule for me?” He doesn’t even wait until she answers him, just picks up his laptop and retreats to his office as fast as his long legs will carry him.

.

--surgery and we’re still waiting on word. I know you 2 talk on the reg so I’ll keep you posted. 

Fret not, genius professor, our fearless leader has been through much worse than this.

.

She’s using informal speech patterns, which she has never done before. It bleeds her nervousness, and worries Spencer even more. Teetering on the edge of panic. Ms. Garcia also revealed she knows he and Hotch talk, but surprisingly that doesn’t have the effect he thought it would on his already rattled nerves. Instead, any and all reservations fall away as he types out a response much in the same way he and Hotch had started their friendship all those months ago.

.

Please, is there anything you are allowed to tell me about the case or his condition? We --

.

Spencer pauses, bites his lip as he considers crossing this boundary into the uncomfortable unknown, and then thinks about Hotch on a hospital operating table three thousand miles away.

“Screw it,” he mutters and continues to type.

.

--We’ve become good friends and I’m very worried.

.

The reply is almost immediate.

.

That makes 2 of us, boy wonder, but I’m already hacked into the hospital records database and Prentiss is in the waiting room for any immediate actions.

I’m sending you the case files and the incident report from last night. Maybe you can see some shiz we can’t b/c the bossman is tough but he’s been in surgery a long time. 

.

Of course, whatever he can do to help. Spencer’s heavy heart-beat triples in his chest as pulls up the files and immediately prints them out so he can read through them faster. Utilizing anything and everything he can do to aid the BAU team, and whatever Hotch has gotten himself into. But then, his mind sticks on something from the email. Boy Wonder. It stalls his hands mid-movement.

Ms. Garcia knows how young he is.

She must have done a background check on him, that would make sense since he’s been consulting so much lately. But why would Garcia know his age, and not Hotch? Wouldn’t she send the files to him directly? Had Hotch really known, all along?

Or did she do it on her own, and not tell him? Assuming her boss already knew everything about him. It’s too many questions and possibilities and they are interfering with what’s most important right now. Best to get it out of the way, no time to be indirect about it.

.

Ms. Garcia, did you update my dossier with the bureau after you ran my background check?

.

If you’re referring to why Hotch seems to think you’re rocking the senior discount at restaurants and not still getting carded for beer, then no I didn’t update it. I’m very anti-gov files having every detail of our lives in them, that’s what   I’m for, and I figured there was a reason he didn’t know. Your secret is safe with me, sugar bean.

.

Spencer hadn’t meant for it to be a secret at all, it just happened that way. 

The real reason is Agent Anderson of the LA field office is a dick, with a bully streak he never outgrew after high school, and didn’t bother filling out a full file on him the first time Spencer consulted for the FBI. Then, he couldn’t be bothered to update it when his consultations became more than a one time thing.

But that was all in the past now, and Spencer can’t even be upset about it. Because now he has Hotch.

.

Thank you, Ms. Garcia. I’ll let you know my findings soon.

.

He skims the file quickly, pulling information out at lightning speed. It appears a very straight-forward case. As straight-forward as a murderous sociopath can be, anyway. Very anti-establishment, like he and Hotch had discussed the previous day, aiming for specified targets that devolved to anyone in a uniform. Anyone who appears too official, or labels as official. 

It’s easy to see, now, why the unsub attacked Hotch instead of running from him. He practically served himself up on a silver platter. But there’s something about the kills that’s bothering Spencer. The knife wounds, bludgeoning, even the gunshots during the first murders when the unsub still hesitated -- it’s all overkill. Rage. Every single target has died from massive internal bleeding, M.E. reports all label the knife wounds and beatings as the cause. But the amount of blood left over, measured during autopsy, doesn’t add up. They bled too much. No wounds indicating intentional bleeding occurred, and the tox screens are all clean. 

Except, every victim’s hospital records show elevated potassium rates. Spencer’s hands, skimming down each and every page quick as they can, stop on a dime as his gaze zero in on the information. 

“Oh, God,” Spencer whispers, quiet and horrified. “--Hotch.”

There’s no time for email.

He picks up his phone, goes to an older email that has full contact details in the footer, and dials Ms. Garcia’s direct line in Quantico.

“Speak, and behold greatness.”

“Ms. Garcia, it’s Dr. Reid,” Spencer says, and his tone and quickened speech patterns gives way to his panic.

“Dr-- Dr.  Reid?” 

“Yes, quick there’s no time. Do you have Hotch’s hospital records in front of you still?” 

“Yes,” Garcia says, her voice a musical thing even in it’s breathless reaction to his heightened state of haste. “Updated every two minutes.”

“Is his potassium elevated?”

Some quick typing of keys that move faster than even he could ever hope to type. “...Yes.”

God. “Okay, okay I need you to call the hospital right now,” Spencer says in a spiel that all sounds like one word. “Whatever you have to do, he needs Sodium Polystyrene Sulfonate as soon as possible, to counteract the chemical imbalance or he’s going to go into kidney failure and bleed out.” 

There’s more typing going on and Ms. Garcia’s breathing has gone a little labored.

“Alright, alright I’m getting patched through. What else can you tell me?”

“I think he’s been dosed with something called an XG Compound, either Eastman or Zhao I have to look up the specific components and chemist. But they are a series of banned, experimental military-grade drugs that suffer effects of thinning the blood, that’s why they can’t stop the bleeding around his stab wounds and old scar tissue.” Hotch’s old wounds from Foyet would only exacerbate the condition, once it reached the kidney failure stage, but up until then the intrusions of hardened tissue is the only reason his abdominal cavity hasn’t been flooded with blood and drowned out his other organs. 

“Okay, okay I’m through, I’m keeping you on the line. Stand by-- ” then she clicks over and he’s left with a pulsating silence. Nothing remaining but continuing his work, and hoping he’d called in time. Hoping that Hotch will be alright.

--

Spencer is digging through his floor to ceiling bookshelves for the biology book on airborne pathogens given to him by a visiting Professor two years ago and he is hating himself for never cracking it in that moment. It’s nearly the last book he gets a hand on, because of course it is, and he makes it a third of the way through the book before Garcia is back on the line. The phone on the floor beside him and just barely within reach. 

“You literal genius, I could kiss you,” Garcia tells him in what can only be overstated relief, and Spencer snatches up his phone with a very undignified scramble. “They’ve had to do two transfusions on him and are prepping a third, but you were right he’s been dosed with that XG compound.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Spencer asks, still cross-legged on his office floor surrounded by books and holding his phone to his ear like a lifeline.

“Yes, yes my dear he’s going to be alright. They think. He’s not out of the woods yet and the surgery is still going on, but he -- he would have died within the next hour if you hadn’t found out what was wrong.”

Spencer’s heart is in his throat, her words doing the exact opposite of reassuring him. Hotch had been that close to dying, to being forever out of reach, because Spencer had been too scared to pick up the phone. 

“I should have called sooner,” he says, so quiet even someone in the room wouldn’t have heard him correctly. “I knew something was wrong.”

“Oh no, sugar don’t think like that. You just saved his life,” she pauses, like she wants to say something else, but diverts to an adjacent topic. “How did you know?”

“Autopsy reports. There wasn’t enough blood left in the bodies, they bled out too quickly. Then I saw the elevated Potassium,” he murmurs it all, rattled off without really thinking about it.

“And you just… knew all of that, without looking anything up?”

“That’s basically what I do. The only reason anyone calls me,” Spencer laughs but it holds no humor. “I know too much, make connections, and drink too much coffee.” 

“You drink and know things, oh God I hope you get that reference because you’re getting a coffee mug.”

Spencer laughs a little, despite the situation, and feels… lighter, somehow, even with the worry still plaguing him. Caught up in his chest like a bad cold. 

“I’m reading this textbook on airborne pathogens, I have a hunch, and I’ll send you anything I find that can help with the case,” Spencer continues, his voice not so heavy for a moment. “Just… tell me when he’s out of surgery? Keep me posted?”

“Of course, honey, you’ll be my first message,” Ms. Garcia assures him, but then she pauses again -- and he almost hangs up because it feels too anticipatory. “You should tell him, B.T.Dubs.”

Spencer hesitates more than is probably necessary.

“... I don’t know what good that will do,” he admits, quiet and unsure. “I’m not -- I’m not ready for this to be over.”

“You’re not that young, honey. Does he know you like him?”

“Mmhmm,” Spencer makes a nervous, affirmative sound. “And… he likes me, or who he thinks I am.”

“Don’t write him off just yet, Doc, let him speak for himself when he wakes up,”  Ms. Garcia all but scolds him, in as gentle a way as possible and Spencer appreciates that, at least. 

“--I’ll think about it.” 

--

Not long after Spencer finds what he’s looking for: military grade poisons that were banned for causing adverse effects, listed and categorized by chemist and agency. It is the Eastman compound, originated during the first invasion of Afghanistan. Their unsub has prolonged exposure, Spencer is sure, and that will narrow down the suspect pool immensely.

After he sends the information to Ms. Garcia, Spencer looks to his phone once more, where there is a block of text all from him himself in his correspondence with Hotch. Begging him to be alright, to answer him, and now that he knows that the man has a fighting chance -- or as much of one as he will be able to have, with where advanced medicine resides in the current conjecture of time -- there really isn’t much he can do now. But hope. And wait. And pray.

Except Spencer doesn’t believe in prayer, or God, or anything that might hear him. The only thing he really believes in is science, and facts, and none of that is very helpful to him right now. Except maybe the coincidental balance of the universe, in a theoretical physics sense, and unexplained phenomenon that have an equal and spatial balance to it. Anything with the descriptor ‘unexplained’ always draws him in like a moth to flame, and he knows he can typically find a semblance of comfort in the way his brain constantly connects dots and far off specks of information that not everyone can see at first glance. Constellations in the sky. But only when he has someone to tell it to, that even pretends to listen for a moment, and for a long while now… Hotch has been that someone. Hotch always listens to him.

Before he knows it, he’s typing into the text box once more --

[]9/23, 11:10[] You’re in surgery still, but Ms. Garcia has confirmed the treatments are working and they are able to actually repair the damage instead of treading water like they have been the past ten hours. I’ve had her personally in contact with the doctors and surgical staff, and all they’ve been able to tell us is to let them work and just pray for you.

[]9/23, 11:13[] Which is such an odd thing; men of science telling people to pray like the outcome of a surgery isn’t in their hands, but some theoretical astronomical entity. I know it’s probably just a ‘bedside-manner’ tactic, but it doesn’t help me in the slightest so it just irks me instead.

[]9/23, 11:15[] I don’t believe in prayer -- a shock, I’m sure -- but I do believe in the phenomenon of universal affirmation. It’s an interesting trend in history and spans cultures where if someone has something awaiting them, to live for, even if they are unaware of it… they will fight harder to cling to life. 

[]9/23, 11:18[] But I also know you will fight tooth and nail for Jack, and for your team that you treat like family, and maybe even me. I’d like to hope I’m included in that, and no amount of books or IQ points can make me think of something to contribute to help you keep fighting.

[]9/23, 11:19[] Just please keep fighting. Come back. And if I come up with something to entice you… I’ll let you know.

It eases a lot of the tension in his chest, talking to Hotch like this -- even if he’s just talking at him, in a place where he might never know what Spencer has had to say. But he can hope. Hope that Hotch will wake up and have thirty missed messages and see they are all from Spencer and it will make him smile. 

Spencer would give anything to see him smile, and he allows himself to hope that one day... he might get to. 

He might as well, while he’s sitting there hopelessly hoping for things beyond his control. 

Come back to me.

Spencer almost types it out, can see it in the text window though he hasn’t pressed a single letter, and closes his phone before he can. Pressing it to his mouth and closing his eyes and just… 

Hoping.

--

The hours roll over into the afternoon, and there’s still no word. 

Spencer has spent the majority of the day messaging Ms. Garcia, who has had no information beyond trivial updates here and there and Spencer has read more about surgical procedures and practices than he has in his entire life. Even raided the biology department’s library, surrounding himself with the comfort of books and files and filled his head with the soothing monotony of medical terms and safety protocols. 

But once noon has come and gone he finds himself staring into the bookshelves across from where he sits on the floor, among stacks of textbooks, with an epiphany trying to make itself known to him. Despite his every attempt to ignore it. 

His phone is back in his hand, there’s an email correspondence from Ms. Garcia that only briefly says Still nothing. And that makes up Spencer’s mind. 

[]9/23, 12:49[] I’ve thought of something.

What he types next makes it hard to breathe, his heart lodged in his throat, and it all comes flowing out of him much like before. His fingers keep moving, his emotional part of his brain steam-rolls over the rational one, and then he’s done and he’s tacked on six extra messages and Spencer has to put his phone away before he rereads it beyond what is deemed healthy or sane. 

Because he’s done what he could, and all he can do is believe that will be enough to… subliminally keep Hotch fighting. The day is only half over, and Spencer feels like he hasn’t slept in a week. 

It would be hours before he got the message that would send relief through his spine like a shot of Novocain. Just three words from Ms. Garcia, sent in haste in a text instead of an email.

{}9/23, 14:58{} He’s in recovery.

--

Hotch wakes up just barely the first time, the room spinning and hit with that familiar smell of anesthesia he can always taste as it fills his senses, before he slips back under. 

The second time is to a small pencil light being flashed in his eyes, staccato movements meant to test his pupil reactions, and an older woman in nurse’s scrubs saying his name and calling to him. He hums an affirmative, even though he isn’t fully returned to a working state of mind. Instinct, more than clarity.

“Welcome back, Agent Hotchner.”

“About damn time,” he hears Prentiss say from somewhere across the room. Probably leaning the wall, if that faux drone is anything to go by. The nurse gives her a look but his agent isn’t even fazed by it, as far as Hotch can see. It takes him a moment for his eyes to adjust that far. But he knows the look well enough he doesn’t actually have to see it. 

“Where is everyone? Is anyone else hurt?” Hotch can feel the words form on his tongue, droned out in a haze, his mind slowly coming back to him. 

“Good to see you, too, boss,” Prentiss says in mild exacerbation, coming up to the side of his bed but not taking a seat. She must have been waiting a long time, her whole stance jittery just like after long flights on cases. “Everyone is fine, you’re the only one that got into a knife fight with an unsub who’s into biological warfare.” Hotch blinks at her, trying to make her words make sense without asking it of her. He remembers going to a warehouse to follow a lead, but not much else after that. It’s coming back too slowly to keep up with her. Prentiss just sighs, and repeats herself. “Everyone is fine.” 

She regales him with a play by play, his own memories appearing like raindrops on a windshield to accompany her commentary. Slowly beginning to form a picture of what had happened. He’d been stabbed before, more than he cares to think about, and he’s been dosed with military-grade drugs before as well -- but never both at the same time. No wonder he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

“You’re lucky to be alive, honestly,” she points out, hip resting against the plastic side panels of his hospital bed. 

“Yeah, I’m gathering that.”

“And your phone has been blowing up like crazy.” 

Hotch is finally able to sit up enough and see straight without his vision swimming, to find that his agent does indeed have his cell phone in her hands. 

“What?”

“Yeah, eight missed calls and three voicemails, and--” she squints at the screen before looking at him in astonished confusion, “eighty-seven missed text messages, from a whole bunch of people. I’m not reading through all of them. I didn’t know you were that popular.” 

“I’m the Unit Chief, popularity has nothing to do with it,” Hotch deadpans, more himself. Wanting to reach for his phone but his arms are still dealing with pins and needles sensations, sluggish to lift and his fingers uncooperative. “Who called me eight times?”

“Let’s see,” she unlocks his phone -- somehow, god damn it Prentiss -- and scrolls through his notifications. “Two calls from Jessica, one from me, three from Strauss (Jesus), one from Dr. Reid, and one from Garcia. It doesn’t say who the voicemails are from.”

Hotch suddenly feels much more alert, his heart rate monitor picking up but he does his best not to draw attention to it, instead looking up at Prentiss as carefully guarded as he ever is. 

“Dr. Reid called?” he tries to keep his voice even, and unaffected, but the aftereffects of the drugs in his system leave a little more hitch in his voice than he would have liked. 

“Yeah, he’s been talking to Garcia,” Prentiss says without much comment, still scrolling through his phone and making Hotch a little more than nervous. “Busted the case wide open, and saved your life while he was at it. We never would have known you were dosed with something if he hadn’t figured it out. Think you owe that old man a fruit basket.”

“Can I have my phone back?” 

“Don’t think you’re supposed to have it,” she says without looking up, still scrolling through his notifications. “Lots of junk e-mail…”

“One of those voicemails is probably Jack, I should call and let them know I’m alright,” Hotch tries to reason with her.

“He and Jess are already on their way up, they’ll land in an hour,” Prentiss tells him, but looks over her shoulder for that nurse as she makes to hand Hotch his phone anyway. Still hesitant despite her predilections to breaking every rule she can get away with.

“I still want it back,” Hotch insists, regretting saying it as soon as he does.

It catches Prentiss’ attention a little too sharply. “...why?” But at Hotch’s steady stare and solid silence, unwavering like he hadn’t just been in surgery for hours on end, she finally relents and hands it over, still giving him a suspicious look. 

“It’s important,” he finally admits, when she doesn’t stop staring for a good couple of minutes. Those perfectly shaped eyebrows raise near to her hairline, the profiler in her connecting more dots than should be humanly possible. 

A small smile teases her lips, though not fully forming there. “Now I wish I’d read them.” 

Hotch just gives her a reprimanding look of his own, but it’s short lived.

“Thank you, for staying.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Prentiss assures him, her smile going softer. “I’ll leave you to your mystery woman.” A beat, another raised eyebrow. “Person.” A knowing look, but then she exits and Hotch is able to look at his phone at his own discretion. 

- 

Hotch goes through the text messages with a brief glance; there’s so many of them. Other agents and agencies, his team in a group chat Garcia had started, Jessica left fifteen before someone got a hold of her, and Jack’s school sending reminders about soccer and parent teacher conferences. 

But 39 are from Spencer, and his heart constricts in his chest at the worry he must have caused the man. Aches next to the scars on his chest and the blood that doesn’t belong to him in his veins. And somewhere in the recesses of his mind, it’s coupled with a torturous feeling of longing. Even subtle jealousy, because even half drugged out of his mind Hotch hadn’t missed the precise word choices Prentiss used. Garcia has been talking to Spencer -- talking. 

Garcia got to hear him.

She talked to Spencer, when he still hadn’t, because of some unspoken rule Hotch isn’t even sure when they decided upon. He still knew so little about the man, and Spencer’s voice could tell him so much with just a few words. He could fill volumes with what he would learn from just a single message --

Without much further thought, Hotch pulls up his voice mail. Listens to the automated voices and the three messages there. None are from Spencer, although his heart had beat a little harder in anticipation -- enough his heart monitor beeped audibly next to him. Embarrassing as that was, like a lovestruck teenager. He’d glared at it and centered his breathing until his heart rate slowed back down, not wanting to alert the nurses station. Two of the voicemails are from Jessica’s phone, one of her worried out of her mind, and the other of Jack telling him they are coming to see him and he hopes he feels better soon. Just listening to his son speak more strongly than his aunt had or anyone else should in his situation, telling his daddy he loves him while the sounds of a commercial airline filter through the background, makes Hotch want to smile and sob all at once.

The last voicemail is from Garcia, telling him a similar story to what Prentiss had earlier, but with a bit more detail on her end. How ‘Dr. Reid’ called her out of the blue, because there had been no time for his usual emails, and gave them the information that saved his life. He’d been working the case diligently, ever since, and was checking up on him a lot. More than a lot. ‘Let him know you’re okay, when you wake up and get this. The poor guy is worried sick, and my updates only give him so much comfort.’

Spencer had actually called Garcia, when he hasn’t physically spoken to anyone in Quantico the entire time he’s consulted for them, just to save a few precious seconds to relay what he’d found. He’d even broken their rule, probably before hand, and called Hotch -- just to make sure he was okay. Hadn’t stopped working to help, the moment he found out he wasn’t.

It’s a strange thought, that if not for Spencer -- Hotch would be dead. That Jack would be flying up here for a very different reason. 

Hotch switches over to the text messages with a lump in his throat. Not at all prepared, emotionally, but needing to know.

The 39 messages start from the night before, when they were supposed to have had their usual online chess date. They range from playful banter, teasing edged in worry, and escalate to panic as the night wears on. Anxious worry bleeding through the single sentences, building and building until that lump in his throat feels like it might block off all air soon. 

Please be okay.

God, that alone starts to set a tone -- and reveals something Hotch hadn’t expected to find. Those three words give way to his speech pathology training, and all indicate that Spencer is… very likely younger than he’d originally thought. Some of Hotch’s assumptions might be close, even the teasing ones he’d only said because he’d been sure they were wrong. The other man is obviously beyond worried about him, as well. Petrified, despite knowing the risks of his job. They had become so close the past few months, were most definitely past the flirting stage and into something so tentative and wonderful Hotch can barely believe it some days. But they had never talked about this, about the possibility that Hotch might walk into a situation one day and not walk back out of it. 

Spencer’s messages soon give way to him just… talking at Hotch. Relaying what was happening, philosophical rants meant to ease his own mind and Hotch finds himself smiling softly at the man’s constant stream of thought, lectures at genius levels that he still feels so compelled to share with Hotch. Because they are that close. They really, truly, are -- and it brightens the fluttering feeling in his chest all the more. How Spencer is trying, subliminally, to draw Hotch back to the light. Three thousand miles away.

Please come back.

Hotch hears it loud and clear, the come back to me. Even unwritten. And it makes his heart skip a beat, aching as it does.

Then…

[]9/23, 15:49[] I’ve thought of something.

[]9/23, 15:52[] I’m 29.

Hotch doesn’t understand, at first. But then it hits him.

Years.  

29 years. 

Spencer is 29 years old. Proven, further, by the following messages sent after that.

[]9/23, 15:56[] I’m a certified child prodigy, on a registry and everything. I graduated high school at just twelve years old, and had my first Ph.D. by 15. Youngest in CalTech history.

29.

Jesus Christ, no wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell Hotch his age. 29 is… far younger than he expected. 

When Spencer was born, Hotch was getting his driver’s license. 16 years difference in age…

He keeps reading, despite the numb aftermath of a bomb going off inside his head, trying to process it and also hear the younger man out.

Younger. Spencer is 16 years younger than Hotch, and he finds himself scrubbing at his face to try and wake himself up further as he reads what Spencer sent.

[]9/23, 15:57[] I turn 30 at the end of October, and I was trying to wait until then to tell you. 

[]9/23, 16:00[] I’ve noticed a prominent dynamic shift in perception, between listing my age as in my 20’s and ‘almost 30’. It’s a numerical allusion our brains can’t help. You hear 29, you think 21. It happens with decades, too, once someone is outside the familial range of 10 years. +/- either side.

[]9/23, 16:02[] An age gap doesn’t sound as bad when I’m 30. That’s why I wanted to wait, just a little while longer, but if that universal affirmation phenomenon actually works for us -- I don’t mind dealing with the consequences.

[]9/23, 16:03[] Just please come back. 

[]9/23, 16:07[] Please be okay.

[]9/23, 16:10[] I miss you.

His heart is about to be ripped to shreds. 

Hotch feels terrible, because Spencer is right. 29 sounds so young, and it keeps repeating in his head over and over. But 29 isn’t the same as 21, he isn’t some college student still stumbling around trying to figure out his life. He has five Ph.D.’s, runs three departments at one of the best universities in the country, is consulted by the FBI and Homeland Security and very obviously has a reputation he upholds to the highest regard. Hotch had guessed Spencer was 32 not so long ago, what was the big difference between that and his actual age? From what little Spencer just shared of his life story, he’s never gotten to be a kid, so who was Hotch to consider him one? What gave him the right to be floored by this, did it actually change what he thought of Spencer? How he felt about him only moments prior to reading that?

I miss you.   Come back.   Please be okay.

I’m 29.

It could be the recent flirtation with death, the anesthesia or the morphine, even the gratitude that Hotch will get to see his son again and not leave him without both his parents -- there’s so many reasons for him to take pause as he considers the messages in front of him. 

But it feels a lot like the months of talking, and the countless late nights spent together, that pile up and up in his chest. A rising pressure that reminds Hotch that he and Spencer have something, and it’s not a normal, regular situation for either of them. Something that precedent, and everything Hotch has ever been told to hold to standard, doesn’t seem to fit. He and Spencer don’t seem to fit, when looked at afar or even on paper -- but they do. They really do. It was never supposed to be something that could be this easy, or normal in any capacity.

But what about their lives ever was?

[]9/23, 18:26[] I’m so sorry I worried you.

[]9/23, 18:26[] I miss you, too.

[]9/23, 18:27[] If I stop answering you, the nurse took my phone away. I hate hospitals.

[]9/23, 18:29[] Hotch, you scared me to death.

[]9/23, 18:30[] I know, I’m sorry.

[]9/23, 18:31[] From what I heard, you saved my life.

[]9/23, 18:33[] I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for that.

[]9/23, 18:36[] Just get better.

[]9/23, 18:38[] Which means resting, don’t glare at your nurses too much. They’re there to help you.

There’s a long stretch of a pause in their correspondence, which picks up so smooth and easy it’s as if they had never stopped. Like the last few days hadn’t happened at all. But they had, they were both looking at the messages to prove that. He does take pause, maybe more than he should, and Hotch knows miles away Spencer is just as nervous. Staring at his phone.

-

Hotch isn’t wrong. Spencer let out such an exclamation of relief at Hotch’s name on his notifications he about sobbed with it. He never cries, hasn’t in years -- but his eyes sting with relief and worry and… an emotion he doesn’t want to name.

[]9/23, 18:44[] What day is your birthday?

[]9/23, 18:45[] October 28th.

[]9/23, 18:45[] Same week as mine. November 2nd.

Hotch pauses, again, considers his next response… and 3,000 miles away Spencer can barely blink as he stares at his phone with mounting dread. 

[]9/23, 18:49[] I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. It’s alright.

[]9/23, 18:51[] Am I correct in assuming you’ve never been in a relationship with this much of an age gap?

It takes Hotch a moment to even gather the courage to type that out and send it. Knows it sounds almost too formal, for them, but Hotch also knows that he and Spencer are balanced on the edge of a knife, here, and… no matter what the outcome, everything is about to change between them.

Spencer licks his lips in nervousness, reading the line over and over although he has no need to. It feels like a tipping point, and he’s still… terrified this will be his last conversation with Hotch outside of case work. Ever. 

[]9/23, 18:55[] Never. 

[]9/23, 18:57[] I haven’t had many relationships at all. My peer groups have always been older than me, and people my own age never understood me enough to be interested. So it’s just something I was used to, going without.

[]9/23, 18:59[] This has been… the closest thing to what I’ve been told is normal that I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never had the chance to have something like this with someone, or connect in this way. I gave up, for a long while there.

[]9/23, 19:01[] I’ve been in a similar situation before, on an intellectual spectrum.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never--

Hotch pauses, again, putting his thoughts in order. Weighing it all, before taking that final leap. Spencer waiting with baited breath, all the more. 

But Hotch doesn’t regret what he sends. Not one bit.

[]9/23, 19:03[] I’ve never dated anyone younger than me like this, before, so we’ll both be on a learning curve.

[]9/23, 19:03[] But we will figure it out. Together.

Spencer’s breath catches, and he can’t seem to release it again. He can’t believe what he’s reading. What Hotch has sent him. 

He said ‘dated’.

He thought they were dating. Spencer isn’t quite sure he can trust his own eyes, despite the words being there in stark black and white on his phone screen.

[]9/23, 19:06[] Dating?

Hotch smiles, because he just knows -- from that single word text -- that Spencer has sent it not in admonishment or anything negative of the sort. But in hope. Confident that he recognizes the nuance in Spencer's voice even without ever having heard it, Hotch just knows, and it makes warmth blossom anew in his chest. Sends his heart rate monitor skittering across the machine all over again.

[]9/23, 19:08[] Hate to be the one to tell you, but all of those late nights where we talked for hours instead of playing chess? Those were dates.

Spencer has his hand over his mouth, still in disbelief that he hadn’t… fucked this up beyond repair. That his age hadn’t been the deal breaker he’d feared so vehemently for months now. That everything is still as it was, age difference and life-threatening situation, aside.

They were dating. All this time.

[]9/23, 19:10[] I should have worn nicer clothes.

Hotch laughs at his phone at the same time Spencer laughs at his own, having reread what he’d sent. 

3,000 miles away, and their quiet laughter coincides perfectly. 

[]9/23, 19:11[] Our next one I’m sure I’ll be in a hospital gown, so I think you’re in the clear.

[]9/23, 19:12[] Sounds like you’re making plans, already. 

[]9/23, 19:12[] You still need rest.

[]9/23, 19:14[] Well, I have to thank you somehow. And, I saw something about poker instead of chess? I’m actually not bad at poker.

[]9/23, 19:15[] … you remember I’m from Vegas, right?

[]9/23, 19:16[] We’ll play for fake money.

[]9/23, 19:18[] No such thing.

[]9/23, 19:19[] I do play for favors, though.

[]9/23, 19:19[] Oh? 

Hotch feels a wild, youthful thing unfurl in his chest as he types away. Mischievous, almost, in a way he only gets when he and Spencer are hours deep into conversations in the middle of the night. But it’s broad daylight, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too wide. Getting lost in the thrill of it all. In the officiality of it, now, and another curtain unveiled between them.

[]9/23, 19:20[] Did you have something in mind?

Spencer has to be blushing seven shades of red, right about now, and he hides his face from his phone for a moment before he realizes how ridiculous that is -- Hotch can’t see him. He can stop messaging the man any time he wants to.

Except he doesn’t want to.

[]9/23, 19:24[] I’ll get back to you.

Hotch can’t help it as he grins at his phone. A wry, suggestive thing, but he manages to school it before a passing nurse can see him -- how his eyes are alight with possibility. With elation, just from talking to the younger man that had seemed to capture a part of him he thought wasn’t available to anyone any more, and types out one last -- slightly more flirtatious subtext to put a cap on their conversation. To indicate he’s awaiting more, always wanting a little more of Dr. Spencer Reid.

He can blame it on the morphine, later. 

[]9/23, 19:25[] Looking forward to it.

--

(tbc...)

--

Tagged List:  @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

[yunkiwii]

tattoos together | college au

Pairing: FWB!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff დ

Warnings: slightly suggestive, drinking, language

Word Count: ~3k

Requested: no, but you can see how to do so here if you’d like!

A/N: I recommend listening to tattoos together by lauv, since this is based on that song. ♡

Summary: (y/n) met Seonghwa in college and they quickly became close, ending up as friends with benefits. On a night out with some friends both of them ended up drinking a bit to much and well, I think we all know where this is going.

⇘

“Whereee shouuuuld weee go next?” (y/n) asked, loudly, as she grabbed Seonghwa’s arm so she wouldn’t fall, being tipsy from all the wine she had been drinking with her friends at dinner.

“You should probably head back home before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Don’t be a mood killer, sweetie!” (y/n) groaned back to Mia, pointing a finger to her way too sober roommate and best friend. "We still have a long long night ahead of us!" (y/n) stumbles making Seonghwa hold her closer to him.

Seonghwa wasn't nearly as drunk as (y/n), just tipsy enough to go on board with her crazy plans without thinking twice.

"So, let’s go find a party to crash!" the boy started walking away from his friends dragging a smiley faced (y/n) with him, both clearly more intoxicated than the rest of the group.

They hadn’t gone far, mainly because of how slow their feet were moving, when Hongjoong intervened.“Guys! Wait up!” they stumbled on their own feet when turning around to look at their friend. Their two friends were already approaching them. “Do you guys really think it is a good idea to just wander around like that?”

“YES!” both stated firmly at the same time before bursting into laughter.

“Well, I’m not in the mood and since you’re both adults you can take good care of yourselves.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and was about to leave when she remembered something else, “Please be quiet when you get home, and be safe.” She threw a warning look at Seonghwa when saying the last words. She knew how crazy her best friend could get with a couple of drinks and a party, and Seonghwa had a strong effect upon (y/n) that Mia never understood, and she only hoped he would use it for (y/n)’s sake.

“I’ll take you home, Mia. See you tomorrow guys.” Hongjoong did a little run to catch up to the girl. The other two friends bursted into laughter again when they saw Hongjoong place an arm around Mia’s shoulder.

“Now we know why they wanted to go home so badly…”

“Oh Seonghwa, they’re not like us. They will probably just cuddle for now. Let’s go!” (y/n) grabbed the boy’s hand and started her demand to find a party again.

“What do you mean they’re not likes us? We also cuddle!” (y/n) giggled at how offended Seonghwa sounded.

“Hm you know, they want a real relationship, we’re just friends having fun. Besides, our cuddles are never just cuddling.” She said it like it wasn’t a big deal and didn’t really think much of it. Seonghwa on the other hand got hurt, he didn’t quite understand why though. They agreed from the very start that this was a casual friends with benefits kind of thing, nothing more.

He shook these thoughts out of his head, thinking perhaps it was just the alcohol speaking.

In the meantime (y/n) uploaded a story of them on Instagram asking if there were any parties they could crash. That story led them to a new club that had opened recently, making (y/n) almost run there out of excitement. This was her first night out in two months, after being trapped between her room and the library to study for exams. Now she was finally free and wanted to live it to the fullest, Seonghwa not minding at all to join in.

Unfortunately, the excitement soon turns into disappointment. They get to the club, ID’s in hand, bodies already moving to the muffled beat leaving the building, but the security guard stops them from going any further. They look at each other and back at the big, buffy man, that blocked the entrance with his arm, with confused looks. They had already showed their ID’s, it didn’t make sense.

Then, the guard pointed at (y/n)’s clothes. She was wearing black shorts, fishnet tights, combat boots and the piece of clothing that seemed to be the problem, an oversized boyfriend style t-shirt.

“You can’t come in with boy’s clothes.” The big man stated, without an ounce of emotion in his voice.

“WHAT?” (y/n)’s posture changed completely; a defiant look marked all over her face, “That doesn’t make any sense! These aren’t boy’s clothes; these are MY CLOTHES! And even if they were boy’s clothes, we live in a free country, I can wear whatever I want!”

“Then go wear whatever you want somewhere else. You can’t come in like that, it’s the club’s policy.”

“Fuck the club’s policy! That’s so unethical what the hell?! I can’t believe people were recommending me this shit hole!” (y/n) screamed into the guard’s face, pointing fingers, waving arms and when she was finished, she spat on his shoes. Yes, she spat. Seonghwa grabbed her hand immediately pulling her out of there before they got into trouble, and ran away into nowhere, just wanting to get away.

“I’ll make sure to fill a complaint later.” Seonghwa stated after catching his breath from the unplanned cardio. “Also, I think this run sobered me.”

“I can’t believe that wearing oversized clothes is breaking club’s policy, what the hell?” (y/n) sat on the sidewalk still annoyed with the situation. “I’ve would’ve spat on his face if he weren’t to be that freaking huge.” Seonghwa laughed loudly sitting down next to her, making her laugh as well. “Thank you for pulling me out, he could probably smash me with one hand.”

“That’s what I’m here for (y/n), Mia delegated me the job when she decided to go home. But I got to say, you scare me sometimes.” He bumped his shoulder on hers lightly, making her look up at him smiling. “What should we do now? Go home?”

“I guess... the night is ruined anyway, and I also think the run sobered me.” (y/n) chuckled, leaning her head to rest on the boy’s shoulder. This simple gesture almost made Seonghwa forget how to breathe, starting to feel funny things in his stomach. He remained as still and quiet as possible, afraid that even the slightest movement would make her stand up and break the contact.

They stayed like that for a while, still recovering from the run. Until (y/n) noticed something right in front of them that made her stand up with a sudden movement, startling Seonghwa. She widened her eyes and looked down at her friend, as happy as a kid opening Christmas’ presents.

“What?”

“This night can still be memorable! I’m a genius!” she started crossing the road, stopping in the middle to look at her friend, still standing up from the sidewalk. “Come one! Hurry up!”

Seonghwa could not believe how a person could change their mood that fast. A few moments ago, she was pouty, annoyed, angry, and just wanted to go home. But now, she looks like a child and is ready for a new adventure as if nothing had happened before. He did love that about her. Love? Wait, no what? He liked her, liked, as a friend. He was sure of it. Or was he?

“How?”

“How what?”

“How are you going to make this night memorable?” that question made her smile even wider, grabbing his hand for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night, dragging him to a small shop with a neon light sign. As soon as Seonghwa realised what it was he stepped back.

“No, (y/n), no way you’re getting a tattoo here!” his face expression was shock, and nothing else.

“No, I am not. We are!”

“What do you even know about this place? Is it even hygienic?” Seonghwa glanced over the tattoo shop with disgust.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders, “but we should get inside and find out.” She stepped in without a care in the world, a little bell rang when she opened the door.

Seonghwa walked behind her looking around, analysing every small detail searching for any red flags that would tell him to get the hell out of there. So far, everything seemed nice, it was organized, the store overall seemed clean, and the tattoo drafts hung upon the walls were actually aesthetically pleasing.

“This doesn’t look so bad… but what kind of tattoo shop is opened until this late at night?” The boy wasn’t yet convinced, and (y/n) knew it would take him a while, being as cautious as he is.

“Stop being so septic about everything, Hwa!”

“May I help you?” a voice coming from behind them made (y/n) jump. A tall woman came out of the side door, probably leading to where the tattoos were made, and greeted them with a smile. “Sorry if I startled you, love.”

“Oh, hm, we want to get tattoos! Together!” Seonghwa glanced over at (y/n) wondering why she was being so weird and flustered all of a sudden, so lost looking at her that he didn’t even corrected the together part. But he went back to reality when the woman spoke again.

“So, you want matching tattoos?”

“NO! We don’t, I don’t, I haven’t agreed to this yet! (y/n), a word please?”

“We’ll be right back!” (y/n) said all smiley to the woman, who smiled back at her while she was basically being dragged to the outside again. “What the hell Hwa? You could’ve been nicer back there!”

“You are all heart eyed looking at that tattoo artist!”

“So what? … are you jealous Hwa?”, (y/n) smirked, tilting her head sweetly, pleased with how annoyed the boy looked about the situation.

“What? No! I don’t have any reason to be jealous, this,” he pointed between them,” this isn’t a relationship, so no, I’m not jealous. You wish. And don’t give me that look!”

“You look cute when you get nervous, Hwa.”

“Shut up, let’s just go home!” he said as he started to walk away, but (y/n) was stubborn and wouldn’t leave without a tattoo so she stood in front of him so he wouldn’t go any further.

“We haven’t gotten our tattoos yet. And I really want a tattoo on my thigh and I really want to do it with you!”, she pointed her index at him touching his chest slightly.

“Why though?”

“Because I don’t have any thigh tattoo yet, duh..”

“And you should get one, there’s plenty of space for it.” He smirked glancing at (y/n)’s thick thighs, getting a soft punch on his shoulder as a response. “But why with me? Do I really have to make one too?”

“Yes! I really want us to have something ours, I have one with Mia as well and you’re my only other best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

“And how will a tattoo help you with that, huh?” he crossed his arms looking down at (y/n) with furrowed eyebrows.

“When I get mad at Mia for some reason and I want to hate her, I look at the tattoo we made together and it just brings back all the good stuff and I know everything will be okay, because at the end of the day we still love each other and that won’t change over a stupid fight.” The girl gets embarrassed as soon as she realises that she just shared something that until now was only hers, making her look down at her feet. “You probably think it’s silly and that’s okay, we won’t do it if you don’t want to.” Voice quieter than before, barely audible but Seonghwa heard her just fine.

“Okay, let’s get thigh tattoos. Together.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened at the statement, and the looks of happiness and excitement of before came back to life again, making Seonghwa laugh at how adorable his friend looked.

“Really? Thank you so much Hwa!!!” she hugged his torso so tightly that he almost went out of breath.

“I have one condition though. To make it more fun, you know?” (y/n) nodded, indicating him to proceed, “I pick a design for you and you one for me, and we can only see it after it is already tattooed on our skin. What do you say?”

“Uhhh that does sound like fun! But don’t make it too big nor too dark, please!” he nodded in agreement and they went back inside to pick the said designs.

They shared their idea with the tattoo artist, who got really excited about it and took them, one at the time, into the other room to discuss their ideas and bring them to life. (y/n) picked a woman’s body silhouette, besides looking really cool it just made sense since their friendship started as something more physical than emotional. Seonghwa on the other hand chose a minimalist alien, it reminded him of when they first met and (y/n) couldn’t pronounce his name correctly and would just call him alien face, he also asked the tattoo artist to make it face her so she wouldn’t have to look into a mirror to see it properly.

(y/n) went in first to get her right thigh tattooed, so excited that she didn’t bother to take off her clothes, simply ripping her tights in the spot she wanted the tattoo.

“Hm ok, that was hot!” Seonghwa said softly, trying to control himself avoiding looking at (y/n)’s now more exposed thigh.

“Keep it in your pants, Mr. Park.” (y/n) laughed as she laid down to finally get the tattoo her dear friend picked, getting more and more anxious as the moment approached while Luna got her supplies ready. Seonghwa then pulled a chair to sit next to her and keep her distracted so she wouldn’t try to peak.

After a while, (y/n) stopped feeling the needle puncturing her skin and looked up at Luna, eyes wondering if it was already done. The other woman nodded, and she immediately stood up to see the result, a high pitch squeak leaving her lips as soon as she saw an alien facing her.

“Hwa!! I have your face on my thigh!!” her eyes wide, looking between her leg and her friend, a huge smile on her face and eyes almost tearing up at how happy she was. “I love it, I love it, I love it!” she wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and gave him a kiss on his left cheek, squeezing him against her and holding him there for a few seconds before pulling away. “Now it’s your turn! Go, go!”

Seonghwa got up right away and started to take his pants off, making (y/n) look away.

“Please (y/n), as if you’ve never seen me naked!” he chuckled throwing his pants at her as soon as got them completely off, catching her off guard making her laugh.

They repeated the same process, now with (y/n) seated in the chair keeping Seonghwa distracted by making terrible puns and dad jokes. The needle puncturing his skin stang a bit but, just like (y/n), he already had a few tattoos, so he got used to it quickly. When Luna finished the second tattoo of this iconic duo, as she started to call them, Seonghwa couldn’t help but laugh at (y/n)’s choice.

“This will certainly remind me of you and make me hate you a little less if it comes to that.” He chuckled making (y/n) blush a bit without him noticing. “Thank you for talking me into this, it’s a memorable night for sure.” And kissed her cheek, not as roughly as she did to him, it was a soft kiss, his lips barely touching her skin, and yet it was enough to make her even more flustered, awakening funny feelings in her tummy.

After spending all that money on the tattoos, they decided it would be best for their bank accounts to walk home instead of getting an uber, making their way across town to (y/n) and Mia’s apartment in a slow pace, most of the way made in silence for they were too tired and sleepy, needing to channel all their remain energy towards their legs to be able to walk.

As they were approaching (y/n)’s building their pace slowed down, stopping right in front of the pathway, the girl already looking for the keys in her messy bag while walking towards the front door.

“See you tomorrow (y/n)” he says as they reach the door, (y/n) with the keys in hand already opening the door, and he places a kiss on her forehead not breaking the contact right away. (y/n) didn’t say anything until he was already halfway the pathway.

“Hwa, wait.”

“Huh?” the boy turned around, standing near the sidewalk.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” she asked almost in a whisper, but Seonghwa heard it anyway and took a few steps closer to her.

“Oh (y/n), I would but I’m really tired and-”

“Just for cuddles, Hwa…” she tried to keep her eyes in his but the vulnerability her request showed made her instinctually look down at her feet.

“Just cuddles? Are you sure?” Seonghwa couldn’t hide his amusement, since (y/n) always made it clear that to her the benefits part of their friendship should be associated with sex at all times because, according to her, getting emotional and cuddle just for the sake of cuddling would turn this into a real and serious relationship, even though the boy tried to convince her otherwise multiple times.

“Shut up and get in before I change my mind.”

They went up to the apartment as quietly as possible, making their way to (y/n)’s bedroom right away and changing into more comfortable clothing, which to Seonghwa meant underwear and nothing more.

He laid on his back wrapping an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders as she laid her head onto his chest, embracing his torso and putting one leg over his. It was comfortable, warm, and felt safe, for both of them.

“This still doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship Hwa.” (y/n) groaned falling deeply into sleep.

“We could be though.” But (y/n) didn’t hear it.

♡MASTERLIST♡

net: @ateezlovenet

[letsgetusaghostfriend]

A Green Day concert, a bloody nose and a coming out – Sunset Curve & Green Day I

Summary: Luke and Bobby got them tickets for the Green Day show in LA on November 2nd 1994, also known as the night Billie Joe punched a homophobe and Alex came out to the guys.

Friendship fic, super Alex & Bobby centred, Luke and Reggie are not straight but don’t know that yet. Also, I know most people think Alex came out way earlier, but he has to not be out for this story to work.

((warnings: homophobia, homophobic language (not fully written out except in the band name of the opening act), slight violence, mentioned: alcohol, underage drinking (I am german, so for me it’s not underage drinking but yeah), in general: swearing))

word count: 4.9k, read here on AO3 x

~

Luke and Bobby got four tickets for the Green Day show in LA on November 2nd in 1994, it was one of Green Day’s bigger shows at that time. The boys previously have been to other concerts of the band, but the last one was in a small club in ’92, of course, all four of them being way too young for that place. Luke and Reggie were the first ones out of their group to get fake ID’s, mainly to go to gigs and play gigs. In the beginning, Alex thought he would never do the same, too scared of possible consequences, but then Luke used his stupid puppy eyes. (They still work even after Alex crush died, dead and buried). And if he was being honest, it was really helpful for playing clubs if the owners can at least pretend that they believe the four boys are old enough to be there.

Alex was aware that Green Day’s opening act, Pansy Division, was an all-gay band. And he was excited and scared at the same time. He found out because this one kid in his English class, Josh, went to the San Diego show earlier that week and told one of his friends that he shouldn’t go to the LA show as Green Day was just a bunch of “f*g lovers” and not worth their time. So Alex was scared: what if his friends would say the same thing?

They arrive late and the line is massive, Alex anxiety pitches in and reminds him that if it takes too long for them to get inside, he might miss Pansy Divisions performance. Logically he knows that they wouldn’t start letting people in so late that the opening band already starts when most people are not inside yet, but his anxiety is not that into logical thinking. He can’t help being fidgety, at one point Luke noticed and asks him if the crowd is making him uncomfortable. “Yeah, a little bit” Alex responds, not wanting further questions about why he was so anxious. The boys keep close to the bar, staying in the back first, not too excited to get into the crowd just yet. Alex knows the others would be inside the first mosh pit if it wasn’t for his anxiety, but not once did they show any signs of annoyance about his hesitancy. They just patiently wait for Alex to get used to the crowd and atmosphere, never angry when he has a bad day and he never signals that it is okay for them to go into the more crowded areas. Sometimes, especially when Luke doesn’t know where to put his energy he and Reggie go, but they always make sure that at least one person stays with Alex. He probably should tell them how thankful he is for this more often (the others would disagree here since they feel like Alex thanks them too much).

When Pansy Division started playing Alex didn’t expect them to actually sing about hooking up with guys at rock concerts, loving men, having real, deep and meaningful relationships and just, in general, doing normal daily life stuff, living with a boyfriend and how it feels after a breakup. He feels so excited, almost jumping up and down to the beat, not able to put his excited energy out on the drums like he would if it was their own concert. Alex completely forgets to check the guys for any reactions, too involved in the music. He doesn’t see that the other three boys enjoy Pansy Divisions music just as much as he does. He doesn’t see Bobby eyeing him from the side, a knowing glint in his eye.

Alex doesn’t know that Bobby saw the way Alex would look at Luke when they were 14, at Brian from History when they were 15, and how he sometimes looks at pictures from Billie Joe Armstrong in magazines. Bobby also didn’t miss Alex’ obsession with the song Coming Clean. The other boys sometimes forget about how Bobby’s parents are genuine open-minded people, who introduce him to a lot more diverse people than his friends’ parents do. So yes, maybe Alex was discreet enough for Mr Luke Oblivious Patterson and Captain Reg Oblivious Peters, and his parents who anyway only see what they want to see, but not for Bobby. Bobby, who might from an outsider’s perspective looks like he is standing a bit outside this friendship group due to him being less loud and sociable than his friends, but Bobby who loves his friends with all his heart, Bobby who truly sees his friends and knows that this is where he belongs. Seeing the absolute bliss, happiness and excitement streaming from Alex like waves is contagious.

After Pansy Division finished their set and there was a short break before Green Day would start theirs, Bobby slips from their group, mumbling that he would get another beer. Instead, he goes to buy Pansy Divisions EP, because the band was genuinely good but mostly because he knows Alex wouldn’t buy it, but he will definitely want it. On his way to the little corner where they sell the Green Day merch as well as Pansy Division stuff, Bobby realises that it was actually packed, but he soon saw that it was just a long long line for the Green Day merch. Actually, there are so many people he can’t even see the Green Day merch salesperson. He manages to get to the guy who took care of the Pansy Division stuff, he greets him with a head nod and a short “hey”, while scrambling his money out of his pant pockets to count it. He’ll have to nick a bit off of Luke’s beer later, not having enough money left to buy another one. When he reaches out to hand out the money for the CD somebody joins the guy who cared for the merch. Bobby recognises that it’s the singer of Pansy Division and he smiles at him. “Great performance, really enjoyed you guys’ music!”. The singer grins at that and holds out his left hand, which Bobby finds a bit strange, but takes it nonetheless.

“Jon, nice to meet you.”

“Bobby, pleasure is all mine.”

“Ah, you’re a musician yourself!” Jon says while checking out Bobby as if he could tell whether the kid in front of him was any good based on his appearance. It took the guitarist a second to realise that Jon must’ve felt his calloused fingers from playing the guitar during the handshake. “Yeah, I’m actually here with my bandmates.” A voice in his head, that sounds suspiciously like Reggie tunes in with “We’re Sunset Curve, tell your friends.” But Bobby pretty much felt like a child trying to play in the adults’ league, so he doesn’t say anything else. Jon grabs the CD he was about to buy and opens it while asking “So Bobby, is the CD for you or someone else?” Taken aback by that question Bobby tells him without thinking “We kind of always share records. Em, so maybe Sunset Curve?” Jon who was about to sign the inside of the CD case, pauses and looks up again “You’re in Sunset Curve?”

“Yeah, rhythm guitar.” He answers without much of a thought, it takes him two seconds then he adds: “You’ve heard of us?” Jon chuckles at Bobby’s shocked tone.

“Saw you play a few months ago. Didn’t remember your name till Mike mentioned one of your songs, always called you “the band with the cute drummer” actually.” Jon casually explained to a still shell-shocked Bobby. The comment about Alex makes him choke on his own spit though. Jon smirks, but before he can say more Bobby’s mouth starts talking before his brain gave its okay: “You saw us well enough to say that Alex is cute, but you didn’t recognise me?” After the words left his mouth, he feels his face heat up.

‘Way to embarrass yourself by having too much of an ego, Robert, great job’, he thought to himself. But Jon again laughs it off, as if he made a funny joke, smirks and asks if Alex was here tonight.

“He is,” Bobby says, voice cold, “he is also sixteen.”

Now it was Jon’s time to look embarrassed. “Oh shit, never mind then.” He pauses. “Sixteen is a bit young to play that club you played, isn’t it?” He pauses again. “You guys take this whole music thing seriously, I like that!”

More at ease again after Jon’s reaction to Alex’ age, Bobby’s brain finally catches up with everything Jon said before he called Alex cute.

“Wait, Mike as in Mike Dirnt? As in Mike Dirnt mentioned one of our songs?” he asks astounded. Jon laughs at the utter bewilderment that the younger one’s face was showing. But before he could say something about it a loud voice behind Bobby sneers: “Oh look at that, Bobby the f*g lover.” He turns around and sees Andrew from his math class. “Always knew at least one of you would be a shirt lifter!”

Bobby tries to take a deep breath before he answers but Jon beats him to it. “I would really think people were clever enough to listen to lyrics, but you still find the poser ones at these concerts, especially since Dookie got Green Day so popular outside of the scene!” Bobby needed a few seconds to realise that Jon wasn’t even talking to Andrew but instead just talked about him to Bobby and the guy selling the merch.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that you fucking fairy!” Andrew sneers, stepping closer to Jon. As soon as Andrews anger is directed towards Jon and not Bobby anymore, the guitarists fight instinct kicks in.

“Fairy? Really?” he asks Andrew with a snigger in his voice, “Didn’t know we live in the 50s, Andrew. Learned all these terms from your daddy?” Bobby tries to make his voice sound as degrading as possible. For a second it seems like Andrew might shut up and leave but then Jon starts laughing loudly about Bobby’s comments and before anyone can react Andrew takes a swing and hits Jon right on the mouth. Without thinking, Bobby copies his action and the next thing he knows is that his hand hurts and Andrew has a red square on the side of his face. He glares at the guitarist and strikes again. This time the fist hits Bobby’s nose and he sees black stars in front of his eyes for a few seconds. After that, all hell is breaking loose and Bobby is being pushed around for what feels like a few minutes before he gets pulled aside and finds himself behind the selling booth with Jon by his side who has a busted lip that is still bleeding. Jon has a hand on the teen's shoulder and looks worried at him. “Fuck your nose does not look too good!” he says. Hearing the words Bobby brings his hand up to his nose and winces when he feels a sharp pain as soon as his fingers touch his nose. “Fuuuuuuuuck, Alex is going to kill me!” he groans at the thought of how the blond will react to seeing Bobby like this.

“Hey man, good punch you got on the dickhead there!” an excited voice states beside Bobby, which makes him turn his head probably a bit too quick, considering he just got punched in the face a few minutes before. But the guitarists' instincts were right: standing beside him was no other than Green Days’ singer, Billie Joe Armstrong. The blond (with fading blue in his hair) is smiling at Bobby and continues with “but I think mine was even better” while pointing at something behind Bobby, who turns around just in time to see security carrying a half-conscious Andrew out of the venue.

“You know that guy?”

“He goes to my school!” Bobby answers, still in awe looking after Andrew.

“Oh, you need to tell me about how he looks tomorrow, man I don’t miss high school but I’d love to go to school just to see that!” Billie Joe tells him and Jon, still sounding way too excited. When Bobby turns around again to look at the two musicians in front of him, he catches Jon telling Billie Joe that Bobby is part of the band they talked about the other day. Somehow getting even more excited by the news he fully turns back to Bobby. “Love that! We need more good people in this scene so we can make sure the music stays clean of dudes like that! Well, it was lovely punching homophobes with you Bobby, but I actually have a concert to play!”

And with that Billie Joe is gone through the door leading to the backstage area and Bobby looks at Jon hoping that he can find answers with him (like is he hallucinating?) but he just chuckles at the teenagers in awe face and takes the CD Bobby wanted to buy all along, as well as the money he had already paid and hands both back at the teen with the words “I think you paid enough for this already, thanks for sticking up for me!” And adding, when Bobby tries to give the money back again, “You better go so your bandmates don’t worry and you don’t miss the Green Day show!” Bobby thanks him and with a smile he makes his way back to the other boys while putting the money and the CD into his pockets.

When Alex finally sees Bobby come back to them, he feels relief washing over him. Alex always hates it when they split especially if one of them is on their own and Bobby has been gone for way too long. The first thing Alex notices is that Bobby doesn’t carry any beer or anything else that he could’ve brought from a bar, the second thing is that Bobby’s nose is bleeding. The easing relief is instantly replaced by worry as Alex's brain catches up with his eyes. As soon as the guitarist reaches them Alex starts searching his fanny pack for tissues and anything else that can help with a bloody nose, all while berating Bobby about getting into a fight. Reggie and Luke excitedly ask Bobby about it, but when their bleeding bandmate tries to tell them about what happened Alex just shushes him and gestures for him to look up so that he can take a better look at his nose. While Alex is still cleaning up Bobby’s face the crowd starts cheering and Alex turns around quickly to confirm his suspicion that the main act finally made it on stage. He keeps on cleaning his friends face from now slightly dried blood when he hears Billie Joe's voice over the speakers.

“Sorry guys, I know we’re late, but I had to punch a homophobe…” The rest of the sentence does not reach Alex’ brain as he looks at one of his best friends, whose nose was bleeding after obviously being punched and all he can hear is white noise, while the realisation, that Bobby being the homophobe who was just punched by Green Days’ singer, sets in. He feels a sharp sting in his chest all while feeling overwhelmed by fear, cold naked fear. And his thoughts race through his brain, too fast to actually make any sense, all he knows is that his worst nightmare seems to be coming true: the people he trusts the most will eventually leave him. They will hate him. They will think he is disgusting, and they will leave him. Unconsciously he takes a step back from Bobby, taking both his hands off his friends face but before he can totally spiral into his thoughts, he is caught by Bobby who holds the drummer by his wrists and looks at him like Alex offended him deeply.

“Seriously?” Bobby’s voice comes out sharper than he probably intended, softening his tone as he sees Alex flinch at him, “You actually think I am homophobic? Fuck Alex do you really think that poorly of me?” The guitarists' words and face are both filled with what Alex can only describe as hurt. Bobby attempts to say more but he is cut off by Billie Joe's voice coming over the speakers saying his name.

“A special thanks to Bobby from Sunset Curve! Make sure you check them out they’re a local band that’ll make it big one day, I’ll promise you! I swear, give them less than a year and they’ll be playing here on this very stage! Thanks, Bobby, for helping me punch a dickhead!” And with that they start into their first song, leaving the boys standing completely mind blown in the back, each one trying to comprehend what just happened. After a few seconds, Reggie, Luke and Alex all turn to Bobby with questioning faces, but Bobby concentrates on Alex’ face. “Do you believe me now?” When Alex nods the, still bleeding, guitarist feels relief wash over him. “Good! Because I already have your Christmas present and I literally know no one else who has the same taste that you have!” He actually manages to make Alex smile with his stupid comment, feeling like they might be okay again, he holds onto Alex’ sleeve, needing something to ground him, knowing that Alex is uncomfortable with public affection. He turns to Luke and Reggie who as soon as they have his attention try to bombard him with questions, but he stops them and promises to tell them later.

___

After the concert:

When they leave the venue, a wave of, for L.A. unusually cold air, hits Bobby’s face and clears his head a little, making it easier to think about everything that had happened. As he was the first one out of the four to step out in the cold air, he takes a deep breath before turning around to see the other three boys walk up to him. He notices that Alex pulls his jean jacket tighter around his body, clearly not enjoying the cold air as Bobby does. He smiles at Bobby and then follows Reg and Luke who started walking towards the side street where they parked the van before the concert. The two boys talk animatedly about the Green Days show, analysing every detail. Seeing one of their favourite bands live did distract the two enough for them to not ask any further questions, right now. Alex smile tells Bobby that the same did not count for the blonde boy. Bobby jogs up to Alex to walk beside him, but when he tries to initiate a conversation with his bandmate, the blonde just shakes his head and mumbles, that he has things to think, but as if to calm Bobby down, Alex takes his hand and squeezes it before they reach their van. The van they brought because they actually started to be able to book enough gigs to pay for it (and to actually need it), they all paid for it, even though they don’t talk about the fact that Bobby paid the biggest part, with him having the only parents who actually support the band.

Bobby is driving, with Alex in the passenger seat lost in his thoughts and Luke and Reggie in the back, trying to get Bobby to finally tell them about what happened at the venue. The guitarist promises to tell them as soon as they arrive at the garage, but despite the impatience from Luke and Reggie to find out about everything they still have a quick stop at a small diner on their way home to get their after-concert food.

Alex, Reggie and Luke all go straight for the couch while bobby prefers sitting on the floor, facing them. For a few seconds they all munch happily but soon Luke starts bugging Bobby about what happened at the club, so he puts his sandwich aside and takes a short breath. He doesn’t know where to start, he kind of wants Alex to know that he got the CD for him, but he doesn’t want to put any pressure on Alex, nor does he want the other two to find out about Alex liking boys before Alex wants them to.

“So,” Bobby starts, “we all really liked Pansy Division, right?” he asks with a nervous laugh tinting his words. He looks at the three boys on the couch for confirmation and gets it from two of the boys while Alex looks like he gets scared by the simple indication that he might have really liked the queer band they all saw tonight. Bobby acts like he didn’t see it while deciding, that he won’t tell the blond that Jon was hitting on him. That might be a bit much information for one night. “Well, I thought,” he continues while pulling out the CD he brought earlier “I’ll get us their CD.” He waves the CD then places it on the table in front of the couch so the guys can look at it.

“And that’s where I met one of the band members, Jon, he is the singer.” He looks up at his friends who all stare at him with a mixture of shock and curiosity on their faces, even Alex nervousness seems replaced. ‘I didn’t even get to the really shocking parts yet’, Bobby thought to himself.

“Okay, so we got talking, he found out I play in a band and when he asks for a name to use to sign the CD I just said Sunset Curve, because we always share records, like I mean I don’t even know who owns what anymore!” Luke looks dead serious while nodding his head, Alex starts smiling slightly and Reggie looks like he is trying really hard to separate their shared music collection in his head.

“Anyway, it turns out he saw one of our shows earlier this year and apparently, he was talking about one of our songs with Mike, but before you get too excited, I couldn’t ask him about it because that dick Andrew from my math class interrupted us. He called me a – eh, never mind” he stops himself, giving Alex a short glance – “he started calling me and Jon names and I kind of started making fun of him for using really outdated terms and when Jon laughed about that, Andrew hit him and then I hit Andrew and he hit me back and suddenly everything got crazy. Next thing I know is that I am behind the merch booth with Jon and Billie Joe Armstrong, and Andrew is being carried outside by security.” He tries to rush the words out fast enough so that Luke doesn’t stop him because of the band being recognised and Alex doesn’t stop him because he hit someone.

“And then Billie Joe finds out I am in Sunset Curve and he says something about it being good that more good people will keep the scene going or something and then he pretty much left to play the show and Jon gave me the CD and I went back to you guys so you wouldn’t worry too much.” When he finally finishes his story, he is staring at three really shocked looking faces.

“Mike Dirnt and Billie Joe both know of Sunset Curve?”

“Who knew Bobby is such a badass!”

“You hit Andrew?”

All three started talking at the same time, but then Alex stands up and he looks real mad and everyone else shuts up. Bobby looks at him. “Alex, I didn’t plan to, it just happened. I got so mad when he started calling Jon these awful names and when he hit him, I just snapped.”

“What about our no fighting rule, huh?”

“So, when someone is being super homophobic, I am just supposed to do nothing?”

At that moment Bobby realises that Alex didn’t process until now that Andrew was using homophobic slurs against Bobby and Jon. He sees Alex anger vanish from him in mere seconds, replaced by fear and sadness settling in his eyes. Lips pressed into a thin line Alex sits down on the couch again. It breaks Bobby’s heart to see his friend like this. They all stay silent for a while.

“What did he say?” Alex asks with a voice so quiet Bobby almost misses it.

“Alex,” he sighs, “I am pretty sure you don’t want to know!”

With that Alex's eyes, which were glued to his hands before, snap up and meet Bobby’s. “You know, don’t you?” Alex asks Bobby, seemingly completely forgetting that the other boys are in the room.

Bobby does not know what to answer, not wanting to make Alex come out because he feels like he has to, or because Bobby figured it out already. “I only know what you want me to know, everything else is just a hunch.” He finally settles on.

Alex laughs. “So, you definitely know, and I actually thought I was being subtle.”

“I still love you, you know that, right?” Bobby just needs Alex to know that. Even if this is a weird one, Bobby wants this to be the reaction Alex gets for his first coming out.

It takes Alex a few seconds but finally, he looks up again, searching Bobby’s face for any trace of him lying. As Alex realises that the boy in front of him means what he said he feels like the biggest wave of relief washes over him. This, black-haired, awkward and quiet boy in front of him, who buys CD’s from queer bands, punches one of his classmates because he was being a homophobic bigot to a complete stranger and whose first reaction to Alex half-assed coming out is to tell him that he still loves him. This boy, who is so uncomfortable with most people touching him, who still wants to hold all of their hands all the time, calling them grounding. This boy, who would probably punch more people to protect them because he gets crazy protective about the people he cares about. And suddenly it’s difficult not to start crying and Alex feels like his voice will break if he tries to talk so he just nods.

And in that second, knowing he has Bobby on his side for this, he decides that he wants them all to know. So, he gets up from the couch and “gets on the runway” as Luke likes to call Alex’ nervous walking occasionally. After walking up and down three times, he suddenly stops, turns to Luke and Reg who look super confused by what is happening and he blurts out “Iamgay” so fast that there was no way that any of the guys could’ve understood a single word. So, he takes a deep breath and repeats: “I am gay” while standing there, eyes closed, and breath held.

“Oh, that…” Luke starts, but he gets interrupted by Reggie who says: “That makes so much sense, that is why you were staring at Brian so much last year! That really confused me, man!”

“I was... I was not staring at Brian Denver!” Alex sputters embarrassment creeping in his cheeks.

“You totally were, you even knew who Reg was talking about right away!” Luke laughs and gets up to pull Alex in a big hug, squeezing him tight. Reggie gets a hold of them and pulls them down on the couch where he squeezes between them, and wooshes through Alex’ hair affectionately. Alex, now half sitting on the couch and half lying on Reggie looks up to Bobby, who stands awkwardly in front of the couch. As the other two notice Bobby as well they all kind of freeze in their cuddle pile. Even as Bobby was more comfortable touching his bandmates than he was with touching his parents, or literally anyone else, he still never expressed any interest in being part of a cuddle pile before. Seeing how all of his friends stopped as he approached, the guitarist started taking a step back, but Alex stopped him by holding out his hand for Bobby to take. It takes him a few seconds but finally, he lets himself being pulled on top of Alex into the cuddle pile and even though it feels strange at first he likes the feeling of Alex’ soft t-shirt under his cheek, Reggie’s arm around his waist and the smell of Luke’s cologne.

Later that night Bobby snatches a picture of his best friends still cuddling on the couch hours later, now all fast asleep. He hasn’t shown that picture to anyone except for his daughter when she finds out about the band 25 years later and he decides to tell her about the loves of his life, even if most people wouldn’t recognise them as it since it was purely platonic love. And even though he got married, he never loved anyone as much, with the exception of his daughter, as he loved the three boys who left him when he was just 17 years old.

The next day Bobby snatches a picture of Andrews black eye. He shows that picture to Billie Joe, backstage at an event he attempts without his best friends after the man recognises him as the kid with whom he punched a homophobe. After that Bobby leaves the event early, not being able to hold up the image of Trevor, too consumed by grieve and guilt. Guilt over not being able to protect them. Guilt over not dying with them. Guilt over using their songs.

[subwonwooagenda]

Candy’s Regulars | 1

MASTERLIST

Teaser

Pairings: Camgirl!Reader X SVT

Constant Warnings: Group masturbations (sometimes), smut, use of toys, kink usage, language

Chapter Notes: This is the first official chapter of this series. I hope you’ll enjoy it and please don’t hesitate to leave feedback, good or not. Thank you for reading! The story will be in POV’s but it’ll be in third person limited (search it up), there will be no smut in this chapter, its more about you getting to know your lovely regulars more ;) That just means the next chapter will be filled to the brim with smut, also, Cheol has a hamster, enjoy that XD

Chapter Warnings: language

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

Jeonghan’s POV

Jeonghan was in awe. He didn’t know what to do or how to act with the message invite that seemed to be mocking the scream he gave as he slammed his computer shut two minutes ago.

“Okay, Han. You can do this. It’s not that big a deal. Your favorite cammer sends you an invite to be in a group chat. Happens all the time.” He tried to hype himself, his shaking hand hovering the mouse over the accept button as he screams internally. 

He gave a final sigh, pressing the right mouse button before squeezing his eyes shut. After a minute of having his eyes closed, he peeped one open, seeing the active chat that he was now a part of.

candy_princess: Oh good, Hanni is here!

He winced as he heard his audible whimper. God, he could only imagine what his name would sound like coming out of your mouth.

thetigerkingKS: Ayye, welcome to the VIP’s dude

SuperiorMaknaeDino: Holy fuck that just hit me- We’re Candy’s VIP’s bro

DroopyEyedJun: We the superior ones-

Jeonghan gave a small laugh as he read the chat, the men that were with him certainly were funny.

PrettyHanni: Ahh, i would have joined sooner but i was having an internal crisis, i guess you can call it.

S_Cheol: So basically, you were fanboying?

GentleHong: Dude, who wouldn’t fanboy over Candy?

DivaBoo: EXPOSED

HappyVirusMinnie: OOF

With a shake of his head, Jeonghan typed out a reply, figuring there was no sense in hiding his blatant fanboy moment.

PrettyHanni: Oh yeah? Don’t sit there and tell me you didn’t freak the fuck out

skyscraperGYU: I know for sure i did

S_Cheol: oh im not, i literally threw my phone across my room and scared my hamster- 

Jeonghan laughed loudly as he got himself comfortable on his bed, propping his laptop on his lap.

candy_princess: AWW you have a hamster?!

S_Cheol: haha, yea i do, he’s a little shit though

sweaterpaws_Wonwoo: Dude dont disrespect your hamster like that smh

S_Cheol: okay well when he decides to crawl into your hoodie sleeve and bite your armpit then you’ll realize-

As Jeonghan was reading (and laughing) the chat, he started thinking. He’s been watching your lives for a long time now, almost a year and a half, with the same thirteen men on a constant, yet he knew nothing about them. Then again, most people don’t try and make friendships of the basis ‘Hey, i jack off to this camgirl and i know you do too, wanna hang out?’ He gave a laugh at that thought, just imagining the scenario until he was brought back to reality by the chat.

SuperiorMaknaeDino: Hey, Candy? can i ask something

candy_princess: of course!

SuperiorMaknaeDino: I’m not complaining, but why did you make this group chat?

iconicboyhansol: I’ve been wondering that too

As Jeonghan read what he typed he tilted his head, getting lost in his thoughts once more. Why did you make the chat? What was so special about the thirteen of them that possessed you, who rarely did private streams and never did private chats to want to talk to them like this?

candy_princess: oh..well to be honest with you guys, it was mainly to say thank you for alway supporting my streams. Hell =, you guys definitely donate the most out of any of my viewers, you practically pay my rent, so i just wanted to get to know the men responsible for my happy living.

musicgodWoozi: im not crying, my goldfish stepped on my eye-

FashionistaHao: Imma be a man and admit, my eyes wet af rn

Jeonghan didn’t know how to stop his heart from pounding against his chest. He knew you were cute but this was an entire nother level of adorable and Jeonghan liked it way more than he should have.

candy_princess: Noooo, don’t cry please :<

S_Cheol: You tell us that adorable information and expect us not to be soft, Princess?

PrettyHanni: Honestly, you just became 10x more adorable to me-

He chuckled as he watched the other guys tease you for your adorable mini speech. It was strange, it almost felt normal how comfortable he felt talking with you and the others, like he belonged there with them.

iconicboyhansol: i needa google how to not fall in love with a woman ive never met-

candy_princess: awww guys >~< my blush is real right now-  but seriously, you guys make my camming so much more fun than it used to be and i appreciate that~

musicgodWoozi: We appreciate you too, Princess, i don't know any other men that would drop everything at the notification that you are live

Jeonghan chuckled at what he said, never relating to a sentence more in his life.

candy_princess: which is why i wanted to offer something...

Jeonghan’s brow quirked in interest, sitting up a bit straighter as he read your message.

DroopyEyedJun: What do you mean, baby?

candy_princess: I wanted to ask if you all would be interested in doing a few private streams, one on one, and possibly filming with me, one on one, if youre up for it...

Jeonghan’s breath hitched in his throat, causing him to go into a coughing fit, almost dropping his laptop. He was speechless. One on one cam streams as well as filming with you..holy fuck he was getting lost in his imagination.

S_Cheol: Oh fuck..you actually mean it?

SuperiorMaknaeDino: Oh fuck please don’t be playing

candy_princess: Im dead serious, i swear, but only if you all want to.

Jeonghan didn’t hesitate as he typed out his answer.

PrettyHanni: Oh fuck yes, i am 100% down

S_Cheol: me too

iconicboyhansol: Id rather die than say no, so hell yea

DroopyEyedJun: Please yes-

sweaterpaws_Wonwoo: I think i speak for all of us, so they dont gotta type, that all of us are up for it, babe

candy_princess: Then how about i message you guys privately and we can set a time and schedule?

S_Cheol: works for us baby

candy_princess: Ill start tomorrow morning but its late and i need rest if im going to be giving special treatment tomorrow ;)

Jeonghan gave a deep sigh, heart practically failing from the thoughts of getting private cams from you as well as the opportunity of filming with you. He could feel himself getting excited just at the thought of it.

GentleHong: Alright, Princess, get some sleep okay, but first drink some water and get a shower before you get too sleepy.

candy_princess: yes sir ;)

GentleHong: fUck-

Jeonghan chuckled as he watched you say your goodbyes, his own tiredness starting to set into his body as a few of them said their own goodbyes, his included. He shut off his laptop and ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he thought about the night he just had. From getting off work to jacking off as you pleased yourself on camera, to being offered the chance to be with you one on one. He was in awe. He stopped wallowing in his thoughts and got out of bed, changing into some pajama’s before getting into bed, mind not entirely prepared for what the next days would bring.

[themidnight-ghost]

I should tell you

“Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, are you dating Joanne Davidson?”

“Boss, I honestly don’t see an issue...” Kate trailed off as Ted massaged his temples.

“You don’t see an issue? She swears at her superiors, has affairs with her staff, shot an officer twice in the chest, set up a plot to kill you and replied with ‘no comment’ to almost every bloody question.”

The euphoria Kate Fleming felt around Joanne Davidson was extravagant. Even now, when they lie in bed together trying to come down from their high, Kate still felt energised. The DI rolled over to face her girlfriend, with the bedsheets pulled up to her neck and subtly smiled.

Kate ran her left hand through Jo’s hair and cupped her cheek with the other, “Morning, boss.”

Jo opened her eyes and grinned when she met Kate’s, “You don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“I want to,” Kate replied honestly.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Jo simply said as she moved forward to kiss her girlfriend tenderly. No one would have expected that Kate Fleming and Jo Davidson would become a thing. Especially after Jo’s arrest. Heck, they didn’t even know if Jo would survive prison! Jo paused their kiss, and Kate looked unexpectedly at the DI, “You should probably tell Steve and Ted.”

The moment was ruined.

Kate tensed as she sat up, pulling the duvet with her and laughing when she pulled too hard, so Jo was left bare, “What?”

“I said-'' Davidson smirked as she deliberately rolled onto Kate’s chest, making her blush, “You should tell Steve and Ted. You may not be related, but they’re your friends.”

“What if I don’t want to tell Steve?” Kate challenged with a whisper, not looking away from Jo's eyes.

“You can look at my tits, Kate. I don't mind.”

“JO!” Kate profusely blushed and shoved her ex-boss to the side,

Jo snickered and leant back into the DI for a cuddle, “It isn’t like you haven’t seen them before.”

“But seriously,” Kate hummed when she went back to being serious, “Steve will support it; I know he will. But Ted? I don’t want to tell. He might not like it.”

“But he threw confetti at that proposing gay couple?”

“That’s different. Not only am I his colleague, but I’m also dating a woman who committed multiple offences to the law and it’ll be awkward, especially in a work setting.”

“Yeah, I still feel a little guilty for that,” Jo confessed.

“You shouldn’t. It was shitty, but you did it because Pilkinton had a gun to your head and somehow made things right, but,” Kate hesitated and wrapped an arm around Jo’s torso, “that still doesn’t change what happened.”

“Steve’s your best friend, and from what I can tell, you’ve known Ted for a good while.” Jo gently kissed Kate’s jaw before shuffling away, allowing the DI to go downstairs.

“I might.” Kate smiled as she grabbed her underwear and a towel from the floor, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kate.”

Both women had been dating for a significant amount of time. Their story started when Jo broke up with Farida, and the two started getting close. After that, there had been a series of unofficial dates, secret glances, handholding, confessions and a memorable car getaway. Kate was embarrassed that it took her so long to come to terms with her feelings.

The night when Kate shot Pilkinton was definitely memorable but for all the wrong reasons. Kate couldn’t care less that she’d shot an officer; the only thing she cared about was saving Jo and getting them far away from town. She was looking forward to a life of peace without bent coppers lurking around corners and getting married to the woman she loved. That being said, Kate didn’t confess her love until Jo was in prison.

Finally arriving at work, Kate scanned her ID and headed straight for Ted’s office.

“Morning, Kate.” Hastings didn’t look up from his computer.

Tapping her on the shoulder, Steve approached with two cups of coffee from behind, “The Gaffer thinks he’s found something worth looking at.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? What’s it relating to?”

“Our friend, Jo Davidson.”

Kate’s heart dropped to the floor. Was it bad? Who was she kidding? Of course, it was going to be bad.

“I don’t want to make any sudden moves,” Ted admired his coffee, “Let’s just wait it out.”

Steve knew that Kate had some sort of soft spot for Jo. He didn’t know the details of their relationship but was aware they were close,

“Has she mentioned anything to you since she was released?”

Kate shook her head.

“Strange.” Hastings began, “I was quite hoping we’d seen the last of her. The poor girl’s been through enough as it is.”

Kate picked her fingernails, and her stomach churned over, “Can I confess something?”

“Of course…” Hastings folded his arms and leaned across the desk, gesturing for Kate to take a seat.

“Do you want me out?” DI Arnott hesitated.

“It’s alright, Steve. I need to tell both of you anyway.”

“I’ve been seeing someone,” A beat, “romantically.”

The confession slipped out, and jumping the first hurdle was surprisingly easy, but unfortunately, it wasn’t as straightforward as that.

The Gaffer corrected his posture, and Steve cocked his head, “Oh? For how long?”

“About 4 months.”

Steve looked slightly hurt, “And you never told me?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Kate replied sheepishly.

Steve and Ted weren’t blood-related, but Kate still viewed them as her family. One of Kate’s strongest memories was when Steve slept on her sofa bed every night after her husband left.

“What’s his name?”

Another hurdle appeared that Kate had to somehow jump over - the gay hurdle. Until she met Jo, Kate never imagined herself to be bisexual. The haircut had always been misleading until now.

“He’s a she.” Kate wouldn’t say she was scared of her boss, but she certainly valued his approval and Catholic beliefs.

Ted paused to think this over before leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, and smiling. The smile grew, and a flower of hope blossomed in the DI’s chest. Steve was grinning at both reactions and patted Kate reassuringly on the shoulder.

“I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us,” Steve spoke for them.

“Does this mean you’re okay with this?” Kate didn’t know why she needed an answer, but she would feel even better with confirmation.

“It’s your life, of course, we are! Now, who is she?”

“Okay, okay”, Kate could burst with excitement! Even though they didn’t know it was Jo, Kate could still describe her lover in perfect detail. “She has short, dark brown hair, which has a subtle wave at the end. She is pretty pale, so in the sun, her freckles come out, but you won’t see them unless you’re super close! Her cheeks are always red because she is somehow always blushing!” Kate continued to gush, “Her eyes are brown, and her favourite colour is blue! She was also a police officer-”

“You told them yet?” Jo Davidson leaned in the doorway with a giant grin plastered on her face, “or are you just going to keep describing my facial features?”

Silence.

Jo stopped as she realised what she’d said.

Kate looked between Jo, Steve and Ted. She loved her ex-boss, but she really needs to learn to read a situation.

Steve and Ted simultaneously looked between Kate and Jo. Their brains slowly put the puzzle together in an organised fashion. The hair, the skin, the blush, the eyes and finally, the favourite colour.

The history hurdle.

The grinding of Ted’s chair against the floor wasn’t enough to pierce the tension between the group. Kate ushered her girlfriend into the office, closing the door, taking her hand and cautiously walking over to Steve and Ted.

“Jo, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jo.” Kate introduced them, and Jo waved shily. “Jo, this is Ted, Ted this is-”

“I know who Jo Davidson is.” Ted’s voice was a deadly monotone. “How did you even get in?”

“I walked through the door.” The awkwardness had obviously got to the former SIO, who proceeded to bite her lip as she glanced around the room, eyeing the wall with great curiosity.

“Davidson.” Jo’s head snapped back to the situation as Hastings addressed her. “Are you dating one of my officers?”

“Well-” Jo didn’t know what to say, and thankfully, Ted didn’t want to hear it.

“Katherine Laura Fleming.” Kate flinched at the use of her full name.

“Your middle name is Laura?” Jo tentatively asked before Ted shut her off. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, are you dating Joanne Davidson?”

“Boss, I honestly don’t see an issue...” Kate trailed off as the Gaffer rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t see an issue?” Ted tried hard to keep his composure, “She swears at her superiors, has affairs with her staff, shot an officer twice in the chest, set up a plot to kill you and replied with ‘no comment’ to almost every bloody question.”

“She also commanded multiple armed officers, is super observant, tactically agile, Scottish and be honest: we all know I was the one who shot Ryan Pilkinton.”

Steve sniggered. “I just can’t believe you both.”

“After everything, she's done? I don’t know if I should be impressed or appalled.” Ted corrected.

“You’re not mad?” Kate pushed,

“I'm not mad, but I’m seriously debating whether I should fire you for stupidity. You said it’s been going on for 2 or 3 months, but when did it even start?”

“Jo and I have been shagging on the sly for months.” Jo snickered at Kate’s comment, “But for me, it started in the getaway car and when Jo went to prison. I always felt different about her, but it only hit me when I thought I’d lose her for good.”

Kate’s sentence pulled on Jo’s heartstrings as she remembered the recent events. Throughout her short time in prison and working on Operation Lighthouse, Kate had been her friend and colleague. She cared for Jo more than anyone else in her life and Kate was the only person to make an effort and ask about her day. Overwhelmed, the smaller woman buried her head in Kate’s shoulder, forgetting all about the angry Ted Hastings. Kate kissed Jo’s forehead and smiled fondly down at her.

Both Steve and Ted thought they knew exactly how Jo Davidson worked, especially after interviewing Farida they pictured her as a manipulative, self-centred psychopath. The recent interview didn’t exactly change their opinions either. But this was different. It wasn’t normal for anyone to see Jo vulnerable, but it looked easy when she was with Kate. Jo relaxed, her shoulders dropped, breathing steady, eyes shut with a gentle smile. And in the years Steve had known Kate, he had never seen her blush as much as she did now or look at someone with so much compassion and… love?

“Just so you know, we don’t care that you’re gay, mate. And we shouldn’t care who you date either. I think it was just a shock for Hastings here.” Steve patted his boss on the back.

“It was a shock to me too.” Jo finally addressed the room, “I thought I was done. Mentally, physically and romantically.”

“I should apologise for my words,” Ted replied sheepishly, “I have nothing against anyone, but as you can tell, I’m still a little prickly.”

Jo awkwardly picked down the skin on her fingers, “I don’t blame you, sir.” It was still a little awkward between the trio, and Ted was determined to settle things, “I didn’t get a chance to mention it, but I’m impressed with your knowledge of the law, especially in that interview.”

Kate proudly squeezed Jo’s arm, “Thank you.”

“Unfortunately,” Ted continued, “I can’t let you back on the force-”

“Oh, don’t worry about that: I’m done with police work altogether.” Jo looked fondly at Kate, “I just want to focus on my life and what I have left.”

“Wise words.” Steve nodded, “Can I get anyone another coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

“Same here.”

Steve headed towards the door, gesturing Kate to follow.

“Is it wise to leave them there alone?” Kate jogged after her colleague.

Steve grinned, “Let them talk about rules for a while; I’d rather know all about this new development!” he playfully nudged Kate’s arm and jumped for joy when they were at the coffee machine and out of sight.

“You gonna calm down now?” Kate chucked before looking serious, “By the way, what did you find out about Jo? Should I be worried?”

“Go no! There was a small break in around your apartment. We checked the security cameras and noticed Jo Davidson walking past and holding hands with…” Steve dragged out the answer before pointing to DI Fleming, “you.” Kate turned pale as Steve continued, “I had my suspicions, and we intended to mention it today, see if we could get a reaction. Guess I didn’t even have to try, mate.”

☁️ First ever Flemson fic, fist time watching Line of Duty - that ending was NOT IT (expect a 4000 word alternate ending fic soon) if you read this, thank you x ☁️

[sanchosammy]

It wasn’t a mistake.

Description: You and Frankie have been best friends for years, which is why you’re shocked to wake up in his bed after a night of drinking together. Too scared he’ll push you away after this, you push him out first. Too bad the two of you are forced to deal with your feelings on a camping trip with the guys.

Warnings: Cursing, talks of sex, drinking, I think that’s all?

NOTE: This isn’t my best work, I am not going to lie. but it is a fun read if you’re interested. Enjoy babes!

Word Count: 5,038.

“Fuck,” You moaned out. The pain from your splitting headache made for a rude awakening from your slumber. A familiar smell of cologne surrounded you as you breathed in, and a coolness lingered over your exposed skin causing you to stir further.

Your eyes slowly lifted open as you looked around your surroundings. Frankie’s bedroom... 

Oh God, Frankie’s bedroom. You noticed his arm loosely hugging your waist as he slept. The alcohol filled memories started to flood your brain and the night came back to you.

You found out about your promotion yesterday, which was kind of a big deal to you. It was something you worked your ass off for and to be recognized with a raise was everything you wanted. The boys wanted to celebrate with you truly, but it all fell through. Everyone had something come up last minute.

It wasn’t something taken personally by you, you didn’t know about the promotion until the last minute yourself. However, that did not stop Francisco Morales from wanting to celebrate this moment with you. The two of you were the closest out of everyone, a friendship that was filled with so many stupid stories and wonderful memories.

With the pictures to prove it.

Frankie was there no matter the situation. The man simply had balance to him, he would be there when you needed some to wrap their arms around you for comfort but he would also spend his weekend helping you with house projects. He does it all. The problem was he was too good of a man. Which left you madly in love with him. It started off throughout your time in the army together. You had only grown closer as time went on. Him and you spending more time together than anyone else within the last three years. 

You thought over the night before to remember how you found yourself in Frankie’s bed. The two of you had never even kissed before, how did it escalate into sex so fast? 

You carefully sat up trying not to disturb Frankie’s sleeping figure. The side of his face was pushed against his pillow as his arm hung around you. He looked so peaceful when he slept. A small smile formed as you noticed his bedhead, you loved his shaggy hair.

You looked around the room as you once again thought over the memories. Frankie wanted to celebrate the promotion no matter how much you told him it wasn’t a big deal. He knew you wanted to acknowledge your hard work deep down so he pushed on anyway. It started off with a small cheers with a couple of beers, and that turned into full blown drinking after Frankie decided to teach you an old drinking game he played as a teenager.

Truthfully, it was a simple game. You needed a shot glass and a bottle cap. The both of you had to take turns attempting to get the bottle cap into the shot glass from a distance, and if you missed then you had to drink. And if one of you actually managed to get the cap into the glass, the other person had to chug their drink.

The both of you knew you were too old to be drinking like this, but the game became a friendly competition between the two of you. The small example round turning into a full blown game and after a while the both of you were equally fucked up.

You don’t know why the mood shifted. At some point Frankie’s touch seemed to light a fire on your skin, and he must’ve felt it too because he was the first one to lean in for the kiss. Which somehow turned into the two of you having sex in his bedroom. You could remember it and you knew Frankie would too. The both of you knew how to handle your alcohol, but the judgement of sleeping with your best friend seemed to slip away with a little help from liquid courage.

Your cheeks burned at the details flashing through your mind. You had fantasized about the idea of sleeping with Frankie countless times, seeming you’ve been in love with him so long, but the real thing was so much better than you could’ve expected. He was focused on you the entire time and dammit… Francisco was a giving lover. 

The picture of him between your legs was now burned in your mind. A shame lingered behind though. You slept with your best friend. How could you do something so stupid? You managed to not openly flirt with the man for over several years and it all came crashing down after the both of you knocked back a few drinks? 

The realization of how this changed everything creeped in. The two of you probably wouldn’t be the same after this. From the silence of the house you could hear your heart shatter if you listened hard enough. All of your time together stripped away from you within a night. 

Your eyes burned at the sudden presence of hot tears. You just wanted to leave at this point, it was overwhelming. How could something feel so right, and somehow end up being so wrong? 

You shifted from the bed removing his arm as gentle as you could. Finding your clothes scattered on the floor and you hurriedly put them on. You were for sure a little hungover, but you’d have to pick something up on the way home because you didn’t have the balls to face him and have the ‘This was a mistake’ talk. You just couldn’t, it would absolutely crush you.

You closed his door and made sure to lock it behind you. The sun was too bright today as you forced yourself into the car faster than usual. The light from the sky and your sudden sky rocket of emotion causing the headache to feel so much worse.

As you backed out of his driveway, you found tears streaming down your face silently. You weren’t one to just burst into tears but this felt like a death suddenly. A death in friendship and a passing of the best part of your life so far. You looked at his house once more before pulling off and heading home.

+

The phone beeped again. You looked at it across the room before turning the TV louder. At this point you simply ignored your phone at all costs. It had been a week since you last saw Frankie, and to be honest you’ve been purposefully ignoring the man. When he did finally wake up after you left, there was no hesitation on his end to call you but you didn’t answer. And then there were several texts throughout the week. 

You tried not to read them. A few you happened to catch a glimpse of because out of a sickened curiosity you wondered if he hated you after what happened. The few that you caught said ‘(Y/N), call me please.’, ‘Can we talk about what happened?’, ‘Please talk to me.’. 

In your mind, all Frankie wanted to talk about was how this wouldn’t happen again. That it was a mistake, or maybe that drunken mistakes happen and he didn’t see you in that way. No matter what he had to say, it was somehow going to hurt you and you couldn’t bring yourself to face it. You were brave in the direct aim of live bullets shooting straight at you on operations, and somehow you found yourself being such a coward at the idea of emotional pain.

The phone rang out again and you found yourself annoyed at this point. Not at the fact Frankie was attempting to reach you all week, but that you were being forced to face emotional baggage of your failed love life. You pulled yourself off the couch and snatched the phone off the counter to silence it, that was until you saw the caller ID. 

You swiped to accept and put the phone to your ear. A part of you was nervous Frankie had told him, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t kiss and tell, or so you hoped so. 

“Hey Santiago!” 

“Hey, where you been cariño? You’re usually blowing up my phone more.” He teased you, but he was serious somewhat about the question.

You talked to all of the guys throughout your week, some more than others but that was kind of your thing nonetheless. All of you left the army with a brotherhood, and though they weren’t saps about it. Those boys were emotionally attached to you, and somewhat even adored you.

You sighed out a huff pulling some excuse out your ass about work and the promotion. He brushed the topic forward to what he really called for, “This isn’t going to be a problem for the trip, right?

You paused in your spot as you reviewed his words in your mind… Fuck, the camping trip. Your silence wasn’t the answer Pope wanted to hear. 

All of you planned out this camping trip so everyone could meet up somewhere that wasn’t a bar. It was some idea you had thrown out carelessly one night, and you were actually excited when everyone came around to the idea pretty fast. Even old grumpy ass Tom was willing to join in after a little persuading of drinking beers in the woods away from all his stress and worries. Needless to say, that sold him pretty easy.

However, this was before you drunkenly hooked up with your best friend. You ignored Frankie all week and the trip was in less than three days. You couldn’t possibly face him for several days in the literal woods without any escape from your embarrassment. No, absolutely not.

“I don’t think I can, Santi… I’m going to be pretty piled up with work now.” You lied. You felt awful doing so, but you lied your ass off.

“Listen, you’re not getting out of this trip unless you’re dead or kidnapped.” Yeah, that sounded like Santiago. You tried to cut in with a but before he continued, he brushed off your plea to escape this. “You’re not cancelling on us, (Y/L/N). I don’t care if I have to pull you out of bed Saturday morning, you’re coming with us.”

Fuck me. You have to be kidding me. You internally groaned.  “Alright, alright! No need to threaten me, sheesh. I’ll be ready.”

In much Santiago style, he teased you with a “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” which pulled a chuckle out of you in response as you rolled your eyes.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The home screen goes back to reveal the five missed text messages and two missed calls from Frankie from this week. You guiltily put your phone back down to once again pretend you didn’t see the unopened messages from him.

You had no idea how you were going to get through this trip without wanting to throw yourself off a cliff. This was about to be torture.

+

You pulled into Frankie’s driveway noticing several men gathered around a van, all of them filled with laughter about something. All of you pitched in to rent a travel van instead of driving two separate cars. Unsure on who decided that bright idea because six of you in a van sounded like possibly the best and worst experience all in one.

The group turned towards you as you shut the car door behind you. “Finally, the pretty one has arrived.” You chirped in as a joke. Will replied before anyone else had a chance to, “Oh please, you know that’s Pope’s title.”

You would’ve smacked him on the arm jokingly, but Will picked you up in a bear hug before you could. You hadn’t seen him in nearly two months, and so the hug was extra special this time. You laughed in his tight hold before he released you back on your feet.  You made sure to hug the rest of the guys as you always did.

The comfort of their hugs is something money couldn’t buy.. After you hugged Tom you noticed Frankie wasn’t around. As awful as it sounded, a part of you hoped he would cancel out on the trip because of the awkwardness between the both of you.

“Catfish is inside, he’ll be out in a second.” Will commented as he noticed your wandering eyes. You just nodded before going back to your car to pull out the cooler. Benny followed behind to help without being asked. 

You purchased half of the food for the trip. Everyone had agreed to pitch money in for different parts of the trip. Food, supplies, gas, and so forth. You pulled your backpack from the backseat before locking the doors, fully ready to start your little adventure.

“Hey,” Frankie’s voice came from behind you causing you to jump. You turned to look at him before mumbling a quiet hey back. You noticed how he looked at you in a way that seemed like he was studying your face rather than simply looking at it. His brown eyes scanning over your features.

You knew he wanted to say something about your disappearance the past week. You could see it on his face. He was fully ready to confront the situation, and he would’ve if your mutual friends weren’t standing behind him.

You looked at each other silently for a moment. Frankie was looking at you like a kicked animal, and he felt like one too. The emotional and physical distance you placed confused and hurt him more than you knew.

You shifted your stare past him to break the uncomfortable eye contact only to find Santiago watching the moment unfold. You pushed past Frankie without a word before heading to the van.

Normally, in any situation, you had unspoken rights to sit beside Frankie. It was just an unofficial rule that everyone naturally followed by now, and that’s probably why Tom and Santiago stared at you suspiciously as you crammed yourself in the back seat with Will instead.

The hurt in Frankie’s face wasn’t something you were blind to. He sat down with a huff coming from his chest as he found a spot in front of you beside Ben. The whole situation was becoming ridiculous and you knew that, but you couldn’t find the strength to talk it out with him. You found it so much easier to avoid the situation completely as selfish as it was.

Will wrapped his arm around you and snickered, “Looks like I stole your girl, fish.”

You cringed in response to his words. Frankie crossed his arms as he adjusted in his seat. If someone didn’t know Frankie well, it seemed like he just ignored the statement completely. A joke that he didn’t find funny possibly. However, you could read his body language. His shoulders remained tight as they often did when he was stressed out.

You wanted to shrink under the vision of Tom who looked at you from the sun visor mirror. It was only a small moment of eye contact before he lifted the visor back up. This was going to be a long three days… 

+

The rest of the car ride wasn’t terrible. The conversation moved to different topics like Benny’s upcoming fight, which you promised to go to. Sunset was already in motion once you arrived at the location and so the six of you carried stuff down the trail as a team.  It kind of reminded you of the past and it was a little heart warming of a thought.

You all agreed on a spot that was far out from the other campers. It could have been the bitterness of a grumpy old man but none of you wanted to deal with people on this trip. It was meant to be total isolation with friends.

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” You asked as you picked up the box. A tent labeled for four to six people. No, he did not. “Will, you seriously expect everyone to sleep in the same tent for three days?”

All eyes shifted to Will. Tom letting out a dramatic huff with a ‘isn’t that fucking great.’ and everyone else let out some sort of complaint at the thought of being squished together for several days.

“What?” Will shrugged as he pulled the box from your hands. He walked back over to where the tent was supposed to go  soon as he snickered out. “You guys scared I’m gonna cuddle you or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m more scared you’ll get the wrong idea. I don’t think you’re our type, sorry Ironhead.”

The joke earned a few chuckles from the rest of the guys. Will hardly looked over at you as he replied, his focus remained too busy on pulling out the tent materials. “Apparently nobody’s your type. I mean, seriously, when was the last time we’ve seen Ghost date somebody?”

Your face felt warm from embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong though, it had been nearly two years since you’ve been on an actual date. Tom chuckled as he looked up from the little travel grill he was setting up for dinner “He’s got you there. You batting for the other team or something, (Y/N)?”

Everyone pretended to continue their tasks but you could feel their attention on you. You handed him the supplies for dinner as you mumbled out, clearly unhappy by the question “No, I just… haven’t found someone is all.”  

A certain pair of eyes were burning in the back of your head. A pain in Frankie’s heart as he heard the words. It was not only a confirmation that you regretted the week before, but that you weren’t interested in him at all. He wanted to go home already, this was a stupid idea.

There was a weird shift in the air before Will returned to the original topic at hand. “There’s another tent over there. Walmart only had two left in the camping section,” 

And sure enough there was. The second tent was much smaller and by the time you helped finish setting them both up, you realized one of them would only fit two people inside. You fell back into the chair looking at the work you accomplished in the thirty minutes. 

“So, who is sleeping in the peasant tent?” You joked.

“You and Frankie.” Santi commented casually as he helped Tom. The both of them focused on the burger’s he attempted to cook on the small travel grill. Frankie watched you to see your reaction.

“What? Why us?” You mumbled popping the top off your beer. 

Santi continued “Why not? The two of you have already shared a bed before at the rental house. That is unless you’re trying to sneak me into your tent, (Y/N).” He winked before looking back at the food. He flirted mindlessly but it was never serious with Pope, he saw you as a sister at the end of the day.

 “Frankie it is then.” You laughed but inside you wanted to die. You had to sleep next to Frankie for three nights after the awkward tension of sleeping together. What did you do so wrong in the world, you wondered.

Time had passed by pretty quick. Everyone was full from dinner and sitting around the fire with a beer. You found yourself next to Will once again. At this point it was simply to avoid putting your chair next to Frankie to put some distance between the two of you. 

Benny was talking about some girl he was seeing for the last two months. “Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s going to work out.” He sipped his beer as he stared into the fire.

“What, why?” You asked.

“I think she’s more into the idea of hooking up more than anything.” He shrugged. 

You hummed in acknowledgment before Tom chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about having sex with someone.”

“Leave him alone, Benny is a teddy bear. He needs a little more care with his lovin’” You mumbled with a teasing smile as you pulled your jacket tighter around you. Benny let out a small ‘whatever’ while laughing, not caring to explain himself further.

“Hey Fish, whatever happened to that girl you were seeing?” Tom looked over at him and everyone followed the action to watch Frankie now.

He looked a little surprised at the sudden attention. When the conversation wasn’t on him, he liked to sit back and listen in silence for the most part. He tended to be a quiet person like that, not wanting to put forth too much.

He shook his head as he looked back down at the fire. His words coming out nonchalant and not interested in the topic, “Tina? That was over two years ago.” 

“No, not that one.” Tom said without much thought. Frankie stiffened as the realization washed over him. He never thought the situation would be brought to light. Tom continued on, “That one hookup a couple of months ago. You two didn’t have anything going on?”

Frankie found himself frozen under your sudden stare on him. His eyes caught yours, and he wanted to die in his seat.

It was a mindless one night stand… That happened twice, funny enough. It was the one thing he never mentioned to you in fear it would ruin his future chance. The whole thing happened seven months ago. Someone close to him passed suddenly and he wanted to forget it for a moment, and a woman he knew from high school happened to be in the bar two weekends in a row. 

“You never told me about that.” You tried to sound uninterested, but the look in your eyes spoke loudly. 

He cleared his throat. The ability to say anything helpful in this situation left him, and he just looked at the bottle in his hand. “It was a mistake anyway.” He said before pressing his lips to the top of the bottle and swallowing a mouthful.

You didn’t know why you were this upset. You sat miserable watching Frankie avoid your stare. 

Your jaw tight from anger building up inside. Not only were you hurt by him keeping secrets, but that wasn’t the part that hurt the most. Jealousy had washed over like some sort of fire. A painful and filled with an unstoppable burning inside. 

“Whatever, I’m going to go piss.” You muttered under your breath as you walked away from the men. You just wanted to be alone and away from him.

Santi shook his head as he stood up from his chair, “You’ve really done it now, Fish.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Frankie muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned into his chair hoping to sink into the ground.

Santiago ignored him as he followed you into the woods. He knew this was just some lame excuse to walk away from the situation. If sexual tension was ever in the air, the first person to find it would be Pope. He knew what was going on with the two of you, he figured it out after spending the day watching the both of you interact.

“So, when did you and Frankie sleep together?” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice. Santi matched with your now slowing steps as the both of you stopped completely. Far enough out of view from the boys. You recovered from the small scare before rolling your eyes, “What are you talking about Pope?” 

He chuckled with a small smirk on his face. The moon was the only reason you could see his face considering you forgot your flashlight in your hurry. “Oh, come on. You don’t think I know?”

You considered not answering because you didn’t want to admit out loud. The situation is humiliating enough already. A small sigh left your lips before you nodded in confirmation, your tone sounding defeated. “Alright, yeah. We slept together last week, but we were pretty drunk… It was a mistake.”

“I don’t think it was.” Pope commented as he found a tree to lean against. He watched you for a moment before continuing. “I know this isn’t my place to say this, but… Somebody needs to because Frankie won’t grow a pair. You know the real reason him and Tina broke up?”

You shrugged, “Something about not liking me around.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that was a part of it.” You watched as he chewed on his lip for a moment. He wasn’t nervous by any means, but deep in thought about what he was about to reveal. “They were in some argument one night, she asked him if he loved you… And he couldn’t say no.”

“What?” You were left stunned. Your mouth felt dry as you processed the information. 

Santi walked over laying a hand on your shoulder, “I’m telling you, (Y/N). It wasn’t a mistake.” He patted your shoulder as he walked past you and continued back to the campsite.

The talk was short and sweet, but it left you more confused than before. Did Frankie actually love you? He mentioned she didn’t like you in the past, but you didn’t know that was the reason. What if Frankie really stayed single this long because he was trying to find a chance with you?

You walked back in silence to the spot you came from. Frankie focusing on you as you walked into view before sitting down again. Nobody mentioned the situation with Santi, or how long you had been gone. It wasn’t worth ruining the conversation over. 

You found yourself leaning on Will’s shoulder sleepily. The chatter of friends filling your ears as you sat there quietly. You didn’t know if it was the emotions draining you or the day of travel. The longer the night went on you found yourself more and more tired.

You closed your eyes to rest them. It was supposed to be a second, but it must’ve been much longer because you opened them again and you were safely in the tent now.  You could tell Frankie was in the tent, his body as far away from you as possible as he slept. When did you fall asleep? When did everyone call it a night? You wondered silently.

You shivered in the drop of temperature. You didn’t think it would be this cold tonight, the weather throughout the day was so warm on your skin and now you had goosebumps. 

“Are you cold?” Frankie’s quiet voice scared you. He shifted from his side onto his back as he looked over at you.

“Shit, you scared me.” You let out a quiet laugh before clearing your throat awkwardly, your voice thick with sleep. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

He paid no attention to your comment as he moved his extra blanket on you instead. You attempted to make out his features as he moved to lay back down in his spot away from you, the darkness of the tent made it impossible though. A moment passed as you listened to the sound of his quiet breathing.

You swallowed hard trying to settle your nerves before speaking up in a whisper. “I’m sorry by the way.”

“For what?” He asked, turning his face towards yours. He wished he could see your beautiful face.

“Everything… I shouldn’t have avoided you, you know?” 

He heard you, but he didn’t reply. The soft sound of crickets outside filled your ears instead. You decided to continue even if it wasn’t the ideal location to do so. “Do you regret sleeping with me?” 

“No…” His voice croaked from whispering. He cleared his throat after a bit before asking “Do you?”

“No,” You admit and although you couldn’t see it, a small smile formed on his face. A chance of hope flashing through his eyes. 

“Can I tell you something?” You breathed out.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Frankie stiffened when he felt your hand brush against his. When he realized you were reaching out to hold it, his fingers automatically linked between yours and he squeezed your hand softly.

“Don’t laugh at me, okay?” Your voice broke with emotion before you let out a breathy chuckle. His thumb subconsciously began to stroke your hand in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the first time we went on a helicopter ride.”

He stopped to recall the memory. Both of you were still in the army together when Frankie wanted to take you on your first flight. You were so nervous in the beginning, he had spent half the flight talking to keep you distracted. “That was over five years ago.” Frankie commented, the shock was noticeable in his voice. 

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed.

Frankie moved closer to you. His movements slow and careful in case you asked him to stop. He was leaning above you now, you didn’t realize how close he was until you could feel the warmth of his breath. Your fingers moved to run through his hair similar to the way they did the night you slept together. He was hesitant to move in as if he wasn’t sure if he should kiss you, so you leaned in pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was slow and drawn out this time as if Frankie was soaking in the moment. Unlike the night before when the two of you were nearly falling over each other. He pulled away pressing his forehead against yours “I’ve known since the time you made me a cake for my birthday.”

“Frankie, that was our first year in the Army?” 

He chuckles as he pecks your lips, repeating the same line you used, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why did we wait this long?” You asked out loud. Your arms wrapped around him before he pulled you down to lay on his chest instead. His body heat warming you up within seconds.

He shook his head. He should’ve done this so long ago. A smile settled on his face as the realization settled in he finally got his girl.

[iliumheightnights]

We Have a jedi [11] |Peter Parker x Male!Stark Reader

Fandom: Star Wars and Marvel

Pairing: Tony Stark x Son Reader, Peter Parker x Male Reader

Summary: (M/N) returns to earth. His return reveals secrets and he meets a someone new.

Read From The Start

...

The lights of New York always made the city shine, even if parts of it weren’t the brightest. The sounds of cars honking and traffic were like music to his ears. He was dragged away from the flashing lights and traffic by the sound of a hiss. He turned and looked at Sheyo in his arms, she was gritting her teeth. “It hurts. Can we get to a medic?” (M/N) nodded and helped her up. “Don’t worry I’ll get you some help.” (M/N) quickly put the space stone into his pocket and wrapped her arm around his shoulder and lifted her up. “If it starts to hurt too much let me know, I’ll carry you.” Sheyo laughed. “You carry me? You can barely carry a field crate without help from the force!” (M/N) only rolled his eyes at her, but still stifled his own laughter. Carrying her out of the alley they had arrived in, Sheyo finally got to see what earth looked like. “Where are we?” The two continued to walk down the sidewalk, passerby’s giving their own glances and glares at the two of them for what they were wearing and at Sheyo especially. “Terra. But they call it earth. I’ve been here once before.” He stopped talking for a bit but decided to continue. “Sheyo...you know how I’ve been kind of distant lately? Well, you’re going to find out why here. I just ask that you keep an open mind.” She looked at him strange but smiled. “(M/N), You know I’ve always had an open mind. I’m sure whatever it is we can handle it.”

As they made their way through the city, they ended up seeing a large crowd. “Hey look, there’s a giant ball on top of that building.” Looking up (M/N) saw it, on top of a building was a ball on a pole, the words happy new year not lit up below it. So it had been not just a year...but two that he had been away. He didn’t realize he was gone for so long. Only now did he realize that the air was chilly. “That’s how they celebrate a new year here. Come on we gotta get you patched up.”

After passing the crowd, the two were getting closer to avengers tower. (M/N) was getting antsy, he of course wanted to get Sheyo to a medic...but he wanted to see his dad. He missed him. It wasn’t long before he felt a disturbance in the force. “We’re being followed.” Sheyo whispered to him. “I felt it too.” Two figures were walking in front of them and (M/N) could tell they were trouble. Not seeing any other option, he turned into an alleyway. “Stay behind me.” He set Sheyo on a trashcan, better to keep her off her leg. “Look who we have here fellas, got some people playing dress up...and a freak.” (M/N) could feel his anger building up. “We want no trouble. Leave...and don’t get hurt.” The men laughed. “Leave and don’t get hurt! Oh boy I’m so scared.”

“He told you to leave.” That wasn’t Sheyo’s voice. (M/N) looked up and saw a person dressed in red and blue hanging onto the wall. “I think you should listen to him.” The men sneered at him. “And who are you?” The boy looked shocked. “I’m spiderman!” Even (M/N) looked at him strangely. Really spiderman? “Whatever. I wanna look at the freak.” One of the men walked forward and put a hand on (M/N)’s shoulder trying to push past him. In an instant, he ignited his lightsaber and cut the man’s arm off. “AAAAHHHH!” The man laid on the ground in pain. “Holy shit! You took off his arm!” The boy yelled from the wall. (M/N) turned back to the man on the ground and pointed his saber at him. “Leave.” The men didn’t need to be told twice, they all scattered. (M/N) let out a sigh and returned to Sheyo. “Are you okay?” Sheyo laughed. “I am, don’t think the man is.” (M/N) could tell the boy was still there. “Thank you for trying to help at least. Are you an avenger?” He turned back to the boy who was now on the ground. “Who me? Uh no, not yet at least. I’m Pet-erg spiderman. I’m spiderman.” (M/N) laughed. “You said that already...also might wanna practice that some more. Don’t want your actual name to slip out, Peter.” Peter rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah...so are those lightsabers? Like from star wars?” (M/N) sighed, of course here comes that again. “Yes these are lightsabers, yes we’re jedi, no the events of star wars are still just fiction to you.” Peter nodded. “Ooohhh. Okay.” He started jumping with excitement. “But that still means star wars still exists and so does the force and all that.” Sheyo leaned over to (M/N). “Star wars?” (M/N) only said he’d tell her later and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulders to steady the boy. “Peter, calm down. Can you help me get my friend to Avengers tower? I need to get my friend to a medic.” Peter looked over at Sheyo who was waving at him. “Oh...oh of course!” The two boys helped carry Sheyo to the tower. “I still can’t believe star wars is somewhat real.”

Avengers tower, previously Stark tower, was always a sight for (M/N)’s eyes. He didn’t get to spend a lot of time in it, but it had become home to him. “I’ve never been this close before. I usually don’t have a reason to be.” (M/N) looked over at Peter who was in awe...at least he thought he was. It was hard to tell with his makeshift mask. “So why did you want to come here instead of a hospital? I’m not sure they’ll let you in.” (M/N) let out a huffed laugh. “They’ll let me in. If they don’t I won’t let them live it down.” With that he pulled the three of them into the building.

The lobby of the tower hadn’t changed that much since the last time he was there. There were some new couches and monitors set up and the receptionist was different. Speaking of the receptionist, she had looked up as the three of them walked past. “Um...excuse me. I need to see your id!” (M/N) ignored her as he kept walking, he could tell security was following them. “Jarvis. I’m back and need to get to the labs. These two are with me.” The guards had just stopped them as Jarvis’ voice came through. “(M/N)! You have been missed. Your father will be so happy to see you. Do you want me to alert him to your arrival?”  “No thank you Jarvis. I’ll find him myself. Can you tell these fine gentlemen to please move?” Jarvis did so and the three moved to the elevator. “If I may ask sir...where have you been?” (M/N) sighed. “A long story.” Sheyo looked at him. “Father? (M/N) what’s going on?” He hadn’t even realized that he had talked about his father in front of Sheyo. Hopefully she’d be understanding. “I thought you said you had an open mind?” She glared at him. “I do. Could have at least told me so I didn’t show up all messed up.” He smirked at her. “Next time Sheyo, baby steps.” She chuckled.

The elevator door opened and the three were on the move again. The labs were new. While Tony had labs before, these were newly upgraded ones...and they were nice. They passed through a pair of doors and entered a lab where they were greeted by a certain scientist in a purple shirt. “Bruce.” Bruce looked up at his name and was shocked by what he saw. “(M/N)! You’re back!” He got up and embraced the boy who hugged back. “It’s good to see you too Bruce. My friend, I think her legs broke, can you take a look?” He nodded and looked at Sheyo. “I..I can take a look.” Sheyo smiled at him. “Yes I’m green. I’m a Mirialan, nice to meet you.” (M/N) laughed. “Don’t worry Sheyo, he’s green too.” (M/N) helped get Sheyo on the table. “I’m going to find my dad. Peter, can you stay with Sheyo and Bruce until I get back?” The boy nodded. “I can wait...I’m with Bruce Banner, and jedi...in avengers tower.” (M/N) shook his head and smiled. “Yes, you are. I’ll be right back.” (M/N) was about to exit the lab before Bruce stopped him. “Oh he’s not here right now. He’s at a new years party with the other avengers. I’m not there since...you know, I don’t like parties.” (M/N) was a little disappointed hearing that. “Oh. That makes sense. Well...I’m not going anywhere so I can wait.” Peter looked at him. “Your dad’s an avenger?” (M/N) looked at him. “My dad’s Iron man.” Peter started fidgeting excitedly. “Oh my god! You’re Tony Stark’s son!? Does he even have a son?!” (M/N) shrugged his shoulders. “Kind of.” Bruce faked a cough. “Um, (M/N) if you want...your dad actually set something up if you ever came back. I can have Jarvis lead you there.” (M/N) nodded, he had time to kill anyway. “I guess I’ll take a look. Take care of my friend Bruce.” Bruce nodded and continued his work with Sheyo. (M/N) left leaving Peter with them. “Alright Jarvis, tell me where to go.”

The elevator opened on the living area floor. This had changed dramatically since the last time too. From the looks of it, the rest of the avengers had moved into the tower. It reminded (M/N) of being back in the jedi temple, everyone living together. “So...what exactly am I looking for J?” He stood in the middle of the living room. “The hallway to your right, the last door on the left.” Walking to where Jarvis instructed, he opened the door and entered. The room was a good size and space themed. There were books and posters. A tv and game consoles. “Jarvis what is this?” He already knew the answer. “This is your room sir. Mr.Stark wanted to give you your own space for when you returned.” “When?” “Yes sir, when. Mr.Stark always believed that you would come back. You being here proves he was right.” (M/N) laughed softly at that and sat on the bed. “Yeah...I guess you’re right.”

From outside the windows (M/N) could see people celebrating and partying, even from high up. He wasn’t on earth long enough to experience or see any sort of holiday or celebrations like this. He wondered if maybe one day he’d get to experience one properly. Clint had told him about one called Christmas that sounded nice to (M/N), seemed sort of like life day. There was a knock on the door and Peter popped in, but he was looking a little different. “Hey, you took your mask off.” Peter stood frozen and then realized he had. “Oh, oh yeah. I figured since you already knew my name and that you’re pretty much an avenger that I could trust you.” He stepped inside the room and looked around. “Nice digs. You really got set up here.” (M/N) smirked as he looked around with Peter. “I wouldn’t know. I have NO clue what most of these are.” Peter smiled at him. “I can help you out sometime if you want.” (M/N) smiled at him too. “I’d like that. So, did you need me for something?” Peter shook his head as he remembered. “Oh yeah. Doctor Banner asked for you to return to the lab. Something about not spending your first new years alone.” (M/N) smiled and stood up from his bed. “That sounds pretty nice.” He and Peter exited his room, (M/N) walked to the elevator but noticed Peter wasn’t following him. “Hey. You coming?” Peter shook his head. “I should probably get home. My aunt’s probably wondering where I am.” (M/N) smiled at the boy and walked closer. He brought his hand out for a handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you Peter. Thanks for your help. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” Peter grabbed his hand and shook it. “Yeah you too. I’m sure we will.” With that Peter put his mask back and exited to the balcony. (M/N) watched as he shot something from his hand and swung off. “Hugh, I guess he really is spiderman.”

Returning to the balcony he found Bruce looking over a screen while Sheyo was sitting on the table. “How’s the leg?” She smiled at him. “It’s alright. Just sprained. Gonna need to stay off it for a couple days. It would be better healed sooner if we had some bacta.” (M/N) sat on the table beside her. “Well we don’t. You’ll just have to suffer.” She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Oh very funny. That’s the thanks I get for risking my life?” With that Bruce looked back towards them. “Sheyo filled me in on what happened. So...you really fought that blue guy again?” (M/N) nodded. “I did. Sadly I didn’t put a more...permanent end to him then I was hoping.” Bruce was looking at him a little concerned but ultimately smiled. “Well, in any case I’m glad you’re okay...and back here with us.” The man patted his shoulder. “Thanks Bruce. It’s good to be back.” The man cleared his throat. “Well...how about we head to the living room and watch the ball drop?” Sheyo and (M/N) looked at him strangely. “The what? doing what?”

The three of them had moved to the living room and watched as the new year ushered in. (M/N) would be lying if he said the whole ball thing didn’t confuse him, but each planet had their own customs. Bruce had made them some food which they ate gratefully, they hadn’t eaten since long before the battle. After everything Bruce had set Sheyo up in a guest room and (M/N) said good night to Bruce as the man retired to his own room. (M/N) wasn’t going anywhere yet, not until his dad came back.

(M/N) stood at the window and looked over the city. It was about 1 in the morning and the parties and celebrations were still going on but he could tell it was starting to die down. The ding of the elevator brought him back to attention. “That was some party. Better than last year’s by far.” That was Clint’s voice. “You only say that because you couldn’t attend last year.” Natasha. He could tell by their voices that they were getting closer. Turning around he watched the hallway and saw the two, plus Steve and Tony, turn the corner. “I’m just saying they should have at least had party hats.” Everyone stopped their banter and laughter as they saw they weren’t alone. (M/N) could feel his hands go sweaty as his dad finally made eye contact with him. He heard his voice crack as tears built up in his eyes. “Happy new year.” It was quiet for a bit, no one really doing anything. A laugh came from Tony. “About damn time.” Then he pushed past everyone else and engulfed him in a hug. “About time kid.”

[sinceileftyoublog]

Indigo De Souza Interview: Compassion for Different Modalities

Photo by Charlie Boss

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Calling from her home near Asheville, North Carolina earlier this month, singer-songwriter Indigo De Souza is getting ready to go on tour behind her terrific sophomore album Any Shape You Take (Saddle Creek). Like everyone, she’s anxious about navigating the current COVID-19 landscape, but how she and her band adapt to a live performance and play the multi-dimensional songs that make up the record seems to be of little concern. I guess if I was as talented as De Souza, I wouldn’t be worried, either. Released last month, Any Shape You Take is a stunning series of ruminations on love and relationships, platonic and romantic, that span a number of years in De Souza’s life. Raised in a conservative small town in North Carolina by a mom who was an artist, De Souza doesn’t shy away from the fact that her family did not fit in. At the encouragement of her mother, she leaned into her artistic visions, making music as early as 9 years old, releasing her first EP in 2016.

After self-releasing her (very appropriately titled) first album I Love My Mom in 2018, De Souza signed to indie stalwarts Saddle Creek, who rereleased her debut and supplied her with the means to craft a much larger-sounding follow-up. Working with prolific secret weapon co-producer Brad Cook, her first proper label release occupies an incredible amount of genre territory. “This is the way I’m going to bend,” announces De Souza on auto-tuned synth pop opener “17″ before, well, bending in a number of different directions. “Darker Than Death” and “Die/Cry”, nervous songs that were written years ago, sport fitting build-ups, the former’s slow hi hats and cymbals giving way to jolts of guitar noise, the latter’s jangly rock taking a back seat to yelped harmonies. Songs like “Pretty Pictures” and “Hold U” reenter the dance world, the latter an especially catchy neo soul and funk highlight, a simple earworm of a love song. In the end, whether playing scraped, slow-burning guitar or rubbery keyboard, De Souza’s thoughtful and honest meditations center the emotionally charged album, one of the very best of the year.

De Souza takes her live show to the Beat Kitchen tonight and tomorrow night (both sold out) with Dan Wriggins of Friendship opening. Read our interview with De Souza about the making of Any Shape You Take and her songwriting process.

Since I Left You: On Any Shape You Take, there seems to be a good mix of folks you’ve worked with before and folks you’re working with for the first time. What did each group bring to the table?

Indigo De Souza: Brad Cook was co-producing. It was my first time working with a producer on something. That was crazy. He was very supportive of everything and very encouraging. It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of who wanted to encourage my vision. I also worked with Alex [Farrar] and Adam [McDaniel] from drop of sun studios in Asheville. They’re both just so sweet and talented. They were engineering but also helped with production as well. I ended up getting really close with Alex, and me and Alex finished out the album together doing vocal overdubs and random overdubs. It feels like he did a lot of production on the album and was a star for me in the process. They were all great to work with. It was interesting to me to have so many people working on the album.

What I realized after the fact, [though], was that it was kind of distracting for me to have so many brains working on it. It taught me I actually feel very confidently about my vision for songs, and I can trust myself to have ideas for my own songs. I think I was scared going in that I was going to come up blank in that scenario because it was such a high-pressure thing, getting on a label and making a high-production album. But I definitely thrived in the space. It was really fun.

SILY: It shows in the finished product. There are so many different styles and subgenres within the record. Do you listen to all the types of music that show up on this record?

IDS: Yeah, for sure. Mostly, I listen to pop music and dance music. That’s probably my most daily genre. I don’t listen to a lot of music daily, though. I listen to music probably a couple times a week when I’m in the car, but it’s so random, and the genres I listen to are pretty random. It depends on my mood. I think when I’m writing, it’s the same way, whether I’m writing a poppier or rock-based song. They’re different moods for me.

SILY: How do you generally approach juxtaposing lyrics with instrumentation?

IDS: With writing, it’s different every time the way they fall into place together. I do notice that one of the more common ways it happens is I’ll be going about my day and hear a melody in my head and start humming it and realize I’m making it up, that I have no record of it before. I’ll start attaching feeling to the melody, depending on what I’m feeling, and at first I’ll be singing gibberish with the melody, but I’ll usually get some headphones on and plug into the computer so I can sing into a microphone. I’ll mess around with the melody and sing random words until something true to me kind of sticks. That’s usually how it goes. Sometimes, I [do] sit down and it comes out in one breath, like the song is already written in my mind.

Honestly, it’s so normalized how songwriting is. It’s such a strange, magical thing that people can write songs that have never been written before. [laughs]

SILY: Thematically, there are a lot of songs on Any Shape You Take where you’re feeling doubts about a relationship, like on “Darker Than Death”. Someone’s feeling bad, and you’re wondering whether it’s you making them feel bad. And on “Die, Cry”, you sing, “I’d rather die than see you cry.” On the other hand, there are some songs like “Pretty Pictures” where you know your place more within the relationship, and you know what’s eventually gonna happen to it. How do you balance those feelings of doubt with knowing what’s gonna happen?

IDS: It’s funny, because the first two songs you mention were written a very long time ago when I was in the only very long-term relationship I’ve ever been in. I was very confused in that time and was having a hard time in general with my mental health. “Pretty Pictures” is the newest song on the album, a last minute addition because another song we had on there didn’t really fit. We looked through my demos folder and chose “Pretty Pictures”, the most recent song I had written at the time, and recorded it for the album. They’re totally different times in my life, and how you said it is definitely how I was. There’s a time I was more confused, and now, love is more simple in my life, and I can process things and see how they are, have compassion for different modalities.

SILY: I love the line on “Way Out”, “There are no monsters underneath your bed, and I’ll never be the only thing you love.” It’s a very logical statement in the face of unbridled emotion that can make you think illogically. Is that contrast something you think shows up throughout the record?

IDS: Within love, over time, I’ve realized that there’s not one person for anybody. There’s a lot of fluidity in the ways people can feel towards other people. That line is definitely a nod to allowing people to love many other people and not taking it personally.

SILY: From a singing perspective, you have a lot of different vocal stylings on the record. I found it interesting you led it off with a track where you’re super auto-tuned. Can you tell me about that decision?

IDS: “17” originally was this demo I made in 2016 or 2017. It was a very old demo. In 2018 or so, I brought the demo to my band at the time, and we created a live version of that song that was nothing like the recording that you hear. The recording was so weird and had a lot of auto-tune and higher-pitched and lower-pitched vocals. We had a live version we played for a while that’s on Audiotree. Whenever we were recording Any Shape You Take, we started to record it the live way and realized it wasn’t feeling right. We listened to the old demo, and it gave this wake up kick to everyone. We got excited by how the demo sounded because we hadn’t heard it in so long. We realized we wanted to record it based on the demo. So that song sounds very similar to the way the demo originally sounded.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album title?

IDS: There are so many layers to the album title. [laughs] It came to me mostly because the album takes so many musical shapes but also so many emotional shapes. It feels like a lot of the themes in the album are about change and acceptance of change and acceptance of a full spectrum of feelings of pain and grief and allowing people to take many forms. It was mainly inspired by the fact that I’ve taken so many forms in my life and am witness to the way changing forms yourself can either push people away or pull them in closer. I’ve always been so appreciative of the people in my life who allow me to take so many different forms and are still there to witness and care about me, whether we’re close to each other or far away. That’s the main reason I wanted to call the album Any Shape You Take. The most beautiful kind of love you can have is allowing someone to be themselves and shift in and out of things freely.

SILY: Is your live show faithful to the studio versions of the songs, or did you have to learn how to adapt the songs to the stage?

IDS: A lot of them sound very similar to the recording. We’ve been having so much fun practicing them and playing them live.

SILY: Is there one in particular you’re most looking forward to playing?

IDS: I love playing “Bad Dream”. That’s just a crazy song to play live because it’s so loud and rowdy. [laughs]

SILY: You have that falsetto in the middle of it, too.

IDS: Yeah. It’s so fun.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, reading, or watching lately that’s caught your attention?

IDS: I’m excited that one of my favorite authors, Tao Lin, just put out a book I haven’t been able to get fully into. It’s called Leave Society. I just got it in the mail last week. Other than that, I’ve just been so, so busy with interviews and work on the computer and with my manager, staying on top of this crazy shift happening on top of my life. I haven’t taken in a lot of media. I was just watching Love Island recently because I wanted to shut my brain down. Somebody was telling me about Sexy Beasts last night, which sounds insane. I’m excited to watch that.

[artificialqueens]

Pale Yellow, Prologue (Group Fic) - Candy Cane

A/N: i know i havent shut up abt this for the last forever on my side blog but its just bc ive been so excited lol this is a post-apocalypse/doomsday au & lesbian au wherein after the world ends, people still find each other. without @chaoticnachokitten id be totally lost bc this really needed a beta and some extra confidence thrown in and im so lucky u were there to help me out <3 thank youuuuuu!!! this is very focused on the cast of AS2 bc it sparks joy so bada bing bada boom here we are. u can follow my side blog @sillylittlecandycane where i post wip updates and get wayyy too invested in these aus!! this is the kind of fic that im still fleshing out, so if u have any suggestions for thing i may have missed id love to hear it! anyways sorry for the long a/n hope yall enjoy <3 Summary: Nearly seven years after the apocalypse, Alaska has been a part of a few different groups. None have been like this one, and she wouldn’t give it up for anything. Little does she know that change is on the horizon. 

It’s been years since Alaska could look at her friends and not immediately see them as just walking corpses. All of them are on a time limit, they’re only delaying the inevitable. No one can fix this. No one can change what has happened to their lives. Sometimes she doesn’t see the point in continuing forward. And sometimes she sees those small smiles Detox and Roxy share, sometimes she hears how carefree Tatianna will laugh at a joke, sometimes she catches her friends holding hands just because, and she knows they have to try. Even destroyed, their world still holds love and hope. Otherwise, no one would be around.

The gun in her hand is heavy and slick with sweat, her whole body is sore from walking in heels for way too many miles. Apparently the price of looking hot during the end of the world is pain, who would’ve thought?

Alaska looks over her shoulder at Katya and Phi Phi, the Russian is clearly lost in thought, while Phi Phi has her weapon poised to aim, even though she looks almost bored. Alaska almost feels bad for asking them to come with her, but there’s no way she would’ve been able to go out alone.

The whole group understands the importance of checking out supply houses, even if it looks like a longshot. Even if all they find is expired food packets and half-used emergency kits, it’s better than nothing. Sometimes they get really lucky and find crates upon crates of supplies. Weapons, ammo, medical products, food, even bottled water… It’s not often, but it happens.

Alaska breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the emergency clinic come up in her field of view. Soon they’d be home, and Alaska could kiss her girlfriends and put her feet up. She hates being away for so many hours, no matter how necessary it is.

“Let’s go,” Alaska says quickly, speeding up her pace, barely checking to see if her friends are following her lead.

The hot, spring’s day asphalt clacks beneath her heels, the sun beats down on her bare shoulders, and she breathes in the heavy, humid air. There’s a storm on the horizon for sure, she’ll have to ask Ginger to check the weather for the next week.

The cozy, two story emergency clinic that is both the best place in the world and an eternal prison looms before her. It’s the only safe place she’s been able to find and make work, but it represents how trapped they all are.

At least they’re not alone. At least they have each other. That’s what Alaska tells herself as she opens the heavy metal doors. Once upon a time they were glass, but glass doors aren’t great for defense, no matter how nice they look on the outside.

She steps into what was a trashed waiting room when she first found this place and is now a well-managed front room. The receptionists desk is where they keep all their communications equipment, and is also where she sees Ginger, the one who runs the equipment.

“You’re back,” Ginger says, a wide smile on her face that Katya can’t help returning, “Almost thought you’d be gone for good.”

“We weren’t gone that long,” Alaska frowns, letting the door close only when Katya and Phi Phi come through it.

“We were out there almost all day,” Phi Phi says, “Left at dawn, and now it’s almost sunset.”

Alaska sets her weapon down on the counter, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

She looks up to see Detox round the corner, and could almost cry with how happy she is to see her.

“Thought I heard you guys come back,” Detox smiles.

There’s a worry and fear in her eyes that Alaska wishes only a kiss could fix. There’s no way it would, but she can try. The two hug tightly, and Alaska kisses her for a long moment. It’s so good to be with her again, even with the missing presence of their third.

“I couldn’t stay away for too long,” Alaska teases her when they pull apart, “Where’s Roxy?”

“Training,” Detox sighs, “I was barely able to get her away for lunch.”

Alaska understands the need to always be prepared, it was drilled into her once this whole mess started. She still wishes they would all take better care of themselves though.

She looks over to see Katya talking closely with Ginger, and figures she’s probably just relaying what all happened. There’s a ‘ding!’ sound from the computer, and Ginger leans over to take a look. Alaska’s breath catches in her throat when she sees Ginger’s expression.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, almost scared of the answer.

“It’s… It’s Alyssa’s sister,” Ginger says, completely shocked, “Her group- They’ve got an extreme injury.”

“How extreme?” Katya asks, trying to look at the computer scene.

“Gunshot wound to the torso at the least,” Ginger says with a frown, “They want to bring her here.”

“Can we even help with that?” Detox grimaces.

“Coco saved me, didn’t she?” Alaska says, biting her lip nervously.

“Do we have room? Supplies? It’s been a while since then, Alaska-”

“Who else would be able to help? There’s no hospitals, no working clinics or doctor’s offices,” Alaska reminds her, on the way to making up her mind.

“We don’t even know this person, all we know is that Alyssa’s sister knows them,” Phi Phi points out.

“Alyssa’s sister knows them well enough to want to reach out to us,” Alaska corrects her, “During a fucking apocalypse.”

Katya turns and stares Alaska in the eyes, “So you want to help.”

It’s a statement, and not one that’s wrong either.

Alaska takes a deep breath, then turns to Phi Phi, “Tell Coco she’s going to have a patient,”

Even though she looks skeptical, Phi Phi ducks out of the room, and Alaska is left with three of her teammates staring at her with open mouths.

“Well? Get to work, we have company coming,” Alaska drawls, leaving no room for argument.

It’s a longshot, but they owe a lot to Alyssa, and Alaska wouldn’t be where she is today without the kindness of strangers. If she doesn’t ‘pay it forward’ now, she may never get the chance, and she thinks she would regret that for the rest of her life.