#my ensures and my cereal bars can take it now

[natandacat]

New incentive to procrastinate going to bed: pushing back the risk of waking up in a PEM

[milkweedman]

forcing myself to "eat protein" and "be responsible" after once again encountering a week long period of all my muscles hurt so bad and are so weak despite doing the same thing they always do assuming without checking that it was probably because im eating mostly coffee and plain untoasted bread in small quantities. and its not even a whey bread or 100% whole wheat, ive been trying to use up my bread flour/whole wheat blend (i dumped them in the bucket together, maybe on accident ? unclear) so its just that with whatever else i threw in. spent $6 on the only yogurt in the store that had at least 5 grams of protein per 1/4 cup, which is still very little, only to get home and finally google what the symptoms of protein deficiency are. they are not that. those are the symptoms of Who Fucking Knows, As Always

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 386

In an attempt to ensure I don’t get too hungry before dinner which results in poor eating choices either as a snack or the meal itself I decided I would preplan a snack time. I don’t have to take that snack time, but I should plan some sort of snack between lunch and dinner. 

The reason for this is simple, I want to make sure I don’t grab a sweet if I don’t really, really want it, and I want to make sure I don't suddenly decide to make more than I need for dinner. It also allows me to spread my meals out more. While I really should stop making dinner at 9 p.m. at night, I will certainly take a 7 p.m. cooking time because I don’t go to bed early.

And I don’t want to be hungry before bed, I want my dinner to be the last meal I have of the day.

Now if I’m at home, snack times are not that hard. I have individual portions of microwave popcorn, mixed nuts and cereal that has oats, dried fruit, seeds and nuts. No yogurt though because I ran out of the lactose free one.

I have a weird relationship with lactose at this point in my life. Ice cream is fine, too much straight milk or yogurt will make me feel queasy though. Full on sarcastic… getting old is fun.

But the problem occurred when I had to think about what I would do for work snacks. I had volunteered for the summer to be on site twice a week, so I needed to plan two snacks. I had sun chips, but I didn’t want to have sun chips for a second day. So I needed another snack.

That won’t make the staff room smell (no popcorn), no nuts (so no trail mix bars, cereal or mixed nuts), and preferably nothing that would count as a full-on sweet (no chocolate, no cupcakes, no cookies). 

Well…. It’s very hard to find a snack that wasn’t a meat jerky (because I just didn’t want that), that wasn't any of those things. I couldn’t pick a fruit, because I already have fruit as part of every meal I plan for. In large part because I still don’t eat enough vegetables despite adding veggies to 2 out of my 3 meals and making sure it’s the majority of my meal when I can. That being said, I wasn’t going to add a vegetable, because I knew I wasn’t going to eat the vegetable. 

So yea, I was scouring the grocery stores today looking for something that wasn’t a candy, cookie or chip, that had no nuts, wasn’t a fruit and wasn’t a vegetable and certainly not a meat jerky. I finally settled on oat bars that my mother found and hopefully I’ll like those.

But yea, the long-short of it is, it’s very hard to plan a meal and snack to take to work sometimes.

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

--

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

[kodzukoi]

You know I’m the fandom’s resident hurt/comfort slut.

I’ll start with Karasuno, lemme know if you want others. I’ll either go school by school or mix em up like a cocktail.

HEY GUYS THERES SOME TRIGGERS IN HERE! PTSD, Panic Attacks, Depression.

Fluffy hcs first:

Tanaka can BAKE Bro

He learned from Saeko obviously

World famous lemon bars and peanut butter squares

They’ve actually won competitions

Daichi is a doggo dad!!! I REPEAT!

He has a corgi named Mochi, and a pug named tofu.

Yes the third years bully him for his name choices, why do you ask?

Nekoma is Karasuno’s crutch, and vice versa.

These bbs will deadass go down swinging for each other. It doesn’t matter if they have a close bond with the player or not, they will defend them to the grave.

Hinata thinks toilet paper should face outward.

Kageyama completely agrees, but only disagrees to fuck with him

Same thing with cereal before milk.

Kageyama’s favorite drink isn’t milk!!! It’s warm chai!

When the team learned this, they always made sure to get the setter one whenever they were at a coffee shop.

Tsukki can play drums. That’s it. That’s the post.

SPEAKING OF MUSIC-

Behold my favorite Haikyuu headcannon.

Tadashi Yamaguchi can s i n g.

He takes lessons, practices all the time, is in concerts and showcases all over the place.

The second he musters the courage to talk about a song that he’s making good progress on, the team asked when his next concert was, because you bet your sweet ass they all simultaneously thought to go. Daichi didn’t even have to make it requirement.

Ennoshita is so fucking good at chess. Even Tsukki can’t beat him.

Noya collects keychains!!

He always asks his teammates to get him one whenever they travel.

Eventually, they all just did it by default to surprise him.

Suga introduced the team to meditation.

Asahi falls asleep most times

Noya and Hinata find it the least beneficial because they are awful at clearing their minds.

“Dude when I tried to clear my mind, I immediately thought ’do penguins have knees’?”

“I heard about four songs at the same time and could see through the eyes of someone making a painting.”

Speaking of Asahiiii :)

The team comes to him with uniform troubles!

He’s sewn loose ends, hemmed calf length shorts, tied off loose threads, repaired broken seams. Etc.

Kinoshita leads locker room: the musical at every single game.

It totally boosts the team’s morale and it’s like the dumbest songs ever

I mean like Take on Me, Bohemian Rhapsody, or Careless Whisperer, YES THEY MAKE THE SAXOPHONE NOISES WITH THEIR MOUTHS WHO DO YOU THINK THEY ARE??

Narita is a fucking s h a r k at board games.

Is the reigning champion of every single game. Every. Single. Game

Yachi likes to try and teach the boys how to use a camera.

It helps her share her passion for photography

And for the love of god some of these boys need another hobby.

The only ones who retain what she tells them are the third years and occasionally Tanaka.

Daichi takes KILLER photos dude.

Kiyoko, being the true girl boss she is, loves to surprise the team with treats every now and then.

She’ll bring homemade baked goods, little handmade goodie bags, or will buy the team pizza with her own money before they have a big game.

“Do your best!”

Good ol’ coach Ukai.

He’s ensured that he has crates upon crates of yogurt drinks, Gari-Gari Kun Popsicles and meat buns on every single delivery truck that comes to his store.

His boys make him so happy, why shouldn’t he return the favor?

Takeda takes music requests while he’s driving.

Sometimes the team will bump to banging oldies, courtesy of coach Ukai, throwbacks, courtesy of the third years, or well known songs, courtesy of Kinoshita, because he really really loves leading Karasuno: the musical.

Angsty hcs

Yamaguchi constantly considers quitting the team bc he’s insecure in his progression

Whenever this happens, Tanaka will bring him homemade peanut butter squares, watch Disney movies with him, and talk his ear off about how proud he is.

I like to think they have a lil bond. So like Yams will deadass just send him a sad face, their established code (courtesy of Tanaka), and the second year is already asking Saeko to pack him a bag as he leaps into the kitchen to make peanut butter squares.

“Code Pinch” is what they use, so their parents don’t know of their plans. But the second Tanaka frantically says those words, Saeko drops whatever activity she’s doing without hesitation.

Ennoshita regrets having formerly left the team, because he felt so bad for letting the team down in the past.

Tsukishima is super stoic, as we all know. The only people he confides in are Bokuto and Kuroo.

He knows Yamaguchi has many issues of his own, so he feels it’s unfair for him to dump more on him.

One night during their blocking training, Tsukishima was totally spaced out and the two noticed, so they took him into a little supply room.

They sat in a circle in silence, both resting a hand somewhere on his body (I would say kuroo on the knee, Bokuto on the shoulder), until he finally talked to them about what happened.

They def do a two man hug when beanpole started to cry. And like mans sobbed bc he hadn’t cried in like 10 years.

Bokuto would just sing to them super softly until Tsukki stops crying.

And it just so happened to be his favorite Disney song which only made him cry more

Narita and Kinoshita are called “side pieces” by other teams.

As soon as they got to nationals, someone from an unknown team made a snide comment to Tanaka along the lines of “try not to kill your captain again, buzz cut.”

This absolutely triggered a PTSD episode in Tanaka and flattened his mood.

Our resident bad boy deadass teared up at the thought of it happening to anyone else. (OUCH POOR BABY I LUB HIM SO MUCH WHY HURT HIM EVER)

While Daichi went straight to him to help him, the random dude was faced with two scary teams.

Karasuno, and Nekoma.

Kuroo glares straight into this man’s soul and-

“You say anything like that to him again, and there’ll be stumps where your feet should be. Got it?”

I deadass think that bc of the way they’re drawn that Nishinoya bites his nails.

It’s not even a nerves thing, or a bad habit, it’s a mental thing.

Something tells him he has to do it.

Is so insecure about it, and constantly wishes to wrap his fingers before matches.

Every time Kageyama lashes out at a teammate, he goes home and cries.

And Tsukishima’s snarky ass comments don’t help either

He doesn’t ever want to be king again

Sugawara goes through random depressive episodes.

Like the super bad ones where all you can do is lay in bed for a few days and can’t feel anything but static.

Does he have someone to help him? Most times it’s Daichi, who will just come over and be this mf’s servant.

He will carry Suga if he has to. Mans has to get up and eat, drink and pee.

He does it without hesitation though. He never complains.

When Daichi isn’t there, or he can’t even muster the strength/courage to tell his friend, he goes through it alone and tries his damndest to go through the cycle he does with Daichi.

Sometimes he does it, most times he fails. He only gets relief when Asahi notices he isn’t at practice and immediately races to his house after it’s over.

When Hinata’s adrenaline runs out on the bus, his panic disorder kicks in.

The kid is intimidated by height and power. Literally he has to have panic disorder

He has the type of panic attacks where he can only squeeze his eyes shut and choke as tears leak from his eyes.

He also vibrates really badly, which alerts whoever is sitting behind him about the attack. It’s usually Tsukishima and Yamaguchi.

When it happens, Tadashi taps Tsukishima lightly, getting the mid blocker’s attention. He then wordlessly points to Hinata with a sympathetic look.

Tsukki nods and does the same to Kageyama, minus the sympathetic look.

You can see the heartbreak in the setter’s eyes as he somberly nods. He wordlessly places a hand on Hinata’s knee, alerting his presence.

“I’m gonna hug you. I know you can’t reply, but if you don’t want me to, find a way to give me a sign.”

If he can’t stand being touched at that point, Hinata will viciously slap his thigh.

If he can, he doesn’t do anything and lets Kageyama wrap him up and pull him into his lap. He whispers sweet nothing into the bb’s ear.

“Listen to me. Listen to my heartbeat. It’s only us.”

If that doesn’t work, Kageyama holds up a peace sign behind him to alert the two in the seat that he needs help. The two immediately rise to their feet without hesitation or protest.

Tsukishima quiets down the bus entirely and tells the coaches, as Yamaguchi takes Hinata into his lap and sings You Are My Sunshine and A Spoonful off Sugar. (Okay fucking ouch that one hurt more than Tanaka’s.)

Asahi constantly wishes he had a partner, and thinks he doesn’t because he’s unlovable.

He deadass has a playlist called “lonely hearts club”. And one of the songs on there is Matchmaker from Fiddler on the Roof

Daichi is overwhelmed by everyone coming to him with issues, but he never lets it show.

His coaches are the only ones who check in with him

Absolutely in stitches when it happens, like bb is just so overwhelmed that he cries and cries. Ukai wraps him in a super tight hug as he continuously whispers to him that “it’s all okay.”

Coach Ukai? Yeah he’s in awful debt.

He won’t ever tell the team, or Takeda. He doesn’t want to owe more money, or be seen as incapable of surviving on his own.

Takeda gets burnt out very easily

Ukai actually takes some time to help him grade!!

They put on a calming playlist and work together.

Takeda handles the essay questions and Ukai takes the multiple choice, since he has no fucking idea what he’s looking at.

Yachi really wants to be an actress, but her anxiety completely fucks up her auditions.

Oh yeah the team 100% puts on little skits amongst themselves.

Oh yeah it’s 100% for her

Kiyoko is so afraid of graduating.

She’s worried that she’s going to lose herself without having a group of rambunctious boys to take care of.

She’s also scared she won’t be able to make the same bond with others that she did with the team and the coaches.

DUCKY, MA'AM, YOU REALLY LIVED UP TO YOUR POSITION I—

10/10. 10 out of motherhecking 10.

I THINK I LOST IT AT SUGA'S AND THEN I WAS FULL ON UGLY SOBBING AT KIYOKO'S

i'm going through the whole "shaking, crying" shebang rn...

oh my god ;-;

wait let me be more accurate

tears came at tanaka's

FELT NOYA'S ON A REALLY PERSONAL LEVEL T-T

KAGEYAMA'S WAS T-T

oh my lord

yeah after tanaka's, i definitely lost it ;-;

[caffeinated-cryptid]

patton and the no-good day

5.9k words | AO3 link | warnings: angst, alcohol, swearing, arguing, lashing out, minor injury, crying, fire, repetition.

“Patton wants to know what it’s like to make the right choices, so he tries...And tries. And tries and tries andtriesandtries-

(aka: a time loop fic where patton manages to revisit the day of svs, this time with the goal of making everyone happy. he quickly discovers that he's bitten off more than he can chew.)”

________________________________

Patton was unhappy. And he was unhappy because everyone else was unhappy. After the wedding, he had become so intimately aware of every mistake he had made. From Logan’s quiet dismissal when he tried to talk to him, to Virgil’s obvious avoidance of everyone, to Roman’s complete shutdown.

The only sides he could assume weren’t mad at him at the moment were Janus and Remus. And Remus was only a maybe, just based on how excited he’d been to hear that he had turned into a giant muscular frog alone.

Patton could only grimace upon recalling his breakdown. It was supposed to be the turning point for him, an indication of ‘Hey, I've come to realize that I’m deeply flawed but now I’m able to start fixing things!’. But of course, it didn’t turn out like that. Every day that passed only grew harder and harder with his mistakes staring him in the face. He was tired of waking up, dreading the insurmountable process of trying to make things right and failing, only to fall asleep and try again the next day.

It was like he was trapped in a loop of identical days, each one as ineffective as the last.

Patton could barely imagine the end of this tunnel, until one morning, he woke up and for once everything felt... different.

He ignored the feeling at first as got ready as usual, heading out towards the kitchen with the expectation of seeing empty chairs at empty tables once more. Except when he walked in this time, preparing to make a breakfast no one would eat, everyone was there already seated. It was just like how everything was before-- Janus and Remus were absent, but Logan, Virgil, Roman...all of the sides he considered his best friends were there, all togeher in one place for the first time in weeks.

He burst into tears on the spot and they collectively startled, immediately questioning what was wrong. It took a few minutes to convince them all that he was fine, that he just got emotional seeing them all because he loved them so much (which wasn't even a lie!), and in the end they accepted his explanation because sometimes that was just what Patton was like. As he sat down and tried to act as normal as possible, he couldn't help but stare at all of them, so carefree as they chatted and poked fun at each other. There wasn't a single furrowed brow, or a hidden frown, or a look of hurt. It was unfortunately because of that that he knew his gut feeling was right; there was something strange going on here.

Throughout the morning, Patton couldn’t put his finger on what was so familiar about this day until he felt a certain series of events occur: Thomas gets a call. He picks up the phone and talks with the casting agent for a famous director. He’s told that he got the callback for his audition and he’s terribly excited, so excited that his sides come out to celebrate with him and-

Oh. Oh! That was his cue, wasn’t it? Patton bit back a frown, rising up to share their excitement and then to remind them about the wedding that was scheduled for the same day. It was hauntingly familiar, seeing the way Thomas and Roman became dejected and knowing that this was only the start of an uphill battle.

And then Fauxgan came in- or rather Janus, disguised as Logan- and when Patton saw his new snakey friend, his chest swelled with excitement. This was his opportunity to change things! He knew that in the current script, Janus would soon reveal himself and begin pushing back against what Patton had said. So when that happened this time, he could simply agree and make it seem like he had been convinced to change his mind. That way, they could reach a different solution and everyone would be happy.  Simple!

Patton watched and waited patiently as the others made comments back and forth; Virgil and Janus snarking each other as Janus made his case to be listened to.

“That...can not be where the bar is!” Virgil protested in disbelief once Thomas agreed to hear him out, based on his vague 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend' ideal.

“Well, the bar for skipping an important opportunity should be higher than a...social engagement.” Janus replied distastefully.

This was where he originally jumped in to disagree. Patton saw Roman grow shifty out of the corner of his eye and knew: this was it!

“Maybe Janus is right! This is a huge opportunity. We should try to figure out a way to make both events if we can, but this means a lot for Thomas so we shouldn’t just skip it.“ Patton said confidently, even though the argument felt strange coming out of his mouth. At least he knew this time around he was making the right choice by backing down.

But the others only looked at him strangely, with varying degrees of confusion across their faces.

“Who’s Janice-”

“You’re agreeing with  him?! I knew you were acting weird-”

“How do you know my name-”

Patton’s eyes widened, realizing his subconscious mistake. He had gotten so used to referring to Deceit as Janus over the weeks that they’d been friends that his name just automatically slipped out. It was too late to take it back; the conversation was quickly derailed, with too many accusations coming out at once to even try geting back into the dilemma. At one point Janus wondered aloud if Remus had somehow gotten out and taken the form of Patton, which only raised more questions and ended with a sword pointed at his throat.

It was a disaster. They make the last-minute decision to go to the wedding out of spite for Janus and Patton.

________________________________

The next morning, Patton woke up with a start, looking around his room to find that it was exactly the way he had left it the day prior. Normally this wouldn’t be such a cause for alarm, but today it was because Patton was certain he had thrown a few things last night in childish frustration at himself for messing things up. Only soft items, because he couldn’t bear to accidentally destroy anything in his sentiment-filled room, but the fact remained that seeing his pillows lined up at the end of his bed again was a strange sign, one that had him suspicious about how this day was going to go.

To test his theory, he went down to the kitchen without bothering to change out of his pajamas, only to see the other three sides already sitting there in the exact same places as yesterday. He paused in the doorway, waiting for them to show recognition of the day prior-- for some kind of hostility or accusation. The only thing he received were snickers.

“Nice PJs, Pat.” Virgil smirked over his bowl of cereal before going back to scrolling on his phone.

Patton’s mind slowly processed this. It was as if the day had reset, back to the world he had woken up to yesterday. He sunk down into the last remaining chair and forced himself to make a joke about ‘having a PB&J sandwich to match this PJ day’, despite Logan’s protests that he would not be sharing the last jar of crofters (He always said this to deter them from eating his jam, but it was always a lie and he'd always let them have some in the end. Patton didn’t realize how much he missed that habit of his until he almost started crying again over Logan passing him the jam jar).

After a perfectly normal breakfast, he quickly returned back to his room to change and prepare for what was ahead of him. Now that he knew the day was definitely repeating and could recognise where he went wrong yesterday, he just needed to ensure he didn’t make such a silly mistake right off the bat again.

He went through the motions: Thomas getting a phone call, him reminding them of the wedding, and then the beginnings of debate.

“I agree with Deceit.” He said this time, smiling as he remembered to not use Janus’ name.

Despite his conscious effort, it doesn’t go over much better. Janus was surprised and suspicious of Patton’s sudden change of heart and Virgil immediately got on the defense. Once again, the argument quickly escalated.

“Why would you side with him?! He’s one of the others! You can’t trust him!” Virgil cried, hands tugging on his hoodie strings as he desperately tried to convince them. It was currently three against one. He must have felt cornered, having no one on his side, Patton realized belatedly.

“And how are you so sure of that?” Patton still responded back, feeling offended on behalf of his friend. He had promised himself he wouldn’t make things worse this time, but seeing Virgil get so angry at him hit a sore spot. As long as he was right about his theory, this day was already ruined the moment he sided with Janus, anyway.

“Because I was one of them!” Virgil yelled, and his expression quickly changed from frustrated to devastated to frightened. And then he sunk out, giving no one the chance to stop him.

The remaining sides stood in silence before Janus broke into hysterical laughter. Patton could hear it echo in his mind as the day reset for the third time.

________________________________

The next time, he didn’t bring up the wedding at all.

Patton didn’t want to kid himself; he was scared from seeing Virgil sink out so suddenly. After having Virgil’s anger directed at him twice and seeing him leave upset once, he figured that meant that outright siding with Janus was a risky thing to do if he wanted to make sure everyone was happy by the end of this.

So instead of trying to change his stance, he simply removed the confusing aspect out of the equation altogether and made sure no one remembered it or brought it up. This way for sure, he thought, everything would go a lot smoother.

...He was wrong.

Weeks passed after the phone call and everything was peaceful-- Patton didn’t experience any resets and he took this as a good sign, enjoying the time with his family which he had dearly been missing out on. The sides were excited for the opportunity, which only grew when the callback came and went and they aced it. It was like Patton had finally achieved the dream scenario, until one day later when Thomas summoned them with a horrified look on his face.

“I skipped Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding when I went to the callback.” Was all he said.

“...Huh? How is that possible?” Virgil asked, simultaneously looking like he was going to faint and/or run away. “That couldn’t have been yesterday, could it? I mean, the odds of that…”

“It was. However…” Logan spoke up, and everyone watched as he summoned his calendar, wearing baffled expressions when he pointed to yesterday’s date-- revealing that the wedding had never been written down at all. Thomas had somehow pushed it completely out of his mind.

“But...it was for a big opportunity! Surely they’ll understand if you explain why you had to miss the wedding.” Roman argued, glancing around at the panicking sides.

“That’s the thing, they’re upset that I didn’t tell them about it beforehand and they think I blew them off on purpose. Now all of our mutual friends think I only care about myself.” Thomas stressfully looked down at his phone as he got another text message- and not a very kindly-worded one at that. “I don’t know what to do to fix this!”

Patton paled. Surely that couldn’t be right. Could things really have gotten this bad, just because he hadn’t reminded them of the wedding?

“It looks like Thomas has become a social pariah.” A smooth voice cut in. “And I’m sure you all know who’s to blame.”

No-

________________________________

The next time, Patton woke up in tears, unable to get the image of Janus turning against him out of his mind.

This time he doesn’t try to avoid the debate. Debates were crucial; they were how they got through most of their problems! In retrospect it was silly to try and skip that part of the day altogether, but at least now he had a clearer idea of what to try next. The issue from the last attempt was that Lee and Mary Lee weren’t spoken to, so this time he’d back Roman up when he suggested communication.

When they were next able to arrange a meeting to talk, Thomas explained the situation to the couple; how he had gotten a last-minute once in a lifetime offer. They were excited for him and encouraged him to take the opportunity, but Patton saw it in their eyes, how they gave Thomas sad smiles and looked at each other with disappointment.

He panicked, and Thomas changed his tune, pretending to check his phone and coming to the ‘realization’ that he got the time wrong, that he could go after all.

Lee and Mary Lee were thrilled.

But the others hated him for it.

________________________________

The next time for sure, he thought he’d get the courage to do it right.

They talked to Lee and Mary Lee. Thomas explains the situation, and this time Patton doesn’t make him change his mind. They’re disappointed, but despite knowing this deep down Thomas stays firm and decides to go to callback anyway.

During the lead-up to the 13th of April, Roman keeps looking to him for guidance, asking if this was really alright. Patton tries to assure him, but even he doesn’t know. He feels like everything he’s doing is putting them on the right track, but after thinking he was doing the right thing and being wrong several times, he isn’t able to say for certain that they were making a good choice. Especially not with the unknown variable of Lee and Mary Lee's disappointment thrown into the mix.

Eventually Roman learns to stop coming to him with his fears, and when it comes to the callback he chokes during the performance. Thomas messes up and someone else gets the role.

They don’t get to go to the wedding or win the callback.

Roman ducks out the same day and Remus takes his place.

________________________________

The next time, Patton was overly aware of his lack of certainty. He hadn’t realized how close Roman had been to falling over the edge, so during his next attempt he can't help but keep it fresh in his mind.

Throughout the debate he makes sure to agree with the creative side. He didn’t oppose any of his arguments or call him out where he originally thought he was being selfish; he’s as kind and gentle as can be, haunted by what had happened one cycle ago.

It makes Janus upset. He knows Patton’s true stance and can’t understand why he’s silencing his voice so much for one side alone. He ends up pointing out how Patton is being underhanded by trying to use flattery to get things to go his way and then mentions how that must be how he's managed to keep everyone under his thumb for so long. Patton sees red.

It’s nice to get his steadily building frustration out. Perhaps Janus is an undeserving target of his anger, but the criticism just hit too close to home for him to accept lying down. He didn't want to be a manipulative person. He had been trying so hard to let others have their voices be heard and not seize control the narrative too much, but in the end wasn't that what he was doing now? Trying to manipulate everything, even if his motives were good? The realization had blood pumping in his ears, drowning out everything but his own voice.

Everyone becomes tense when he starts yelling and Janus only stares in shock, confused and oddly enough, hurt to be the focus of the usually happy pappy's wrath. Patton yells until his throat is hoarse, and then some more because he knows he can't damage his vocal chords here. He does it for Logan, who had been pushed aside almost every time they've done this. For Virgil, who had so many doubts and fears and was too afraid to share them until they become too much. For Roman, who was the most likely to get crushed whatever they did. For Janus, who was just trying to get a seat at the table. For Remus, who potentially never would.

For himself, who just couldn't get this right.

When he's done the room is so silent that they would have been able to hear a pin drop and he feels a weight off his chest. He's made his point, loud and clear.

Even though the others have no idea what he’s talking about.

________________________________

The next time, Patton wakes up feeling guilty for losing his temper, despite how cathartic it had been to let loose a little bit. He can’t look the others in the eye when he goes to breakfast, and instead spends the whole time in his head, trying to figure out what to try next.

This time he decides to soften his voice. He already knows it’s a mistake based on prior experience, but he doesn’t know what else to do-- doesn’t have the time to consider any other approach to take before Thomas is getting that phone call once again.

Throughout the debate, his statements fall short. He lacks conviction. He subtly tries to side with Janus and Roman, but not to the extent where it makes Virgil upset, and it only makes him look flakey. He’s flimsy; uncertain, and everyone can tell. He can practically feel Logan’s desperation to take his place from the back row.

In the end, Thomas is convinced that he’s a completely horrible and selfish person due to Patton’s lack of assertion otherwise and avoids both events out of a self-induced spiral of guilt and anxiety.

________________________________

The next time Patton is too firm. He keeps assuring Thomas that he’s not a bad person, and realizes too late that he fell back into his old habits.

Roman sentences them to the wedding again.

Patton summons a pillow to scream into in frustration.

________________________________

By the 50th loop, Patton had more or less given up. He starts the day by rolling out of bed and popping open the cork of a wine bottle right into his face. It’s in the moment he starts feeling a black eye form that he makes the formal decision: fuck it.

He skips breakfast to sip wine through a silly straw (because casual alcoholism doesn’t count when you make it fun. Or when you’re stuck in a figurative nightmare), and he changes into the most ‘dad on vacation’ clothes he owned; a gaudy hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. He forgoes shoes because decidedly this isn’t a shoes kind of day, and after 50 god-forsaken attempts at trying to get this right, he thinks he’s earned a little self-indulgence.

When the time rolls around to start the video, he belatedly rises up in the living room tispy and wearing his old 2015 new years novelty sunglasses. The others are immediately taken aback at his appearance while Thomas grimaces.

“Ah… So that’s why I’ve been thinking about cursing people out all day.”

“You should. It’d be funny.” Patton giggles.

“...Okay.” Virgil states, likely finding his behaviour too familiar for comfort. “What the fuck."

Janus doesn’t join them this time around; instead the real Logan shows up because suddenly everything had switched courses into a completely different problem. The four of them try to figure out what’s wrong with Patton, and he refuses to cooperate the entire time, just for the heck of it. Eventually he grows bored of watching them fuss and squabble, so he starts saying the first things to come to mind, the deepest opinions that were buried under all of his repression-- things he wouldn’t dare say if he were sober and free from this hell.

“I hate all of you sometimes.” He announces over their discussion without guilt, too far gone to care how hurt the faces that looked back at him were. He knew it wasn’t real anyway, at least it wouldn’t be when the next loop started.

“I hate how I can apologize forever and it’s still not enough. I hate how I have to accept the mistakes made against me, but you all get to sulk for weeks and not even let me try to make things right. When all I’ve ever wanted is to make you happy.”

“Patton-” Logan begins hesitantly. He looks like he wants to contradict him and Patton doesn't care for it.

“Stupid of me, right Logan?” He cuts him off with a laugh, dry and completely unlike himself. Logan closes his mouth, regret flashing across his face, and it just felt so good in that moment to be the bitter one for once. He’s never done it before; always having to take the high road while everyone else chose to be petty and self-absorbed in their own egos. No fault to them for that; he felt pretty amazing right now, going against the moral code he had built and adhered to for so long. It felt forbidden and like the sort of thing he’d regret later. (And heck, with all the mistakes he’d been accidentally making, perhaps doing something wrong on purpose was like taking that power back.)

“I’m doing all of this- going through this day again and again- for what?” He continues, glaring at them individually. “I’m doing my best here- just to make everything alright again, and- fuck.”

Patton ignores the shocked expression he gets when he swears. He’s getting too close to feeling bad again, so he summons another bottle of wine. He learns from his mistake and points it away from himself this time, and the cork doesn’t hit him in the face; instead it smashes into the tv screen. Roman and Virgil yelp. Thomas stares.

“...Patton, what are you talking about?” Thomas asks.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Patton giggles again after taking a long swig, sliding back against the blinds until he's on the floor. Away from the cameras, at last. “None of you will remember this anyway.”

And they don’t. (They never do)

________________________________

The next time, he wakes up without a black eye or a hangover and considers not leaving his bed today. He does anyway, just to make sure he hadn’t done something irreversible and ruined everything for real this time.

He goes to the kitchen to find everyone sitting like they always do, in the exact same positions at the exact same time with the exact same food, without fail. They acknowledge him the same way they always do as he enters the room and he can’t help but grind his teeth when it feels like mocking. So he walks over to the cupboard and starts pulling out plates to smash against the ground.

They’re surprised, worried, taken aback, and as he stands in a sea of broken china he doesn’t care about what they have to think about him. He already knows nothing he does right now will have later consequences, even if it means cutting up his feet like an idiot.

He’ll just have to do better next time.

________________________________

He doesn’t do better. Instead, he gives into the urge to stay in bed all day. No one comes for him and the discussion happens without him, which he knows because he resists the summons to go testify.

Maybe Logan got to be the lawyer this time. That’d be nice, he supposes. ________________________________

The next time he sets fire to his room, just to see what it would feel like to see everything he cares for burn.

(It doesn't feel much like anything, because he already knows it'll be back the next day. He hates it in unspeakable amounts when he's proven right.)

________________________________

The next, he goes over to the other half of the mindscape and steals Janus’ hat, feeling a bit more carefree as the side pursues him around the mindscape and the rest of the day is derailed.

________________________________

The next, he tries to make a cake to celebrate the callback and accidentally burns it. He feels like there's some sort of cosmic irony there.

________________________________

The next, he does nothing but make puns until the others cry in frustration.

________________________________

Next, he goes to the other half of the mindscape again and hangs out with Remus all day, just to check up on him after not seeing him since he took Roman’s place that one time.

Remus tries to attack him several times but Patton is past the point of being afraid of him. At one point he catches the shuriken Remus throws at his head and he finally manages to earn his favour.

They end up having a good time, talking until everything resets again.

________________________________

Next, he kisses everyone on the cheek and apologizes for getting drunk and being mean to them.

(Despite them being reseted versions of themselves and therefore not remembering any of it. He still does it anyway and it still makes him feel slightly better afterwards).

________________________________

Next, he finds the energy to make a genuine effort once again.

This time Logan ducks out. Patton spends the next few loops in mourning.

________________________________

By around the 75th loop, he’s finally had enough. There’s no more fun to be had messing around with these constantly-reseting sides, and he’s so so tired of trying to keep the peace and failing. Nothing he does was working-- in fact it seemed like he was just making things worse based on the amount of times one of the sides had broken down in front of them or tried to duck out or left with undealt with emotions. (There were so many things he had seen that would stick with him for a while, wondering just how close they were to having something similar happen in reality. He couldn't even rest anymore, kept awake by the questions.)

If he were a different side, one more accustomed to problem solving, perhaps he would’ve had a solution by now, but he just doesn’t. It's not how he was meant to operate. So instead of trying to figure it out, he goes to Virgil’s room after breakfast and starts blubbering in front of him until he’s led onto his bed where he's awkwardly consoled.

Virgil, without even knowing why he’s upset, places a comforting hand on his back anyway which sends Patton into even greater sobs. It had been so long since he'd let someone hug him or show him affection- so upset with himself for his failings that he stopped believing that he deserved any of it. This time he just lets it happen because he needs some comfort and if he doesn't get it he doesn't know how he'll be able to continue forward.

The two of them end up moving to a more neutral part of the mindscape as to not make his feelings worse, and he allows himself to indulge in just being held. He's aware of exactly how long they have until the start of the debate, so he milks his time with Virgil for all he's got, until eventually his crying evens out into sniffles, leaving him with tired eyes and a runny nose.

He knows Virgil wants to ask what’s wrong, but he breaks the silence first when he finally manages to calm down.

“Do you know how to get out of a loop?”

He can’t see Virgil’s face from where they’re hugging, but he can tell that he’s at odds with the question.

“You’re asking me, the MVP of spiralling, how to get out of a loop?” Virgil asked unbelievingly.

“Yeah, you’re right- It was stupid.” Patton begins, pulling away before Virgil stops him.

“I didn’t say that.” He says quickly, worriedly. Then he goes quiet in deliberate thought. “...You have to rely on the people around you to get out of it, I guess.”

When Patton makes a questioning noise, he continues.

“I mean… Sometimes it’s all you can do, y’know? You’re always gonna be biased when you’re living in your own head, and if you’re struggling to get through something yourself... the best thing to do is ask for help. Get a different viewpoint.”

"Sounds scary." Patton laughs wetly. Virgil joins him, sounding relieved.

"Yeah. It's definitely not as easy as it sounds. Being vunerable and reaching out to people, that is."

"...How do you manage?"

"Well..." Virgil pulls back a little. "I don't always. But you just have to trust that it'll be worth it in the end. And it usually is."

After a moment of thinking that over, Patton draws back fully and stares at him. Virgil meets his eyes with barely-veiled worry as he continues. “So… If you’re dealing with something, you can always tell us. You should know by now that you don't have to deal with everything alone, popstar.”

Patton can't meet his gaze any longer when his eyes heat up once more. "...I just want to be there for all of you," He finally admits in a small voice. "It's my one goal, and I feel like I only let you down. I can't expect you to carry my problems with you, on top of that."

Virgil's frown deepens. "It's not us carrying a burden for you, Pat. It's sharing the load equally so you don't fall under the pressure." His hand found Patton's back again, rubbing small circles. "If you feel like you have to be the one to fix everything all the time, then maybe we failed you as friends."

Once again, the dam broke, and Patton sincerely did not know what to say to that. Virgil pulled him back to his side, letting Patton rest his head on his shoulder as he let out his second round of tears for the day. They were spending too much time talking about his issues, he realized as the video started once more, but Virgil didn't make any move to leave his side, and for the nth time that day, he was incredibly greatful to him.

Something about their conversation clicked in his brain, and it was like he knew exactly what he needed to do. When he was finally ready to let go of this day, he gave Virgil one last hug and thanked him for his advice. He then sunk out back to his room and fell into bed, waiting for the cycle to start over again.

Perhaps he had known all along what he would have to do to end this, and Virgil had given him the final shove.

Either way, he so was ready for it to be over.

________________________________

On the final loop, Patton decided to follow Virgil’s advice.

He goes back to acting as normal-- eating breakfast, getting the call, rising up, reminding them about the wedding-- and this time he doesn’t do anything especially different.

Unlike his previous attempts where he tried to change his tune, tried to see through every possibility, tried to stop arguments before they started; he instead tries to do everything the same way the original debate had gone, to be the best of his memory.

He didn’t falter when he said things he now knew to be insensitive, he didn’t hold back on disagreeing with the others, or insert himself into problems that weren’t his to help with yet. He watched as the cracks formed between each side, watched the gavel swing down, watched every other side sink out after shooing Janus away.

And he knew it would be just fine.

He looked into Thomas’ eyes and felt nothing but pride. Just like the real thing, this one looked uncertain, but was briefly relieved by the conclusion they came to, putting his trust in Patton as he reassured him in his decision. He knew that by choosing this route he was accepting the heartbreak that would come later, but he accepted that. He understood now that hiding in fantasies of getting everything perfect was counterproductive and unrealistic. He knew it was time to go back.

As he sunk out to his room for the final time, he realized that if this exercise taught him anything, it was that above making the right choices, above having the right things to say to fix everyone’s problems, all he needed, all along…

Was patience.

________________________________

Patton opened his eyes to the sight of dim spotlights overhead. With a loud dad grunt he was glad no one else was around to hear, he rolled over to sit on the edge of the stage, looking out to the seat in the crowd he had once been impersonated at.

He took in the room once last time before the lights continued to dim, which he instinctually knew to be the mind’s way of telling him to leave. He was ready for it; so he did.

Hopping off of the stage, he walked between the aisles towards the exit, pushing the doors open to be greeted with the familiar space of the mindscape. He stood there for a second, letting his eyes adjust from the darkness of the theatre as his memory slowly returned to him-- compressing the months he had just gone through until he could remember why he had come here in the first place.

“So.” He heard a familiar voice come from next to him as he regained his bearings. “Are you satisfied with what you found?”

“...Yeah.” Patton said softly, turning to smile at the figure.

“And?”

“I didn’t need to change anything in the end.”

There was a sharp exhale, barely a scoff. “Well, I could’ve told you that, and it would’ve saved you a lot of hassle.”

“You could have.” Patton agreed. “...But it was helpful seeing all the way things could have been different, too.”

His eyes fell to the ground, recalling the different outcomes that were wildly different and much much worse than their current situation. It made him grateful for the way everything had turned out-- imperfect but not broken-- and made everything seem so much less bleak than how he first thought it to be. When he was so lost that he had chosen to relive that day for the sake of getting peace.

“Oh? And what exactly happened in there?”

“A lot. One time I stole your hat. You got so mad that you started hissing.” Patton’s smile widened at one of the better memories, even more so when his friend grumbled.

“Wow. I’m so glad the hour I spent out here waiting was used productively.” Janus sighed, pulling his hat down subconsciously. “...I am glad that it helped, though.”

“I am too.” Patton hummed. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Janus finally returned his smile and Patton brightened up. They weren't yet confident that they could fix everything that had happened between the sides, they didn’t even know if it was possible for them to do so alone, but they were at least willing to take that step forward and offer a helping hand.

And that's all that matters, right? No matter how many times they were let down or faced an obstacle, they just kept getting up to try to be better. It didn't matter if things weren't alright again right away; sometimes earning forgiveness meant trusting the other person to come back to you eventually. Waiting for that opportunity to glue back the pieces together.

And if Patton was certain about anything, it was that he was more than prepared to wait.

________________________________

Tags: @nasatshirts @quinnthequeer @mayflowers07 @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @foxxsong @omnicrex @nadiestar @mistythegirlfluxmess @greenninjagal-blog @hit-or-mish @slytherin-halfblood @i-need-a-life-8903 @lemonlinelights @logicaemetus @bluestarfan10 @marshmallow-fluffy @enby-phoenix @arrestjellyfish @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @impatentpending @killjoy-3000 @nonasficcollection @mhep24601 @atomic-cat-dragon @puffydove @qrowdraws-notforyouthough @randommuffinyt @bubblycricket @theactual-devil @viana-dascolli @modsnow

[prepperjournal]

Building Your Survival Food Pantry

When I was a child, we had a bomb shelter. My parents didn’t build it – it was there when they bought the house. But they did stock it with what they believed to be the most important survival items, should we ever get “hit.” I remember several battery-operated items – radio, flashlights, and such – and of course, clothing and bedding in a trunk. But then there were the food and drink items - our survival food pantry. There were all sorts of canned goods, of course, and large bottles of water (only glass in those days). Foods that normally came in boxes (e.g., cereal and powdered milk) were put into glass jars. Times have changed. Now that we have plastic and bagged items with long shelf lives, bomb shelter food would look very different today (except for the powdered milk, I suppose, which I always hated). And there are plenty of ways to keep food items water-proof. A nuclear event is not the only disaster for which we need to be prepared these days. Earthquakes, fires, floods, hurricanes, and tornadoes are all on the rise, as well as real threats from people both within and outside our country. Then there are blizzards, pandemics, and long-term power outages as we recently saw in Texas. And the Boy Scout motto of “Be Prepared” should still guide our preparedness. So, let’s take a look at what a survival food pantry should look like today. Whether we face a short-term or long-term disaster, it is best to plan for a long-term food and water shortage at the onset. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9J31WXxAEwY Survival Food Pantry Basics – The List - Water: It’s the “rules of threes” here. You can survive three minutes without oxygen, 3 days without water, and three months without food. If you are breathing, then water is the next priority. If you are planning a pantry for “bug-in” survival, you will want between ½ - 1 gallon of water per day, per person. This also presupposes that, if you have a means of cooking, you may use some water. And there is personal hygiene to think of too. In short, water must be your top priority. If the public water supply is disrupted, then any tap water will have to be purified once that supply is restored. A few drops of household bleach per gallon will do the trick and save you from the necessity of boiling if your power is out. If you are thinking in terms of a “bug-out” survival, water will be too heavy to carry. What you want instead is a water collection device and filters. And, if you have access to wood and bring matches, boiling water is always an option here. FIFO Can Tracker | Stores 54 cans | Rotates First in First Out | Canned Goods Organizer for Cupboard, Pantry and Cabinet | Food Storage | Organize Your Kitchen | Made in USA - Organize Your Food Pantry - Our patent designed FIFO Can Tracker keeps your kitchen organized by storing and rotating your canned goods on a First In First Out model saving you from expired food cost and waste! Designed to store cans from 4 to 15 ounces. Perfect for diced chili cans, soup cans or standard vegetable cans. Holds up to 54 cans. Perfect to organize your food storage. - Sturdy Design - Made in the USA, this product is built to last and will be a permanent solution to your kitchen organization problem. Easily connect multiple units together to expand your storage. - Easy Installation - Put together in just minutes following a simple 4 step process. - Fits on Existing Shelves - Product dimensions are 12" H x 16" W x 16" D allowing you to organize your pantry, cabinet and cupboard. - 100% Customer Satisfaction Guarantee - If you are not satisfied with your purchase and feel this product has not solved your pantry organization problem simply return for a full refund. $38.99 Buy on Amazon - Canned Goods: These are absolute staples if you are sheltered in place in your home. And they will provide a variety of foods so that you don’t face “food boredom.” Think in terms of canned meats, beans (a great source of protein), fish, fruits, and veggies. Variety is the key here so that you and your family members have choices. And these can be eaten without cooking. After all, your instant pot may not be an option right now. Canned soups are a great option if you buy those that are not concentrated. They can be eaten right out of the can without the need for water or cooking. Ensure you have a good rotation plan also. - Food in Jars: Here’s where the advent of plastic comes in. There’s a huge list of food and drink that now comes in plastic jars that prevent breakage and are less in weight. Think peanut butter and jelly; think bottled juices; think fruits. They, too, have long shelf lives and can provide a good variety. - Snacks: Snacks can provide a bit of a respite from the boredom that comes from lack of electricity and Wi-Fi. Crackers and chips come boxed and bagged. If humidity is an issue, then it can be stored in plastic bags. They have a long shelf-life and will not have to be “changed out” too often.  Dips are obviously out to “dress up” these items, but there are freeze-dried meats that will do, as well as peanut butter. If you can’t cook popcorn is out, but nuts are not. Stock up on a good variety. - Dried Foods: These were not around when I was a kid, but just go through any grocery store and look at all the possibilities. There are dried fruits and meats galore – everything from jerkies to fruit leather, to banana chips. Stock up on plenty of these – lightweight and nutritious. - Granola Bars: I put these in a separate category because they are a source of almost every nutrient we need – protein, carbs, a bit of fat, and even that need for something sweet. If you should have to “bug out,” they are lightweight, have a long shelf life, and can provide the energy you will need. Look for those that are high in protein – this provides long-term energy, while carbs and sugars are only for the short-term. - About that Powdered Milk: Fortunately, powdered milk now comes in cans, as opposed to those traditional boxes. You do not have to take measures to protect it from water damage. When reconstituted with water, it can be used on cereal and for cooking (e.g., mashed potatoes) if you have an alternative cooking method during power outages. If you have children who cannot tolerate the taste, then have a supply of canned chocolate or strawberry syrup to “sweeten the deal.” - Pasta, Rice, Noodles: These can be temporarily filling because of their carb content. But here’s the thing: they must be cooked, and that will require using your supply of water. If you are sheltered in place with your public water supply still available, then all is good. You can cook these up as much as you wish. But if your water supply is cut off, or you have to use alternative methods for cooking, these are probably not good options. Still, put them in your pantry on the chance that they can be prepared. - The Debate About Couscous: Yes, this is a type of pasta, made from small grains of a specific type of wheat flour. The beauty of it is that it is steamed rather than boiled and takes far less water to cook. Unlike traditional pasta, couscous cooks in about two minutes. On the other hand, it is extremely high in gluten. So, if you have family members with gluten sensitivity, it is not an option. Planning for Long-Term Survival in Place As mentioned above, your food pantry should be planned for long-term survival, even if an immediate event is only short-term. Our goal for long-term survival in place is to have those food items that: - Provide solid nutrition - Can be prepared using as little fuel and water as possible - Will be “damage-proof” - Are as compact as possible - Have a variety of flavors and consistencies, so that “food boredom” doesn’t set in Here are some things to think about as you stock that survival food pantry: - Avoid dried beans. While they are a great source of protein, they take lots of water and fuel to cook. Items like navy beans and great northern beans now come in cans. Opt for that alternative. - Water is still the highest priority. Have ½ - 1 gallon per person per day for about a month. Beyond that, you will need a water-collection device/process and water filters to purify that water. - Rely on canned goods as much as possible, but remember they have lots of sodium and sugar, so are not as healthy as other options. - Freeze-dried fruits and veggies are a must. They don’t take up much space, and they are sources of essential nutrients and antioxidants. They are also important to keep your intestinal functions operating properly. You will get the right amounts of vitamins and minerals through these freeze-dried items. - Honey has no shelf-life. It can last forever. Have lots of it to use as a sweetener, and it does come in plastic containers. - Instant oatmeal packets. Place these in plastic bags to preen water damage. They are reconstituted with a small amount of water and heat. Use honey for sweeteners. While sugar lasts forever too, it does not have the health benefits of honey and is susceptible to humidity. - A variety of oils can add “spice” and flavor to foods. And most come in plastic containers now. If you can cook, use them liberally. They are caloric heavy and can provide energy as well as better taste. - Ramen: This is a common survival food for college students on tight budgets, but there are survival benefits too. They are good sources of carbs and take only a small amount of water to cook. - Freeze-dried and dried meats: these can last over a year. - Canned tuna in oil: perfect source of protein and Omega-3. - Granola and protein bars: Perfect for snacks and well-rounded nutrition. One Keynote here: make certain that all foods that are packaged in boxes or paper-type containers are stored in water-proof packaging, such as mylar bags that are vacuum-sealed. If You have to bug out When you have to evacuate, you face unique challenges. Of course, you cannot drag jugs of water and canned goods in backpacks. A wheeled cart is certainly a short-term solution, but it will not house everything you may need for a long-term bug-out situation. Your options are limited, so focus on these items: - A water collection device and filters - Survival Matches - Flashlights with new batteries or headlamps - Fully lightweight nutrition bars and other freeze-dried items You Can do This... Planning ahead is the best scenario for survival. Water and food are key factors in that planning. Make a list of items for both short and long-term survival, get to your grocery store and other retailers with the right supplies and equipment. You can be prepared for any disaster, and that brings a lot of peace of mind. Author’s bio. Jessica Fender is a professional writer and educational blogger. Jessica enjoys sharing her ideas to make writing and learning fun. You can check her last review here. Read the full article

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 2

The Meaning of Home Chapter 2

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

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Pawel spends much of Monday lounging around the house. He gets up to help get Conor and Emma on the bus, so his dad can leave on time for work. After meeting the bus in his pajamas, he walks back to Dad’s house and lies down on the couch. He doesn’t really need a blanket, but he pulls it up to his nose anyway for the comfort factor and spends the day dozing and streaming old movies on his dad’s TV.

He never makes it as far as thinking about cooking anything for dinner, so he treats Dad and Conor to a night out. It eats up more time than he’d like, and it means Conor needs to scramble to finish the last of his homework once they’re home, but it’s nice to spend an hour letting someone else do the cooking.

Later that evening, after Conor goes to bed, Pawel and Dad spend the next couple of hours finally talking through everything that’s happened. Pawel doesn’t want to leave things out, but there are a few things he avoids for Dad’s safety, like the government involvement, and one thing he just doesn’t know how to explain.

He hasn’t seen Chelsea in a while. She’s relearning how to work within the world without draining souls to stay alive. He highly doubts she’s planning on stopping by his father’s for a visit, and even if she did, Dad never got to meet her as anything other than one of Pawel’s friends a decade ago.

Yeah. That is a complicated mess that he has no desire to go into detail about.

They go to bed late, but Pawel still wakes early on Tuesday to get his own kid on the bus. He figures it’s the least he can do, letting Dad get to work on time on a regular basis again.

Alone in the house again, Pawel feels refreshed and awake.

And bored.

He puts the phone on speaker as he putters around the kitchen, pressing to dial the number for Pels. She picks up after two rings, her voice gravelly and low. “What? Did we burn your house down?”

“I’m assuming you would have called me, rather than the other way around, if you burned my house down. Since you’re the one staying there.” Pawel rifles through his father’s cabinets until he finds a slow cooker. It’s dusty, but he’s pretty sure it’ll be functional. There should be enough ingredients for chili around. 

He looks into a cabinet, and nearly bare shelves stare back at him.

Okay, maybe not.

“What?” Pels asks again. “You woke me up. Are you looking for my mom? I thought you had her number.”

Pawel finds tomatoes and beans, and starts emptying them into the slow cooker. “I do. I thought she’d be at work, so I called you instead.”

“It’s too early and—Dad, Dad, no, I’ll talk to him. Give me back my phone.”

“Hello, Ammon.” Pawel might not be able to hear Pels’s father, but he’s well aware by now that the ghost can hear him.

“He’s leaving, and I’m not putting this on speaker,” Pels mutters. “I thought he was going to start spending more time with Mom now, after the whole unbinding ceremony last weekend, but apparently she told him not to follow her to work.”

“Can she see him now?” That would be an interesting development. Pawel sets the empty can on the counter and reaches for a pad of sticky notes so he can scribble a reminder to himself to look into more detailed information about the ritual that the Burlington community performed for Pels and her mother in order to remove the bindings from their Talents.

“I think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure she can, but we’re not really talking about it. But seriously. Did you call for a reason? Cheyenne’s got these final projects to finish up since she left school a couple weeks early, so she’s not bothering me. Dad wasn’t bothering me. I was sleeping.” Pels grumbles under her breath.

“I just wanted to see how things were going.” Pawel peels off the sticky note and tapes it to the fridge, where he might see it later. Another search of the cabinets turns up chili powder and a few other seasonings. “Now that you’ve had a chance to settle into the house.”

“We’re fine. We’re figuring out how to be a family again without Peter.” Pels hesitates. “I’m learning how to see the world a whole different way now that I can see everything my Talent lets me see. Shane and Jess and I are talking a lot, and I’m going to figure this Mage thing out. So… thanks. For everything. Including letting us stay in your house while you’re gone.”

Pawel shakes some cocoa powder into the slow cooker, before adding a handful of dried onion. “Someone’s got to water the plants.”

“The plants were already dead when we got here.”

He laughs at Pels’s dry words. She’s not wrong. Pawel was gone for a month; everything went to hell, while his son went to stay with his dad.

Which, yeah. That brings him right back around to where he is now.

Pawel stares at the slow cooker. “If you need anything, you’ve got my number.”

“I’ll tell Mom to check in with you periodically. Oh and—” Pels hesitates before asking, “Cheyenne wants to know if it’s okay if she uses your backyard to practice flying?”

Pawel thinks of the time they used Alaric’s dragon to summon a Shadow in that same backyard. “That would not be the strangest thing the neighbors could have witnessed. But she should try not to break anything, including herself.”

“I think we can do that. Gotta go. Dad says there’s someone at the door.”

The line goes abruptly silent, and Pawel looks down at the screen of his phone as the connection is lost. “Okay, then.” He gives the vegetarian chili a quick stir, then puts the lid on, plugs it in, and switches the appliance on to cook on low. “That’s set, at least.”

He feels a little better, knowing that his home is in good hands, or at least, it’s not burning down. It sat empty for a month before; having someone live there for the summer should be better.

As long as none of the newly powered Mages set the place on fire.

Fire.

That reminds him.

Pawel checks one more time to ensure that the slow cooker is on and set to low, then heads back to the living room to dig out his laptop. He starts it up and finds the tab he’d left open for the outdoor music festivals, with a list of dates.

That’s what he thought: the festival that Rory and Thorne’s band, Phoenix Rising, is touring with will be in Buffalo this weekend.

Pawel buys four tickets. He figures Dad will come with them, and Conor will want to bring a friend. Probably Alan. And if Dad doesn’t want to go, Alan’s mom, Emily, might join them instead. He’s not worried if the tickets don’t all get used; he just wants options.

Conor will be pleased by the surprise, anyway.

He closes the laptop and looks back to the kitchen.

How the hell does his dad live like that, anyway? And what has Conor been eating?

No, he saw the answer to that this morning. Toaster pastries and cereal, and Pawel’s pretty sure that the last of the eggs were finished off as well.

Fine.

If Pawel’s going to be here all summer, squeezed into his dad’s small space, the least he can do is lay in supplies.

Pawel spends the day scouring the cabinets, making a long list of everything from prepared garlic and ginger for easy seasoning, to pantry staples like pasta, to critical items like various forms of protein for the freezer. His dad has a standing freezer in the garage, and even that seems woefully empty.

He loses time going through the sites online for each local grocery store, poring over the ads to determine which store will have the best value for this shopping trip. He types up the list to rearrange it by food type, so that as soon as Conor’s home they can head out and maybe they’ll be organized enough to get the trip done quickly.

“Dad!” The door bangs open. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving and something smells really good.”

“It’s not dinner time.” Pawel folds up the printout of the list and shoves it in his pocket. “We’re going shopping. Grab a snack.” His own stomach growls and he’s not sure how he made it from early morning to half past three without a meal. “I think I saw a box of granola bars.”

Conor lifts the lid to the slow cooker, inhaling deeply, while Pawel finds the last two granola bars. He tosses one to his son.

“Let’s get some food.”

“Can we get meat for the chili? That looked like it was all beans,” Conor grumbles. He buckles his belt, then directs Pawel to the grocery store. 

Pawel already knows how to get there, but he’s not going to tell Conor that. Not when Conor seems comfortable in this place and is enjoying showing off that comfort level. He stays silent while Conor points out the entrance to the parking lot, then finds them a space close to the door.

Conor grabs a cart from the corral and pushes it into the store. “Emma’s Papa picks her up after school, so she doesn’t have to take the bus. She said they’re doing stuff today, so she couldn’t come over. I thought we could work on our—Emma!!” 

Pawel catches the cart, stopping it from rolling when Conor takes off into the produce section. Emma’s answering shout is sharp and loud as Conor skids to a stop near a display laden with peaches. Pawel pushes the cart there, half an ear listening to the kids talking as if they weren’t together a half hour ago in school.

“Dad!” Conor waves at him, so Pawel picks up the pace.

He’s not sure who Emma is with. She stands next to an almost empty cart, except for a bag of peaches sitting in the seat. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of an adult.

“Emma’s shopping.”

Emma rolls her eyes, pushing braids back over her shoulder. “Obviously,” she says quietly. “Jennie had to pee. He’ll be back soon. She forgot to go before we left school.”

“Does your Papa have two carts? We can help you,” Conor offers. “You and me can do one cart, and Dad can do ours, and your Papa can do the other one.”

“You can call me Leo. I don’t think your dad would like it if you started calling me Papa like the rest of the kids.”

Pawel knows that voice.

He hasn’t heard the voice in a very long time, but there are certain phrases still etched in the deep recesses of his memory. 

He exhales, and very deliberately makes himself look at the man who has joined him.

He looks good. Older, yeah. It’s been more than ten years since Leo graduated and left town for college. Apparently he’s back now, and from the police uniform, this would be Emma’s foster father that works for Pawel’s dad.  He has the name ‘L. Papa’ embroidered on his uniform, just above the pocket, and his badge is still visible. Leo stands with one hand on the handle of the cart and reaches without looking to take a package of donuts out of the hands of the small girl sitting in the basket of the cart.

When he smiles, Pawel’s heart twists.

“I was glad to hear you reappeared,” Leo says quietly. His voice is a warm, low tenor, as careful and even as Pawel remembers.

“You’re fostering a Weather Witch.” It’s maybe not the best reply. Pawel refuses to wince when Conor snickers.

“I told you he’s single-minded sometimes,” Conor whispers loudly to Emma. “He’ll help find your parents. I know your Papa’s a police officer, but Dad’s a Mage.”

Emma’s brown eyes are furrowed and dark. Her lips purse, but she doesn’t say anything.

Leo takes two sheets of paper from his pocket, then hands one to Emma. “You know which cereals the boys like best. Pick one for yourself and Jennie that they won’t eat before you get a chance. Since you’re the one with me, you get to pick the pasta. I know it says twenty boxes of mac & cheese, but we only need ten. We’ll be shopping again next week.”

Emma takes the list and reads it over solemnly. “Nevaeh said we need more tuna, but it’s not on the list. I’ll get that, too. C’mon, Conor. There were some cookies on sale. Help me pick out ones that the boys won’t eat before we can.”

“Popcorn,” Conor replies. “Remember, we used the last of it last weekend? Did that get on your list?”

They roll away with the almost-empty cart before Pawel can protest.

The small girl in Leo’s cart has the box of donuts in her hands again. She opens the plastic carefully and takes one out.

“Jennie,” Leo says softly.

“I need sugar to sparkle,” she whispers around a mouthful of chocolate cream.

Speechless feels so strange. Pawel can’t remember the last time his tongue has been this tangled. “I—” He tries to break his own silence, and fails miserably.

“Things get chaotic with five kids in the house,” Leo says. When he smiles again, his pale green eyes crinkle around the corners with tiny lines that definitely weren’t there before. They match the faint hints of salt in his dark hair. “Conor’s got a lot of energy. He probably keeps you on your toes.”

“Dad says I’ve been cursed with a kid that’s just like I was,” Pawel says. He pushes his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to recover his balance. “He didn’t tell me you were one of Emma’s foster fathers. Just that she had two of them. Foster fathers. And two missing parents.”

Meeting his ex-boyfriend shouldn’t be this unsettling.

Pawel blames it on the fact that he’s probably still in a sleep deficit—two weeks is not enough time to catch up on missing sleep for several months.

“There’s a local teacher who works with a group that finds placements for Talented kids who need Talented families to stay with.” Leo has the second page of his list in his hand, and he refers to it while picking out produce.

Right. Shopping.

Pawel looks at his own list and tries to focus on that to give himself a little distance and wrangle his brain back into working order. Salad. They definitely need things for salad. And fresh vegetables for roasting wouldn’t be bad.

“Alice asked Colt if he knew anyone who might be able to take on kids about four years ago, and when he said we would, she put us in touch with Lucy and Rowan, and that’s how we got Matt, our first foster kid.”

Leo’s voice rolls over Pawel, dropping tidbits of information that he struggles to grab onto.

“Matt’s not bad,” Jennie says around a mouthful of donut. “Sometimes.”

Pawel latches onto the names, his fingers closing around a broccoli crown and holding it a little too tightly. He fumbles with the plastic bag. “Lucy and Rowan? And… Colt?” He had to have heard those wrong.

He manages to get the bag open and shoves two broccoli crowns into it, dropping them in the basket of his cart.

Leo is silent.

When Pawel looks at him, Leo stands with his fingers wrapped around the handle of the cart, his grip tight. “Colt Harrison,” he says. “My husband. You—”

“Dated him in high school, yeah.” Pawel finishes Leo’s sentence for him.

That’s… too much information. Pawel is struggling to assimilate it.

“Dad did not mention that,” he mutters.

“This doesn’t have to be weird.” Leo grabs the container of donuts and moves it to another area of the cart. Jennie could still get to it, but she pouts instead, slouching down in one corner of the basket, her lower lip sticking out and flecked with chocolate. “Colt and I met when he was interning at the law office where he works now. We’ve been married about three years. We didn’t even know each other back in high school.”

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Pawel echoes. He’s right, of course. It shouldn’t be weird. It’s not weird at all. People meet. They fall in love. They get married. They have kids. Sometimes there’s a small world effect and it turns out that they may have already been connected beforehand.

That’s all Pawel is in this; an ancient history connection.

“Your dad talks about you all the time,” Leo says. He pulls a napkin from his pocket and cleans Jennie’s fingers. “Try not to touch anything else,” he admonishes gently before tucking the dirty napkin back in his pocket. 

He’s so careful with her. Pawel remembers when Leo used to take care of his younger siblings. It only makes sense that he’d be good with kids now. As big and scruffy and rough looking as he is, he’s gentle, too.

“I need to—” Pawel holds up the list, showing just how long it is. “Dad’s cupboards are empty. I’m not sure what he and Conor have been eating, and I get the feeling that it’s takeout so I really don’t want to know. I need to stock up.”

“So do we. Matt’s eleven and Clan, and Duke’s fourteen. We go through a lot of food in our house.” Leo heads toward the back of the store. “Come on. We’ll catch up with the kids if we get moving.”

Pawel exhales and trails behind Leo. Jennie peeks around him, her thumb in her mouth as she looks at Pawel. Small brown brows furrow deeply before she turns away and curls up.

Her snores are adorable little rasps of sound. He can’t think how she’s sleeping through the rattle and squeak of the cart she rides in. Still, she’s silent as they work their way through the aisles, collecting items from their respective lists.

They turn down one aisle and spot Conor and Emma from a distance. Conor has sparks around his hand while Emma reaches for something falling from the shelves.

Pawel coughs, and Conor turns to give him an innocent look.

Wait. That reminds him.

“You’re taking in Talented kids,” Pawel says slowly. “So you or Colt must be—”

“We both are,” Leo says, glancing at him sideways. “I grew up Clan. Colt’s Emergent, but that’s his story to tell. I heard about you being a Mage from your dad. He’s proud of everything you’ve done at PHU.”

Pawel waves that away. “Youngest dean. Newest department. Only real expert on Talent as a whole because I’m the only person who’s bothered to go down the rabbit hole far enough to study it formally.”

“It’s still impressive.” Leo huffs.

“I just… I never knew.” Pawel thinks back and tries to catalog Leo’s family based on what he knows of Clan. He didn’t interview them for his thesis; they weren’t on his radar as a large Clan community. They grew up as a part of the town.

“You weren’t meant to.” Leo dips into his pocket and hands the napkin back to Jennie, who has somehow woken from her nap and polished off a second donut while they weren’t paying attention. “That was before the Emergence. We took a lot of care to be able to live here without anyone knowing.”

“But your community—”

“Widespread and buried within this town and the surrounding ones. We never really wanted to withdraw from the rest of the world. Which is what makes us good candidates for fostering. We don’t have those same prejudices that some might have.” Leo drops a hand to the top of Jennie’s head, and she looks up at him, smiling brightly.

There are, indeed, sparkles all around her, the air shimmering with her contentment and happiness.

“Conor wants me to help find Emma’s parents,” Pawel says quietly. “At the same time, I’m not sure if he really wants me to get involved, after everything that happened this last year. What do you—”

“I think they’re dead,” Leo says quietly. His hand still rests atop Jennie’s head, but his gaze is fixed on Emma. “I can tell you what little we know, but everything points to them being dead. The question is what happened to their bodies.”

Unfortunately, Pawel’s had experience with issues like that and can think of at least one scenario.

Which might mean they’re not dead.

They also might not be prepared to be parents anymore, either.

Leo pitches his voice louder. “You should come over for dinner some night.”

Both Conor and Emma turn to look at them. Emma grips the side of the cart, stepping up and holding on while Conor gives it a good push before jumping up himself. It sends them racing towards Leo and Pawel, until Pawel puts up a hand, throwing out a gentle cushion of magic to stop them before they crash.

“Yes!” Conor yells. “Dinner!”

“You could come over and meet everyone. If you want to.” Emma’s gaze drifts away, like she really doesn’t care about the answer.

“They’re like my second family. Third, maybe, because of Alan, but my second one here,” Conor insists. “And Emma’s dads are really nice.”

“They aren’t my dads.”

“I’m sure Colt would love to see you, too,” Leo adds.

Thanks for the gut punch.

“He says yes,” Conor says quickly. “Right dad? You say yes.”

What else is he supposed to do?

“Yes.” Pawel fishes out his phone, unlocking it and staring down. He doesn’t resist when Leo slips it from his fingers, opening up his text app and sending something.

Leo places the phone back in Pawel’s hands. “The first number is mine, the second is Colt’s. In case you don’t still have them.”

“I fried my phone and lost everything,” Pawel admits. “Back when I Emerged. So. Thank you.”

“It’s good to see you.” Leo’s touch is heavy and warm where he claps his hand against Pawel’s shoulder, then squeezes. 

Pawel could hug him, but he thinks that might be awkward. He’s never had this situation. He has three exes—two of them he hasn’t seen since they broke up, and the other one is Chelsea. Which is just complicated.

“Yeah, you too.” He watches as Leo walks away, Emma pushing the second cart beside him. Pawel wonders just how distracted Leo must feel since Jennie looks like she’s grabbing her third donut.

Or maybe that’s just how it is. Maybe he spoils his kids with plenty of sugar.

It’s not like Pawel knows anything about how Leo’s life is now.

Conor tugs sharply at Pawel’s shirt. “Dad. When are we going to dinner over at Emma’s house?”

Pawel looks down at his phone, at the new conversation sitting there. All it says is, this is Pawel.

He locks his phone and shoves it in his pocket. “I don’t know yet, but not tonight. Let’s go find that meat you wanted for the chili. Chicken might be good. We could sauté it up quickly and add it so it’ll get a couple hours in the slow cooker with the rest. Or we could cook it up with spices and add it afterwards.”

“You’re just saying that because chicken is healthy,” Conor grumbles. “I got more toaster pastries. Dziadziu lets me eat them.”

“I let you eat them, too, just possibly not in the same quantities,” Pawel protests. It’s not an argument he’s going to have right now, anyway.

He’s going to focus on finishing up the shopping, and finishing cooking dinner.

He’s going to focus on anything other than the fact that somehow both of the boys he dated in high school grew up to meet each other and end up married.

Yeah, he’s going to do his damnedest to focus on anything but that.

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[travellvogue]

“Dad says he still loves you”- Dele

Baby Imagines: Season 2- Day 5:

(it’s a sad one sorry, part 2 is welcome if you’d like it, flashbacks are in italics) 

inspired by the co parenting blurbs: 1 2 3 4

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“But he needs you!” you scream, the loudest you ever had before, the crack of a dry throat and the moisture of tears made you feel as though you were contradicting yourself. Despite the effort behind your scream it simply came out as a mouse whisper, hardly audible in the commotion of the moment, car doors slamming as he packs up his life, the memories you’d made, the love you’d created, all to drive away with it and leave you empty. The look on his face was unreadable, he’d turned from someone you knew everything about to someone you didn’t know in a matter of moments. It wasn’t only the baby who needed him, it was you, you couldn’t do this alone. Not without him. Not without the love of your life. 

“Hurry up! We’re late!”. It seemed to be the only sentence you ever said anymore, screaming it up the stairs as you packed the last few essentials into Levi’s weekend bag. Dele had insisted that it was completely unnecessary to pack cereal bars, toothpaste, a towel…claiming he had everything Levi could possibly need for the next two nights- only for you to reply “can’t really rely on you can I?” with a sarcastic grin, throat closing up at the truth. 

You knew it was selfish, but you didn’t want to share your baby boy with the man who took everything from you. Leaving you with a bump and heartbreak. A baby that was made with the help of him, but grown with the love of you. To hear him be called ‘dad’ when he was nothing of the sort made your skin crawl. Yet your body proves to you that the love for your son will overrule everything, every emotion you’ve ever felt, every ache he’s ever caused you. 

“I can’t look after a child y/n!” you scoff at his excuse for leaving, the positive pregnancy stick still held in your hands, your swollen stomach tightening with every word he said. The dream that quickly turned to a nightmare by the sight of two lines. “So what… you’re just gonna run away?” you couldn’t speak louder than a whisper, your heart was using all of your energy to try and mend itself, to try and make sense of the situation. It was only last night he was telling you he loved you, laid in bed- fingers tracing your spine as he spoke about your upcoming holiday together- now your future didn’t hold him. 

The bags were chucked in the back of the car, the hurried rush out the door making you forget your phone, a groan from your 5 year old as he babbles something about wanting to see dad. The sight of your own car was enough for you to not want to pull into the large sweeping driveway, the battered Nissan versa you’d had since you’d met Dele acted as something that highlighted the separation in your class status. Mister ‘I get lost in my own house because there’s fifteen bedroom and thirty-six bathrooms’ had no idea what it was like to be cramped up in a two bedroom flat whilst trying to raise an infant who thought it was appropriate the use the television as a goal for his makeshift crossbar challenges. 

You practically had to push your way through shin pads, empty fruit shoots, and skips packets to actually get into the car. Looking into the mirror to ensure your pride and joy had his seat-belt on. God forbid anything ever happened to him, you couldn’t lose the love of your life, not again. Friends and family would tell you that you were ‘too protective’, ‘overbearing’, ‘suffocating’; that you “need to take the reins off sometimes” but no one what it felt like to have him as the only constant in your life, he relied on you, he loved you, you’d created his body and grown him without the help of father figure, that in itself was enough to become a little ‘tOo pRoTeCtiVe’ of him- after all, he’d saved you. 

He smiles back at you, looking up from his football. He looked so much Dele, you despised the fact that his genes had overruled yours when Levi was baking in your belly. The hair, the nose, how his bottom lip was bigger than his top one, even down to the eyebrows, and the eyes… god the eyes, it was like looking into Dele’s, bringing your past into your future.  

“He looks like you” you said down the phone, heart aching as you admit to something you never wanted to become the truth, looking down at the newborn in your arms, your life had a meaning now, you had a reason to live, someone that was never going to leave your life. 

“I’ve got an idea for the name” Dele says so casually, shoveling snacks into his mouth, interrupting the smoothness to his words as he chews between breathes, he was so unfazed for someone who had just missed the birth of their own child. “I was thinking maybe-”

“I’ve already named him” you hurry to tell him. He had no input in any of this, whether he was fifty percent of your son, you had one hundred percent of the decision making in this moment. His disappointment was evident through his silence, the phone rang cold as he hung up. 

“LEVIIIII”. Deep breaths Y/N, drop him off, fake a smile, and leave.. “You alright mum?” he smiles at you, he hated when he called you mum, something about it making it sound as though he had the right to call himself dad, when in fact you should be called both.  You ignore the question. “Food’s in there, spare pants, socks, toothbrush and toothpaste...tissues because he’s got a bit of a runny nose, oh and-”

“Chill out” he chuckles at your sporadic movements, taking the bag off you and setting it into the hall, you couldn’t help but look along the shining white marble floors, tall ceilings and overly expensive decorations, so unlike your own home. “Wanna come in?” he must have noticed your longing glance, your cheeks turning bright red having been caught admiring his home, you couldn’t possibly admire anything about his life. 

“Nope” you’re quick to answer, too quick, one final kiss to Levi’s head as you finally let go of him, turning to walk away, shouting “look after him!” as you’re halfway down the driveway, aware Dele is still watching you walk away- oh how the tables have turned. 

You’d spent the whole weekend cleaning the house of dirty footprints and scuff marks on the walls from a football being kicked around within the tiny flat. Counting down the hours until you can have your baby back in the comfort of your own home. And before you knew it you were driving through the gates to the overly large house once again, dragging Levi out of the house despite his pleas to let him go to training with dad today. A stroppy six year old sat in the back fiddling with the delicate chain bracelet Dele has seemed to have ‘gifted’ him, frankly ridiculous for a child to have thousands of pounds around their wrist. 

“Mumma?” he asks gently, sensing you weren’t in the mood for a sing along to the radio, the car silent until he speaks. “Dad said he still loves you”, you swear you could have stalled the vehicle in that very moment, grip tightening on the steering wheel to the point where your knuckles turn white, feeling an overwhelming sense of sickness, breathing becoming heavier, throat stinging with the desperation to burst into tears. It was too little too late, love sticks around; love doesn’t pack up and leave at the first hurdle. You could feel your heart breaking all over again, why was it always his words that had such an effect on you? 

“I love you” the passion and truth in his words make your heartbeat a little faster, lips against your neck and arms around your waist, how you’d happily stay forever, in that moment you find yourself imagining your future together, a wedding, babies- everything you’d only ever want to share with him. Watching his face as he eyes glitter as they look at you, fingers tracing over your skin, the bed sheets draped over your naked bodies, the passionate love making warming your bodies as you glow from within. If only he knew where that glow was truly coming from. 

But he’d proved that he didn’t, he wasn’t, he hadn’t ever loved you. Instead he’d left you to learn what true love is, the only part of his DNA that ever loved you was in the form of a small child, the same eyes holding a different love, the same smile, making you feel a different happiness- raw and truthful, everything Dele proved he wasn’t. 

“No he doesn't’....” you hiss, the anger in your words silencing the young boy, “...he never did”

As hard as you tried, a little piece of the past was still in your future. Forever.

(ignore)tags: @footballdaydream @luc-57x  @tahith44 @cinnnabaee @shakila-k @inlovewithamess @trentaafc​ @dreamingdcl

[autumn-rain-asset]

Hey everyone, if you follow me you have probably realized by now that I re/post a fair share of posts about abuse. And if any of you haven’t picked up on it by now, I live with my abusive parents(more actively, my mother).

I’m beginning to plan my escape since college is almost over for me, and I’m looking to see if anyone has an tips/ideas that can help me or anyone else when running away from an abusive household/relationship.

I’ll list a basic outline of my plan to hopefully help someone else, as well as give others ideas to bounce off of:

Step 1: find a location.

This is incredibly important to escaping/running away!! Do not save this for last, it is crucial! Find yourself Both a safe house to stay at in the beginning to get your bearings, and a town/city location to go to after the safe house that you are sure is far enough and safe enough from your abusers.

Step 2: get a used cheap car.

This step may not be necessary for you if your car is under your name, but if you are like me and are unable to get your car under your name, save about 2-3,000 dollars and buy a used car off Facebook or local auctions. Once you get this car, find a trusted friend to leave it with until you’re ready for it, or leave it in your jobs parking lot if your boss allows you to.

Step 3: get a new phone of any kind.

This step is crucial particularly to those of you whose phones plans are connected to your abusers, or for those of you who have apps like Life360 installed on your phone. When you leave, you must leave your current phone behind to ensure that they can’t track you, and don’t activate your new/escape phone until the day of or sometime after you’ve reached your safe house.

Step 4: As you start getting the above steps in order, finish any schooling you are currently doing(if possible). Especially if it’s highschool or you’re paying for it!

Finishing highschool ensures that you have a higher chance of getting a job after escaping(make sure you get a copy of your transcripts before you leave, but we’ll discuss that in another step). And finishing college gives you more job opportunities to apply to!

Step 5: set escape date and safe house(if available).

Now that you finished the hard parts, it’s time to get going. Set the date for when you will escape and have a plan: this can include having a friend or adult drive you to the safe house, having safe houses/locations backed up in case something goes wrong, and even go so far as to plan the date can’t time that you will leave with the least amount of confrontation(ideally, when your abusers are not at the house).

Step 6: get all/any important paperwork.

Get any paperwork that you’ll need to do anything, this includes: birth certificate,social security card, etc.

Step 7: pack everything you’ll need and nothing more.

Depending on the size of car you have, you can bring more or less stuff, but make sure you have the essentials before anything else.

My packing list looks like this:

•7 days worth of clothes(7pants,7shorts,7shirts, etc.)

•one or two good pair of shoes(tennis shoes, and boots(for winter)), and a light and heavy jacket

•all toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, deodorant, bar of soap and shampoo/conditioner, 1towel, 1loofa/washcloth, one pack of razors,pads/tampons if a girl) (keep in mind these are essentials, things like face wash and face masks can be added later if there is room)

•sleeping things(a mattress/blow up mattress, a heavy and light blanket, one good pillow)

•medicine (ibuprofen and Advil are all you should need for now unless you have other medications that you take regularly, in which I would suggest talking to your doctor about if your 18 or having a trusted adult help you with if you’re under age)

•food, although you might be staying at a safe house for a while, it is always good to pack oof anyways in case things go wrong. (A case or 2 of water, filling foods like protein bars or canned foods, a box of cereal)

Currently, I can’t think of much else you’ll need as essentials, of than money(in cash) for you to use. If your abusers have access to your bank account, go to a atm and take out as much money as you can from your account the day that you leave, do not do so earlier as they will notice and get suspicious. Leave your saved money with a trusted friend/adult if possible.

Step 8: it’s time to go, so make sure you are ready to leave.

Triple check everything before this date to make sure that you are forgetting nothing. If a friend/adult is picking you up, make sure that you are ready to throw your stuff in their car and leave as soon as possible. Spend as a little time getting into their car as possible.

If you are driving yourself, slowly start adding your packed stuff to the car day by day so that when it is time for you to leave, all you have to do is ensure the abusers gone and leave to your safe house/safe location. Or, bring your stuff to the safe house/location day by day if you feel safer that way/less suspicious.

Once you have arrived at your safe house/location, contact a trusted friend/adult who knows about this that you are safe and ensure that they know not to spill any information about you when the abuser comes asking about you. Under no uncertain terms are they to even give away that they know you have left.

Step 9: make sure you are completely set/ready to leave the safe house.

If you have a safe house, make sure you have everything you need before you go to an even safer(and farther) location from your abuser/s. If you don’t have a safe house and instead have a safe location, then ensure that this location is completely safe.

If you don’t have a safe house, I’d advise that you have 2 safe locations. Go to one town, stay there to recollect yourself, then go to a farther safe location to ensure that you are 100% safe and free.

And for the sake of making this a 10 step plan:

Step 10: be free

If anyone has anything else to add to this, please feel free to and tag me in it. I’ll need all the help I can get, and I’m sure others will as well. Sometimes having a detailed plan is all it takes for someone to decide that they’re ready to escape, because the plan makes it real.

Thanks <3

[jjyusmile]

road not taken | lee minho

lee minho (lee know) | road not taken

pairing: lee minho x {gender-neutral} reader!

word count: 2,400

notes: hiiii, this is the first of three parts for the lovely lee minho <333 i’ve loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it too! follow to keep updated on this story and check out the others on my masterlist!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

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trying to explain Soul to the unfamiliar is always a task. a pairing ritual was set in stone by the ancestors of Soul to avoid the seven deadly sins and the most painful emotion of all - loneliness. in our world, you’re assigned a person on your fifth birthday and they become your person. this person has similar interests to you and you will live out your days with that person~ they may become a friend, a carer, or even a lover. but it is vital that you don’t break that connection, or you are left with nothing. everything you know will be stripped from you, and you will be banished to the Deep.

your dad used to tell ghost stories of those who didn’t survive the connection and were banished to the pit. it was his way of warning us to think carefully about the path we take with our person – if you choose wrong, Soul can be torn and you will inevitably be casted to the Deep by our ancestors that watch over us. but he always promised us one thing – stick by your person and you will never be lonely.

your person will always be within your district, and will most likely be someone that you grew up with. sometimes, they can be closer than you think. it was your own parents that became elite members of the Pair – pairings that survive the ritual and become connected through everlasting love. that being said – a pairing does not need to be romantic, but like your parent’s case, it was. they fell in love at 15, and on your mother’s 18th birthday – she heard the three words she had wanted your dad to tell her, but they weren’t spoken out loud. he had told her he loved her through the vocalized connection that a pairing shares the moment the youngest turns 18. they become telepathic to each other.

yet, not everyone is as lucky as your parents. some pairings do not succeed as progressively as the ancestors anticipated.

your sister chose to remain platonic with her person – he became a valuable member of your family as your sister’s best friend, but you could tell it was hard for them to make this decision.

your uncle became one of the fateful Lone – a human who lost their pairing to sudden death or a tear in Soul. his pairing wasn’t raised to understand the deep important of a pairing and when he found your uncle, he decided to tear Soul instead. however, despite the painful act of the Tear, your uncle underwent Reparation – a repairing of humans who have lost their pair to reignite happiness and optimism. his pair is another valuable member of your family, and their love came by a stroke of luck that their original pairings had failed.

-------

on your fifth birthday, your day went as follows. you woke up to presents and cake from your family. a trip to the park did not go a miss. but before your annual trip to your uncles’ restaurant – you needed to stop by the clinic to begin your transition into the pairing. the towering doors to the clinic instilled a fear into you that could only be diminished by your mothers soothing words. once your name had been called, you were taken into a room by a sweet old woman and told to sat in the chair in the middle.

the room was an off white all over – the circular room was covered in tiles from wall and floor that made the room seem much larger than it was. you knew now that it was to ensure that kids weren’t scared when they had to sit in the secluded room for an hour on their 5th birthday. the chair in the middle looked like it belonged in a dentist’s room – no cushion in sight but a slight incline with foot pedals fit for a small child. beside the chair was a small metal trolley with a single cup filled with a silver liquid. the chair was facing a large mirror that showed your reflection.

once you were sat in the chair, you saw your mum at the door in the corner of the room with encouraging smile and wave. “just listen to the instructions – you will be out of here in no time. I promise we can get the biggest ice cream we can find straight after. deep breaths and just close your eyes.”

her soothing voice was enough to waiver the fear that set in once the door had locked and the lights dimmed. a static voice surrounded the room with a set of instructions.

good morning. today is your special day – the day your life truly begins. now, I’m here to ensure you are safe and taken care of, okay? now, I see you have a cup of liquid beside you. can you take that into your hands for me? well done, now it might taste a little funny but we’ll pretend it’s like orange juice and drink it in one go! okay, now count with me – three, two, one. amazing, you did well. now try to relax, close your eyes and listen to the music.

by the time you were out of the clinic, your brain felt slightly jumbled but for a child that was promised the biggest ice cream in the city – it was like nothing had happened.

------

the day before your 18th birthday was quite nerve-wracking. your friend and the current occupier of your thoughts, jisung, you had spoken about the underlying nerves that you might not become a member of the Pair. you had always liked each other, but the daunting reality that was to hit you on your birthday made it almost impossible to make any plans. you had every confidence that you would, but an intrusive thought sat at the front of your mind every time you spoke about it. it might not be him – or he might not want it to be him.

that evening, your uncles came to visit for dinner. chatter over the dinner table was nothing but warm. but when you excused yourself for bed, they pulled you aside into the hallway as they put on their jackets.

“tomorrow’s a big day, huh?”

“yeah – I enjoyed celebrating my birthday with you all though. thank you both so much for coming.”

“hey, kid. coming from us, if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan-“

“I know. thanks.”

“we know you know – but, if it doesn’t. it will hurt for a while, but you’ll get through it. remember that it will be the road not taken – you will find your own path eventually, like we did.”

the intrusive thoughts that had settled in a while ago had returned. and they remained that way through the night.

and when you woke up, it felt like your chest was on fire. your heart began to sink as you realised what was happening. the small “I’m sorry” that echoed through your head sounded oddly familiar. it was happening to you – they had warned you. a rare case was you.

he had rejected you – and it felt like your heart had been stolen from your chest. an endless sharp pain stayed that way for a few days. until your mum managed to get you an appointment at the clinic for a Reparation. constant reassurance that everything would be okay felt far from the truth.

this was a road not taken.

------

you were officially 18 years and 24 days old – still no pairing.

until october 25th. it was a tuesday. you were woken up in the middle of the night to a humming sound.

it wasn’t an overwhelming noise. it was quiet, and soothing. and it sent you right back to sleep.

-----

it must have been a dream. surely it was just a dream. you hadn’t had any connection since that night over a week ago. your pairing must still be 17, hopefully.

you often thought about jisung – what was he doing now? is the Deep really a fiery burning pit of hell? it still stung when you thought about the Tear. it was like a distant memory with a sharp pang in your chest each time.

the morning time was the worst~ the nightmares that drowned your unconscious state was followed by hours of numbness. as you poured the last of your raisin bran ~ supposedly good for the Reparation procedure, it’s all lies ~ you stared blankly at the morning paper left by your dad.

the thought of having to go back to school today was painful. you managed to get out of writing the French colonialism essay but you know that as soon as you-

hmmm. eggs? no, I had those yesterday. cereal? ahh, cereal sounds good. what do we have??

the voice you had wanted to hear for so long overwhelmed your thoughts. they sound young – maybe your age? maybe a year or so older?

the thought of possibly losing your person was too overwhelming that your confidence sat at the forefront of your attitude.

if you have raisin bran – it’s not bad.

you felt a slight pause. you weren’t sure if you had startled them or not. you chose to pretend as if it hadn’t happened and went back to munching on your rather bland cereal. until-

I’ll take your word for it. I’ll stick to my cookie crunch – but thanks.

they were smiling, the hint of a light-hearted tone masked the surprise on both of your parts. the last time you were connected to someone they tore your heart out within seconds – this one seemed to be your chance. or so you had hoped.

okay. uh, cool. that’s really… uh, cool.

you had never physically faced palmed in your life until this moment… cool?! are you serious?!

a soft chuckle clouded your thoughts as your eyes widened in disbelief. oh god. uh, you can hear everything, huh?

yep.

your palms clenched the edge of the breakfast bar you sat at every morning. thinking was only going to embarrass you further.

can you just pretend you don’t hear me trying to recollect my own thoughts before I attempt to speak to you again?

silence.

thank you- uhh. okay. h-hi.

hey.

hey, i- should we… introduce ourselves?

there was another pause. a bit longer than the first.

I know who you are. I could recognise your voice anywhere.

it was your turn to pause. the candor in their voice. you stopped for a moment to recall this conversation. surely if they recognise you, you should recognise them?

oh, okay. may I ask who you are then?

why don’t you ask me some questions? … I’d be quick, we only have 45 minutes until we need to be at school.

that was how you found yourself walking to school, feeling much lighter than when you first woke up. you asked all kinds of questions – did they grow up in this town? where were you most likely going to see them next? where do they sit for lunch?

you had narrowed down a few key points – they were male, they were your age, and they only went to school for their friends, and dancing. to be frank, this narrowed down to a few options but you didn’t jump to any conclusions.

so, you’re on the dance team?

mmhm. I don’t want to toot my own trumpet, but I’m pretty good.

you giggled, and the aura you felt in your connection told you that he was smiling.

I think I know who you are.

another pause. okay, go ahead.

you’re obviously hyunjin.

you were lowly giggling to yourself when he gasped.

veto. try again.

you were entering the school gate by this point. a half an hour walk went by in a flash. you felt warm with the company inside your head – in the hour or so that you had felt the connection, you felt stronger and more confident already.

the soulmate connection always felt like a façade that people forced themselves to believe. but right now, you felt light and warm. and you hadn’t even met him yet.

the courtyard was crowded with familiar faces. you looked around at familiar guys in your class – but there wasn’t the feeling of a connection anywhere. and his presence in your mind had gone quiet.

frantically, you looked around to find the person you had your heart set on. you knew you were psyching yourself up for a possible letdown. but you couldn’t help it… it had to be him.

there was a slight radiance coming from the willow tree that sat at the furthest point away from the main building.

underneath the tree, as you approached, sat the person you were looking for. he sat with his back against the worn bark, with a book in his hand and his concentration stolen from whatever world laid within those pages.

no wonder the connection went silent.

at your thought, his head snapped up as your footsteps became louder. recognising who was approaching him, he slowly closed the novel that he was so engrossed in, with a knowing smile forming on his lips.

his eyes started to twinkle like a whole galaxy had formed within his irises. although you hadn’t spoken to this boy outside of a group setting, the comfortable aura that he radiated appeared to be something only you would ever witness.

his features became much more stark as you approached him – the way his golden hair was perfectly styled in a messy manner, the definition of his arms that peeped out of the plain black t-shirt he wore, and his honey skin that glowed under the warm sky.

you stopped by his feet as he looked up at you with a shy smile. you knew he rarely showed any form of affection to anybody, but right now, you were different.

without the need for confirmation, the connection told you everything you needed to know. this was the start of something special and your final chance at finding happiness in the darkness.

the moment your eyes locked, you knew. as he looked up at you with surety there was no need for the connection to communicate anymore. his warmth was overwhelming but gave you the confidence you needed and prepared you for the road that was meant to be taken.

“minho.”

------

endnote: this is part one of three! follow for the next update :))) thank you for reading!

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 9- On The Low 

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Steve and Katie face work whilst trying to keep their relationship under wraps, and a familiar face enters the team for one day only... 

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) and mentions of inappropriate behaviour with animals (nothing graphic, we promise!) NO UNDER 18s!!!!

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark 

Song for Episode:  Don’t Stop Believing by Journey

A/N: This is a LONG chapter guys, but it’s starting to ramp things up in the investigation so…bear with us! And yeah, we have no idea how suspect banking accounts work so roll with us  here…this is all a load of bullshit for fan-fic purposes and humour anyway so…give it us as creative license!!! Oh and get ready for another Chris character to make an appearance… whether or not you’ve seen The Losers, we hope this makes you laugh as much as it did us when we wrote it!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments  

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List // Main Masterlist 

Streetlights people, livin' just to find emotion. Hidin’ somewhere in the night 

The door to the briefing room flew open and Steve turned to see Katie walk in, dressed in her usual jeans, button down and vest top combination along with those damned boots. Her badge which was round her neck on the issued chain swung slightly as she turned and shut the door.

“You’re late.” Steve said a little harshly. She looked at him, arranging her face into a contrite expression and nodded.

“Sorry, no excuse. I didn’t get much sleep last night…”

Steve kept his face straight as she sidled into a seat at the large table next to Bucky who was smirking slightly.

“Where the hell have you been?” Tony looked at her “Kiddo, I ain’t seen you since Saturday morning.” “Busy.” she replied.

“Doing what, or should I say who? You been with Storm?”

“No, Narnia…” she replied simply.

“Narnia?” Tony frowned, looking puzzled.

“Yeah, Narnia business….” The rest of the team sniggered and Steve didn’t miss the look on Wanda’s face as she eyed Katie up and down, a soft smirk flickered across the red head’s face. Deciding he needed to take control as Tony and Katie had now started to bicker, Tony pointing out angrily that he wasn’t running a bed and breakfast for her or whatever biker gang she was running around with, he coughed and raised his voice.

“I’m not interested in your lack of sleep or your domestic arrangements Stark.” he said sternly, crossing his arms in front of him, levelling her his best Captain’s look as the room fell quiet “I’ll see you in my office after. You can explain yourself then.” She made a show of rolling her eyes before she shrugged “Yes Captain.” but he caught the unmistakable flash in her eye and he hastily looked away before certain parts of his anatomy reacted a little bit inappropriately.

He handed over to Tony who gave a bit of a briefing on what they had found on the latest body, which as usual didn’t give them much. Then Katie and Natasha told everyone what they knew about Schmidt so far and how it was looking likely that the case was linked to Rumlow’s, but that they would know more once Jensen had been up to take them through what he had found on the phones.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this needs to stay on the low.” Steve said. “I don’t want the press getting a sniff of this being connected to the old case, certainly not until we can 100% make that connection.” “I’ve also been thinking…” Katie said, looking at Steve “We need to speak to Sara Klein. Just to see if she’s heard or seen anything. I know the pattern so far is all about males and we may not have any logical reason to assume she’s in any danger but…well…” Steve looked at her and nodded “Ok, you do what you need to do and track her down,  I’ll speak to Holt seeing as the case was originally the Nine-Nines, give him the low down on what we’re dealing with and that we’ll be digging around again.” “I know this might sound like a stupid question but is there any merit in going to speak to Rumlow?” Clint asked, lounging back in the chair he was sat on “I mean he might be able to help…” Katie snorted “There’s no way he’ll help us.”

“But it might be worth a shot?” Clint looked at her “I mean, if this is connected to his case, he’s bound to know something. Doors open both ways…”

“It’s a good point Clint.” Steve said “Something to bear in mind for the future, but for the time being, until we can one hundred percent confirm a link we’ll keep it on the backburner.”

Clint nodded at his Captain and then Steve glanced round.

“Anything else?”

Silence.

“Ok Avengers, dismissed.” Everyone began to file out, Katie walking with Natasha talking about something. Steve headed back to his office, gave it 5 minutes before he emerged, casually rolling the dial as he did so ensuring that the blinds which adorned the window that looked out into the main area were closed enough so that no one could see inside. It wasn’t unusual for him to do so if he was concentrating on something and didn’t want to be disturbed, so no one would give it a second thought.

“Stark…” he barked. She looked up and he gestured into the room.

“Yes Captain, right away Captain…” she said sarcastically, standing up and walking past him. He shut the door with a loud slam and made sure to raise his voice as she stood in his office, arms folded.

“I’ve put up with your lack of care for time keeping and general attitude for long enough, it stops now…” he said, and she raised an eyebrow the corner of her mouth twitching up a little as he mouthed the word sorry, and grimaced a little. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Very clear, Captain. It won’t happen again…”

“Good, now, run me through what we have on Schmidt in more detail…” he said, walking towards his desk.

“I don’t have more detail…” she dropped her voice.

“Yeah I know.” he grinned, “But they don’t…” “Uh huh…” she smirked up at him “You know your performance out there and just then was worthy of an Oscar, you’re such a Drama Queen. And for the record, I don’t appreciate being chastised for something that technically isn’t my fault. You made me late…” “Sorry.” he shrugged as she took a step towards him “Guess I need to apologise somehow.” “Thought you were done looking for forgiveness?” she quipped and he raised an eyebrow.

“Well I also recall saying I’m way past asking for permission so…” he reached out and grabbed her hips, spinning her round so that the back of her thighs hit his desk. She smirked up at him slightly as she perched on the edge, his hands cupping her face before he bent down and gave her a long, soft kiss.

“You do know the rest of the team are out there, right?” she looked at him as he pulled away.

“Yeah, you’re right…” he said, stepping back “Ok fine, you can go now. Dismissed.” Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him, blinking for a second as she stood up “Seriously?” He shrugged and moved round to the other side of his desk.

“That’s how it is?” she pressed.

“That’s how it is…” he smirked, extremely pleased with how clearly antsy he’d gotten her.

“But Stevie…” she whined, stamping her foot “That’s not fair…” she turned her eyes on him, fluttering her eyelashes, those goddamned eyes that could get him to do whatever the hell she wanted and he felt the front of his trousers suddenly becoming slightly too tight.

“Stop being a brat.” he warned her in a low voice.

She cocked her head to one side before she raised her eyebrows and simply smiled “Fine.” He tone was calm, and collected, and he couldn’t help but feel a little unnerved.

“Honey…” he started but she simply smiled at him, before turning and leaving.

***** Bucky saw Katie coming out of Steve’s office with an unreadable expression on her face, but she certainly was not contrite. He knew all too well Steve was playing the offended Captain when his reprimand to Katie could be heard all over the main office. They would probably have been groping each other while Steve did what he was supposed to do with anyone who arrived late for briefing. Which, in fairness to Katie hadn’t actually been her fault. They’d stayed up late drinking and talking and then this morning she’d barrelled out of the apartment early doors to get home and changed. In fact, Bucky was amazed she’d managed to do it all and make to briefing only 10 minutes behind time.

Thus, he raised an eyebrow at her when she passed by his desk and he motioned his head slightly on Natasha's direction. The red head was scrutinizing Katie like she was the main suspect in a first-degree murder case.

"Asshole" Katie said plopping on her chair. And Bucky saw her looking at him for approval, so he nodded discreetly.

"Did he give you the Son, just don't talk?" Clint, who was throwing pens into an empty pencil pot he had placed over a deck of files and notepads, asked mimicking the Captain's voice.

"Yeah, kinda." Katie scoffed.

"Well, he can be a dick sometimes but you did arrive a bit late. By the way..." Natasha drawled and was about to ask something when Wanda cut in.

"He's only doing his job. I don’t think it’s very professional to show up late for a meeting when everyone is waiting for you. Especially on a Monday after having spent all weekend who knows where and who knows with"

"And that concerns you, because? Go on, enlighten me." Katie said trying to sound as calm as possible but glaring at Wanda.

"Wanda." Natasha warned.

"What? I'm only saying..." Wanda started.

"Yeah well don’t. I'm not interested in what you've got to say. And don't you have reports to file or whatever it is you do?" Katie snapped.

"Burn." Clint quipped, fist pumping as another pen landed in its target.

"Oh and by the way, how was your weekend, Wanda? Have any luck on Friday night?" Katie continued her counter attack, making Bucky choke on the chocolate bar he was munching.

"All right, I need my Frappuccino and it's your turn buying, so you'd better get going coz you're already late for that as well." Bucky told Katie trying to divert her attention from Wanda whose nostrils had flared angrily. “And a Danish…”

Wanda was being a total bitch if you asked him, but he needed to deactivate vicious Katie before things went South. Meaning a slip of the tongue on Katie's part or an inappropriate gesture on Steve's part when he tried to defend his girl from Wanda. Man, this was gonna be a tough job keeping this quiet.

And he was hungry when he was under pressure.

"You're right. And I need to get out of here. Tell Captain Ass-hat I went to grab coffee, be right back." she said to Bucky as she put her jacket on.

Just as Katie was grabbing her purse, her phone rang and she answered the call.

"Hey, Johnny. Hang on a sec, I'm on my way out..."

Natasha and Clint darted a quick glance at each other and then at Bucky who shrugged. To tell the truth, he was as clueless as they were.

"Guess we have our answer there." Wanda said, a smug smile on her face.

"Was she really with Storm?" Clint asked Bucky.

"How would I know?" Bucky replied trying to avoid looking at Natasha who was watching him with squinting eyes.

"Who cares?" Wanda said "She's a total whore who has slept with God and their mother."

"Alright that’s enough!" Bucky hissed jumping up from his seat. "Wanda go to your desk and do some work before you put your foot in your mouth, again." Bucky ordered her in complete Sergeant mode.

Wanda rolled her eyes and did as told by Bucky. She was in no position to protest, he wasn't Steve but he outranked her and she knew that. To be fair, Katie outranked her as well, not that the red head cared as Bucky still heard her mumbling something about Katie fucking him too. He decided to let it be, he didn't want to spur Wanda against Katie, at least, not more than she already was. He made a mental note to talk to Steve about Wanda again, though.

Natasha waited until Wanda had sat on her spot behind the counter at the reception desk before sitting on the border of Bucky's desk arms crossed.

"Barnes? We are having a nice chat in the kitchen you and me. Clint, you're coming too." Natasha commanded and made a sign with her hands for both men to follow her before sitting up and heading for the kitchen.

"Why the kitchen?" Bucky asked, foreseeing a third-degree on Clintasha's part.

"Because I want a coffee. But mainly because I don't want snitchy witchy hearing what I have to say." Natasha offered as she and Bucky entered in the kitchen followed by Clint who was now twirling a pencil through his fingers.

"OK, Barnes, spit.” Natasha urged Bucky to speak as she poured herself some coffee.

"What? I don't know what you mean." Bucky tried to dodge the question.

"Not it, Barnes." Clint said plopping himself up on the kitchen counter and grabbing an apple from a bowl.

"All right. Let's start from the beginning. What was that call from Storm about?" Natasha sighed.

"How would I know?" Bucky protested.

"She hasn't seen him since Friday, has she?" Natasha insisted.

"HOW. WOULD. I. KNOW, Romanoff?” Bucky repeated leaning his elbows on the table and making a dramatic pause between each word.

"Drop that one, Nat." Clint intervened "Guy doesn't know."

"Well, yeah. How about that? Why didn't you reply to any of the fucking thirty text messages I sent you yesterday?" Natasha hissed glaring at Bucky while she straddled a chair next to him.

"Twenty-six." Bucky deadpanned holding Natasha’s stare.

She wanted to play cat and mouse, Bucky thought. Well, watch out for a loyal mouse who wanted the cat to believe he was being cornered.

"Dickhead." Natasha spat.

"By the way, have you talked to Wanda about Friday? Will she stop chasing after Steve now he rejected her?" Bucky asked trying to get some information he could sneak to Steve and Katie.

"She won't let him of the hook. The idiot seems to think that he only rejected her because he's her boss and there were a lot of people from work there. She's delusional." Natasha said rolling her eyes.

Bucky shook his head, he definitely had to warn Steve.

"Good one. I'll give you that, Barnes." Clint chuckled.

"Yeah. She was there when you arrived home yesterday, wasn't she?" she asked with a half-smile.

"You bet she was." Clint added biting the apple.

"Who's she again?" Bucky asked faking a frown.

Natasha groaned and was about to strike back again when they heard steps and Wanda's voice chatting with someone approaching the kitchen.

"Saved by the bell, Barnes" Clint quipped

"Oh fuck, Wanda. This moron is giving me everything." Natasha muttered before standing up and putting the chair back on place.

"I don't... give everything." Bucky said sarcastically.

"Natasha? Ah, there you are!" Wanda said entering the kitchen. "Jake is here."

Bucky turned to look at the man. He had met Jake Jensen on one occasion the team had needed his assistance to crack into some big fish computer. But after Katie's confession they had been more than friends just the previous day, he looked at the man from a different perspective. He would be lying if he said Jensen didn't remind him a bit of Steve. And that was clearly Wanda’s thinking because she was making goo-goo eyes at the man.

"Wanna coffee, Jensen?" Natasha offered.

"Yeah, that would be great. Thanks" Jensen said as he left his briefcase on the table and greeted Bucky.

Bucky observed as the man approached Natasha, who was tinkering with the coffee pot, and leaned on the counter beside her

"S- ... Where are you from originally?" Jensen asked, giving her his best flirty pose and look.

"The Russian steppe." Natasha deadpanned without taking her eyes from the coffee pot.

"Wow, so that must have been..." and he hesitated, searching from something clever to say.

Natasha lifted her head to look at him with a serious expression as she open a drawer to grab a coffee spoon.

"…Frosty." Jake grimaced the moment he uttered the word finishing his sentence, but Natasha continued getting his coffee ready.

"Do you have any hobbies?" Jensen tried again.

Bucky shared a glance with Clint. It was amusing watching Jensen struggle to chat Natasha up making a fool of himself.

"When I was little, I collected human ears." Natasha replied playing with him before handing him a coffee mug.

"Good times." Jensen said taking his coffee and faked a chuckle. "But it's...” he didn't finish. Instead he went to the table to grab his briefcase nodding his head.

"Is that a crossbow tattoo you have there." he said pointing at Clint's left arm.

Clint nodded moving his arm to show it to him.

"Cool." Jensen said admiring Clint's tattoo. “I like crossbows, I used to have one, bitches.”

Natasha looked at Clint with an amused smile and he shrugged. Bucky simply blinked in disbelief. This guy was like a watered down version of Flash Fire Dude. Katie really knew how to fucking pick them.

Frogs and princes…

"Ok. Let's go do some work. See what you have for us." Clint said jumping from the counter.

"Yeah. Katie must be back now, surely." Bucky added standing up.

"Katie?" Jensen asked looking between Bucky and Natasha, his eyes wide open with excitement.

"Ok. There you are! I was beginning to wonder if I was alone in this office." Steve’s voice cut across the room and everyone turned to look at him where he was stood leaning on the kitchen doorframe.

"And, where's Stark?" he asked scanning the room searching for her.

"She went out when she got a call from Storm and never got back." Wanda quipped as she walked past Steve out of the kitchen.

"What? She-“ he started to ask, looking at Bucky for answers, but he was interrupted by Jensen.

"Hey, Captain Rogers! How you doing?" he greeted Steve skipping formalities and slapping him on the back.  "When did Hottie Mc Hottie get back?" he added leaning over Steve's ear, dropping his voice.

Steve shot a glare at him before commanding everyone to resume their work at the briefing room.

"We need to talk." Bucky whispered to Steve as they both followed the team down the corridor.

Steve frowned at his friend and spotted the concern written all over his face. He sighed and nodded.

"Later. We have to sort this out first." Steve said nodding towards Jensen who was walking ahead of them escorted by Natasha and Clint.

Steve had begun his day in high spirits. He had woken up with Katie in his arms for the first time ever (which was the reason she’d had to then make a run for it once they’d realised the time) and the weekend had been an absolute blessing, but his day was beginning to descend into a nightmare. What was that Wanda had said? Storm had called Katie and she was nowhere to be seen.

Of course he trusted his girl, he knew she wouldn't do that to him, more over after everything they had gone through. But he had seen Storm flirting with Katie, up close, and he definitely didn't trust him.

God, his nerves were on edge. The little love bubble he and Katie were in had burst the moment he had set foot at the station and it was more than Bucky’s teasing that they had to deal with. Add to that the fact Jensen had been thrown into the mix. And although Steve had known he would be showing up today, actually seeing him and having to put up with his comment about Katie being back was really testing his limits. That said, he knew Jensen was a great asset if they wanted some progress in the case. Besides, if he hadn't been the world's leading authority on waiting too long to go get his girl, Jensen wouldn't even be in the picture. That one was on him.

And now Bucky was saying they had to talk, which was the icing on a very shit cake. He didn't like it. He was sure it had something to do with Natasha going all Perry Mason down on Buck. Or at least that's what he hoped. He didn't want to even think it involved Wanda. She had been suspiciously calm and resigned after he had pushed her away on Friday. But then again, what could she do? He was her boss and it wouldn't be wise to pick up a fight at the station.

His head was a whirlwind of thoughts and mixed emotions by the time everyone was gathered in the briefing room. He could feel a head ache brewing at the back of his eyes already, and it wasn’t even 10 am.  He tried to focus himself back on track and was watching Jensen pull some documents and a laptop out his briefcase when Katie entered the room, three cups of coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag with Shuri's deli logo printed on it.

Steve saw her flash him a swift smile before handing him his usual order, her fingers deliberately and discreetly brushing his, before she set Bucky's one and the paper bag on the table in front of the Sergeant.

"Thanks." Steve said. And he was sure Katie had read relief in that word.

“Oh my God…” Jensen said, looking Katie up and down “Hi.”

“You know that only works once?” Katie said with a laugh, folding her arms.” “Well can you blame a boy for trying?” he quipped cheekily “How’s it hanging Stark?” “You tell me.” she smirked back.

There was a pause before Jensen grinned.  "Come here." he said approaching Katie with arms open to hug her.

"How you doing, Jakey doll?" she asked hugging him back.

Steve saw Bucky look at him, he could clearly read What the fuck, man? on his friend's face. He just shook his head and sipped from his cup. Let them do their thing, he thought, they had to lay low and Jensen was just, well, being Jensen.

"Damn, you look good, girl." Jake said grinning "You cut your hair." he added waving his hand to his shoulder.

"Good observation, J. You don't look bad yourself." Katie smiled at him fondly.

"Why thank you. Liking the dangle of the dangle?" Jensen asked cheekily, hands on his hips.

Katie burst out laughing, shaking her head “You’re an absolute idiot…” Steve could hear Wanda sniggering and Bucky muttering “Oh, for fuck's sake” and that was enough to make the Captain snap. He might not be able to publicly declare she was with him but he was damned if he was letting this carry on. It ended, now.

"Yeah, can we push whatever angle you dangling to one side for a moment and concentrate on the phone records?" Steve asked, his voice a little louder and harsher than he intended.

With that Jensen explained that he had cross referenced the phone records from the 3 victims and found a few things that were puzzling. The first one being that 2 hours or so before the stated times of death all 3 men received a call. Whilst everyone agreed this was far too much of a co-incidence to be purely innocent, the unfortunate news was that they were from 3 different numbers. All pre-paid burners.

“So no point in trying to trace any of them?” Clint asked.

“Well if you get me a warrant I can have a trace and monitor set up on the numbers” he said, “If they do get used again, we’ll know about it…but chances are slim”

“No offence, but what exactly are you doing here?” Bucky frowned “Surely you could have told us this on the phone?”

He saw Katie smirk but Jensen completely ignored him and instead turned to Natasha.  “You asked me to look at anything unusual…contacts in common that type of thing…” Natasha nodded.

“Well it’s your lucky day.” he smiles “seems that all 3 of our victims knew each other…” At that Katie instantly perked up “all 3…you got us a link to Ross?”

“That I did gorgeous.” he smiled and Bucky heard Steve exhale loudly. He nudged the Captain gently in the ribs as a warning to chill out as Jensen continued “So it turns out that about 10 minutes after getting the call from our mystery number, Ross called Sitwell. The call lasted for about 5 minutes… and then Ross called a different number which, unfortunately, was also a prepaid service that I can’t trace.”

Steve watched Katie jot something down on her pad of paper as Jensen continued to talk.

“However, when I cross referenced that new number to Sitwell’s records turns out he made a number of calls to it too, over roughly a month’s period…”

“Dates?” Katie looked at him. Jensen slid over the printed phone records which she picked up and looked at the lines which he had highlighted.  “The month between Ross’ body turning up, and his…”

“And Schmidt also called and text the number several times over a week too…” Jensen said as he once again slid a pile of paper over to her and Katie picked it up “Specifically the week before his death.” Bucky looked at her “That’s your link. That’s proof that the 3 of them had something or someone in common…”

“Doesn’t prove that it’s Rumlow…” Katie said, chewing on her lip

“So that’s the phone records….” Jake said “Like I said, if you get me a warrant I can arrange to have all the numbers monitored, so the next time any of them are used we’ll be able to track and trace via GPS…” “Ok.” Steve nodded “Nat, can you get the paper work drawn up and we’ll get it out to Judge Hill ASAP.”

“Now, do you want the really interesting discovery Baby-cakes?” Jake winked at Katie and Steve rolled his eyes. The guy was a fucking nightmare. Katie merely arched an eyebrow at him and gestured for him to carry on.

“Ross also received a MMS from our mystery man…a photo…” He pulled a piece of paper out of the file in front of him and took a deep breath “Now be warned, it’s fucked up…”

“I’ll take it.” Steve instructed. Jensen nodded and handed it to him. Steve glanced down at it before his mouth dropped open and he gave a disgusted snort before he handed it to Bucky.

It as a picture of Ross…or more specifically a picture of Ross…

“Fucking a goat!?” Bucky spluttered, his mouth hanging open before his face scrunched up in disgust, “What the hell…” “I warned you.” Jensen said, as Bucky grimaced, handing it to Katie. She instantly recoiled in horror before slamming the photo face down on the table. Natasha reached for it, turned it over and arched an eyebrow as Clint leaned closer.

“Well I guess that solves the issue of where the hair came from…” Clint shrugged.

“Was there a message with it, or just the photo?” Steve looked at Jensen.

“It was accompanied with the words ‘I’ve still got copies of this don’t forget. So I suggest you think twice about blowing the whistle…do what he wants.” Jensen said, sliding another piece of paper over the table.

“Someone’s been blackmailing him…” Natasha said, looking up.

“Well, that’s for you to say, not me.” Jensen said “I’m just the techy genius…but if you want my opinion, then yeah.” “There was nothing unusual on Ross’ bank accounts.” Katie frowned before her mouth dropped open and she looked up at Steve who felt that sudden rush wash over him, the one when a piece of the jigsaw dropped into place.

“The Animal Food Company…” he said, striding over to the wall where all the paper evidence they had was tacked. He pulled the item he was looking for down and handed it to Jensen. “Green Bale Animal Feeds…we marked this for further investigation, but didn’t think it was particularly relevant…”

“You got a warrant for this or…” Jensen looked at him.

Steve nodded, before he hesitated a second “Well, we have a warrant to search all three victim’s banking transactions…”

“That’s good enough.” Jensen said “I can trace the account and find out who it belongs to. Give me a few hours…I’m free this afternoon so I’ll stay here and work it live if that’s ok, but I’ll need access to another computer, it’s hard work trying to run a trace on just one laptop.”

"All right, everybody get back to work. And, Bucky..." Steve said turning to look at him "...get Jensen a desk and another computer."

Bucky turned to look at Steve as Jensen gathered his things and the rest of the team started to make their way out of the briefing room. Steve could see he was clearly annoyed.

"Why me?" Bucky mouthed.

"Do I have to explain it to you?" Steve whispered, raising both eyebrows and nodding his head in the direction of Jensen, who was now chasing Katie out of the room.

Bucky groaned and followed them without giving much of a reply to Steve.  He caught up with Jensen, who was showing some pictures of his niece he had on his phone to Katie, and slapped him on the back.

"Come on, pal. Follow me, we'll get you a desk." Bucky told the man.

Jensen shrugged and winked at Katie before following Bucky to his own desk so that he could leave the case files Steve had ordered him to revise.

Bucky started looking up in the station's intranet the availability of a spare room with a computer in it. He wanted to get rid of the annoying man's presence and keep him away from Katie. And he cursed internally when he saw it wouldn't be easy as the only room with a computer available was the incident room and he didn't want anyone outside the team seeing their conclusions and thoughts on the case.

He was thinking about getting him a spare laptop and leaving him in the briefing room when he lifted his head only to see Jensen observing Dot with curiosity.

"Is that a llama?" Jensen asked.

Katie's roar of laughter could be heard from Manhattan and it made Wanda raise her head from the book she was reading and look at her mischievously. Steve, hearing her loud noises of glee peeked his head out of his office door, finding Katie sprawled out on her chair, her head laid back and her chest raising and lowering with laughter. Steve decided to ignore the fuss in the main office before the sight of Katie's cleavage and breasts bouncing got him in an awkward position.

"Shut up, Stark." Bucky roared.

"Thank you for that, Jensen." Clint quipped, snorting.

"She says Dot looks like a llama." Bucky explained to Jensen who was looking around the office clueless as to why Katie was howling.

"Oh. I get it. Dot, not a llama. Cool" Jensen said raising his thumbs up as a way of apology.

"Don't worry. Sam says it's a cat." Bucky deadpanned.

"You know that cats can make a thousand different sounds and dogs can only make ten?" Jensen asked Bucky who looked at him baffled. "Cats. Not to be trusted." he continued as a way of explanation.

"Whatever. It's not a dog either. Dot is a goat." Bucky said starting to walk towards the supplies room, signalling for Jensen to follow him.

"Ouch. Sorry to hear that man. You must be upset about that photo. Are you? I mean that guy... Ross, was it? He did weird stuff to goats. Anal stuff." Jensen continued rambling walking behind Bucky.

"Don't you ever shut up?" Bucky asked turning to look at him before opening the room of the supplies room to look for a goddamned laptop so that he could get rid of the man for a while

******

To his credit, annoying little spiky haired jerk he might be, Bucky had to concede that Jensen knew his shit. By the end of the day he had revealed that the Company the bank was set up in the name of didn’t exist.  The bank had been set up in Switzerland, and the name attached to it was a Mr Paul Ross. Clint made a comment about what a dumbass Ross was, as it wasn’t really covering his tracks, but Natasha pointed out that unless someone really went digging, it would look on the surface of it to be a simple transaction.  Katie then snorted and said that she didn’t care what a dumbass Ross was, because it worked for them.

Jensen also discovered evidence of several cash deposits of $9,000 into the suspicious account the very day after Rumlow’s arrest. Unfortunately, as Jensen pointed out, they were untraceable as you don’t need to supply a name or ID to deposit under $10,000, so unless they could get the bank CCTV, which Bucky pointed out was a no go as they wouldn’t have kept it that long, they were none-the wiser. What they did know, however, was that the cash was then withdrawn in quarters every 6 months for the next 2 years by Ross.

Whilst there was still nothing to link the transactions to Rumlow, or indeed the other 2 victims, it was certainly more of a lead than they had that morning when they started.

"So, I believe that my work here is done…" Jensen announced, as he shut the spare lap top down. He turned to Katie as she stood up from the chair she had been in as they had all crowded round Bucky’s desk. “Fancy catching up over a beer, princess? For old times' sake?"

Bucky could tell the man was trying to sound as casual as possible after his failed attempts with Natasha earlier that morning.

"Thanks for the offer, Jake." Katie said and scrunched her nose before adding "But actually, I'm seeing someone."

"Oh. That's...." he hesitated “Good for you."

Bucky shook his head, he was feeling embarrassed for the man. He then noticed Wanda was watching the exchange like a crow perched on a tree branch. Bucky had seen her eyes shine with excitement when Katie had confessed she was seeing someone. If she only knew it wasn't Storm. He had even spotted the exact moment she realized Katie and Jensen had been a thing in the past and he hadn't liked the expression on her face. Sometimes being a well-trained detective was a pain in the ass.

"Why don't you ask Wanda?" Katie offered Jensen, her voice raising, as her honed investigative skills had clearly also led to her realising they were being watched. "She has a thing for throwing herself at my past partners..." she added as nonchalantly as possible as she knew that would rile Wanda up.

Ok, so that's payback for earlier Bucky thought, fighting back a smirk. Typical Katie, chill and wait for the right time to strike back. He would be lying if he said he wasn't proud of her.

"Maybe another time." Jensen said looking at Wanda and then at Katie "Tell Captain Rogers I said goodbye." he added before saying his farewells to the rest of the team and heading out.

"So, you and Jake?" Wanda asked Katie no sooner was he out of sight.

"Oh. So it's Jake now?" Katie asked as he typed on her computer ignoring her.

But Wanda wasn't gonna let sleeping dogs lie. She was determined to make the dogs bite. Bucky could tell so he discreetly took his phone and texted Steve.

CODE RED.

"Looks like you've made your way through all of New York.” Wanda continued scathingly.

"Nope, only Boston." Katie bit back as chilly as possible, though she was visibly getting annoyed at having to discuss her love life with Wanda.

"And Africa and Hong Kong." Bucky quipped trying to attract Katie's raising rage against himself.

Come on, Steve. Look at your phone, punk!  he thought.

"Yeah, cheers Bucky." Katie snorted when she heard Clint and Natasha sniggering.

"How do you keep track of them? You put pins in a world map?" Wanda asked, arms crossed narrowing her eyes at Katie.

"Listen you little..." Katie started to growl standing up from her chair, but no sooner had she done that Steve’s voice rang out across the main room.

"What the hell is happening here?” he boomed and everyone went silent. Bucky watched as his eyes roved from Wanda to Katie and then back again.

"Wanda. I need you to pull the file for me on the Simpson case so I can review it before Court tomorrow, then you can go home." he said hastily before turning to Natasha and Clint.

"Barton and Romanoff, you can go as well. Good work today." to which they nodded and started getting ready to leave.

"Barnes and Stark, briefing room. Before you go I need you to take me through what Jensen found." he finished, and Bucky noticed the worried expression he looked at Katie with.

"I need to go to the restroom, if that's ok. I'll meet you there in 10." Katie said and shook her head to appease Steve's concern as she walked past him.

Steve looked at Bucky who only glared at him. "I told you we had to talk, punk."

“Later…” Steve grumbled back, before he headed towards the kitchen

Just over half an hour later Bucky, Steve and Katie were in the incident room running over what they had learned.

Steve rubbed at his eyes underneath his glasses. He hadn’t had to wear these for a while, but today he’d had that dull threatening ache associated with tired eyes. Jensen being there pretty much all day hadn’t helped either. Whilst he hadn’t done anything more than simply being Jensen, there was something about how the spikey-haired techy bastard had been looking at Katie that had rubbed him up the wrong way today.

He watched as Katie stood looking at a print out from Jensen that they had tacked to the wall- the wording attached to the horrific goat violating photo. He could tell she was mulling things over, her teeth worrying her lip.

“What is it?” he asked her softly and Bucky glanced up from where he had been making notes on some of the other sheets of evidence to see Steve was stood watching Katie intently.

“The wording on the text…do what he wants, not pay what he wants…” Katie frowned.

“What about it?” Steve asked.

“Well, that sounds to me like the blackmail Ross was being subjected to wasn’t him paying monies…it was to do something…something specific…”

Steve waited as she began pacing in front of the board, a thing she always did when her mind was ticking 10 to the dozen. Suddenly she stopped and looked at him, then Bucky…

“Ok, so, this…it’s a wild one, and a really wild one but I always thought there was something off about the way Sitwell just appeared…what if he was paid to give Rumlow an alibi?”

“By Ross?” Steve frowned, folding his arms.

Katie nodded “But on behalf of someone else. Perfect way to keep yourself out of it, blackmail someone else into doing it for you.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance. “It’s a stretch…” Bucky said after a pause “A real stretch…”

“I know, and probably a load of bullshit too.” Katie said, “But, like witchy out there said…profiling and Detective work is just fucking theoretical until the evidence backs us up isn’t it?”

Steve paused again. It was a long shot, a real long shot but he knew Katie had a sharp mind, and this was what he had brought her back from DC for in the first place. What did they have to lose by following it up?

“Ok, I think that we need to make arrangements to talk to Rumlow.” Steve said. “I’ll get Clint onto it first thing tomorrow and I’ll call Fury. In the mean-time I suggest we call it a day. It’s getting late.” “I’ve got a few things to do first.” Katie nodded “I’ve still not tracked Sarah Klein down so…” “Ok, well, once you’ve done that go home.” Steve looked at her softly, “And that’s an order. It’s been a long day.” She smiled at him and stood on her toes to gently peck him on the cheek.

“Love you.” she said softly before she left the room.

"You reckon this is a good moment to talk." Bucky asked Steve once Katie was out of earshot.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. If truth be told he wanted to do anything but, however he knew if Bucky was pressing it had to be serious.

"Wanda is a pain in the ass. She's being a total bitch to Katie. She has no regard whatsoever for hierarchy." Bucky ranted and Steve sighed.

"That bad, huh."

"Worse, pal. I talked to Natasha. She says Wanda is so chill with you ‘coz she thinks you only turned her down because everyone from work was there and you wouldn’t want anyone to know. Which is funny in a way if you think of it."  Bucky scoffed.

"Fuck." Steve groaned, hands dropping to his hips.

"Fuck indeed. She's delusional man and that makes her dangerous. If she susses you're with Katie, the whole thing is going to blow on your face." Bucky paced the room.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. That damned head ache wasn't merely a threat anymore. His eye sockets were pounding.

"What should I do? Shall I speak with Wanda to get things clear?" Steve asked more to himself than to his friend.

"I think you should stay away from her. And if she makes another move then talk to her. But never, ever tell her it's because you're seeing someone. She already thinks Katie is with Storm and has had her fair share of fun bickering at her about Jensen too. Let her believe what she wants to believe for now." Bucky explained.

"Yeah. You're probably right." Steve mused before he took a deep breath "You know, now you mention Storm….I’ve had have this feeling on the pit of my stomach all day. I mean, Katie's exes or whatever have never bothered me that much before, but today, I don’t know what it is but Jensen…"

"That's jealousy, because she's your girl." Bucky said and smiled at him.

Steve laughed shaking his head, getting what his friend had just said.

"What? No She's not my girl now?" Bucky chuckled before leaving the room.

******

Steve pushed his glasses up from where they had slid down his nose as he was bent too close to his laptop screen, which was probably why his headache hadn’t improved yet despite taking painkillers.  After talking to Bucky before, he had decided he needed to sort out taking Katie on a date, and he had spent the last half an hour pondering where to go. It was definitely going to be Manhattan as they had less chance of being spotted, meaning maybe they could simply walk down the street hand in hand. He’d promised Katie a meal, few drinks…but as he sat there and glanced at the screen on his computer he was suddenly hit with a much better idea…that is, if there was still availability. Sitting up straight he pulled his laptop further towards him and opened up the web-browser. After about 10 minutes or so, a huge smile spread across the Captain’s face as clearly the God’s were shining down on him, or lady luck was on his side, whichever it was he didn’t care. He completed his purchase then pulled up the next page he needed and finalised his plans.

“Not bad Rogers…” Steve praised himself, sitting back in his chair, a little smug that he’d not only had the idea but was going to actually be able to pull it of…

“What are you looking so pleased with yourself about?”  Steve looked up and saw Katie leaning in the doorway to his office.

“Hey Sweetheart.” he watched her for a second. “You get what you needed to do, done?”

“Sort of. I didn’t manage to speak to Sarah Klein, but I did track her down. She no longer lives in the area." Katie said, stepping into the room, closing the door behind her "Apparently, after she dropped the charges she headed back to Germany. Packed up and just went..." her arms dropped to her side. “I left her a message to call me when she can but…”

"Well, at least we know she's safe."

“I've had Clint start making the arrangements to get us an audience with Rumlow...not that he's gonna give us anything but, well, right now it's as good a shot as we're gonna get." she said, walking towards him. With a gentle movement she straddled him on his chair and his hands automatically fell to her hips as she studied him for a moment.

"You ok?" she asked as she dropped a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Yeah…” he said, leaning back in his chair. She eyed him suspiciously and he sighed “No, not really. If I’m being honest, Jensen before, the way he was with you…oh, which reminds me…what did Storm want?” “Johnny?” she frowned, “How did you know-“ “Wanda.” “Bitch.” she glowered, “It’s none of her business.” “No, but its mine.” he pressed “What did he want?” “Nothing, just to check I was ok after I ran out on him Friday.” she looked at Steve “Are you jealous?” she finished, her mouth curling into a grin.

Steve shot her a look to tell her he wasn’t in the mood for games and to her credit she looked suitably contrite and sighed softly, simply looking at him for a moment.

“Do you know how good you look with these on?” she said, pointing to his glasses, her finger tracing a circle in the air in front of his nose

“It’s not something I think about on a regular basis, no.” he smiled softly “They simply serve a purpose…” “I’ll say…” she muttered, gently moving both her hands up to gently pull them off his face. “You know, I don't know why GQ bother with their sexiest men polls…blatantly obvious I got him right here..."

He rolled his eyes but a smirk tugged at his mouth. ““Flattery will get you everywhere” he grinned as she pressed her lips to his giving him a deep kiss.

“Good to know.” she muttered against his mouth as she pulled away.

“So…” he said, his hands sliding down from her hips to smooth up the outside of her thighs, Storm and Jensen forgotten seeing as she was straddling his lap and clearly after something, that he was seriously considering giving her right there and then “What you doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I owe you a date” he said with a smile

“Yeah, you do.” she agreed before she quirked an eyebrow “Where you taking me?”

“Surprise.” he said, grinning to himself. There was no way he was telling her what he had in store, not least because she’d be like a total kid all day if he did. “But we need to be in Manhattan for 6:30 latest so I suggest we go straight from here for the Subway.”

“Interesting…” she pondered “you gonna give me a clue?”

“Nope.” he shook his head, grinning as she pouted at him.

“Not even a little one.” “No, so you can stop asking me.” “What do I need to wear?” she asked, looking at him with a smirk “You gotta tell me that at least.”

“Smart casual is fine.” he said, smirking again as she frowned, clearly hoping that the dress code would have helped her get some idea as to where it was they were going. “Just, let me surprise you, please, no digging or detective work.”

“Ok.” she agreed after a pause. “You win.” “Sorry, say that again…”

“You heard me.” she teased, her hands resting on his shoulders whilst his gently moved from her legs to her hips

“You coming home with me tonight?” he asked her softly.

She groaned “I really want to but I need to go home. Tony’s done nothing but bitch and moan at me either in person or on the phone all day about where I’ve been.” she looked down and Steve was surprised to find she looked a little upset, forlorn even. “It fucking sucks, living with my brother after having had my own place for so long. He actually told me before he was gonna give me a curfew, I mean…”

“You know if you want, only if you want…” Steve said, tilting his face up to look at him “You can come stay with me. At least until the case is done and then, well…” He let the sentence drop for two reasons. One, he didn’t want to make her feel obliged and two, they hadn’t decided what was going to happen post the case. Whether she would return to DC for the rest of her secondment or stay. Neither of them had thought that far. Steve knew which one he wanted, but he also wasn’t going to push her either way. That was her decision.

“Yeah that’s gonna look really good that Stevie!” she shook her head “In a bit Tone, moving in with Captain Bad Ass who’s guts you think I hate…”

Steve observed her for a moment as she dropped her eyes again “I hate this.” “What?”

“Having to keep this on the low…” Steve sighed and reached up to brush the longer side of her hair behind her ears. “It’s only until this case is sorted…” “The rate it’s going that could be months.”  

“Ok, well how about…” he asked, his right hand gently cupping her cheek “If it goes on past another month we’ll come clean.” “And I’ll get taken off the case.” she groaned.

“Throw me a bone here Doll…” Steve’s tone was equally as exasperated “I’m trying to come up with some form of solution.”

“I know, sorry…” she said, leaning forward and giving him another soft kiss before she pressed into him, forehead on his chest and he rest his chin on her hair. He pondered something for a moment, before he had an idea that might make it a little easier, certainly out of work anyway.

“Come clean to Tony.” he said, and he felt her still slightly as his hand softly ran up and down her back. “He won’t rat us out, he’s your brother and won’t want you to get in any trouble.” “Suppose not.” she mused, before she pulled back again slightly so she could look at him “You do realise that he’s gonna hit the roof.” “Yeah, and I’m expecting he will threaten to murder me in my sleep or something to that effect.” Steve shrugged “What else is new?”

Katie chuckled slightly, he hands sliding up his chest before they came to rest on his shoulders and she gave a gently squeeze. Steve gave a soft sigh of satisfaction, cracking his neck slightly as she began to work at the muscles softly whilst he sat still.

"God your shoulders are so knotty." she mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side and cracked an eye open to look at her.

“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night…” he quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.

“I’ll say…” she grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth is actually illegal in several countries.” “Which is part of the reason I’m so glad we live where we do…” he said, voice low as he felt himself relax under her touch and she carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment as his hands gently flexed on her hips, his eyes closing again.

Fuck this was heaven.

"You know, when all this is done…we should go away.” Katie spoke, rousing him a little.

“Anywhere in mind?”

“Always wanted to go to Italy.” she said, “Although I wouldn’t say no to a trip to Disney Land either, but the on in California…never been before.” “Running around a Theme Park all day isn’t exactly relaxing…” he opened his eyes and arched his brow at her.

“No, but it would be fun.” she said, “And we can have a few days at the beach or by the pool…” “Yeah, maybe.” he said, noncommittedly. “Not really my scene Doll…”

“Reckon I can convince you otherwise…” she grinned cheekily.

“Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that?” he looked at her, the flash in her eyes evident and he felt the familiar pull of desire in his stomach.

“Reckon I can think of a few ways……” she said slyly, as one of her hands slid from his shoulder around the back of his head to tangle in his hair and she used it to pull him forward to connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately bringing his hands up to wrap around her back and pull her closer. He groaned involuntarily when her tongue touched his and his hands moved down, gently squeezing at her ass.

“Convinced yet…?” she murmured.

“Not exactly the word I would use…” he raised an eyebrow.

She grinned back and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, tipping his head back as she kissed him harder, pushing down again. He raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and it was her turn to groan as he pushed harder, rubbing harder. His hands were now firmly holding her hips, sitting just under the hem of her top and his mouth moved to cover the spot under her ear that he knew drove her to distraction. She tilted her head to the side as he trailed kisses down her neck, across her jaw until his mouth caught her lips again.

“Baby…” he muttered softly “This is only gonna end one way if we don’t stop.” She sighed and dropped her head softly, resting it against his “I know, I know…sorry.”

Her movements stopped and he felt her breathing even out and she took a deep breath before her hands slid to his arms. She gave his biceps a soft rub before she moved to stand up. “I should go.” Steve hated this. He hated the fact they had to sneak around. He watched her for a second as she stood up and smoothed her top down before something inside him snapped.

“Fuck this…” he muttered, and in a swoop he was on his feet. She gave a surprised squeak as pushed her back against the desk, forcing her to sit down with a thump. With a hasty move of his arm he pushed everything to one side, vaguely aware that paper and pens and fuck knows what else were sent flying as he kissed her, fiercely, his hands roving under her top.

“I don’t know what’s got into you…” she said, her voice raspy as he moved his attention to her ear, her hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt “But I like it…” “Yeah, well, give me a minute and I’ll get into you…” he said as he swatted her hands away and quickly undid his belt and his flies himself. She gave a snort of a laugh as he moved to undo her jeans. She lifted her hips slightly, allowing him to pull them down as far as her boots would allow, which wasn’t far enough. Giving a curse he dropped to his knees, slid the zips down on each before he tossed them aside, pulling her jeans off in a movement so fast he was almost a blur. He stood up quickly and pushed her shoulders back so she was led flat on the desk. Shoving his jeans down over his hips, he grabbed at her knees, pulling her legs apart and sliding her towards him. In a swift movement he was buried inside her, both of them letting out a groan as he began to move, setting a fast hard pace. Her hands flew to the side, more stationery flying off the desk but neither paid it any attention, his thrusts deep, fast, hard.

“Fuck…” he heard her groan, as he pounded into her over and over. “Steve…”

“God you feel so good…” he mumbled, unable to articulate much else. Up until now their sex had been fairly tame to date. Amazing, yes, but this…this was carnal, the frustration of the day and the situation had been simply too much for the pair of them. But he wanted to slow down, love his girl, he really did, so he summonsed every bit of self -control he had and taking a deep breath he slackened his pace slightly, and rolled his hips deliberately making her cry out softly. He reached down and hooked his arms around her, pulling her up so she was facing him, wrapping one of her legs round his waist as he continued to grind into her. Her head dropped back, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

“Don’t stop…” she pleaded, looking back up at him “Please Captain…” Fuck, that word…her saying it in such a way did things to him that, frankly, nothing else could and he began to pick his pace up again slightly as her hands flew around to his back, clawing at him, fisting into his shirt. It wasn’t long before he felt the tell-tale flutters of her tightening around him.

“Come on doll…” he groaned “Come for me…come on…”

“Fuck…Stevie…I’m…” she gasped she let out a low moan, that was almost a growl, a noise he’d never heard from her before, a primal, raw lament as her hands tightened their grip, her legs spasmed and her head tipped back again before she collapsed forward, her head on his shoulders.

“Shit, Doll…” he groaned, and with a final few sloppy thrusts he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts slowing to a stop, the force of his own release leaving him clinging to her like his life depended on it.

***** Bucky shuffled some papers that were scattered over his desk, looking for his phone. He had already been half way home when he noticed he had left it at the station. He found it under a folder, no wonder he hadn't seen it before leaving for home. But then again it had been a demanding day and the sight of Ross fucking a poor, innocent goat was still haunting his mind. What kind of degenerate could do that to a goat? Cows existed for a reason, right?

He turned to go but stopped, frowning as he realised there was light on Steve's office which he hadn’t noticed when he had walked back in before. Mind you, the blinds on his office window were closed, they been all day, he was sure of that. But still he could see a beam of light sifting under the door.

Typical Steve move, he thought, send everyone home while he stayed late finishing whatever reports he had to send Fury the following day, or as he suspected in this case, reading over the case notes for his Court appearance tomorrow. Bucky had hoped the accident would teach his friend something but apparently it hadn't. Still, he had his hopes on Katie's influence now.

He approached Steve's office to tell him he was back but heading out again and, while he was at it, force him to call it a day and go get some rest. It had been an exhausting day for his friend too.

He was about to knock on the door when he heard Steve. At first, he thought he was talking to someone on the phone and he had his other hand already over the door handle when he froze in his spot.

"Come on doll. Come for me... come on..."

Bucky heard Steve groan. He closed his eyes and grimaced. Was Steve having phone sex?

"Fuck....Stevie... I'm..."

Oh holy Jesus fucking Christ!.  Nope. Katie wasn't on the other side of the phone line. She was right there with Steve, probably under him actually…

“No, no, no Buck, stop thinking those things!” He mumbled to himself before fleeing the office as fast as he could, scarred for life, vowing mentally never to touch anything in Steve’s office ever again…

[wkemeup]

The Witness (7)

series summary: After witnessing a Hydra hit and the handsome, borderline endearing cop who had become a regular at your bar takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

pairing: detective!bucky x reader

word count: 7.2k

warnings: angst (some fluff) angst angst SMUT (18+) 

series masterlist // previous chapter

author’s note: thank you for all the love on the last part! buckle up my friends!! 

Nothing was the same again after that night. Bucky had insisted you move into his flat for the time being, concerned that staying at your apartment was too easy of an access point to you if, and when, Rumlow put the pieces together. He had helped you gather a suitcase of clothes, toiletries, and several books from the shelf you had bought in the years past but never got around to reading. Free time wouldn’t be as sparse as it used to be now that you’d be closing the bar.

Bucky had expected a fight, had even prepared a few different angles of argument in advance, but you conceded easily. The very idea of stepping foot back in that bar made your stomach sick and that you hated more than almost anything else. The bar was supposed to be your home, your safe haven. Those assholes took that from you.

Meanwhile, Bucky had taken the liberty to tack a sign to the door, telling your patrons you’d gone traveling for a while but you’d be back soon. You hoped it wasn’t entirely a lie.

You spent most of your time curled up on Bucky’s couch, reading or watching a new tv series you had been meaning to get to as Bucky sat at the table in the kitchen, hunched over his laptop through the late hours of the night typing furiously at the keys. Steve had given him leave for the last week while he helped you get settled until they could come up with a better plan. It didn’t stop Bucky from pursuing every lead he could from behind the computer.

It was laughable to think you had felt suffocated with how much Bucky was doting over you before your run-in with Rumlow. Now, the very idea of being outside of the same room as him made you weak with anxiety, even when he started to keep himself at a painful distance.

You stole a glance at him over the top of your book. Bucky was seated in his usual spot at the kitchen table, illuminated only by the light of his laptop screen as the hours passed by since the sun set and he had failed to turn on the overhead light. You sighed, setting your book down on your knees. You had been scanning the last page over three times and had yet to retain a word, anyway.

“Hey Buck,” you called, leaning your head against the back of the couch. His eyes flashed up at you briefly before he returned to the computer. “Think you might want to eat something? I could heat up the leftover takeout you ordered for me?”

Bucky paused, the endless clicking of the keys silencing for a moment. “I’m alright, doll. Thanks.”

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet and it’s almost eleven,” you pressed, pulled out your necklace from under your shirt and twisting the pendent nervously between your fingers. You slid your legs out from under the blanket and paced over to the kitchen. You clicked the light on and Bucky flinched. Once you were close enough, you set a hand on his shoulder, bending over to kiss the crown of his head. “I know you’re working, but I need you to eat. For me?”

He didn’t look up from his screen, but a quick glance down and you could tell he was still diving into the police database, Rumlow’s most recent mug shot in the top right corner of the screen. Bucky’s hand reached up to rest on top of yours. He gave it a light squeeze.

“Just for you, okay?” he conceded lightly, forcing out a tight smile.

Then, he let his hand fall away and you found that you missed the touch instantly. In the week since you moved into Bucky’s apartment, neither of you spoke about the glimpse of a night you shared, but it was clear something had changed. Bucky was quieter, more reserved, and he kept to himself unless it was you that initiated the contact. He was sure to keep a distance between you in the rare moments when he agreed to step away from the computer long enough to watch a movie. He still struggled to meet your eye on most occasions.

Somewhere along the line, you had grown to know and understand Bucky better than most, and you knew that his sudden withdrawal had little to do with the way he touched you that night.

It was because he was a man who carried the burden of a guilt so strong it was suffocating him, wrapping tight around his self-doubt and misplaced blame until it stole the air from his lungs. Nothing you said seemed to lessen the load. He’d just smile softly and nod, thank you again for your selfless forgiveness and change the subject.

He tried to mask how much he was torturing himself for not being there when Rumlow walked into your bar. He kept himself from you, withholding against every instinct that begged him otherwise, and put up walls and barriers between you. He didn’t realize it was hurting you and much as it hurt him.

You threw the leftover Indian food in a bowl and stuck in the microwave. Bucky would barely touch it. You knew as much, but at least he’d get a few bites in. He’d do it to appease you, anyway.

Once the microwave beeped, you pulled the warmed rice and chicken from under the steaming lid and carried it over to the table. You sat it down next to his laptop and he didn’t so much as look at it. He was too focused on his screen.

“It’s good, Buck. You’ll like it,” you said as you sat down next to him. You leaned your elbows on the table, watching as he typed away at the keyboard. You sighed, and slumped back in your chair. Bucky must have noticed your disappointment and he reached for the spoon, taking a quick bite.

“It’s perfect, Y/n,” he replied, forcing out a smile as he chewed. “Thank you.”

You nodded and stood back up, making your way back to the couch. You grabbed the book from the cushion. “I’m going to head to bed,” you called softly over your shoulder.

“Okay, doll,” Bucky said, pausing his typing to watch as you dragged the blanket alongside you towards his room. “Goodnight.”

“Don’t work too long, alright?” you asked of him, leaning against the door frame. “Try to get some sleep tonight, at least. That file can wait until morning.”

“I’ll do my best,” he assured you.

You fell asleep to the gentle clicks of his keyboard, carrying on through the early hours of the morning.

***

You woke the following morning to voices whispering in the kitchen. Rubbing at your eyes, you patted the side of the bed, searching for your phone. The screen illuminated and you squinted to avoid the influx of light to your eyes. It was nearing ten o’clock already. Light seeped in through the blinds in the window on the other side of the room and birds chipped just beyond the glass.  

“We’ve had a warrant out for his arrest for a week, Buck, what else do you want us to do?” A voice questioned suddenly, muffled by the bedroom door. Steve, it sounded like.

“More,” the voice you quickly recognized as Bucky groaned.

“Listen man,” the cadence of the tone easily gave it away as Sam, “I know being cooped up here is hard but-“

“Hard?” Bucky scoffed and you could practically picture the glare he was likely throwing in Sam’s direction. Kicking the blankets down the bed, you swung your legs over the side of the mattress and pulled yourself to your feet.

“You think I’m on you about tracking down Rumlow because this is hard?” Bucky continued and you pictured the way he would start chewing on the inside of his lip cheek when he became upset. “Every day we don’t have him in custody, Y/n’s life is in danger! Every second we fail to nail that asshole, he could be learning her identity! This is beyond hard, Wilson! This is a whole other fucking level!”

An understanding sigh, “I know, Buck, but-“

“No, Wilson. You don’t know!” Bucky shouted and a chair squeaked as he must have kicked it out from under him. You threw on a sweatshirt and quickly tied your unruly hair up into a bun.

Pacing of footsteps down the hall, back and forth, and you could only imagine Bucky raking his hands through his hair, the frustration boiling in his skin so hot he could hardly stand it. The pacing ceased but not before the sound of a fist slamming against the wall startled you enough to make you flinch.

“You don’t know shit, Sam. Either of you!” Bucky snapped and you could hear the panting in his voice. “You have no fucking idea what it’s like! To constantly be worried that something’s going to go wrong! To have to watch someone you love be targeted by the deadliest, most powerful criminal organization this city’s ever seen! You’ve never had to-- to deal with that dread, that fucking paralyzing fear, that you’re going to mess up again and this time she won’t live long enough to just blindly forgive you!”

You clasped your hand over your mouth, recoiling your fingers from the doorknob.

Someone you love.

Another chair skidded on the tile floor. “I know how much you care for her Buck,” Steve said carefully. “Take a seat, alright? We’ve got everyone on this case. Nothing is slipping by without us knowing.”

A long pause, the scuffle of feet, and then, “Sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to--“

“Already forgotten, partner.”

Without giving yourself the time to hesitate, you opened the bedroom door and strolled down the hallway to the kitchen. The three men turned abruptly in your direction as you walked in and headed straight for the cereal boxes on top of the fridge, acting as though you hadn’t heard their argument.  

“Good morning, Y/n,” Steve smiled, pulling out the empty chair for you between him and Sam. You waved with your free hand and grabbed a clean bowl and spoon from beside the sink. You plopped into the chair and sent a wink at Sam as he nudged your arm. None of them seemed the wiser and no one was intent on filling you in.  

“Sleep alright, doll?” Bucky asked gently, though you could still make out the strain in his voice. You looked up at him as you poured the cereal, taking in the sunken look under his eyes and the flush of redness in his cheeks. He hadn’t been sleeping well in the last week. Your eyes glanced over to the couch where he insisted he stay despite your protests, blankets and pillows still tossed over the cushions like he had been fumbling against them in the few hours he gave himself time to rest. You gave him a slight nod, hoping to ease his constant worry.

“We should get going,” Steve said, pushing his chair out from the table. Sam scowled as Steve gestured for him to follow.

“Yeah, I guess we’re leaving then,” Sam grumbled and he climbed out of his chair rather dramatically. He bent over and gave you a one-armed hug as you shoved a spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“I brought you the tomato sauce and homemade linguine from the Italian grocery store Bucky said you’d been craving,” Steve smiled, nodding to the bags of groceries he must have brought in this morning.

You glanced over at Bucky with wide eyes, not having realized he had made the request to Steve for you. You didn’t even know he had heard you mention that. It was an off handed comment you had grumbled to yourself during a commercial for Olive Garden about how you could make a better looking bolognaise if only you’d had access to that small family run convenience store in Little Italy. Bucky had been sitting over in the kitchen on his laptop at the time. Maybe he paid more attention than he let on.

You smiled at him sweetly, almost sadly, like you had been missing him. He returned it, only a glimpse of the smile you were so fond of, before he let it fade away.

“Nat will be by around nine tonight, that work for you?” Steve said over his shoulder as he headed towards the door.  

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine. Thanks,” Bucky stuttered, eyes falling away from yours as you raised an eyebrow at him. With that, Steve and Sam left through the front door and closed the door behind them.

“What’s happening at nine?” you asked more casually than you felt, taking another bite of cereal.

Bucky sighed, clearly considering lying to you for a moment before his judgement got the best of him. “I have an old informant I want to meet up with. He might have some info on Rumlow’s whereabouts.”  

Your heart skipped a beat. “By yourself?”

“This guy won’t trust me if I’m not,” Bucky replied gently, noticing the flicker of nerves in your voice. “I’ll be fine, Y/n. It’s part of my job to make friends with these guys.”

“You can’t bring Sam with you?” you tried to reason but Bucky shook his head.

“Sam’ll scare him away with his loud mouth,” Bucky teased, enough to get you to laugh. It had been a while since he’d done that. You smiled as you took another bite. “Nat said she was going to bring over some kind of Russian chocolate and some kind of soviet spy movie. You’ll have fun and forget all about me.”

He had said it with a laugh, like he had meant it in a playful way, but you knew part of him really did believe that you could forget him easily. You swallowed, setting the spoon in your empty bowl.

“I’ll always worry about you, Buck,” you said softly, truthfully. “Promise me you’ll come home safe tonight?”

A flash of surprise etched over Bucky’s features, though he nodded. He gave you a nervous smile before he grabbed your bowl and began to wash it in the sink. You watched him curiously as he dried it and bustled off to find his laptop in the living room. You wondered what had made him so flustered until you realized what you had said.

You called his apartment ‘home.’

***

Truthfully, you had always enjoyed Natasha’s company. She had the kind hardened exterior that normally would have scared you off before you had given yourself the chance to know her, but under it all she was incredibly kind, empathetic, and a lot funnier than she let on. Her humor was subtle, enough so that you had to pay attention to catch her mumble a witty retort under her breath. She didn’t have a flare for the dramatic like Sam or enjoyed the spotlight like Tony. Nat was more comfortable in the shadows and you were grateful she had been willing to let you in.  

You had always been curious if she and Bucky had a past. For two people that rarely seemed to interact, they shared some kind of unspoken bond you couldn’t quite understand. She had agreed without question to join the protection detail when he asked, having not even met your before. Loyalty certainly was not one of her weaknesses.

As she sat next to you, tossing a handful of popcorn in her mouth and missing a stray bit that fell into her hair, you gathered the courage to ask.

“So, you and Bucky-“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Nat smirked, turning to tuck a leg under her to face you. “Oddly, you’re not the first person to ask me this but nothing’s going on between me and Barnes. Never has. We trained together at the academy when we were rookies and learned pretty early on to trust one another. He asks for a favor and I do it. No questions. He’s done it for me, too. But that’s as far as it goes.”

You bit on your lip, heat rushing up to your cheeks. “Oh, ok. I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Nat waved you off, laughing softly at your reaction. She grabbed the piece of popcorn still sitting at the edge of her hair and dropped it on her tongue. “I can see how much you care about him. It’s sweet. Besides, Bucky could use someone like you in his life. I’ve never seen him as happy as he was when he first starting going to your bar, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, pulling your knees up to your chest, the movie long forgotten. “Really?”

Nat shrugged. “Well this was before you became a key witness in a Hydra hit, so he’s been a little tense since then, but yeah.” The way she smirked over at you got you laughing again.

Nat sighed, her smile faltering somewhat. “He’s got a control issue; wants to protect the people in his life he cares for above all else. It’s admirable. Honestly, it is. But it’ll eat at him if he lets it. That kind of devotion comes hand in hand with a guilt that can’t be swayed on its own.”

You nodded, taking in her words. She was always more perceptive than the team gave her credit for. You let your chin rest on your knees as you hugged them to your chest. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve already forgiven him a hundred times but he keeps pulling away. It’s like he doesn’t believe me.”

“It’ll take time,” Nat said carefully, like she spoke from experience. “He’ll come around. Something tells me you’ll be here when he does.”

***

You fell asleep on the couch three times before Nat convinced you to go to bed. You had wanted to wait up until Bucky returned, but as the hours passed by and with no text to Natasha that he was on his way, you reluctantly gave in. Nat sat on the edge of your bed, running her hands softly through your hair to ease the worried mummers under your breath. It only took a few minutes before you succumbed to sleep.

When you woke again, Natasha was gone. The room was absent of sunlight and crickets chirped softly from beyond the cracked opening in the window. You yawned, grabbing your phone to find it was nearly three in the morning. You laid back against the pillow, eyes staring up at the ceiling fan as the panels spun slowly in endless circles.

A parch in your throat urged you to leave the comfort of the bed. It smelled like Bucky, even eight days after he replaced the sheets and you had slept in it alone; a part of him still lingered behind and it seemed to be the only thing that brought you ease at night.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes as you lazily grabbed the empty cup on the nightstand and made your way to the kitchen. The door usually had a creak to it, so you opened it as cautiously as you could in the event that Bucky had returned and was able to find sleep of his own. You crept down the hall, pausing suddenly when you heard the distant echo of a voice. It sounded a little like yours.

“Bucky, please,” you heard your voice carry down the hall. It was impossibly quiet, muffled through the speaker of a phone. A recording, it sounded like. You took a step into the living room to find Bucky hunched over on the couch, a phone pressed to his ear as his head set in his hand. His back to was to you.

“You promised you’d answer. You promised.”

A skip in your heart and your breath caught in the back of your throat, a paralyzing ache deep in your stomach. He was listening to the voicemail.

He wiped at his eyes, sighed heavily as he pulled the phone from his ear, tapped a button and it message began again.  

“B-Bucky, please. I need you to answer. P-Please, Buck. Shit. He was here. He was just here!” your voice begged through the recording and you winced. You could barely remember what happened after Rumlow left the bar and before you recognized Bucky kneeling next to you under the desk. You hadn’t realized how terrified you sounded; crying and voice cracking through nearly every word.

“Please, I need you. C-Call me back. I’m -- fuck-- I’m scared,” it continued. You watched as Bucky raked his hand through his hair, gripping the phone so tight his knuckles were white. “Please. I don’t know what to do. No one’s-- no one’s here. It’s just me. Bucky, please. You promised you’d answer. You promised.”

Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear only long enough to press a single button. To your horror, you watched as he began listening to it again, your voice echoed through the small speaker for the third time.

Unable to take a second more, you made your way towards the couch, careful on your footsteps to avoid the loose floorboards. It took until you stood at the end of the couch before Bucky realized you were there. His eyes shot up to you, red and rimmed with tears, as he scurried to tuck the phone back in his pocket.

“Y/n,” Bucky gasped, rubbing his eyes with the corner of his sleeve. “What are you doing up so late?”

Unable to form words, you sank down onto the couch next to him. Your hand reached out to grab his but he yanked it away, recoiling on instinct and muttering an apology under his breath. He had flinched away from you like this before in the week since you’d been staying with him, but it didn’t seem to lessen the sting in your heart each time it happened.

You pulled your hands back into your lap. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Bucky looked away, a nervousness about him as he shook his head. “I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you listening to the voicemail, Buck.”

His muscles visibly tensed and he ran his hand over his face, tugging at the dryness on his lips. It had been years since you’d seen the blue in his eyes; the true, honest blue that lit up when he smiled and carried a world of vibrancy behind them. They had been clouded in shame and self-loathing since that night one week prior and you craved it more than anything else.

Tears welled in your eyes. “How many times do I have to forgive you before you believe me?”

Bucky shook his head ever so slightly, unable to look away from the floor as he leaned over his knees. “What I did isn’t forgivable, Y/n.”

“I get to decide that, not you,” you retorted sharply, your voice cracking at the effort. Bucky clenched his jaw. Giving yourself a moment to steady your racing heart, you took in a deep breath before you spoke again. “How long have you been doing this?”

He didn’t respond. Shame spread through him and you knew this wasn’t the first night he had listened that voicemail on an endless loop.  Your heart broke at the thought of him sitting out here all alone, replaying that awful recording for hours and torturing himself over it.

“You can’t keep punishing yourself, Bucky,” you begged. “I need you to be here, really be here. Not with your head stuck back in that night. Please. I’m okay, Bucky.”

“What if you’re not next time?” he asked suddenly and you had to strain your ears to hear him he spoke so softly. His whole body slumped. He was exhausted. “What if next time, I’m too late?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, a whisper of trepidation in your voice. Bucky finally turned to you and you placed your hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing over the scruff he hadn’t had the energy to shave. You sighed, a warmth filling your chest as he leaned earnestly into your touch. “All I know is I miss you, Buck, even when you’re sitting right next to me. I miss you.”

Bucky opened his eyes, big blue orbs staring up at you carrying the weight of the world.

“I know how bad you want to keep me safe,” you exhaled, a tear falling down your cheek. Bucky reached up to brush it away and you shivered at the feel of him on your skin. “You are incredibly loyal and protective and-- I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you. You beat yourself up and punish yourself again and again because you care so deeply that it’s tearing you apart. But I need you to stop, Buck. Please. Stop punishing yourself.”

A silence took over as Bucky chewed on his lips, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to process what you said. Then, an unsteady breath, and he admits, “I don’t know how.”

Your hands grasped at the sides of his face, begging him to look at you. Soft bristles of his beard scratched over your palms.  You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his forehead, holding him there against you as he sighed in such relief you felt the waves of tension lift from his body. You pulled back only slightly, enough to lower yourself to meet his eye.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, brushing a fallen tear as it ran down his cheek. You leaned closer, enough that your nose brushed his and you could feel his breath warm on your skin. “Just be here with me. Right now. Just be here.”

Bucky nodded, blinking away the tears woven amongst his lashes. Your fingers continued brushing gently over his jawline. Forehead to forehead, you held him against you for several months, giving him the time he needed. You were content to spend forever in that minute.

Slowly, you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, careful traces along your skin that sent shivers up your spine. He was breathing harder, apprehensive ocean-blue eyes flickering up to yours, so impossibly close.

Then, in a moment of courage, his lids fluttered shut and lips pressed delicately against yours. You gasped against him from the shock of it and he nearly pulled away before you locked your hands behind his neck and kissed him again.  

It was soft, gentle, and aching. The kind of kiss that was wet from tears and the sweet relief of a lifetime of agonizing longing. It was like he was exposing decades worth of heartache and need with every touch, every brush of his lips igniting something deep within you. He laid you down on the couch, careful of your head as he settled between your legs, resting his chest against yours.

His tongue traced your lower lip and you parted them further for him, fingers raking gingerly through the soft strands of his hair. A blissful kind of dizziness in your head as Bucky’s hand ran down the fabric of your t-shirt and slipped beneath it, calloused hands against the supple skin of your stomach. His lips trailed off to the corner of your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck as he started to suck at the crook of your collarbone.

His hand was hesitant as he trailed it up your stomach. Breathless, you stretched your neck to the side for him, giving him more access to your skin. You could feel his hand against your hip, itching to move further along your body but he kept it still. Knowing he needed something more than the subtext of consent, you reached down and rested your hand over his. Slowly, you guided him up to the curve of your waist to cup your breast, urging him to touch you.

Blue eyes met yours, almost surprised, and you nodded at him. Bucky’s finger brushed over the hardened nipple, more confident now as he elicited a gasp from you. Your hips bucked up against his and he bit on his lip to suppress a whine.

“Take it easy on me, doll,” Bucky pled between kisses to your neckline. There was a trace of a laugh, a piece of his old self in his voice, that made your eyes start to water. He had spent so much time hiding from you, torturing himself for events he couldn’t control, withholding the kind, sweet, quick-witted man you knew. Seeing that part of him again, hearing the teasing tone in his voice, the light-hearted banter that reminded you so much of his early days in your bar before the chaos of Hydra invaded your life, brought tears to your eyes. You had missed him more than you had realized.

As Bucky kissed in lines along your collarbone, you brought your hand up to your eyes to wipe the tears before he could notice, but he was too attentive for that. He lifted his head, concern flooding his features as he yanked his hand away from your breast, pulling it out from under your shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice panicked. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, Buck. I just really missed you,” you exhaled with a smile of relief upon your face. Bucky furrowed his brow, confused, and you pulled him down and kissed him chastely. “Please, don’t stop now.”

Bucky nodded, a careful smile lifting his lips as he sat back far enough to pull his shirt over his head. He tossed it over the back of the couch towards the bedroom. He glanced over his shoulder, towards the door, thinking, before he jumped up off the couch and scooped you up without another word.

“Bucky!” you yelped, grabbing onto his shoulders as he hulled you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. You laughed, kissing at his neck as he gripped you tight under the knees and behind your back. He twisted to the side as he walked through the doorway, careful to watch for your head and feet as he passed through. Once he set you down at the edge of the bed, you crossed your arms at your waist and pulled your shirt over your head, throwing it towards the dresser. Beneath, all that covered you was the thin layer of your underwear. The pendent of your necklace hung down by your breasts.

Bucky sighed, his eyes falling down to your exposed chest. He shook his head. “Jesus, Y/n. You’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re wearing too many clothes,” you baited, hands dipping under the hook of his jeans and pulling him towards you. Your knees caught on the back of the bed and you fell down onto the mattress, your hair circling above you in a halo. Bucky looked down at you like you hung every goddamn star in the sky.

Snapping from his gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow at him impatiently, he pulled the belt from his waits and slid his jeans down over his hips. As he stepped out of them, your gaze darted down to the outline of his arousal prominent behind his briefs. Noticing your stare, Bucky chuckled lightly under his breath before he crawled onto the bed, caging you under him.

Your hands ran up his sides, causing him to shiver as he settled atop of you. His lips returned to yours, sucking and pulling at one another enough to send an ache down to your core. You pushed your hips up against him, searching for relief, and Bucky flinched. You could feel how hard he was and you were burning with anticipation begging have him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

“Fuck, Bucky, I need you,” you moaned, grinding against him again, and he chuckled.

“Patience, doll,” he breathed, kissing sweetly at your earlobe before he started to trail his way lower down your body. “I’ve got you.”

A kiss to your collarbone. A kiss to the top curve of your breast, then to your nipple where he pinched and sucked into the warmth of his mouth. He swiped his tongue over the bud as you arched against him, fingers combing in his hair. He moved down to your stomach, kissing and licking down to the top of the only remaining fabric shielding you from him. He looked up at you, eyes pleading before you nodded and he slowly pulled the material away. He sat back, sighing as he looked at you.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

“Maybe you should show me,” you purred, wiggling your hips and Bucky’s hand palmed at his cock through his briefs just to ease his own aching.

“Don’t even have to ask, sweetheart,” Bucky licked his lips and lowered himself down to your core. His hands slid around your thighs, holding you still as he licked a long stripe between your folds. You gasped, bucking against his face, too sensitive from the anticipation.

His breath was warm against you and you could feel him smile as he ran his tongue over your clit. He sucked it into his mouth and your hands grasped at his hair. He moaned hungrily as you tugged him where you wanted him and he began rubbing himself against the mattress.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you panted, eyes squeezing shut as Bucky slid a finger inside you, curling towards him as he circled your bud with his tongue. He added a second finger and you started to feel dizzy. He pumped them slowly, in rhythm with the movements of his mouth, until he felt you start to clench around him. He started to pick up the pace, moving more irregularly and sucking harsher at your clit.

“Bucky, ah, baby, right there,” you chanted, gripping his hair tight in your fist. Then, as he hit that sweet spot inside of you and swept his tongue with just the right amount of pressure, your release hit you and your walls trembled around his fingers. Your back arched off the bed as you pushed your hips harder against him, sweet pleasure washing through your body. Bucky worked you over as you came back down, kissing softly at your hipbone before he pulled his fingers from your core.

“Wow,” you exhaled, panting as you settled against the bed. Bucky grinned, kissing his way back up your body until he reached your neck. You grabbed the sides of his face and brought him back to your lips, kissing him eagerly and tasting yourself on his tongue.

When you pulled back, completely breathless, you found yourself smiling so wide it hurt. Bucky raised an eyebrow, a little confused, but he couldn’t see the blue in his eyes the way you could; how the light you had missed so much had returned.

You reached down for the waist of his briefs, but Bucky pulled away with a gasp. You narrowed your eyes, the pang of hurt from the night one week prior still in your chest.

“Please don’t run from me again...”

Bucky shook his head, an unexpected nervous laugh escaping him. “No, doll, it’s not that. It’s just,” he blushed, redder than you’d ever seen his cheeks, “I won’t last if you touch me and I— fuck, I really just want to be inside you.”

You pursed your lips together, nodding, and trying to hide the way his words sent shivers down your spine. “Next time, then.”

A flash of relief passed over Bucky’s features, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he would get the chance to be with you like this again. He bent down and kissed your lips before he started to tug down his briefs, tossing them over where he had discarded your underwear.

His cock stood proudly, hard, as he lowered himself back on top of you. The head, red and swollen, was dripping in precum and the thick vein running along the underside looked as though it was pulsing painfully.

“Forgive me, doll. It’s been a while,” Bucky said nervously, noticing your stare.

“You’re perfect, Bucky,” you insisted, never having meant something more in your life. He kissed your lips and you couldn’t help but feel something more than lust and desire in its movement, something stronger.

“Do I need a-” Bucky stammered, looking over to the dresser. He bit his lip.

You shook your head, hands grabbing down at his hips to urge him closer. You couldn’t wait anymore. “On the pill,” you replied in a gasp as the head of his cock brushed over your clit. Bucky twisted his face, trying to hold himself back.

“You’re sure about this?” Bucky asked, a lingering doubt in his voice.

You pulled his lips down and kissed him again, slowly, longingly. When you pulled back, you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “About you? Always.”

Bucky kissed you again, smiling against your lips as he sank into you in one slow thrust, your body more than willing to compensate for his size. Your walls stretched around him, a tinge of pleasurable pain as you took a breath to adjust. You could feel Bucky’s lips on your neck as he shuddered at the feeling.

“You good, doll?” he whispered in your ear and you could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to stay still for you.

You nodded, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. “Need you to move.”

Slowly, Bucky pulled out, just to the edge of his tip before he sank in again. You groaned, pushing your hips up to meet him halfway when he thrusted into you. His face dipped into the crook of your neck as he began to pick up in pace, his arms caged around your head. He pressed desperate, messy kissed to your shoulder as you slithered your hand down between your bodies and rubbed circles on your clit.

“F-fuck, Y/n,” Bucky grunted as his hips started to become more erratic. “Tell me your close, baby. I’m begging you.”

You nod, unable to form words as the pressure began to build at your core, walls clenching around him, a soothing ache so wonderful you could have spent hours in it. Then, as Bucky sucked at purple the mark already forming at the base of your neck, you came hard, crying out his name as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

Bucky nudged it away as he kept chasing his own release, prolonging your high. “Wanna hear you,” he panted, snaking his hand down your bodies and replacing your fingers rubbing at your clit. He took over, pressing smooth gentle motions against the sensitive nerves as you gasped.

“So close,” Bucky huffed, his voice shaking. You kissed at his jawline, fingers trailing along the subtle discoloration of bruising along his abs yet to heal fully. “Ah- Y/n, f-fuck-“

He twitched inside of you, his arms shaking from the exertion as he continued thrusting sloppily through his high. You took every ounce of what he could give you, filling you whole, as he lazily began to still. You pressed your lips to his forehead as he collapsed on top of you with a heavy sigh. You brushed back his hair, smiling sweetly as he laid his head on your chest.

After what felt like the culmination of a century within only a few moments, Bucky lifted himself and pulled his soft cock out from inside you. He hulled himself up and hastily stalked off to the bathroom where you heard him turn on the faucet. He came back only a moment later with a washcloth, having already cleaned himself off. He smiled sheepishly at you as he dipped the washcloth between your legs. It was warm against your sensitive nerves, but he was careful, gentle with you as he cleaned. Once he was done, he tossed it back to the floor of the bathroom and crawled into the bed.

“You’ll stay?” you asked hesitantly, worried he would find a reason to escape at any minute.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a flash of regret from the night one week previous, before he settled in next to you, adjusting the pillow under his head. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever leave. That okay with you?”

A smile filled your lips as you nodded, turning on your stomach to tuck your arms under the pillow. Faces only inches apart, breaths easily felt upon one another’s skin, it was the most relaxed you had been in months.

Slowly, almost apprehensively, Bucky reached out and picked up the pendent of your necklace, examining it in his hands. You had never let anyone else touch it before, feeling too sacred for foreign hands. He handled it so delicately, like it was an extension of you. A few moments later, he set it back against the mattress, giving you a smile in appreciation, for allowing him to share this part of you, something beyond the physical.

After some time, after Bucky had begun lazily tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back, you found yourself getting lost in the colorful shades of blue of his eyes.

“I love you, too, you know,” you said, thinking back to what you had overheard the previous morning and watched his reaction carefully. He paused, eyes flickering up to you; shock, panic, realization, awe, all washing through his features. He licked his lips, taking a deep breath and resumed drawing the lines on your skin.

“You heard that, huh?” Bucky sighed, daring to meet your eye. He swallowed. “Does it scare you?”

You pondered that for a moment. A lot of things scared you. Rumlow, for one. The possibility of closing your bar for good. What could happen to your father as he spent the next forty years in prison. Any of the one-four getting hurt trying to protect you – or worse. Something –or someone—taking Bucky away from you.  

But not this. Bucky loving you was a gift, a beautiful miracle among a sea of nightmares. From the darkness Hydra wrapped you in, Bucky gave you a light. Maybe there was a time when that would have scared you, where you would have recognized his feelings, or yours, and blindly ran in the opposite direction and you have. But that was before you had learned to trust him, to care for him, to rely on him. Before he made you laugh and brought about a sense of relief whenever he walked through the door.

Bucky Barnes was your safe haven now. Nothing scared you when you were with him.

So, you shook your head, smiling sweetly at him as you pulled yourself closer to his body among the sheets. He sighed contently, letting his arm drape over your back as you curled up against him. With you pressed against his chest, your steady breaths warming his skin, Bucky slept well for the first time in months.  

part eight .

tags 🦋: @sweetheartbarnes / @musiclover1263 / @pies-wands-and-more / @buckygrantbarnes / @mywinterwolf / @breatheeagainnnn / @jewelofwinter / @lumar014 / @alohafromhell1 / @bucksandroses / @teardropcup / @beautiful-aravis / @me-chi / @somewereinthegalaxi / @marvelfansworld / @whyamidoingthistomyselfhelp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @yourwonderbelle / @fairislesheets / @brokeinflight / @verygraphicink / @lollipopdomination / @emotionallysalty / @forsaken-letters / @captain-hammer-of-asgard / @ashlieadelia / @kasimagines / @ladymelissastark / @panic-naran / @pinkisokay / @jsmith509 / @hennessy0274-blog / @littlemsrantsalot

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Live Music is Boring

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Hi lil cuties! Back at it again with a new chapter for FSC. I know I said a new chapter was coming tomorrow, but I wanted to post it tonight because I can. Anyways, it’s starting to pick up from here on out! I’m hoping to build a lot of sexual tension over the next few chapters for what I have planned. Like always I really appreciate all of your lovely comments, likes, and reblogs! Seeing your interest is what helps motivate me to write! Also if you would like to be tagged please send me an ask, the comments get lost and then I feel bad when i cant find everyone :/

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, masturbation, sexual tension, some friendly banter between roger and reader, really corny dirty talk, it makes sense when you read it, not proof read, short chapter but don’t worry it gets better.

Word Count: 1.9k

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Roger sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, dressed only in a tasseled vest and leather straight legged pants while you shuffled out in your old worn college sweatshirt and a pair of sleep shorts, “Are those my Golden Grahams?” You asked, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen.

Roger glanced up at you, his under eyes were always slightly droopy and puffy, a stark contrast to his surprisingly wide blue eyes that glared up at you, “Yeah, what about it.” He answered confidently.

“Stop eating my shit, I barely have enough money to support myself let alone you.” You said grabbing the box from the counter and shoving it into the cupboard that held your food.

Roger shrugged, loudly slurping up his spoonful of milk, “Maybe you should get a job then.” He leaned back in his chair “How do you even afford rent anyways?”

You froze, your back still facing Roger. For the last few weeks you had made a decent sum of money camming and selling photos, not that you would tell Roger of all people. “It’s none of your business.” You reminded him while you walked over and pulled out your leftovers from your dinner with Freddie and popped them into the microwave.

“How did you even meet Fred,” He asked suspicious that his friend, Freddie, would dare to have other friends.

You turned towards Roger and leaned against the counter, “College,” you answered pointedly, “We had a digital design class together and he liked the shirt I was wearing.” You answered, you might still have that shirt buried in your closet somewhere, “Where did you meet him?”

Roger continued eating your cereal, “We used to live together, went to different universities, but he needed a roommate.” You had been to Freddie’s home during college, but never met Roger. It was a nice place, but always a cluttered mess, “Now we run the shop and play together.” That’s right, Roger helped sell clothes at the second-hand store.

“What do you play? The guitar?” You scoffed momentarily, “God, I hope you can play something other than Wonderwall.” You joked.

A small smile graced Roger’s features, if you hadn’t had been looking you wouldn’t have seen it, “No, I’m a drummer.” He gave you a confident smirk, the kind that would have caused a girl’s knees to go weak, “But I do play guitar,” He quickly followed with.

You nodded your head, “Ah, a drummer,” You said pulling your food out from the microwave and stabbed your fork into the left-over chicken breast.

“You’ve never been to any of our shows, have you?” Roger pressed.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’ at the end of your short statement.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I don’t really like bar concerts I guess.”

Roger scoffed and made a skeptic face, “Where do you see concerts then? The back room of a coffee shop? Some of the best concerts I’ve been to have been in the back of shoddy bars.” He sounded defensive now.

“I just don’t get the point of concerts, I can listen to music on vinyl or Spotify so why should I go to a concert!” You answered back, just as defensive.

“I’m going to call Fred and tell him that you think our music is too boring to see live.” He said reaching for his phone.

You felt your blood run cold, Christ Fred would have your head on a stick if he heard you said that; which you didn’t. You lurched forward, gripping Roger’s wrist, “No!” You shouted, “Don’t call, Fred.” You struggled against his grip

Roger used his free hand to jab his finger into your side, causing you to squeal with laughter and jerk against him “Let go!” He couldn’t hide his own laughter.

You clutched his hand against your chest with your back to him “Promise you won’t tell Fred?” You said, not aware that your shorts had been pulled taut against you and hugged your skin while the crease between your ass and thigh threatened to pop from underneath them.

Roger swallowed thickly, maintaining eye contact with your upper thighs, “Promise you’ll come to our show tonight?” He asked, his voice sounded husky and sent an involuntary shudder through your body.

“Fine, I promise.” You said frowning and feeling your stomach clench at his tone. You quickly released his hand and turned to face him.

Roger’s pouty lips hung slightly ajar and his face was lightly dusted pink, you assumed it was from the struggle prior. “Promise.” He agreed, “But I’m going to tell Fred you’re going.” You groaned knowing Fred would want to doll you up for the occasion.

Thankfully you still had several hours before their 10pm show, so with plenty of time to kill you found yourself seated in front of your computer starting your live stream for the day.

You were dressed in a blue baby doll lingerie that had black lace trim, it was simple and not too revealing; just what you liked. Your colored lights lit up your room and the backdrop you had hung up disguised it for the sake of safety and the camera was perfectly positioned to only show your chest on down. By now you were regular professional.

The red light of your camera blinked and your computer screen loaded before you finally went live. Your regulars were alerted of your stream and soon people began to trickle in and soon your room was filled with a generous number of people. The tips flowed as you interacted with your regulars,

Tank3939 tipped you 50 tokens!

You smiled a sickeningly sweet smile “Thank you tank, you know these tips get me nice and wet.” You sensually said, rubbing your breasts and pushing them together. Tank was a regular, often generously tipping you, “If we reach 1,000 tokens in the next hour, I’ll let you watch me fuck myself on this fat cock.” You said holding up a decently sized dildo, you tried to ignore how much the fake sensuality in your tone caused you to cringe. The way you had to act in order to score tips was perhaps the most annoying part of the gig.

Bigboy64: shit baby how much I got to tip u to do that to me

Tank3939: beautiful sugar

Mojo_Man tipped you 1,000 tokens!

You stopped, doing a double take on at the little red mark on the screen, “Th… thank you, Mojo. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” You gave the camera a wink, “Always nice to see that men know what women want.” You said leaning back and spreading your legs, quickly swiping your fingers through your wet folds and letting out a breathy moan.

The tip bell continued to ring, and your moans threatened to get louder before you stopped, a sultry laugh left your lips “I got to be careful guys, my roommate is in the room next door… wouldn’t want him to hear me,” You gave a naughty giggle, “Or would I?”

Mojo_Man tipped you 500 tokens!

Bigboy64: u ever fuck ur roommate?

Bigboy64: Id fuck u if u were mine

You couldn’t help but grin at the comment, “No, I couldn’t do it, don’t think he likes me very much.” You answered honestly. “Thank you again Mojo, I guess I better get started now that you’ve got me all warmed up. I’ll be right back.” You said, blocking the screen so you could get set up, suctioning the dildo onto the hardwood floor beneath you. You turned around, exposing your ass to the camera and twisted to take the little post-it-note off the camera, “Remember, that little bell makes my tight little pussy wet.” You said once your screen came back into focus.

You sighed, lowering yourself onto the thick cock and sat for a moment allowing it to generously stretch your walls. God, even this fake dick filled you better than Harrison ever could. You leaned forward, sticking your ass out and arching your back and rotated your hips around the dildo, whimpering as you did so.

You readjusted your legs, spreading wider and leaning further forward. Your cheeks spread and put your pussy on display for all 523 people in your live stream. You moaned, pistoning your hips on the plastic cock. Your wet pussy easily glided up and down while your hands reached forward, gripping onto your bed in front of you for balance. Your hips burned while pornographic moans left your lips and your ass bounced with your thrusts. The tip bell rang, one after another, ensuring that you would be able to not only pay rent, but also buy another box of golden grahams for yourself.

Once you finished you gave your signing of speech, “Thank you so much my lovelies!” You said slightly out of breath, “I had so much fun with you all tonight especially my biggest donor for the might Mojo_Man,” you moaned his username out and for good measure kneaded your breasts in your hand before you continued, “Remember to subscribe to my OnlyFans and Snapchat for more content on days I don’t stream! I’ll see you again next Sin Saturday!”

You leaned back against your bed after you sighed off and looked through your stats for the night, 2500 tokens tipped by this Mojo_man, wow he must have really liked your work. You scoffed a bit, poor sap, you thought before you dressed yourself in normal clothes and left to shower and clean yourself off.

A knock on the door alerted you from your shower, your peaceful alone time, “What!” You shouted over the white noise the running water provided.

Without warning, the door opened,“Fred’s going to be over with an outfit for you!” It was Roger.

You rolled your eyes and slicked your hair back and out of your face “Couldn’t you tell me once I got out?” You frowned.

The door quickly shut, “No!” You could hear Roger’s voice growing more distant as he walked further away from the door and sure enough within minutes of your shower ending Freddie was knocking at your bedroom door and soon letting himself in.

“Fred,” You whined, “I look like a slut in this!” You shouted.

“I know!” He countered, “It’s my favorite look on you, you know that!” He straightened out the fabric of your shirt and skirt he had picked out for you.

You looked in the mirror, feeling stupid, “It’s just a bar, Fred. I don’t know why I can’t just go in some jeans!” you protested looking in the mirror.

You could see Roger’s reflection in the mirror, he once again changed his outfit. This time he was wearing an open floral print button down and tight black pants with flared legs, “I think it’s a nice change from that old jumper.” Roger always had to add his own two cents in.

You rolled your eyes, “Why’d you change again? Was your ‘lounge around’ tassel vest not sufficient enough for the show?”

Roger looked at you through narrow eyes, “’Course not, unlike you I care how people see me.”

“All right you two, that’s enough. We have to go over to John’s for the pregame.”

“Wait-” you protested, “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet everyone.”

Freddie scoffed at you, “Of course you have to, you’re a regular Queen groupie now!”

You groaned as Freddie wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you through the apartment, “Why can’t I be a roadie? I can lift stuff.”

“Not dressed like this!” Fred countered, “Enough, come on now we have to get dinner. It’s the most important meal before we go out!”

You tugged the leather miniskirt Freddie had dressed you in down and frowned, reminding yourself that you were only doing this to get a break from your mundane routine.

[ortizrachel94]

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[elareine]

Don't make me close one more door (DamiDick)

“Investing in health care is not just an investment in the current workforce. It’s also an investment in education and our future.” Richard gestured towards the graph projected onto the screen behind him. “Ladies, gentlemen, and gentlefolks, did you know that providing treatment for worm infections is the single most effective measure we can take to increase the days kids in developing nations spend in schools?”

Inwardly, Damian smiled. In a minute or so, Richard would switch to images of tapeworms. Watching people react to that was a highlight of these evenings.

There had been a bit of an argument, as always, about how close Damian was allowed to stand. In Damian’s opinion, a bodyguard that wasn’t close to enough to shield their charge with their body wasn’t worth a penny. Richard, of course, argued that he needed to be unencumbered and free to move on stage. (And on a walk. And doing his job. And doing his volunteer work. And—every day, all day, really.)

It was a well-worn argument, by now; a habit more than a real fight. Damian stood a few meters away, blending into the curtains of the stage as well as he could. His partner and occasional relief, Colin, was guarding the other way onto the stage. Richard had moaned and whined, but he was wearing the bulletproof vest. Damian had checked.

It was a good comprise, he thought, one that left him free to listen to Richard’s speech with half an ear, noting the rapture on the audience’s face with some amusement.

In the beginning, he had constantly imagined himself in Richard’s place. His rightful place at his father’s side—or so he had thought back then. The heir to a fortune and a heritage that was very different from his mother’s.

These days?

Well. These days, Damian carried some too-sweet cereal bars with him to make sure Richard ate.

“How was that?” Richard asked when they were safe backstage. By now, he knew better than to ask Damian these questions when the younger man was trying to focus on possible threats in their environment, and Damian appreciated his reticence. It didn’t come naturally.

“Good,” Damian answered honestly. “Too wordy when you talked about the financial situation, of course, but you convinced everyone.”

Richard laughed. “Yes, I could see some eyes glazing over. I’ll have to adjust that part of the presentation. But it’s really for a good cause, you know. That’s the most convincing thing.”

“If you say so.” Damian doubted it. Richard was much more of an idealist than he was, but he surely must have noticed that it was his personal magnetism that drew people to—there was a stranger backstage. A big hulking figure, dressed in army cargoes and making their way toward them.

Damian’s eyes narrowed. He knew that walk, had followed that back through half a dozen combat missions. If Jason Todd was here to make trouble—

“Jason!” Richard called out, sounding delighted. He ran past Damian, completely ignoring his bodyguard’s protective stance to fling himself into Todd’s arms.

Todd, to his credit, only looked mildly inconvenienced at those proceedings, returning the hug gingerly. “Hi, Dick. Happened to be in town, thought I’d stop by.”

“Oh, now you do. And you just happened to forget letting us know beforehand, thereby ensuring that Bruce isn’t here to see you?”

“Exactly.”

Richard turned to Damian, gesturing excitedly. “Damian, this is my brother, Jason. He’s a fuckwit who doesn’t call often enough.”

“I can tell,” Todd said drily. “For example, I completely missed that you have a bodyguard now, much less one that’s so… well-trained.”

His eyes on Damian were thoughtful.

“Jason? Do you know Damian?” Richard asked.

Damian couldn’t help but hold his breath. If Todd chose to betray him now…

It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight his way out of the situation. He could. Todd was a formidable fighter, but he would have no reason to go all out on Damian.

But… Richard would be disappointed in him, Damian realized. If he was exposed like that—how would he be able to convince the other man that he had never meant to harm him, had stayed on only because he wished to keep Richard safe?

He could lose Richard, and at that moment, that was the most terrifying possibility of all.

“We worked security together in Afghanistan,” Todd said. It was not a lie. “Maybe he will tell you all about it.”

“I did not realize you are brothers,” Damian replied evenly, trying not to betray his relief.

“Yes, we do not much resemble each other, do we?” Richard asked ruefully. “And of course, Jason is always traveling around the globe these days.”

“If I remember correctly,” Damian dared to point out, “that is a better option than having him deliver a speech.”

It was the kind of ribbing they had shared many times in those darker days, back when they’d been trying to scout a cave system riddled with traps, and Todd reacted accordingly, shooting back: “Oh, look, he’s saying fifteen words in a row. Is that some kind of record?”

“Great, more bickering,” Richard groaned, though Damian could tell he was hiding a smile. “Can we at least get dinner while we insult each other?”

“Sure, as long as you’re not cooking.”

“It was nice, seeing Jason again,” Richard told Damian that evening as they were getting ready for sleep. He was stripping down to his shorts again; at this point, Damian had given up on trying to get him changed into something more suitable in case of an emergency.

He himself was changing into silk pajamas, his service weapon close at hand. Richard knew better than to comment on the knife holster strapped across Damian’s back. Damian seldomly took it off, and certainly not for sleep.

As always, they met in the middle of the bed, Richard crawling into Damian’s arms with a sigh. Early on in their relationship, Damian had realized that his charge craved bodily contact, needed touch like other people water. It had only been rational to offer to provide for that need himself, instead of having Richard go out and potentially endanger himself. That was how the need for a bodyguard had arisen in the first place, after all.

It was deeply unprofessional. Damian wouldn’t have it any other way.

By his side, Richard began to laugh. Damian supposed one could call it a chuckle, though it was more of a giggle, really. Though it wasn’t clear to him what was so funny.

“You put yourself between me and literally every entry-point.” Richard shook his head, still laughing. “You can’t stop doing your job, can you?”

Damian stayed silent. It was more than that. Protecting Richard had become part of his very nature. It wasn’t about preserving the symbol anymore—Richard Grayson, born to the circus life, adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, a shining symbol of change in this city, advocate for healthcare and justice reform—it was about making sure that Richard could laugh like this every day.

“Anyway,” Richard murmured, talkative as always. “I was saying—it was good to see Jason again. I would’ve never known about your past, otherwise.”

They were so close. Damian knew there was no way Richard would miss the change in his breathing. “I am not so mysterious.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Richard mused. “A man in his late twenties, evidently terrifyingly well trained in all fighting styles imaginable, shows up with a resume that’s faked well enough it manages to fool even Bruce for a while. Instead of enacting any dastardly schemes, he’s prevented at least three assassination plots he thinks I don’t know about and cuddles me every night. I’d call that plenty mysterious.”

“I—” Damian felt lost. On the one hand, this was his chance to come clean to Richard, as he should have done months ago. On the other hand… he couldn’t bring himself to lose this; not now that he knew what it meant to him, to have Richard so close, safe in his arms.

There was a warm hand on his cheek, bringing him back into the present. “I’m giving you a blank cheque tonight,” Richard told him. “Tell me everything, and I promise I will not be angry.”

Damian shook his head. “You cannot promise that.”

“Maybe not.” Despite the concession, Richard was beginning to smile. “But I can promise you that I will not push you away, no matter how angry I am. If I am, which is less likely than you think. You’ve done more to earn my trust than… anyone, in a long time.”

“I lied to you.” A lie of omission was a lie, nonetheless. Damian had seen people killed for less.

“You earned it through your actions, not your words. Tell me about yourself, Damian,” Richard whispered, dropping the gentlest of kisses on Damian’s forehead. “Tell me about yourself, and stay.”

It felt like a benediction.

Damian took a deep breath. “I was born in 1990 in the Syrian steppe. No one knew who my father was then…”